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yunarim · 1 year

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I know you know how I feel ♡⊹

❤︎ summary : lovestruck!characters and how they act around you ❤︎ tags : gn reader, fluff, guys being dorks lol, reader is a little bit dense, crack, lowercase used ❤︎ chatacters : deuce, silver, jade, lilia ❤︎ author's note : just read this as you listen to nct dream - candy, you'll get my mood instantly

─ ⊹ Deuce Spade ♡₊

type : doesn't even try hiding his feelings

the thing is, he doesn’t even know he’s in love with you himself

at that point the only people who doesn’t know Deuce is in love with you are Deuce and you

the moment he sees you he actually tries do something but fails epically

Ace spotted dying laughing his ass off when Deuce was in the middle of pronouncing something sounding like a lame pick up line

all that glittering hearts in his eyes remained completely unnoticed by you

“prefect, I think you forgot something”

“oh? what exactly?”

“me.”

realizes he failed as you look really concerned and promise to never ever forget him again

Ace suddenly became Deuce’s official translator from Cringe Language

he did try, in fact, but was quick to quit his part-time job due to Deuce being too much funny

he’s okay at his dorm though, he’s even doing extra cleaning or studying late at night just to impress you (ended up impressing Riddle instead)

(no worries, you praised him for being such a hard-worker)

(Deuce felt as if his heart’s gonna explode with bright red roses flying everywhere)

tries denying how warm his cheeks get when you’re tugging on his sleeve and asking to get that limited sandwich in cafeteria

thought he was successful when there were you, Ace, Grim, and him, everything seemed normal and collected

was proved wrong when his heart melted at how cutely you were blowing on the tea because it was too hot to drink right now

“what’s with your eyes? are you crying?” Trey once asked

“nothing, just Prefect got in my eye.”

the moment he voice it out loud he punches himself and smiles like an idiot

being quite dense himself, expecting you to be more discerning than he (little did he know...)

pretty much acts the same in the end, but with an unholy amount of hearts and fluffy stuff in his eyes

─ ⊹ Silver ♡₊

type : what's a lovestruck?

doesn't get it why Lilia suggested taking extra lessons from him but agreed nevertheless

expects it to be sword lessons but Lilia suddenly sits down and pointing on his legs waiting for Silver to do something

"Father?"

“use my legs as a pillow"

doesn't get a thing but does it anyway

next day Lilia tells him seek for Prefect and convince them to let him sleep on them instead

for the first time in his life he isn't asleep at that hour

seems completely perplexed and puzzled and rubs his temples with his fingers when you spot him in the garden

“hi Silver!! i thought you're asleep, i brought a blanket!"

decided his heart skips a beat because he ruined his already demolished sleep schedule

"come here?"

why did Lilia say he needs to convince you when you're doing it willingly?

the moment his eyes meet yours he just knows something isn't right in his chest and how different it is from sleeping on Lilia

already planning whether should he court you like you're in a fairy tale or do you prefer normal way... maybe he doesn't know what's normal himself but he can try asking Lilia

whenever he gets up you see him with a gentle smile plastered on his face and then he's smiling for all day long, muttering your name in his sleep

breaking news: Sebek duelled him to confess to you already just so he won't ever see that stupid expression

spoiler: Silver confessed and his expression got an update and now Silver's not only smiling, but blushing hard, too

─ ⊹ Jade Leech ♡₊

type : acts all collected and expects you to figure out how he feels because it's funny

or maybe not, given he didn't expect you would be so dense

he tried acting more gentle than he was already with you, but got Azul's stressing himself out instead because of an enormous amount of drinks Jade gave to you claiming it was "on the house"

calculates everything in his head like everything's suddenly a bill of parcels he checks out before giving Azul

here you go entering Mostro Lounge, then proceed to take a seat near bar counter, then you look up at him aaaand-

wasn't you supposed to smile?

"Jade, you look exhausted... don't get me wrong, you're always stunning, but are you okay? i can help with the dishes or something!!"

his heart crashes down as he sees you worried and concerned and almost grabbing his hands with yours and he’s desperately trying to ignore loud thud in his chest

"Jade, it's not funny when you're acting like an idiot around Prefect!!!"

thought you only got lovestruck Jade who's doing his best pulling gentleman card and smiling nicely at you?

ha, not so fast, you got his brother too in one set (not to mention Floyd was extremely annoyed at that lame slow burn of yours)

“alright then, what's the plan?"

“just show 'em your feelings!!"

"aren't i already smiling at them the way i don't smile at others?"

Floyd facepalms himself but grabbing his brother's hand, then finds you, placing you two in front of each other and just

"Off to date you two go, now!"

good thing you're dense and can't hear how fast his heart's beating

too bad for him you do notice a pretty pinkish hue on the tips of his ears

─ ⊹ Lilia Vanrouge ♡₊

type : acts all collected because he knows his feelings really well

his facade suffers a humiliating defeat and crashing when you do absolutely ridiculous things

thought raising a little dragon with mood swings was hard?

think twice, because dealing with your extremely cute little shenanigans suddenly turned out to be worse than anything

get used to seeing him hanging from the ceiling upside down?

that's your game now, surprise him instead

so you do, throwing yourself on him and squeezing in your arms the time he shows up floating midair, his head somewhere in your stomach, while your hands patting his lower back

never in his life thought he would hug someone in such a position

that day Lilia swats all that fluffy cute childish stuff away and decides he needs to act seirously

nice try...

you consider he's playing with you, so there's nothing you can do but outsmart him

he brought you flowers? give him an all-included garden tour with spilling beans about everything he wanted to know!

he wanted to hug you? good to know, you're already stretching your arms in a welcoming gesture!

since when hugging someone sent his mind to an another orbite, heart doing wonders of rhythmic gymnastics and performing a crazy backflips?

by the end of the day there's Diasomnia family gathering and their heightened musings on what happened to Lilia and why he is staring at one point on the wall, clenching his heart and smiling stupidly to himself

Sebek thought he made sense assuming it's a new type of training

Lilia in the next morning: "care to kiss me?"

you: stuttering blushing mess

Lilia: thinks he's doing better than you but in reality it's Silver around the corner filming his father and trying to convince Malleus he's father is insanely in love

❤︎ notes : actually i was bored lol so here's something,,,,, idk just something i spent 30 minutes on to write

those four are my absolute bias wreckers it’s not even funnyyyyy-

#twst #twst x reader #deuce x reader #silver x reader #jade x reader #lilia x reader #twisted wonderland

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karahalloway · 2 months

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Devil May Care

Fandom: Heaven’s Secret (Book 1: Season 1)

Pairing: Lucifer x F!OC (Devon Hart)

Series: Oh, So Devilish

Chapter summary: Devon sneaks off to track down a lead on her death... But she's not alone.

Word count: 5,100

Warnings: M (swearing, angst, suicidal thoughts, aggro, toxic behaviour, references to death, physical violence)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: So. This is not what I was supposed to be working on. At all. Not only is this not Intentions, but it’s not even TRR… or Choices, for that matter. However, a couple of weeks ago, @angelasscribbles convinced me to take the plunge with a Romance Club choices game called Heaven’s Secret and I became instantly hooked… especially on Lucifer’s character. I have a type; can’t you tell? 😆

A/N2: This first part of what turned into a two-parter (it just got too long, so I had to split it) focuses on the events that take place at the end of HS S1E5 and the second part focuses on the start of S1E6. Because while I love the character of Lucifer, I felt like that his characterisation missed the mark a bit (especially considering that he is the literal Son of Satan) so, I decided to make… adjustments 😏

A/N3: I appreciate that this is not what most people on my tag list signed up to read, but I have tagged my Permas anyway, in case anyone wants to indulge me. However, in the (highly likely) event that I end up writing more for this fandom, moving forward, I will only tag people who specifically request to be tagged. So if you want in on Part 2, let your preferences be known, or forever hold your peace.

A/N4: By way of context for people who decide to read, but are not familiar with canon for this story, here is some background (which I have also tried to incorporate as much as possible into the fic itself): MC (default name, Vicky Walker, but for various reasons, I decided to create an OC instead) is killed in a car crash. However, instead of ‘simply’ dying, she is offered the choice to become an immortal and join the Angels & Demons Academy (located in Heaven) and train to become either an angel or a demon (your choices in the game actually affect your path — prior to choosing an eventual side, you are referred to as an ‘Unclaimed’). As part of her training, MC is sent down to Earth to complete assignments that require her to influence humans into making various choices… however, MC is also secretly trying to investigate the circumstances of her (highly suspicious) death. Also, for the purposes of this universe, Lucifer is the demon son of Satan and Lilith (not a fallen angel as per Biblical canon). Dino, Sammy and Fencio are true-born angels (don’t ask about the names), Mimi and Adi are true-born demons. Both angels and demons (and Unclaimed) are anthropomorphic and have wings; however, when they go down to Earth, they disguise themselves in human form. Hope that helps! 🤗

Devil May Care

“Ah, there you are…”

Jerking my gaze away from Dino, I spot Sammy’s human form standing a few feet away.

“Sorry,” I say, quickly wiping the remnants of the wetness from my face. “I… I just needed a minute.”

Sammy nods in understanding. “If it’s any consolation, the fact that you care is a good thing. It shows you still have your humanity. No death should be treated lightly, yet most demons… and a fair number of angels have lost sight of that. But it’s a strength. Don’t let Adi or Mimi tell you otherwise.”

“Thanks, Sammy…” I say with a sniffle, forcing myself to stand.

“Any time,” he acknowledges with a lop-sided smirk. “But we should get going.”

“Yes. It is time to return,” confirms Dino, coming to stand beside me.

As if on cue, the air begins to thicken around us, and a familiar crackle of energy raises the hairs on my arms. Glancing up, I see the very fabric of the night sky stretch and strain as an otherworldly wind whips the now-familiar bridge between the dimensions into shape.

Dino steps into the centre of the maelstrom first, lifting into the air as the vortex sucks him back to the ethereal realm.

“See you on the other side,” Sammy winks as he leaps after the other angel.

With a heavy exhale, I shove my hands into the pockets of my biker jacket, and force myself to move towards the epicentre of the storm.

Finding myself back on Earth in the wake of my death hadn’t been easy the first time, and it sure as hell hasn’t gotten any easier the second time either. Because even though everyone at the Academy keeps reminding me that my mortal life is well and truly over, and there is no going back, for whatever inexplicable reason I can’t seem to accept my new-found providence.

And coming back here — to the human realm — just feels like a massive kick in the gut each and every time… Like a kid being taunted with everything they can’t have from the other side of a toy store window. A cruel reminder of what that was wrenched away from me. My friends… My family… Even myself.

The undeniable force of the vortex tugs at my clothes, trying to lift me skywards, but I find myself fighting it.

Maybe because my death had been thrust upon me with such shocking suddenness… giving me no time to prepare, much less come to terms with it before I fell into the world of angels and demons. Maybe because the grief I saw etched into my father’s face has woven itself into the threads of my soul as well, reinforcing the harshness of the truth that we got cheated out of what could have been left of our precious, irretrievable time together. Or maybe it’s because I know that my killer is still out there, living it up despite the crime he committed against me, free from punishment, free from the scythe of justice.

The tip of my finger brushes against the folded letter buried in my pocket.

Since picking it up outside of my house a few days ago — though, to be fair, I have no idea how time converted between Earth and the angelic realm, so for all I know, it could’ve been years since my last visit – I’ve carried the piece of paper with me everywhere. In part because I don’t want anyone finding it and wondering how I managed to get my hands on it in the first place… As given that we aren’t supposed to interact with mortals outside of our given assignments, I am not particularly interested in the chewing out that is no doubt in store for me if someone decides to rat on me. But also, in part because I cannot let what happened to me go… and desperately crave answers.

Digging my heels in on the edge of the swirling whirlpool of energy, I pull the letter out…

…but as if by fate, the square of paper is ripped from my grasp by a particularly vicious gust of wind.

“No…!” I gasp, throwing myself heedlessly after my only lead.

The letter zooms around the circumference of the vortex — like a hapless butterfly riding the edge of a tornado — and begins to track upwards, ever further from my reach…

But just as it’s on the verge of vanishing into the void, it is suddenly snatched out of the air with inhuman speed and precision.

I stumble to stop, mouth agape and arm outstretched like some drunken ballerina as I lay eyes on the dark form on the other side of the vortex.

Crap…

Of all the possible ways this screw-up could’ve gone, this is — hands down — the worst.

As even in human skin… without the horned wings gathered around him like a dark halo, or the pulsing, ethereal tattoos that seem to constantly shift along the visible surface of his skin… there is no mistaking the raw power emanating from the being standing across from me.

Lucifer cocks a lazy brow in my direction as he holds the note up. “Lost something, have we?”

His eyes meets mine, and in spite of the distance separating us, I feel the full heat of the fire that burns in his demonic gaze scorch into me like the blade of a hot knife.

And despite drawing upon every ounce of my willpower to prevent it from happening, I feel an incriminating blush rise up my cheeks.

A slow smile curves at his lips. “I thought so…”

“Give it back!” I snap, my momentary embarrassment morphing instantly into anger… even though I know in the back of my mind this is exactly the reaction he is probably looking to goad me into.

Because I am angry. Angry at myself for being stupid enough to arm someone like Lucifer with such potent ammunition to use against me. Angry with him for the fact that he managed to sneak up on me like this in the first place.

But most of all, my heart is still bleeding for that little girl who died a senseless death mere minutes ago… and the knowledge that I had been complicit in it.

And I cannot keep a latch on the tidal wave of red rising over me. Nor do I really want to.

I have already cried a river on the bench with Dino — commiserating not just for the fate of the girl, but for the fucked up situation I now find myself in as well — and I have no tears left. Just raw, frothing rage at the inherent unjustness of the world, at the flippant and uncaring attitude of my fellow immortals who see humans as mere pawns on their eternal chess board, and my own powerlessness in the face of forces and rules that I don’t yet fully understand, but which I’m being steered to blindly conform to anyway.

And the arrogant demon standing in front of me is just as good a scapegoat for my ire as any.

“Or what?” he taunts, sliding his thumb slowly across the paper… taunting me shamelessly with the missive he now holds in his hand.

Something inside of me snaps and I launch myself at him with a wordless yell.

But the vortex has apparently had enough of being kept on hold by my indecision, and before I’ve made it two steps, I find myself being sucked up to go careening through time and space like a discombobulated pinball.

“Damn it!” I cuss as I’m tugged through the shimmering funnel against my will.

I had one chance to make some much-needed progress on figuring out who killed me and why, and I’ve managed to blow it.

And who knows when I’ll have the opportunity to try again? Or even if I’ll be able to try again…

As knowing Lucifer — the literal Spawn of Satan — he’ll end up throwing me under the bus the moment we get back to the Academy… just for perverse kicks.

“Asshole…” I gripe under my breath as I feel the speed of the vortex slow, indicating that my unplanned trip is about to come to an end.

But as my feet touch down once more, it is not back at the Academy where I find myself. Instead, I’m standing outside of a building that looks very much like a police station… in my hometown.

“Huh…”

Dino had mentioned previously that destinations in the vortex are set by one’s intentions.

Since I had been so focused on the letter — which my father had received from the lead detective assigned to my case — the vortex must’ve thought this is where I had wanted to go.

And I’m not about to look an unexpected gift horse in the mouth.

Knowing that I didn’t have a lot of time before my classmates — and Fencio! — notice my absence back in the angelic realm, I hurry across the street.

Taking the steps two at a time, I shove myself through the revolving door and step into the station. Luckily, I have the contents of the letter memorised, given that I no longer have it in my possession, so I’m hoping that I’ll be able to blag my way through this with some semblance of grace.

The receptionist manning the counter looks up at my arrival. “Can I help you?”

“Erm… Yes,” I confirm, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I step forward. “I’m looking for DC Lawton. He was heading up the Hart case…?”

I cross my fingers behind my back, hoping against hope that it’s only been mere weeks and not decades since my death, and the police are still investigating.

The receptionist takes a moment to consult her computer. “Yes. He should still be in.”

A relieved breath bursts out of me. Another break!

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Not exactly…” I admit. “But… I do have some information relating to the case that he needs to hear.”

The woman behind the desk studies me for a long moment, no doubt wondering what a petite Korean girl wearing pink pigtails and spiked leather could possibly have to contribute to a homicide investigation… given that that is the mortal skin I am currently masquerading around in.

But she nevertheless seems to take me at my word. “Down the hall, second door on the left.”

“Thank you!” I blurt, already turning away.

Speedwalking past the desk and down the corridor, I locate the correct door and push down on the handle without knocking.

The lone man occupying the room barely glances up from his stack of papers at the sound of my arrival. “Yeah?”

“DC Lawton?” I ask, stepping into the room.

“That’s what it says on the name plaque,” he grunts, indicating the front of his desk.

“Great!” I exclaim, moving up to him. “I…”

I trail off, realising that I haven’t actually planned out what I was going to say when I got here. As I can’t exactly reveal that I am the dead victim from one of his case files, come to demand answers about the circumstances of the car crash that killed her.

The detective raises his head, waiting for a response..

I take a deep breath. “I hear you’re the lead investigator on the Hart case.”

He nods. “That’s right. And you are?”

“An interested party,” I admit. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

His brows furrow, no doubt in response to the same train of thought that chugged down the tracks of the receptionist’s mind earlier. “What kind of interested party?”

Shit…

I’m not sure exactly how I had expected this conversation to go, but it definitely wasn’t like this.

But then I remember that I’m not a mere human anymore…

And I’m not willing to leave empty-handed.

Ditching any rational approach, I scrunch my face up in pretend grief as I flop dramatically into the chair at the side of the detective’s desk. “I didn’t want to say anything before because I didn’t want anyone to know… especially my parents… but I can’t keep it in anymore and I need to tell someone!”

DC Lawton startles slightly at my unexpected and borderline theatrical flip of composure. “Keep what in anymore?”

I slap an aggrieved hand onto his. “That Devon and I were in a relationship!”

The detective’s eyes widen in shock, and I use his momentary surprise to lock my gaze with his, just like we practiced back at the Academy.

The physical contact, combined with the suddenly unrestricted access to the window of his soul, allows me to breach the energetic wall encasing his body, and dive right into the hidden recesses of his mind.

Yes! It worked!

But I force myself to curtail my celebration, knowing that I need to focus all my attention on maintaining the delicate connection with the man sitting in front of me.

“You must help me, Detective,” I urge, tightening my hold on his hand.

DC Lawton looks somewhat dazed — like he’s been whacked over the back of the head — but at the sound of my voice, his pupils dilate eagerly. “How can I help?”

“The girl in the Hart case that you’re investigating… she was run off the road. Do you know by who?”

“No,” he intones, his voice slightly groggy. “The vehicle was a rental. A black minivan. I haven’t had a chance to talk to the rental company yet…”

“Which rental company?” I press.

“Global Drive,” he says. “The license plate is NYK 357.”

“Can you write that all down for me?”

He lifts his pen up with a nod to scribble onto a Post-It. “Your hand is so warm…”

“Thanks,” I say, snatching the note from him and breaking off the contact in the process.

He blinks up at me rapidly. “Any time…?”

Jumping up from the chair, I turn to dash out of the room…

…and nearly trip over my own feet when I come face to face with the glowering form leaning against the door jamb.

“What th—?”

Lucifer’s lips curl back to reveal teeth. “I should have you racked in the Pits.”

An involuntary shiver runs down my spine at his words. Not because of the sinister nature of the threat — I’ve been to Hell, and it certainly is no picnic! — but because I can see from the tight set of his jaw that he is actively considering carrying it out.

I force myself to meet his burning gaze head-on. “Well, unfortunately for you, I didn’t end up in Hell when I died. So, you don’t get to make that call.”

“No,” he growls back. “But your flagrant disregard for the rules makes you a liability, and I refuse to take the fall for you.”

“Well, maybe you should’ve thought of that before you decided to follow me,” I hit back, bumping him with my shoulder as I shove past him on my way out of the room.

His hand shoots out to latch around my arm with a vice-like grip, and suddenly I find myself nose-to-nose with him.

“I didn’t follow you,” he hisses into my face, his coal-black irises alight with the very fires of Hell. “The vortex brought me here because you can’t keep hold of your own fucking trash.”

“It’s not trash!” I spit back. “It’s—“

“Was it worth it?”

The question — and the sudden change in his tone — catches me off guard.

I blink in confusion, wondering if I maybe misheard him. But while his piercing gaze is still locked onto me with the same degree of ferociousness as a moment ago, behind the raging inferno of irritation glimmers a genuine spark of curiosity.

“Maybe,” I concede tightly, trying to get a read on him.

As demons, I’ve learnt, are inherent wildcards. Unpredictable at the best of times, and downright diabolical at the worst. Which means their whims and whiles can change at the drop of a hat, and it is dangerous to get caught in a compromising position with them.

Which — unfortunately — is exactly where I have managed to find myself with Lucifer. Trapped in a corner, with him holding all the trumps. So, I don’t want to admit any more than I strictly have to.

He rakes his hot gaze over me one more time — as if trying to catch me out in a lie — before pulling back slightly.

“Hmm… Not a complete waste of wings then…”

I wrench my arm from his grasp. “Fuck you.”

I swear I hear a snort of amusement escape him as I stomp away… But I resist the urge to sucker punch him. He is not worth it, and I have better things to do with my limited time on Earth anyway.

Glancing down at the Post-It in my hand, I can see that DC Lawton has been kind enough to scrawl down the address of the rental centre… and that it is only a few blocks away.

Which is a blessing, given that I don’t have any money on me with which to hail a cab or jump on a bus, and our lessons at the Academy have yet to cover how to magically hotwire a car.

So, walking it is. At least the physical exertion will give me a chance to blow off some steam.

Shoving the note into my pocket, I push through the revolving doors of the station, and back out onto the street. Pausing for a second to get my bearings – it’s been a while since I last frequented this part of town, having spent the preceding four years of my mortal life off at college – I quickly rake through my mental map of the neighbourhood before setting off to the right.

Except, I don’t even make it to the end of the block before I feel a tell-tale prick in the back of my neck. Glancing over my shoulder, my stomach drops as I catch sight of Lucifer a few yards behind me.

Gritting my teeth, I pick up my pace, hoping that it’s merely an unfortunate coincidence that he happens to be going in the same direction as me.

But it seems that I am in no such luck, as he’s still tailing me two blocks later, like an annoying black fly that I cannot seem to shake, no matter how hard I try.

With the result that by the time I get to the next crosswalk, my cool has evaporated completely, and instead of crossing the road in front of me, I end up rounding on him like a rabid pitbull.

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite!”

My outburst seems to catch him off-guard. But whatever jump I may have managed to get on him is fleeting at best, and in the next instant, he’s up in my face again, teeth bared and hackles raised. “Watch your tongue, Unclaimed. Before I rip it out of your mouth.”

“Oh, the truth hurts, does it?” I snip up at him.

“You don’t know the meaning of pain,” he grits, his hand snapping around the base of my throat.

My eyes narrow. “I know more than you think.”

“No. You don’t.” The flames in his eyes lick over me contemptuously. “And your arrogance will get you killed. Permanently.”

“Bet you’d love to be the one to do it, too,” I goad with a humourless smile.

I know I’m playing with hellfire. But I don’t care. I didn’t ask for this life, and I’m still not convinced I want it. So, if Lucifer is willing to put me out of my misery, then so be it. Being who he is, I’m sure he has the means… and I’ve just handed him the opportunity on a silver platter.

The Prince of Darkness stares at me for what feels like an age, his hand wrapped around my throat, face a mere breath from mine, his gaze simmering as if trying to read my very soul.

“Unlike you, angel, I’m not that stupid,” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. His hand drops from my neck as he steps abruptly past me.

“Then why are you still here?” I demand, whirling around after him.

He stops a few feet away, shoulders tense. But when he looks back at me, rather than anger or annoyance, it’s that devilish grin playing at his lips again. “Maybe I’m just enjoying the show.”

“Eugh!” I grit, throwing my hands up in the air as I plow past him.

Conceited, egotistical, patronising bastard! Why can’t he fall back into the Seventh Circle of Hell, where he fucking—

I’m so incessed that I end up storming right by the rental centre… and have to retrace my steps from the other end of the block to correct my mistake.

So, by the time I arrive back at the correct entranceway, my mood is even more foul than when I left the police station.

“Save it,” I spit as I reach the still-smirking form of Lucifer, leaning against the metal fence post of the lot.

His brow arches. “Did you hear me—?”

I flip him off in no uncertain terms as I stride past without a backwards glance.

He wants to stick around? Fine. But that doesn’t mean I need to be nice to him. Hell will have to freeze over first.

Arriving at the first row of parked cars, I pull the Post-It out from my pocket and begin scanning the plates, looking for the black van.

“Good afternoon, miss. Can I help you find anything in particular?”

Looking up, I see a suited man with a combover and a name tag looking at me expectantly. The rental rep, by the looks of him.

“Yes, actually,” I affirm. “I’m looking for a black minivan.”

“You have come to the right place,” he tells me with an eager smile as he starts to lead me to the other side of the lot. “Global Drive stocks the largest selection of rental vans available for hire in the area, and we’re happy to accommodate both long- and short-term requirements. Are you moving, by any chance?”

“Huh?” I’d been too busy trying to match the van plates to the number on the Post-It that I totally missed the question.

The rep’s smile falters slightly. “Since your interest is in a minivan, am I correct to assume that y—?”

“No.”

Both mine and the rep’s gaze snap around to land on the hulking presence of Lucifer, who has managed to slither up behind us without either of us noticing.

“We’re not planning on renting it,” he adds, with what I can only deduce is his interpretation of an angelic smile.

My stomach drops. Oh, no…

The rep frowns. “Then why—?”

“Because this lovely young lady is of the belief that she may have left a rather intimate item in one of your vans following a recent excursion of ours. And she’s desperate to retrieve it.”

“Oh, well of course!" agrees the rep. “We pride ourselves on—"

“It’s lacy… And expensive…” Lucifer clarifies with a sly look. “And probably lodged between the—”

“The point is!” I interject loudly, my cheeks burning with mortification despite the fact that the entire story is a shameless lie. “We would like to take a look in the van. The plate number was NYK 357.”

The demeanour of the rep suddenly shifts. “Umm… Are you certain?”

“Yes,” I say, laying a hand on his arm to try and sway him like I did the detective. “Very—”

The rep snatches his arm away. “I’m going to need to see some ID. I cannot allow access to the vehicles without verifying that—”

I reach towards him again. “Surely that’s not necessary… We just want to take a quick peek, and—”

“He’s going to bolt…” breathes Lucifer in my ear.

I flick my head away irately. “Shut—”

But the rep has already turned tail and fled.

“Damn it!” I grit.

“Told you,” Lucifer smirks down at me.

I give him an annoyed shove. “He only did that because of you! If you hadn’t stuck your nose in it, I would’ve—”

“I did nothing,” he counters tersely, the coals of his eyes flaring in warning. “Your attempt to influence him was doomed from the start. But you were too obstinate to notice.”

“Obstinate!” I cry. “You were breathing in my ear!”

“And did you like it?” he purrs, suddenly all up in my space again as he flips the tables on me with diabolical speed.

“No,” I snort, turning pointedly away.

Asshole…

He deliberately sabotaged my attempt to establish a connection with the rental rep. Whether for his own perverse enjoyment — like the Devil temping Eve in the Garden — or whether for some more sinister reason, it doesn’t matter. The end result is the same. And I have no clue how I’m going to be able to salvage this rapidly snowballing clusterfuck, given that I am already working on borrowed time.

But I know I have to try. I’ve somehow managed to make it this far, in spite of the successive obstacles Lucifer’s thrown in my way, and I refuse to give that bastard the satisfaction of believing that I’m going to let him win whatever one-sided game he’s playing.

“He is gay.”

I stumble to a stop. “Say what?”

Lucifer is standing in front of me, blocking the way to the door of the rental centre. “The rental rep. He is gay. That is why your feeble attempts to influence him didn’t work.”

“Yeah… Right…” I snap, trying to push past him. I’m not falling for whatever kind of trick this is supposed to be.

He grabs my arm. “Check that attitude before I check it for you, Unclaimed. Because you’re not going to like my methods…”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” I hit back. “Because based on what I’ve seen of your ‘methods’, they are mediocre at best.”

His eyes flash in fury. “You’ve seen nothing, angel…”

“I’m not an angel,” I deride, wrenching my arm from his grasp.

He scoffs. “Well, you’re certainly no demon. The way you’re floundering around like—”

I catch sight of something through the window. “Oh, no…”

Lucifer jerks his gaze over his shoulder…

…and before I can blink, he’s vanished into the rental centre, the glass door flapping wildly in his wake.

Catching the handle on the out-swing, I dash after him as fast as my stiletto boots can carry me… and an involuntary gasp escapes me as I lay eyes on the scene in front of me.

The rental rep is pressed up against the wall, his feet dangling a good foot off the ground as Lucifer holds him suspended with the hand locked around his neck. The phone that I’d spotted the rep frantically trying to dial a moment ago lies shattered on the floor.

“Please…” begs the man, clawing desperately at the fingers that are squashing his trachea. “I—“

“Shut up,” growls Lucifer, shoving the rep higher. “You have exactly two seconds to tell us everything we need to know before I rip your throat out. And if you even think about lying… Well, you don’t even want to go there…”

The rep blanches visibly. “Anything! I’ll… I’ll tell you anything! Please, just—“

“Ask him,” Lucifer barks without even a glance in my direction.

I take a shaky step forward. “We… We’re looking for the driver who rented the black van. License plate—”

“I… I know…” croaks the rep, his face starting to redden from the lack of oxygen. “I worked the shift and… and remember him. He never bought the van back…”

My throat tightens painfully. Because he rammed me off the road…

“Who was he?” demands Lucifer.

“Not… local,” the man rasps, struggling for breath. “Gave a hotel as an address… Hotel… Hotel Aphrodite. And his name… His name sounded strange… almost French. But he didn’t speak—”

“To Hell with all that,” comes the short-tempered command. “Give us the fucking name.”

“Am-Amidi Laurent!”

Lucifer drops the rep like a sack of trash. “You got that?”

“Yeah…” I confirm tightly, watching the man wheeze on the floor.

“Good,” he grits. “Let’s go.”

Without giving me a say in the matter, he grabs my wrist to haul me out the door.

I stumble after him like a witless marionette, trying to process what I just witnessed.

Lucifer… Willing to kill… For me…?

The concept simply does not compute.

“Happy now?”

The sound of Lucifer’s voice wrenches me from the whirlpool of my thoughts…

…and looking up, I find that we’re back out on the street, just around the corner from the rental centre.

“I…” I glance back in the direction of Global Drive with a lump in my throat. “Why did you do that?”

“To save time,” he replies dispassionately. “And get the truth out of him.”

“Yeah… But…” A shiver courses through me at the ease with which he’d immobilised the rep… The ease with which he’d threatened him. “Why?”

Lucifer lets out an exasperated exhale. “Hell’s bells, you Unclaimed are dense sometimes… Because that’s what you wanted.”

I gape at him, stupefied. This must be some kind of fever dream…

“Don’t I get a thank you?”

The simplicity of his question knocks me off kilter completely.

My eyes lift to his almost on their own volition, and I find him gazing down at me silently, intently… like a cat waiting to see in which direction the mouse will jump.

Except there is no malice or mockery in his gaze. Just plain old curiosity once again.

And because my tongue has become stuck in my throat, and after everything that’s just happened, my mind is a non-functioning mess, I do the stupidest thing imaginable…

…and reach up to kiss him on the cheek.

He stiffens — probably just as shocked by what’s happening as I would be if I could think coherently right now. But for whatever reason, he doesn’t laugh or pull away. He simply stands, still as a statue, hardly even drawing breath.

I have no idea how long we stay there, frozen in time with my lips pressed against his jaw — the heat of his skin burning me even through the dampener of his mortal guise — before we finally break apart.

I turn quickly away, face flushed and heart hammering, not being able to bring myself to look him in the eye for fear of what I might find there.

Oh, Christ… What the hell did I just do?

The story continues in Devil You Know

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#heavens secret #lucifer #devon hart #lucifer x oc #Spotify

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binarystarduet · 1 month

Text

𝙻𝚈𝙲𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚂 𝚁𝙴𝙲𝙾𝙸𝙻 — 𝙻𝙸𝙻𝙸𝚄𝙼.

@destinyfaces; type: stimboard, subject: death. don't tag as kin/me.

♡ | ♡ | ♡ | ♡ | | ♡ | ♡ | ♡ | ♡

Ta-da! How many of you were surprised I'd do Lycoris Recoil instead of Madoka Magica, or Ave Mujica? Teasing, teasing. Originally I was going to do one of the two, actually, easy for Ave Mujica because of their overall aesthetic and pmmm because of.. well. you know already. though if you want me to go crazy about that, you can always ask, hehe! I saw another person use spider lilies in their piece too (wonderful work, btw!) and so I am excited to present it to you again. we made all of the lycoris flower stims ourselves. I'm also not the best at explanations but um... I'll try. smile

What a more fitting source than one with it literally in the title, right? If two characters defeat the purpose of the prompt, have Takina be the focal point, it's who I kin after all so it is from that perspective mainly. Higanbana or Lycoris Radiata, more commonly known as the red spider lily, are flowers often associated with darkness, grief, despair, rebirth/reincarnation, and of course... death. Radiata's counterpart, Lycoris Albiflora, or white spider lilies, are associated with light, healing, freshness, renewal/reincarnation and opposite to her tragic partner... life. I felt it would be perfect to incorporate both flowers to represent both Chisato and Takina and how they reflect each other in opposite ways throughout the entire story. At first, we're shown that Chisato is a pacifist, who uses her gift and privilege to save others. Trained to be a killer with the high expectations to harm, she uses only non-lethal methods to protect herself and those around her. Lycoris Albiflora. Takina, however, is a trained killer who has been shown to have killed and was relieved of her privilege due to reckless behavior. She had to learn to take things slow, she had to learn how to show mercy. Lycoris Radiata. Though on the opposite side, Chisato's (spoilers?) looming themes of dying and/or leaving ties her to Radiata in the same sense that Takina learning to use the same non-lethal methods and being less reckless around others/protecting them connects her to Albiflora. Both of them embody life and death, one more than the other, but to me it is simply yin and yang. I also think the fact that a lycoris is still a lycoris despite what color it is... we love good motifs <3

The short explanation? I am Takina Inoue and I love Chisato, the source's whole theme surrounds the pretty red death flower, and I had this super fun idea for like a solid week since you posted the announcement and I did not want to back down on it. I hope you enjoy !! ily so muchie and congrats on 300+ you're the bestest ever .

#destinyfaces300

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pttucker · 6 months

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Okay, so, I've been thinking about some of my more recent posts and have started to combine them with some of my older posts and think I've come up with another theory that I want to throw out into the wild while we've still got like 40% of the novel left to go.

Well, actually it's not really a new theory for me per se, but I think I've finally cemented it whereas in the past I've had vague suspicions. Which has resulted in another giant post.

tl;dr: there are three stories in the novel, with the novel itself being Dokja's story and I think by the end Dokja will realize that he's inside ORV itself in a sort of Neverending Story kind of way, the Fourth Wall is between him and our world (and maybe also him and TWSA), and that the true Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint belongs to us.

So, anyway, I recently made a post about Han Sooyoung being the author of TWSA and overall I think this current arc we're going through right now is another major allegory / foreshadow for how the characters relate to TWSA, just like the Peace Land arc. But thinking on it some more, I think this arc (and possibly also Peace Land) is also showing how they relate to ORV itself.

Like, I actually even specifically said that certain passages relate to the overall plot of ORV such as this one—

Regrettably, there was no guarantee of the work ending up as a success even if the author did an excellent job. – Time to start our attack, Yoo Joonghyuk. Because the ones to complete the story were the 'Characters', not the author, that's why.

—and I think by taking that just a tiny step further, in combination with other clues, ORV itself will end up being almost a Neverending Story type of deal. Not necessarily with Dokja trying to talk to us like Sebastian and the Childlike Empress, but literally just realizing that he's a character in a novel.

Which is something Dokja has technically already realized, and maybe even unconsciously accepted, not only because of the above passage where he lowkey calls himself a character but also because he's seen that he's listed as a character when he messed around with the Fourth Wall (more on that later) and we have no idea if he recently became one or if he's always been a character and didn't realize it.

Unrestrained questions flooded my head. Why did I get this story here? What was the relationship between that story and being called a character? Was I now a character or was I still a reader? I… Was I still able to change the future?

However, I think the big reveal for Dokja is going to be not that he's a character but that the novel is not TWSA but instead ORV.

In fact, I know I've been using "TWSA" as kind of a shorthand for the world that Dokja is now in, with the scenarios and Joonghyuk and such, as compared to the "real world" he was in before as a company worker, but technically speaking TWSA is not Dokja's story. He is not inside TWSA. TWSA still exists as a completely separate text that he has access to and every time he looks at the revisions of TWSA they are still Joonghyuk's story. They go all the way up to the 1863rd round, and while Dokja is in the TWSA revisions, that's because Dokja is a part of Joonghyuk's story in the third round.

And speaking of the revisions, I kind of breezed past this in the tags of another post but Dokja got the Final Revision immediately after thinking to himself that he wants "an author" to tell him that he did good, that it's all going to work out in the end, that he's made the right choices. At the time I thought that perhaps Sooyoung could be the author of the revisions but now I don't think so anymore.

Going back through the text, the First Revision appeared when Dokja was dying in the Industrial Complex and he wanted to read TWSA to try to figure out if there was any sort of hope to fix things without having to ruin his story by killing innocent people. (And honestly he wasn't in any shape to kill people even if he wanted to at that point.) The Second Revision came after he abandoned Breaking the Sky Sword Saint to fight the outer god alone and felt like crap because of it (to be fair she shoved him through the portal while he was still trying to convince her to come) and he and Joonghyuk had a mini-conversation about what to do after and all Dokja could think of is to just keep struggling as best they can.

Basically what I'm trying to say is that all of the revisions have come when Dokja is at an extremely low point, floundering, trying to have someone tell him what to do, tell him that he's made the right choices, etc. Except not once has he actually said anything to anyone in the story around him. He didn't actually end up asking Sooyoung if he did the right thing; he wanted her to tell him it's going to be okay but he only thought it. Just like every other time the revisions have appeared. Almost like they came from someone else who can see what he's going through right then and knows he needs a little help...

Also, back when Sooyoung's version of the story first appeared, I was a little confused by the (First) after it, thinking that maybe Joonghyuk only had the first part of the story, but then later we see that Joonghyuk has 『Han Sooyoung – Records of the 1863rd turn (Last)』.

So now I don't think Sooyoung is writing the TWSA revisions, even if I do think she wrote the original TWSA, and I think that her story is also getting revised as she changes it because she is also a character in which "the ones to complete the story were the 'Characters', not the author" applies.

And speaking of the stories, I kind of went off on a sort of three, three, three tangent in the Sooyoung post, but I realize now that that can be taken even further. There's three unknown beings still left in ORV (Secretive Plotter, Oldest Dream, TWSA's Author), there's three protagonists in both TWSA and ORV, there's three people involved in a novel (Reader, Writer, Character), and there's three ways to the survive the apocalypse. Which, TWSA lists those ways as Regressor, Returnee, and Reincarnator.

But, technically, aren't we also seeing three ways to survive the apocalypse right now? Joonghyuk's way in TWSA, Han Sooyoung's way in her diary, and Dokja's way in ORV itself. Not to mention, now that I think about it, we have Regressor Joonghyuk, Returnee Dokja, and now Reincarnator Sooyoung...

Three separate stories, all sort of TWSA but not technically, more like they're all different versions of the same story. And the dokkaebi's have recently started talking about "which story will you choose" (talking to Bihyung btw, who's been helping Dokja all this time...) and everyone else in ORV keeps going on about a Single Story and how they're all vying for their true story and ending. And how maybe the true story/ending has finally come. Because this particular timeline is going through Dokja's story...which is ORV.

And too when I had the post about the "failed stories" I wondered if maybe it was foreshadowing for ORV ending in tragedy (and maybe that's still true) but also now that I think about the "failed stories" and how both Sooyoung's story and Joonghyuk's story could be considered the "failed stories" in a loose way. Granted, we don't currently know how those stories actually ended since ORV started off with Dokja waiting for the epilogue and the 1863rd ending was disrupted by Dokja, though Dokja has been pretty heavily implying that at least TWSA ended in tragedy up to the epilogue. And with the Single Story it's possible that all three of them will end up combined in the end of ORV itself.

Especially since we don't know what happened to 1864th Joonghyuk. It's possible we may see him again at the end of ORV. Also, I just realized that Joonghyuk stopped being a character when he moved past what was written in his personal story but, atm at least, he's also past ORV's story since we haven't seen him since and Dokja has no way of knowing what's going on with him.

On the topic of endings and epilogues, Dokja has been less and less willing to read TWSA as he starts living his own story and has finally outright said that he doesn't think his epilogue will be in the file. And, yeah, if Dokja's story is ORV then his epilogue would be ORV's epilogue. And ORV does have one. Even though I don't read the chapter titles ahead of time due to spoilers, I did notice when I looked to see how many total chapters ORV has that the last one had the word "epilogue" in the title.

And that's not even getting into Dokja casually stating that the novel is a lie. Which is very interesting.

And of course, there's the infamous moment where (while Dokja is sleeping I might add) the Fourth Wall starts telling the 1863rd Joonghyuk Dokya's story and it literally starts reciting the opening passages of ORV itself. And I'm pretty sure that when Sangah shoved him into it, he once again saw Dokja's story (ORV) just due to the fact that he zeroed in on not just Secretive Plotter, who doesn't appear in TWSA, but specifically all the things Secretive Plotter did in regards to and with Dokja.

In fact, as Dokja messes around with his Fourth Wall more and more, it becomes more and more sentient and present in Dokja's story (ORV) and he starts seeing things that perhaps he, as a character of ORV, was never meant to see, such as the fact that he's a character or that the Fourth Wall goes from simply blocking mental attacks to narrating Dokja's actions, reflecting his thoughts, etc. Just like ORV does for us readers.

I've actually briefly contemplated in the past that perhaps the Fourth Wall isn't necessarily protecting Dokja from the elements of TWSA, but in fact protecting him from the outside world (relevant part quoted below)—

Oh man, what if that's what it means by Fourth Wall? Instead of Dokja being a real person and the Fourth Wall existing because he knows he's not part of the novel, what if he's a character and the Fourth Wall is actually the barrier between him and the real world where the author lives? In which case, the being behind the Fourth Wall could be the author (or the reader!) of Dokja's story.

—and I then later began to wonder if it might be our world and not just some random third world inside the story of ORV, and I really do think that's the case now. Or it could be both! If I'm reading a comic about Batman who's reading a comic about Spider-Man, both I and Batman have a Fourth Wall between us and the fictional world we're reading about, ergo Batman has a Fourth Wall working both ways. (Ignore past Marvel/DC Comics team ups, pretty sure those aren't considered canon lol.)

And this is not only because of the fact that the Fourth Wall is acting more and more like a narrator (or like the third-person text of ORV) but that Dokja reacts so poorly to it going down. Sure, the first time the Fourth Wall went down a million constellations tried to attack him so that caused him issues, but later when he took down a little bit of it for the giants he was in a place with only his most trusted constellations who didn't seem to make any attempt to attack him and he only opened it up a teeny tiny amount and yet he still was physically wrecked. I don't think that he would be that affected by now by the elements of TWSA, especially since he literally learned he was a character and was freaked out for a moment but didn't have this big world-ending crisis...like he might if he attempted to connect to our world. Also, Dokja still hasn't gone back to the idea of using ORV on himself...

And on that topic, I know that I've kind of joked before that Dokja is the most oblivious person ever for someone who also happens to be able to read various characters' minds and see their actions, but honestly speaking there are tons of parts of ORV that are from other POVs that Dokja has never and likely will never see. I actually started tracking them about a hundred chapters back and we get a different POV, even if it's just a few paragraphs, almost every third or fourth chapter. And they're all from the third-person POV, just like how the Fourth Wall speaks.

Meaning that the true omniscient reader's viewpoint is ours.

PS: a very weak "clue" that I'm not really "officially" including is also the fact that The World After The Fall is mentioned as a book that Dokja has read and that's a real webnovel written by the same authors as ORV. I'm not really counting that since I do understand the concept of a cheeky little cameo but it could still be fun to at least acknowledge the possibility that it's something that secretly indicates that Dokja is maybe a little more connected with our world than any of the others.

PPS: I think if I find time this weekend I'm gonna go back through at tag everything or make a list of all my posts or something. Trying to find links for this majorly sucked and I just kind of gave up at points lmfao.

#I swear all I do lately is wander around in a daze thinking about ORV #I took a shower and zoned out so hard contemplating this theory I couldn't remember if I washed my hair or not #And then I got to work and realized I forgot to take my medication #ORV IS LITERALLY GOING TO KILL ME #lol I think I'm a bit tuckered out from all this theorizing all at once #well at least all this long form theorizing/meta analysis #time to go back to my regularly scheduled programming where I just react to dokja being a little shit and everyone else going along with it #orv #orv spoilers #orv liveblog #orv novel chapter 377 #omniscient reader's viewpoint #long post #kdj #yjh #hsy

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lord-squiggletits · 1 month

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Salty Ask List: 1, 5, 14, 22 ?

1.What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?

Dr/atc/het 100000%... I just don't understand what their chemistry is supposed to be together. It's partially ruined for me by Drift in MTMTE being an absolute mess of a character who got most of his planned plotlines cut or changed, and partially ruined by the fact Drift spends most of MTMTE straight up absent from the story, and then he and Ratchet meet up in Empire of Stone and come back during Dying of the Light and are just...together romantically now? I don't understand how they have any chemistry at all much less romantic lskdjflkds

I know a big one people talk about is "Ratchet saved Drift's life and then told him he believed in him" but... the way their meeting was written didn't come off as particularly romantic to me? Ratchet saved Drift the same way he's saved countless other addicts in the Dead End and then his parting words to Drift were to tell him to go to the Functionists so they could get him a job. Very "pull yourself up by the bootstraps" kind of advice that clearly didn't work since Drift stayed impoverished, his friend got killed by police brutality, he went into the underworld to be a hitman, etc etc. Like yeah in theory it's very romantic for an OTP's first meeting to be one of them saving the other's life and treating the impoverished person kindly for possibly the first time in their life. It's just that that moment in canon doesn't have romantic vibes to me at all, it's just a doctor-patient encounter in which Ratchet is nice to Drift like he's nice to everyone, except it's also kind of condescending/ignorant bc Ratchet basically tells Drift "oh just get a job and get clean and you'll be fine" as if it's that easy to stop being a homeless/jobless drug addict?? If an ER doctor did that shit to me I'd be more likely to see him as an asshole than to admire or like him at all sdklfjsd.

Then Drift was a Decepticon for millions of years, then he joined the Autobots on Earth and like... he and Ratchet sure existed on the same team together dlkfjldsjlkds there were zero interactions of worth b/t them in phase 1, their ship dynamic came entirely from JRO's writing and even then I feel like it's an informed romance more than an organic and believable one.

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

I actually used to like O/Pli/ta when I first came here, but as I stayed longer it became evident that the overwhelming majority of the fan content of it reeks of "we are very sorry for having a heterosexual ship, let us compensate for it by making the woman a Girlboss Xtreme and the man a weak simp so that you can be sure the woman isn't being Oppressed and Stereotyped by being in a heterosexual romantic relationship" which is one of my most detested types of fan content, so now I have the ship tag blocked sldkfjlsdkdskl. Literally it's just the same "the woman is a TOTALLY COMPETENT AND COOL ACTION HERO and her man is a TOTAL SIMP FOR HER" that's interchangeable with most het ships in other fandoms, where there's no actual personality or chemistry for them and instead it's just the same Fandom Approved Heterosexual Relationship Dynamic.

That and a significant amount of content I see for it is just like blatantly ripped off from Me/go/p dslkfjsdfsjl or like, taking the main MOP dynamic and just swapping OP and Elita's places so now Elita is the cool action hero who's rival to Megatron and OP just Exists as an emotional support husband I guess. Or like Elita is made into a daring action hero while Optimus is reduced to a meek little wallflower who's no one of any real importance and just follows in her wake. It reeks of insecurity and unoriginality, as if the fanbase is cripplingly aware that Elita was made to be the Token Girlfriend and instead of just making her a better character and making the romance she's a part of more equal and compelling for both characters, they have to violently overcompensate by having Elita steal OP's role and everything interesting about him. 😂Like I'm begging people to just be normal about hetero ships. You can ship a man and a woman together without having to diminish the man and girlbossify the woman to prove you're a Real Feminist.

14. Unpopular opinion about your fandom?

Continuity soup is boring and for the most parts creates purely fanon plots/ideas/characterizations that have tenuous relationships to actual canon. It's nice that people have the creativity to make their own AUs, but I also want to read about the actual continuity in question and not someone's mishmash of it.

Like UGH when I read a fic tagged IDW1 I want to see cop Orion not archivist or dockworker Orion. When I read a fic tagged IDW1 I want to read about the Senate led by Proteus and the reigns of Nova/Nominus/Sentinel/Zeta, not about the Council from TFP. When I read a fic tagged IDW1 MegOP I want Orion being a simp for Megatron after reading his stuff/meeting him one (1) time sdkflsdkf not yet another iteration of the tired "one day an archivist and a gladiator became great friends! then they broke up."

It's not hate for other continuities, I'm just tired of the fact that continuity soup is so prevalent that even when I'm specifically filtering for content of the one continuity I want to read about, the fics I find keep having random shit from other continuities interjected into it. I think each continuity has really interesting takes on lore that have potential to be wholly unique for each one, so it's really frustrating when the average fic I can find is just a random mishmash of continuity elements, or more often than not just an IDW knockoff taking place in a separate continuity. Like guys, I'm an IDW stan myself, but wouldn't it be cool if we got more fics that explored ideas that only happen in G1, or only happen in Animated, or Aligned, etc?

Doesn't help that when I AM looking specifically for IDW stuff, most of the content I look at (MOP) does continuity soup for the sake of replacing IDW OP with some sort of aligned/g1 lite OP which makes me salty as hell

22. Popular character you hate?

Drift for sure sdklfsdlk. I mean when I first read about him in the comics (the Drift miniseries) I was like, he's fine I guess he's an action hero whatever. But then literally the more of the comics I read the more his personality and story were just incredibly corny, stereotypical, or boring as hell no matter what writer was controlling him. And he got bounced around between writers a lot, and then even the "main author" people know Drift from (JRO) kept changing his plans for what Drift was supposed to be (and cutting plots related to him) so any hints towards a storyline went nowhere. And then Drift spent basically all of MTMTE gone elsewhere on some exile-adventure, and then during LL he just kind of. Is there, existing.

So like, honestly Drift is a victim of getting bounced back and forth and having his writing changed so often he doesn't reach his full potential, which isn't really "his fault" as a character. It just so happens that I also think the bits of his character that exist are either boring or overhyped or in one case (portrayal of his religion/religious worldbuilding in general) outright offensive. He's basically written like some hippie stereotype with vaguely Asian/Japanese flavoring (the extent of which is basically his name + fighting style) and then he barely like... does anything in the plot? I think he's supposed to be like, ~mysterious and shifty~ but then all of the plotlines that involved him being a secret traitor got cut, so Drift basically just became Weirdly Suspicious For No Reason and his genuine personality/motivations felt indistinguishable from what he was faking and what plots got cut from him. Absolute mess of a character that got almost no payoff for any of the things planned for him, and all that's left is some kooky hippie personality of "hee hoo I believe in auras and mystical vibes and magical colors, also I'm dating an atheist who's openly dismissive of most of my religious beliefs (that I do or don't actually believe in depending on what part of the story I'm in) and this somehow doesn't get in the way of our personal/romantic chemistry

But then the fanbase are basically making him some kind of Gary Stue, obsessed with making headcanons like "Deadlock wrote/edited Megatron's speeches for him too!" and "Drift defected from the Decepticons to try and make a point to Megatron!" and generally trying to make him the Decepticons' Specialest Boy Ever and it's just. Ugh I get that he was under-written in canon, but every bit of fanon I've encountered doesn't make him interesting either. They just kind of make Drift the center of the world where he's actually the coolest, most talented and interesting person ever where other characters owe their accomplishments partially to his influence and I'm just. I don't get it, I don't understand the appeal of fanon and I don't even understand the appeal of canon either. I think part of it is for representation reasons (e.g. Asian, lower class, former drug addict) and it's nice that people can pull something meaningful out of the mess that is canon. It's just for me, canon Drift is so mediocre I don't get why anyone would even WANT him as representation sdlkfjsdlkf. I guess fixing what the writers failed to explore the potential of is an understandable motivation though.

#squiggle answers #long post #as far as asian coded tf characters go cyc and WB have mountains more character and meaningful plot imo #plus their depictions of religiousness are way less offensive and actually play more importantly into their characters #like idk am i the only one who thinks most of JRO's worldbuilding re: religion is an absolute joke #it's a combination of multiple antagonists who are religious zealots (not offensive on its own though)#plus very shallowly explored religious beliefs that mainly come up for plot reasons #plus a lot of the religious beliefs that DO come up are like incredibly unimaginative and boring and stereotypical #plus the plot basically being a deconstruction of the entire religion like. sike all of the ppl you worshipped and myths you believed in #were lies. they're all assholes and also cyberutopia doesn't exist #it's just one of those things where in isolation/in theory none of these religion related things are offensive in and of themselves #but when they're all stacked together it comes off as a kind of Reddit Atheist view of religion #where the more religious a character is the more likely they are to be evil or literally insane/mentally ill #and what religion IS represented is portrayed as nothing more than like. paint colors and a few holidays #as if religion is nothing more than an aesthetic as opposed to a whole philosophy/way of life w a lot of htought behind it

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sumeru-academy · 2 years

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Material world.

synopsis: after going on double dates to exploit for gifts, yelan finds herself falling in love with you, her best friend

character(s): yelan.

warning(s): friends to lovers, double dates and terrorizing men, don’t take it too seriously, it’s not targeting everyone.

note(s): female reader, no use of y/n, reader’s exact sexuality is unspecified but she is interested in women.

i had way too much fun writing this. also happy elysia day. :)

⎯⎯mod alice 🦋

"Aw, rich boy! Is that for me?"

With a faux gasp of surprise she knew all too well, you slipped a golden earpiece right through your earlobe and clipped it onto your helix. She thought it was a gorgeous piece on you, and perhaps the men did, too—the way its chain dangled so delicately between your hair strands.

But Yelan swore she admired it much more than they did, though she wasn't even the one who got it for you.

Your date, who she couldn't remember the name of—well, let's just call him Man #1—was a wealthy man. Big Liyuean company. Financial manager. High class citizen.

And, a total degenerate for women.

Yelan had a good eye for prices. That dainty little accessory hanging off your ear was probably worth her own total salary in a week, which was hefty, to say the least. She found herself almost smiling in delight at the thought of you receiving such a gift from this man. She eyed you so fondly, in fact, that it almost seemed like she wasn't also on a date herself.

Her own date—who we'll call Man #2—sat at her side, watching as she aww'ed over you. If she knew any better, then she'd realize that he was holding a gift box of his own, one he wanted to give to her.

Instead, she stared at you with a sort-of dumb smile that Man #2 couldn't quite describe, though it was quite clear that he was not the object of her attention. She paid him no mind as she fawned over you instead, so it should've been more than obvious to him that she wasn't really interested in their date.

But men like these two were terrible at picking up hints, weren't they?

"Yelan..." Man #2 stuttered. When she clearly didn't hear him (or, was much too focused on you to even hear anything), he repeated himself but louder this time, albeit shaky. "Y... Yelan...!"

"Huh?"

She seemed annoyed at first glance—because who dared to interrupt whatever she was doing? Actually, it seemed like she even forgot he was even there. And how absurd, what would they call a gold digger who forgets her own date! Though, he supposed it was different since it was not his gift in which she was getting distracted by.

"Oh, it's just you," she waved off rather dismissively. "What did you want?"

"I... um..." With shaky fingers, Man #2 uncovered a box in his sweaty hands. It was designed with a diamond-shaped leather pattern, not to mention dyed a luxurious-looking dark green. The packaging itself was expensive—one could only imagine the contents of the inside. "I thought you might like this..."

Man #2 let out a sheepish laugh, worried that his gift might be tasteless compared to the one Man #1 gave you despite the earpiece being less expensive.

Were you and Yelan the type of women to value design or the price tag more? He had no idea.

You gasped when he opened the lid, a beautiful silver bling dazzling against the light. The necklace was positively stunning, and both you and your date looked impressed. Man #2 felt relieved at your reactions, though he unfortunately could not say the same about his own date. Yelan... didn't seem to react yet. Blank stare, straight faced.

Silver...

She pondered the necklace quite carefully. It was beautiful—wildly expensive, even. With the sapphire in the middle, it was clear that Man #2 took the time to pick one so tasteful—one that complimented the blue of her eyes and her aesthetic so well. But all she could think was...

Will this look good on her?

Yelan thought about the gift you just got from your date.

No, but the gold earpiece fit her so well. This one doesn't match.

"Hm, is there a gold version of this?"

You gasped, "Yelan!"

Upon hearing the panic in your voice, she immediately snapped out of her little daze and turned back to look at you. Your eyes were trained in a slight glare as if telling her "Watch your words." She didn't like it when you were upset with her.

After mouthing a small sorry, Yelan turned back to her date and said, "I mean, wouldn't a fully gold version be much cheaper? Please, you shouldn’t have gotten me silver and this gorgeous sapphire—oh, you're far too kind!" Her hand pressed against her chest quite dramatically as she spoke, as if his gift meant the world to her... or... something like that.

Man #2's shoulder's seemed to completely relax at her (totally faked) reaction. Though, she supposed that even if she said it sarcastically, this man still would've believed it.

"Oh, there's no need, Yelan!" He spoke so frantically and breathlessly. She almost recoiled in reaction. "You're so pretty, I went through all the jewelers in Liyue to find something that can match your beauty! Did you know that very few sell sapphires? This shape is actually called a princess cut, and I thought that—"

She forgot that these types of men always gave too much information.

You both laughed into the night, walking home alone together in the countryside.

"I could've totally guilt-tripped him into exchanging it for something more a more fitting color."

"But then we'd have to see him again!" you scolded through your laughter.

"Ugh, that's true."

Sharing a home with you was a luxury Yelan held dearly, like it was her one true treasure. Sure, you were roommates under the relationship as "best friends," but she could live with it.

As long as she still got to do this—got to walk with you home in the dead of night, marveling over your expensive gifts from the men you just ditched together—then she'll have it no other way. Even if it meant she would never confess her feelings for you.

"Want the ear piece?" you offered, pointing at the gold accessory that was still dangling from your ear. "I saw you eyeing it earlier."

"You don't want it?" she asked a bit incredulously. And when you shrugged in indifference, she said, "But it looks good on you."

"I'll keep it if you say so, and if you don't want it." She shook her head; you only smiled at her. "As for the necklace you got, did you say you wanted it in gold instead? We can try trading tomorrow."

Yelan moved her hand to touch the jewelry at her neck, though she felt quite uncomfortable. "Nah, I'd rather we just sell it." There was no use if it didn't look good on you, too. "I don't think I'm in any need of necklaces right now. Plus, we can totally market this for a high price and use that money to buy more stuff for ourselves. What do you think?"

"I always love you and your brilliance."

That shouldn't have affected her as much as it did. "I always love you." Sure there was a second part to what you said, but she already tripped at the first. If you only loved her ideas, you wouldn't have mentioned that you loved her first, right? Did you deliberately word it like this? Were you trying to make her react this way? Were your words only in a platonic sense?

Did you even think about her as much as she thought about you?

She hated this. Why in the world was she overthinking a set of four words?

"So let's head down to the market in the morning, then?" Yelan offered, trying to keep her voice leveled and cool. "If we play our bargaining skills well enough, then maybe we can get something cute to match your new earpiece."

"Aw, but I'd rather we pick out something for you."

Why did you always have to care for her in a way that made her heart explode?

You continued, "Because it's unfair if I got something for myself, but you didn't get anything at all. So let's trade your necklace for something you like, alright?"

She could only sigh. You were stubborn. So, so stubborn.

"Alright."

Another night, another set of two men dropped after a date.

"These men were much cheaper compared to others," Yelan scoffed. She walked with you in disappointment, twirling a pipe around her fingers. How tasteless of a gift... She didn't even smoke! That new man probably got it for her just because he was a heavy smoker himself.

"Oh, tell me about it," you groaned in agreement. "All I got was perfume and a tiny lipstick? Not even jewelry?"

With a click and a nudge of her arm, the front door to your little house unlocked and opened. The two of you slung inside like any other night—and she supposed this was just routine by now. Find two wealthy men, then seduce them. Convince them to go on a double date, then hint that you'd like gifts. See them at night, then play the act. Promise them you'll meet again, then take their riches.

Ditch them, then... go home together.

As best friends.

Yelan shook her head, going back to the topic of your gifts. "A person should know that gifting perfume on the first date connotes that he thinks you smell bad."

"And now I feel insulted!" you gasped. "Does he really think that?"

"No, no, he's just a terrible gift giver," your best friend waved off. "He clearly doesn't know the meanings behind gifts if he can't even get you something good." And, you deserve so much more, anyways.

"Hm, you're right," you hummed; and as she sat down on the couch, Yelan couldn't help but stare at how pretty you looked all worried and perplexed. The moonlight spilled through the window and drowned you in its rays, creating quite the shining light on you—an image she found herself staring at much more often than the glimmer of any gold or silver.

The ocean she's created was one she could not cross, and no lucky dice could possibly pull her towards your grace.

"And what did you get?" you called out to her, making your way towards a mirror on the other side of your living room. Yelan, still seated on the couch, started at your reflection subconsciously.

She cockily smirked, "Designer handbag."

"Oh, you lucky fox," you gasped. "Your man was so much better than mine!"

"Definitely."

You didn't respond, but Yelan heard a little snap! from your direction. It was likely you just opened and closed the little lipstick case. Another little click, and she watched you raise your arm to bring the color to your mouth.

Dark, pale pink.

She wasn't sure what it was, but there was something about this specific shade that just didn't suit you. Maybe it was mixed too much with another tone, or not enough of it. But either way, it wasn't quite perfect on you.

You scoffed towards the mirror, "This doesn't even match me—these rich men really don't know how to pick a lip color, do they?"

"What a waste," Yelan sighed. She slumped on the cushions and closed her eyes, trying to picture a price that would be worthy of a tiny lipstick that was already swatched once—if they could even sell it at all. "We can try handing it off to some secondhand places, like maybe—"

"Here, let's see it on you, instead."

When she reopened her eyes, you were no longer at the mirror. Instead, you were in front of her—hovering right over her seated form on the couch, actually. The sudden proximity was alarming, and she would've fallen back had it not been for the couch supporting her body.

"Try... what...?"

"The lipstick, idiot."

And in seconds, you leaned down to capture her face in one of your hands, tilting it upwards so she drowned in your gaze. Waves crashed against the pit of her stomach immediately, and it felt like she was suffocating with the way you stood so close to her. She was practically trapped, sinking in your currents—the way you stood in front of her as she sat still, your body placed between her legs.

Your thumb brushed on her lower lip, pushing it down as you finally pressed the lipstick against her upper lip. And your gaze, God—the way you stated so intently down at her lips made her think of crazy things. Your breath on her skin, your hand on her face...

She leaned up without thinking and kissed you.

You backed away immediately on instinct, the lipstick smearing against her cheek. Her lips chased yours for just a moment, but they ultimately connected for only a second until you backed away.

"Oh, I—"

"Yelan?"

"Oh, I'm so so sorry."

She threw her upper body back on the couch, covering her face in her hands in absolute embarrassment. Her face was burning, and her stomach practically dropped in heavy regret from her actions. How could one close moment make her lose control like that?

"Hey... Hey, look at me," you quietly called to her. But you had to grab her wrists yourself since she would not budge, pulling her hands away from her face. She still turned away from you, however, trying to stay back even as you pulled her closer.

One of your hands immediately reached out to grab her face again, this time rubbing at the skin of her cheek with your thumb. She supposed you were trying to remove the lipstick that smeared. How embarrassing.

"If you wanted me to apply the lipstick on you like that, you could've just asked."

"Pardon?"

She watched you purse your lips together, rubbing around the lipstick you applied on yourself just minutes ago while you were at the mirror. And then you leaned in, pulling her closer unexpectedly and kissing her once again.

Only when you began moving your lips against hers, did Yelan realize you were applying your lipstick on her via this kiss. But she couldn't protest, not when this kiss was so sweet and intimate. You were so sensual with her, in a way that exceeded her dreams of you.

And when you finally backed away, staring down at her lips, she was still dazed.

"There," you mumbled. Your eyes were locked on her lips which were just on yours a moment ago. She only hoped you were thinking more than just the color, because her own mind was a thunderstorm right now. "It looks good on you. The lipstick shade, keep it for yourself."

"...Thanks."

"And let's go on a date tomorrow, yeah? Just the two of us," you told her. She swore she was probably dreaming, and so she shot back snarkily.

"What, you want me to give you an expensive gift this time?"

You playfully hit her on the shoulder and laughed, "Yelan!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean it!" she quickly defended in panic. "But yes, let's... go on a date."

But as best friends... or...?

"Yelan, we just kissed twice and you're really asking me if we're going as friends? No, I meant it as an actual date."

Oh. She said that aloud.

"Just like that?" Yelan blurted. She really couldn't believe it. Would it be rude of her to say she had no idea you were into women? This whole time, double date after double date, she thought you were either into men or just not into dating at all.

"Yeah?"

She blinked. And then again. So, you were actually serious. She couldn't really tell what that feeling was in her stomach—whiplash from the sudden revelation, or happy butterflies from the notion that you like her, too? Yelan just shook her head, deciding to forget it for now.

"Well, then," she sighed. Then she yanked at your arm, pulling you down until you landed right on top of her with a little yelp. Her arms encircled your waist immediately, and you found yourself scrambling to find a comfortable position.

Yelan leaned in for one more peck, before smiling against your lips, "I guess it's my turn to spoil you better than all those men, hm?"

#mod alice 🦋#yelan x reader #yelan #yelan x you #yelan x y/n #genshin yelan #yelan genshin impact #gi yelan

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leaderintitleonly · 24 days

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GET TO KNOW ME MEME ! (hallo new followers)

NAME: Fiery-mun! PRONOUNS: she/her/they/them/call me a slur and I cry so don't do that :( SEXUALITY: bisexual or pansexual something with sprinklings of demiromantic and medical asexuality in there... call me a soup instead SINGLE / TAKEN: Engaged. @wishingxuponxstars fiancé right here.

THREE FACTS

[x] I suffer from CRPS. I'm not just a zebra, I'm a freaking unicorn. Hah. If you're disabled and you have something rare, you get that joke. I'm gonna go cry now. [x] I'm a Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs superfan and I have a massive collection. I've been collecting since I was three and I've been amassing Disney animation textbooks that focus mostly on Snow White. Yeah you probably hear that Ron Swanson quote in your head. [x] The first ever character I rped was Vegeta from Dragon Ball Z if you can believe it.

HOW LONG: I was nine and I lied about my age to get into a forum. Wandered into an rp section and the rest is history. WHAT PLATFORMS: Neopets and AIM chatrooms. Yep, I'm old! There's also some Gaia Online in there, too. Oh and I was on the World of Warcraft rp servers, too. Argent Dawn and Feathermoon! BEST EXPERIENCE: A long long time ago there was this modern take we did on Snow White where Doc was running this house of runaway/misfit children. It didn't last as long as we wanted it to, but we all had an amazing time. I played Dopey with CIPA (Congenital insensitivity to pain and anhydrosis) so he'd end up with injuries from things that people would normally know not to do, like touching a hot electric stove or running into something and accidentally breaking a bone.

MUSE TYPE

FEMALE OR MALE: Forgotten sidekick character with queer coding. FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: Well I only do fluff or angst these days. Both are part of a balanced breakfast. Sometimes I gravitate towards one or the other if I'm feeling sad. The sadder I am, the more I want to take it out on my muses. So I'll do angst when I'm not feelin great. IF MAMA AIN'T HAPPY, NOBODY HAPPY! PLOTS OR MEMES: I've been doing a lot of memes lately because I just don't have the strength to think of plots anymore and I'm very sorry. It must seem really impersonal. :( I miss doing plots. But I also feel like I'm physically dying. If you want to tag me in a starter I'll answer it eventually. I'm just tired...and in pain. LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: I'll always just dump my characters feelings and I'm sorry. It always comes out long. Sorry. I'm sorry, you just give my characters a lot to think about. :( BEST TIME TO WRITE: I'm on EST. That said... I'm still adjusting to my new house. I've been sleeping a lot lately and I'm in a lot of pain. :( So there's really no "good" time other than I'm trying. Sorry. ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): Maybe they all have a small piece of them in me, but overall? Not really. And it's more fun to write people completely opposite than me. But sometimes I feel really old. Maybe not Doc level of ancient old. But the aches and pains make me feel old af. TAGGED BY: @aethramusings (keeses softly) TAGGING: steal it you animal, i did this cause my body aches need a distraction rn

#heigh ho mun

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jedimaster3000 · 2 years

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Shelter

Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ (NO MINORS)

Fluff, some angst, smut.

Warnings: Infidelity, language, explicit smut (handjob, piv sex). Please let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 2.6k+

A/N: I’m so sorry this took me so long! I’ve been really busy with college and work but I’ve been thinking about this two non-stop. This chapter is filled with Gabriel Garcia Marquez quotes and references, pardon me, I just thought it was beautiful. I hope you enjoy, thank you for interacting and thank you for reading!

Masterlist | Tag List Form | Part 3

“My dad said the date is set.”

The words dropped from your mouth with practiced lightness but for Frankie, no mattress could have made the fall feel softer. Instead snapping back into reality with something similar to a hit to the face or a punch to his chest.

He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. Did you even expect him to say anything? You always sat on the facts and ignored them, you took your engagement ring out and forgot about its shine on Frankie’s bedside table.

But this time it was shining brighter, not in a beautiful, star-like way. But in a house-consuming fire type of way. Trying to swallow you whole and never let you go, trying to remain in your finger forever.

Every passing day was a reminder. Your mom sending you more pictures of floral arrangements or wedding dresses, your friends talking about your bachelorette party, and your dad… your dad.

He mentioned it —bragged, actually— about it to every single one of his friends, who couldn’t care less because they had seen you five times tops in their entire lifetime. He called Ethan and offered his help in anything. He reassured you that he would be a great dancer by the time the reception took place.

And you dreaded all of it, had your heart in the back of your throat every time someone brought the topic up. The ring started to feel heavier, sometimes itching or maybe burning your skin, you would never know. You only knew you craved to take it off more and more often.

Frankie was the relief you felt every time you took it off. As if you had gotten away from prison and you had 12 hours to run around. The moments after removing it were filled with passion, adrenaline, and real love, unlike the other times.

You never brought the actual topic up, the wedding. You tried so hard to forget it. But after seeing your dad that morning you couldn’t hold it inside for too long, the burning had started early and by the afternoon it felt a bit too suffocating.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I’m sorry but you know…”

He knew. He didn’t want to, but he knew. The wedding was a real thing, and it was going to happen.

Frankie wasn’t afraid of dying, soldiers like him weren’t supposed to be. He was afraid of snakes, and tornadoes, and most of all he was afraid of losing you. So he preferred death to be parted from you. Even in any complicated way that he could have you, he accepted, and here were the consequences, looming from the shadows a little more every day.

He did what he had become great at, he brushed it all off. Quickly tried to find a way to make you forget about it so it wouldn’t bother you or him, at least for the time being. It was a game that the two of you had created and then become masters at.

How long would you be able to keep it up? The date was set, and the countdown had begun.

The words you had said were left hanging around the two of you, making you uncomfortable and purposely keeping your feet on the earth. A beating reminder that this moment you had was just that, an hour —or two sometimes— at a time, pure gold and more than Frankie thought he deserved.

Frankie closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again.

Not today. I choose. Not today.

He shook it off and deposited a soft kiss on your forehead as you got comfortable leaning on him, your legs extended on his couch as you opened your book again.

“What’s this word?” You asked and pointed at one, “Iu…iunic?” You tried to pronounce it.

“Única,” Frankie answered in his fluent Spanish, “Means unique.”

“Uh, you’re right,” you mentioned taking a look at the English page of the bilingual version of Love in the Time of Cholera that you were currently reading.

Única.

Frankie Morales knew from a very young age that you were the only woman he could ever love. With all the intensity that word implied, he knew that no one else could ever take your place in that definition. He was convinced love looked like you.

He saw it in the way you smiled, he found it hidden behind your eyes, and he heard it in the melody of your laugh. Frankie had not fallen in love, love had fallen on top of him, suddenly and violently. He was filled by it and completely blinded, he thought the worst parts of you were the brightest ones, the way you yelled at someone when you were truly mad, the desperate cries when things didn’t turn out your anxieties consumed you to the point of exasperation, the occasional fight about a whim. It was all wonderful, all human, and all goddess at the same time.

But he did not embrace the feeling until the moment he came back, when he finally knew that he should have never left, when he admitted nothing could be done about it and he was just immersed in you so deeply he felt his soul was no longer just his.

He could not understand how every man wasn’t in love with you, he didn’t understand why every person in a room didn’t turn to look when you entered, but he was happy he was the one that did, he had always loved observing you.

Just like now you frowned as you silently tried to pronounce the Spanish words, he couldn’t look away, fascinated by the mundanity of you. He was under some spell he didn’t know and didn’t want to break free of.

Frankie also knew he was not a perfect man, he was far from it. No one but his own self reminded him of that constantly, he felt unworthy of your trust, of your time, so he valued it like no man could ever before or after him.

His eyes redirected when you paid him a compliment, he blushed when you said you liked his hair or his patchy beard. The most beautiful thing about him was how clueless he was about how adorable he actually was, it was definitely your favorite thing about him.

García Márquez had himself written about that in the book you were currently re-reading: “He is sad but he is all love”.

He had a way of loving where he gave even what he didn’t have. It was lovely, it was hopeless, it was real.

“I’m gonna need you there.”

Your words were once again suspended midair.

“I will be there,” he responded.

And you turned to see him.

“But you know you don’t have to…”

You pressed your hand to his chest and connected with his eyes. The same Frankie you had gotten used to in the last months was there, breath-taking, kind, broken, but nevertheless unconditional.

“I will be there.”

He promised it, and it hurt like hell. To promise the love of your life that you’d be there as they were promised to someone else. But he couldn’t fail you, he had never failed you before.

Frankie giggled, “Do you think the priest will know?”

And you followed with a giggled yourself, “Is that what’s making you nervous?”

“To be chased out of the church while a man in a gown throws water at me would certainly be memorable,” he continued laughing as you did.

“It wouldn’t be the first time someone chases after you with water, remember Jessica Johnson’s party in junior year?”

Frankie shook his head in embarrassment as he remembered the time his shirt had caught on fire when he was drunk and then ran around the whole house with the owner trying to throw a bucket full of water at him. All while you couldn’t stop laughing at his terrified face.

“I looked amazing in that crop top,” he said with fake modesty and you nodded as you went back to asking him how to pronounce certain words from your book.

All the different types of love authors write about were never enough, all different languages and pens were needed to describe the love that had grown between the two of you. Bring Emily Brontë, Gabriel García Márquez, Jane Austen, Pablo Neruda, hell, maybe even Shakespeare. Put them on a round table and have them all put into words what you two meant for each other, and ask them to find a way, a storyline where you can find your happy ending.

Emily and Neruda would probably come up with some poetic lines about how you were so bad at talking about it but felt so strongly attached to him, Jane and García Márquez would write some eventful love confessions from Frankie, and Shakespeare would write the most outrageous world where through misfortunes and mishaps, he’d finally give you a beautiful wedding where the priest doesn’t chase Frankie or give you a plan to fake your death, and instead just bonds you together for eternity.

Have the writers discuss your stares, your eyes that were so different and so deep. Yours, filled with tears and lacking any happiness, and Frankie’s that hid pain and were inundated with some hope. And the moment they found each other, the sunlight that beams and seems to come out of the two pairs looking at each other.

The electricity whenever any part of you touched and the storm of passion that followed and only finished when you shared one last kiss before you ran to your car while putting your ring back on.

Maybe write the tragedy that the two of you were going through, that even though there were so many things tying you to each other, there were also a lot of things keeping you apart. Heavy pieces and big spaces that neither of you knew how to destroy.

Have them write about the love, the pain, the kisses, and the feelings of longing. If it could never materialize you sure would read the book over and over again, keeping it alive in your memory and replaying it as you did with all your favorite books.

Would that be enough?

You were kissing him as you put a bookmark on the page you had stopped reading and then you let it fall on the side of the couch.

His lips pressed into yours almost furiously, claiming you with all eagerness and strength that only characterized him. His hands kept you flushed against him on your lower back as your tongues danced.

The world faded again.

Your hands were soon on his hair, running desperately as he bit your lower lip.

“You think…” you whispered in between kisses, “You think somebody will ever know?”

Frankie turned you over, laying you on your back without separating from you.

“I should tell them,” he said.

His hands went under your blouse and slowly began lifting it as his face remained an inch away from you. His touch was soft yet invasive in the best way possible. He was completely drunk on you.

“I should tell everyone,” he kissed your naked chest, “That you’re the best thing in my life.”

Your own hands took his shirt away while you two continued kissing. You kissed him as if you had all the time in the world, and he kissed you as if you could slip away any second now. There still was a rhythm to it, your rhythm. You just followed until it took you to the most glorious moment.

After your first orgasm, you begged Frankie to let you ride him as if he needed any convincing. You pushed him back slowly until he completely laid down.

With one thigh on each side of his, you sat straight, looking down on him as you grabbed his cock with your right hand. You stroke him up and down and his head sank on a cushion as he grunted your name.

“This okay?” You asked.

“Fuck baby…” he said with his eyes tight shut.

“Look at me Frankie,” you asked.

You always wanted every bit of intimacy with him and it drove him absolutely crazy.

When he opened his eyes he found you licking your other hand so you could now use both to stroke him at a perfect pace.

His own hips dragged slowly as he watched you give him pleasure, he noticed every motion of your body and it turned him on even more. Your small hands in comparison to his length, the sheen over your tits, and the subtle rocking motion you did trying to soothe yourself. Your eyes were lost with lust and a whine came out of you, you needed to have him inside you.

“Ride me beautiful,” he asked in a low voice, “ride me and make yourself come.”

You slowly lowered yourself on his cock, feeling him part you and hissing at the initial sensation.

“You okay?” Frankie asked.

“Yeah,” you sat down and stilled, “It’s just… Uhm we haven’t— we haven’t done this in like a week and you…” you tilted your head to the side as you tried to experimentally roll your hips.

“You’re so big, fuck…” you moaned.

He groaned at the tight feel of you around his cock and intertwined both of your hands together before giving you a reassuring nod, to let you know you could do this on your terms.

When you felt open enough, you rolled your hips again, the feeling becoming more and more comfortable. You used his hands as support and began a slow and steady pace that made you feel every vein, he was reaching the point of you that made you lose your mind, pressing into it over and over again, making you writhe with pleasure and repeat his name begging for this to never stop.

Your head fell backward and your jaw slacked open with a moan. He began to slowly move just in time with you, your whines, and the sight of your bouncing breasts and beautiful body bringing him closer every second.

“Frankie…” you cried out.

“It’s okay baby, I know…” he grunted your name again, “You’re doing so good.”

Your pace went up in speed and quickly you were screaming Frankie’s name as you came undone, you released his hands so you could hold your own shoulders trying not to fall backward. He held on to your hips as he fucked you through your orgasm. The feel of him through the aftershocks making you jolt with waves of pleasure.

He whispered to you how good you were doing, how beautiful you looked, how much he loved taking you.

“Fuck,” you whispered with your eyes closed, “There’s no one like you…”

He came inside you, filling you with his cum and you sighed at the warm feeling. Then he met you halfway to hug and kiss you deeply, with his cock still inside you.

Your arms snaked behind his shoulders and he held you so close to him that there was no air in between the two of you.

The kiss was one of those that read as a thank you. Thank you for being here, and thank you for making me feel good.

You pressed more kisses to his face when you separated which caused him to lightly giggle at the soft sensation.

“That priest is definitely gonna run after me,” he joked, “You should confess now before it’s too late. He could get really mad.”

Just in time, the book you had been reading came into your field of view and a particular line made its way into your brain.

“There’s no God worth worrying about. It’s all you,” you said looking into his eyes.

Funny enough, Frankie had never read a single word of any of Gabriel García Márquez’ books. But at that moment, when no specific date mattered, when no one else but you existed, when you said those words and his heart filled with adoration, he understood why people were afraid of dying.

Only God knows how much I love you.

- - -

Taglist: @the-ginger-hedge-witch @gracie7209 @greeneyedblondie44 @fiscinthirst

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales series #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales one shot #triple frontier #frankie morales fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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thegreatwicked · 1 year

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Shadows of Deception Chapter One

The Great Wicked

Summary: In Gotham City, a world of secrets and danger, Belladonna finds herself embroiled in a web of crime when she becomes a witness to illicit activities at Roman Sions' exclusive club, Masquerade Noir. Instead of eliminating her, Roman sees an opportunity and spares her life, forming an unconventional alliance. They pose as a couple, using each other as alibis to deceive the police. But as they delve deeper into their charade, their connection intensifies, blurring the lines between reality and deception. As desire and danger collide, they discover unexpected love in the midst of a thrilling and forbidden affair.

Rating: Explicit; graphic depictions of sex and violence

Pairing: Roman Sionis/OFC; Belladonna Black, slight Zsasz/OFC if enough interest.

Notes: Yes, I do know Roman Sionis is a bad guy. No, I do not care. Yes, I am absolutely simping over Evan McGreggors portrayal. Setting is not quite the Birds of Prey universe but Roman is definitely a criminal but not quite a sadistic crime lord like he is in the comics. Doni favor one shots? Yes I do, but this would be perhaps the longest one shot in history so it will be a chaptered story. Let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters.

Final Note: This story is not meant for minors, you alone are responsible for what you consume on the internet. Minors DNI. I do not consent to having my work translated or posted elsewhere but please feel free to reblog.

Shackles by Steven Rodriguez

The night was supposed to start with a slinky dress that hadn’t seen a night out in months, some overpriced drinks that could be made for cheaper at home and end what she had hoped to be a memorable, hot and very irresponsible one night stand with the first gorgeous stranger she clicked with. She wasn’t looking for Mr. Right, just Mr. Tonight. The worst she expected was a bad DJ, a disappointing romp in the sack and a hangover. Instead it ended with gunshots, the smell of sulfur, threats of torture and several dead bodies at her feet.

It wasn’t like she’d snuck beyond the door for ‘employees only’ because she was looking for some fun. Hardly, she was just trying to disappear from a creep who thought he was hotter than he was. He’d followed her from one end of the bar to the other insisting on buying her drinks. She turned him down each time and she wasn’t subtle or polite about it. No vague “I’m waiting on friends” or “I’m not really thirsty” she told him to his face multiple times that she’d rather die of thirst than to take any drink he offered, but it didn’t deter him at all. He was the type of guy who was a few years older than he let on, wore cologne to hide the fact that he was too lazy to shower before going out and probably couldn’t find the clitoris with both hands and a map. There wasn’t a suit nice enough to cover the cringe nor was there enough liquor in the universe.

Wherever she went, he had followed. If she were on the dance floor somehow he found her, hiding in the bathroom? He was right outside. She had been dying for a smoke but there was no way in hell she was going outside where he could corner her. And he’d made it only too clear on what he’d been interested in when she decided to ditch him for good. Sure, she shouldn’t have been there but she just wanted to lose the guy. The back of the house seemed as good an option as any.

The door didn’t have a lock, it was a simple handle and it only took her a split second to slip past it. A quick but maybe not the best decision but she didn’t have a ton of options. Rejecting a man was dangerous at the best of times and she was alone in a club in a wealthy part of town where a cosmo cost nearly twenty dollars. But a man where it hurts; his dick or his wallet and no telling what these types would do.

The door had no windows so she couldn’t tell if he was right behind her but she instead decided on rounding a corner just in case he stuck his head in. Maybe it would have been better if she’d just kneed him in the crotch and run like hell. The closest corner to duck behind was at the end of a fairly long hall leading to a storage area. Her high heels clutched firmly in her hand as she ran barefoot down the corridor to avoid making any noise. It worked a little too well, unfortunately and not in any way that benefited her in the long run.

Several seconds of silence passed as she glanced back down the hall sticking out as little as possible with only the sound of her slightly hurried breathing. No sign of the guy, several seconds turned into a few minutes of dead silence but something about it was wrong, the hair on the back of her neck stood up and as soon as she turned around, the reason became clear. That horrible cold sensation ran down her back and settled in the pit of her stomach.

Shit.

Whatever she walked in on, she wasn't meant to see, and the three men there were just as surprised to see her. Two guys looked like laborers and their expressions went from shock to anger very quickly. One pulled out a box cutter, the other reached for a length of pipe. The last one to turn and face her set off every internal alarm she had, everything about him was bad.

From his ill fitted suit to his greasy slicked back hair to the hand gun in his waistband.

Bad. Bad. Bad.

He shook his head as he stepped towards her, he couldn’t pull off a sympathetic look if his life depended on it. Shame, because hers did.

“Bad timing lady…”

“You’re telling me.” Her voice was hardly a whisper and the words hadn’t left her lips when she dropped her shoes and turned to bolt back the way she came. Shouts followed her, and the sound of heavy boots and shoes on the ground echoed loudly.

She had no idea where she was and in her panic, the simple hall back to the club's main floor had been erased from her memory. She took several turns hoping to run into anyone but also dreading running into anyone, she had no idea if those men were the only ones who would be after her.

The sound of shoes faded and she chanced a look back but saw no one, her furious heartbeat hammered in her chest. She was alone.

Maybe they’d gotten scared and run off, afraid of being discovered while pursuing her.

Time to go home.

It would have been a great idea if she hadn’t turned another corner and walked into a solid mass of man. Rough hands grabbed at her arms and pulled her back down the hall. She shrieked and flailed, kicking her legs out, not knowing or seeing all that well what she was aiming for. Panic flooded her chest as her fight or flight kicked into overdrive.

A hand quickly clamped over her mouth as she was dragged back down the corridor kicking and trying to break the iron grip on her arms. Not that she thought anyone could honestly hear her, the music was muffled from the main dance floor which gave her little chance of being heard.

The guy in the suit was waiting for her, and he looked pissed. He leaned against a table with plastic bags of powder spread on it and a briefcase of cash in plain view. She was no narcotics cop but she knew drugs when she saw them.

She flew like a rag doll against a wall with such force that knocked the wind right out of her. Her lungs clawed for air trying to catch up with what had just happened. As quickly as she scrambled back into a sitting position and managed to get a breath in, he was standing there.

One thumb tucked into his pocket looking down at her like a disappointed parent. He was the type of guy who liked looking down on people but was probably too low on the totem pole to get to do it too often. He wore gold jewelry and not in a tasteful way, gold rings, gold watch, gold chain necklace. From a distance he could have just been a guy in a bad suit, up close he looked like an extra from the movie the Goodfellas or a Mr. T reject.

His smile was very off putting because it wasn’t a real smile. “Should have stuck to the dance floor.” There was only one door that she could reach and it was an emergency exit. The way she had come in was blocked by the two men. He watched her eyes flicker to the emergency exit and shook his head and actually gave an audible tsk, tsk, tsk. When the exit wasn’t an option she frantically searched the room for something, anything. “You know, if a sign says employees only, maybe you should stay on the other side of the door it’s on.”

He probably thought he had the upper hand, thought she was too scared to do anything or try anything, she was scared shitless but not enough to do nothing. The two men behind him chuckled and he turned to nod to them. She had seen the gun on his waistband, and before she realized exactly what she was doing, her arm shot out and miraculously found purchase with the cold steel of the grip. She jerked her hand back, the gun went off and an odd sense of disassociation came over her.

The room smelled like sulfur and the barrel was smoking and in an instant she had somehow managed to fire off three shots. The suit monkey in front of her was on his back clutching his side, blood flowing from where she had just shot him, looking up at her in disbelief.

His accomplices couldn’t be of much help, one bullet struck one man in the leg just below the knee, the other in the hip.

Oh shit. Oh fuck.

Fight had turned to flight and as quickly as she could, she made a dash for the way she’d come in and again, ran into another hard body.

This guy was different. He wasn’t like the other men, a grip of steel shot out and grabbed the gun that had still been clutched in her hand, aiming towards the ceiling away from any potential targets. Another shot went off before it was wrenched from her hand, she yelped. Another arm wrapped itself over her chest, keeping her from getting away.

“What in the fuck is this?” The voice was angry and dangerous and when he called out to someone else she realized he wasn’t alone. “Take this.” His other arm now free of the gun kept her caged against his body and she had even less room to maneuver. “For fucks sake, stop struggling already!” He tossed her to the ground into a corner, her head smacking against the cinderblock wall.

“Looks like quite the party back here.” Another voice, and something mechanical sounding, the gun. “Well, she won’t be winning any marksman competitions anytime soon but three out of four isn’t bad.” It must have been the little birdies and stars dancing around her head but there was an air of lightheartedness to his voice and she couldn’t tell if it was comforting or concerning. Things either weren’t as bad as they seemed or they were far worse.

“Jesus Christ, look at this mess…” The first man sounded less angry now and more likely he was inconvenienced, like he was running late to a meeting. “What’s going on here, Jimmy?”

Jimmy, the guy she shot? Yeah, he looked like a Jimmy, he was bleeding out but despite that, he didn’t look even remotely concerned until the guy in the suit spoke to him and only then he looked up at him with a look of fear in his eyes. Like his greatest nightmare had stepped out of his subconscious. He tried to choke out words but nothing short of a garbled response was audible.

“Uh, boss?”

“What is it, Zsasz?” Zsasz? What the hell kind of name was that? Sounded like a cult leader.

“We’ve got a bit of a situation here.”

“What could possibly be worse than-“ he stopped dead and his body stilled in a concerning way. The man he’d called Zsasz, who she could finally see properly now was standing next to the table holding up a white bag. “Fuck!”

“Looks like Cobblepots branding. Picking up some side work, Jimmy?” Zsasz looked at Jimmy with pure disgust and tossed a bag to his boss, he caught it easily and examined the packet. His brow furrowed in anger and the corner of his lips turned into a snarl.

“Cobblepot?” He growled, his voice now sounding positively feral. She had no idea who these men were or what exactly was going on but she knew the name Cobblepot. Everyone knew that name. Oswald Cobblepot, drug dealer, arms supplier, owner of the Iceberg Lounge, overall a well known name in Gotham, not a man to cross. Suddenly her presence wasn’t the biggest issue in the room but the situation had gotten even more dangerous.

He stalked over to her and held the bag's contents in his gloved hand and looked down at her. Several tense moments passed, his face gave little away in terms of what he was thinking. Maybe he was trying to decide if it was more trouble to kill her, pay her to be quiet or count on fear to keep her silent. Maybe he was trying to decide where to dump her body.

“Know what this is?”

Yeah, it was probably drugs but she couldn't be more specific and she didn't want to give the impression that she knew more than she did, so she shook her head.

“No.” Something about how he spoke and looked at her gave her the impression that he preferred words to gestures. She shouldn’t have been concerned with it but now that she could see him better it was hard to ignore. He was gorgeous. Eccentric but gorgeous. Black pinstripe suit with silver accents that were giving her hard core Liberace vibes. Dark hair styled perfectly, not slicked back like the suit monkey and he was wearing rose tinted glasses. The look worked for him but the irritated look on his face was kind of spoiling the whole thing for her.

He looked to Zsasz and then back to her. She was probably much prettier when she wasn’t terrified. She reminded him of a cornered mouse. “What’s your name?” His tone was flat and uninterested.

“Belladonna Black.” She tried to keep her voice from shaking but it was difficult.

“Why are you in the back of my club?” A terrible weight dropped in her stomach and the cold feeling raced up her back.The kind you get when your body is trying to tell you that you’re in deep shit. His club? This was Roman Sionis. He was usually in the tabloids, known for having a volatile temper and little patience and extravagant tastes, now the suit and glasses made sense.

It took a minute for her lips to form words, suddenly dealing with a creepy guy wasn’t so bad compared to this. “I was trying to lose a guy in the club, I just ducked back here long enough to ditch him.”

He didn’t seem very impressed with her reasoning but he also didn’t seem like he didn’t believe her. “And it looks like you walked in on something that you weren’t supposed to see. Well, that’s unfortunate… Maybe you should have found a bouncer instead.”

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

“Boss?” Zsasz held out a smartphone to Roman, he looked at the phone and watched carefully, the audio was loud enough for her to recognize her own voice and the sounds of running and struggle.

Zsasz watched her with an expression that said he definitely had a plan to kill her and dispose of the body or knew the right drug to give her to make her forget this while night had happened, he was just waiting on word and that he didn’t particularly care which one happened. Zsasz was one of the most intimidating men she’d ever seen, if his stone cold sociopathic expression didn’t do it, the dozens of scars across his arms and chest as well as neck did. He had scars like most men had tattoos. His gaze was icy, suggesting that the workings of his mind were very pragmatic and matter of fact. Meanwhile Roman seemed to be having a debate in his head. He handed the phone back to Zsasz and shoved his hands in his pockets and with a tilt of his head he studied her.

“Well, look at that Angel? Looks like you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nothing could be more innocent.” His emphasis on the word innocent suggested he believed in the concept about as much as unicorns.

“Kill the feed.” Zsasz nodded and tapped away at the phone. “Don’t move.” He warned in a low growl then turned and walked back to Jimmy and his two men. He didn’t walk, no he stalked towards them placing a leather Italian shoe on Jimmy’s bleeding side. Jimmy half groaned, half yelped loudly, she suddenly felt kind of bad for him. “Dealing for Cobblepot in my own club…” He ran a hand through his hair before holding his hand out to Zsasz, and Zsasz gave him the gun back. “I warned you, Jimmy.” She watched as he racked a round into the chamber and fired three shots in rapid succession. Jimmy stopped moving. “I’m afraid it’s not going to work out, Jimmy.” He then fired two shots into each of the men at the door and once more he handed the gun back to Zsasz. “Make the call.”

“What about her?” She was pale, eyes transfixed on the scene before her, somehow unable to move, too in shock to speak.

“Oh,” Now he sounded like someone had told him he couldn’t leave the table until his dinner was done. Like an annoyed teenager. She didn’t scream which was probably the only reason she too didn’t have a bullet in her head, or because he used them all on Jimmy and his friends. He looked around and shrugged before stepping forward taking off his rose tinted glasses. He looked her up and down now. His gaze leisurely and predatory at the same time, it gave her chills.

It seemed like he was making a mental list of pros and cons, he paced back and forth for a minute. Zsasz kept looking at her like a guard dog waiting to be let off his leash. She didn’t need to be told that the only thing holding him back from turning her into confetti was the word from Roman. “Fuck!” He groaned, “These decisions are always easier when they’re ugly…” He complained to Zsasz. Was that a compliment?

His hand again, found its way combing through his hair making a mess of the styled locks before straightening his suit collar then he finally turned to look at her.

“Clean up crew is on the way, three or four?”

“Three’s plenty. Four's a crowd.” She let out a breath in relief. It seemed like he didn’t plan on killing her. Not yet anyway. “It’s your lucky night, Angel.”

His entire demeanor changed as flashed a smile that under normal circumstances would make her swoon. It was shocking, this sudden 180 he pulled. Jesus, if not for the dead bodies and the fact that she’d just seen him shoot three people she just might be falling under his spell.

Zsasz leaned in as Roman muttered something to him. Then Zsasz nodded and walked away quickly, leaving the two of them alone. Roman offered a leather clad hand to help her up, she hesitated at first but eventually took his hand and got to her feet.

“Zsasz is going to take you home and you’re going to behave for him. You’re going to keep that pretty mouth shut about what you saw here tonight, you’re not going to say a word to anyone. Not even your cat, understand, Angel?”

“You’re letting me go?”

“For now.” He paused, “Don't misread the situation here, you’ve been a naughty girl, sneaking around here. And I should put a bullet in your head and dump you into Gotham Bay,” he uttered the last sentence with considerable venom. She shrunk back slightly but couldn’t go far as Roman was still holding onto her hand. “But I’m feeling generous tonight, as without you here I might not have found out about this disloyal employee.” He leaned in closer now, barely a breath away. “ If you speak a word of this to anyone I’ll have Zsasz string you up and slice that pretty face of yours off like a discount Halloween mask. Understand?” She nodded shakily, “Say the words, Angel.”

“I understand.”

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

“Yes.” She wished her voice hadn’t come off so weak sounding but it felt like she was walking on a glass bridge that could shatter at any minute with the wrong step.

“Good girl.”

People should have warning signs around their necks, warning the public of their idiotic behavior. Belladonna’s would read ‘Do not allow to ingest tequila.’ Vodka left her feeling light and floaty, gin reminded her of seltzer water; annoyingly bland. And rum of course brought out her inner stripper, like it did for most women, everyone has a drink that does that to them. Tequila was the one that left her feeling like she’d gone five rounds in a boxing ring. Laying in her bed, with sunlight streaming through her window, she groaned and pulled the pillow over her head and immediately regretted it. The back of her head was throbbing, odd, Tequila usually left her with an all over headache, not one specific spot. Her hand threaded through her hair to ease the ache and froze when it found a considerable lump on the back of her head, she shot up in bed, sunlight be damned and felt that cold feeling again. She didn’t drink last night.

Then last night drifted into her memory, the smell of sulfur and blood, the sound of gunshots, and the feeling of being trapped. Black leather gloves. Roman Sionis. She felt like throwing up.

Then she did. Barely made it to the trashcan in time.

Her apartment was blissfully empty and nothing seemed out of place. The cold water she guzzled did little to get rid of the taste of bile in her mouth, so the first order was brushing her teeth and then maybe some more panic.

She hadn’t had anything to drink last night but she still felt hungover, could a traumatic experience do that? A quick google search suggested it wasn’t impossible and that if she felt sick then to treat it as such, but a quick inventory of her medicine cabinet found that she was seriously lacking in aspirin. If she wasn’t drunk last night, she had every intention of drinking herself stupid tonight.

But she didn’t want to leave her apartment, not after what happened. She found herself pacing her living room for the better part of the morning, uncertain of what to do. She remembered Roman's warning.

“If you speak a word of this to anyone I’ll have Zsasz string you up and slice that pretty face of yours off like a discount Halloween mask.”

On the bright side, she didn’t have a cat. She wondered why she didn’t just do what most women her age did; stay in, drink wine and watch violent slashers. Her stomach churned, maybe not a slasher, but she didn’t like romcoms, right, so documentaries it was. The urge to throw up wasn’t far behind, but there was nothing to throw up.

A quick check of her phone saw the time creeping up close to eleven, she remembered Zsasz dropping her off at her apartment around three but she wasn’t sure how long the whole thing behind the club had taken. Had she only been asleep eight hours? Could that be right? Her phone had no text messages or missed calls and the date told her it was only Saturday, so it wasn't like she’d slept all day. Christ.

Her head was pounding. There was a bodega a block away from her place, she could run in, grab some aspirin, bagels and something to drink and be good until Monday when she had work. The guy who ran the bodega was a nice old guy who she was fairly certain only spoke Korean, either way, all her past interactions suggested that he wasn’t likely to start chatting with her over hangover remedies. She nodded slowly to herself. Yeah, that was it, she’d grab some things and be done with it and get home. No harm, no foul.

Yeah, she could do this.

She grabbed her purse and slipped on some ripped jeans, a Gotham City Rogues t-shirt and some old sneakers. Throwing her hair into a messy bun and grabbing her cropped leather jacket, she didn't mean to look like she was going to start a girl rock revolution but figured she’d blend in and be just another face in the Saturday crowd. She locked her door behind her and tried to stay focused on getting to the bodega and back again without incident.

It was all fine and well until she hit the street, then the sounds of the city hit her like finding out she left the volume turned up on her headphones. She jumped as a taxi rushed past her like some kind of tourist, cringe. Then she remembered her headphones were actually in her jacket pocket, she wasn’t planning on listening to any music, but just to use them to drown out the ambient noise that she usually loved.

It was a quick brisk walk over to the shop oddly called Ernies, even though the guy who owned it was Korean, or Vietnamese, she wasn’t sure. But today was not the day to find out. Belladonna had been, at one point comfortable enough in this city to walk barefoot in it but now, every movement startled her, every car backfiring sounded like a gunshot and every person casually looking her way put her on edge. Several times she could have sworn she saw Roman Sionis or Zsasz watching her but they always turned out to be just some wall street guy in a suit or some random buff guy in a wifebeater. They smiled and winked at her which she never returned on a good day, but it was oddly comforting this time, as she didn’t think Zsasz and Roman to be the smiling and winking type.

The familiar bell over the door was comforting and as soon as she stepped into the bodega it felt like she stepped into a hug. There was a hot bar that always had hot dogs and asian finger foods that she never tried before and the smell of the foods made her briefly forget why she had come in, in the first place. It was only when she reached up to scratch her head that she remembered the aspirin.

Fifteen minutes later she had a basket with a few drinks, aspirin, fresh bagels, and a bag of m&ms. She decided to pass on the bottle of wine.

She jumped when someone spoke over her shoulder, and she tried not to panic when she saw two police officers.

“Man, I love these things!”

“What the hell are they?”

“They’re called bao, like a steamed bun with beef and onions inside. I could eat a hundred of them!”

They weren’t talking to her, just talking around her, but the information and her current situation gave her the push to try something new. She asked for two of them while the cops behind her continued on with their conversation about what awas superior foreign food or good old fashioned american hot dogs.

The guy who ran the shop gave her his usual wordless smile and she left with her two reusable bags. No conversation, no questions, no comments, and she was a ten minute walk from the safety of her apartment.

The sounds of the traffic had died down enough or she had calmed herself to the degree that they didn’t startle her anymore. She was herself again within the span of that short walk. She’d even reached into one of her bags for the fresh hot bao she’d just purchased, its smell calling to her empty stomach. It didn’t last two minutes, she hadn’t eaten since dinner last night before she went out and she was suddenly wishing she’d bout a dozen of them.

It was savory and hot and hit a spot she didn’t know she’d had, and by the time she got to her building she was even smiling.

Her door was still locked as she had left it but her sense of relief vaporized in an instant when on her coffee table she saw something that made her stomach turn. Something that hadn’t been there.

A pair of black high heels. The ones she’d been wearing last night and the headless stem of a rose.

Everyday her assistant had asked her if she ‘had a case of the Mondays’ all week, usually a harsh look was enough for Daisy, her assistant to move onto other things. But sure enough the young woman had asked her in some fashion or other everyday if she was having a bad day and it was an unfair question. She hadn’t been having a bad day, she had been having a bad week.

Spring fashion week was coming up and this was the calm before the storm. In a matter of two weeks her studio would be a madhouse of activity with agents, models, designers, and other photographers all jockeying for the best work. Personally, she hated fashion week.

She didn’t pick up a camera with the intent of taking pretty photos of rail thin models wearing expensive dresses that didn’t conform to her sense of fashion in the slightest. She’d picked up a camera because she preferred shooting objects instead of people.

And her preferred type of photography was going out of style, not too many people shot actual wet film, everything was digital. Her favorite pastime was going the way of the dinosaurs, which made her a bit old school. Or so everyone who’d ever set foot in her apartment ever told her, not too many people had their own personal darkroom.

Maybe a few hours in her darkroom this weekend would settle her down, calm her mind. It sounded like a nice and easy weekend in, and she needed nice and easy after the week she’d had.

The studio was a mess, the vanity had product all over it, the mirror covered with smudges, clothes and props strewn about. The last of the crew had left and it was just Belladonna and Daisy.

It was nice to finally have some quiet after the storm that had swept through. She busied herself with turning off lights and moving furniture back to where she preferred it while Daisy tidied up the vanities and bathroom. Some models were thoughtful and didn’t leave the place a mess, others, well, not so much.

It became apparent that Daisy had been talking to her when a hand waved over her face and she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped and looked at a startled Daisy, usually their evenings were filled with idle chatter but tonight she knew she wasn’t an active participant.

“Sorry, what?”

Daisy blinked, “What's got you wound up so tight?”

“Just a long day.”

“More like a long week.” Daisy muttered, “What’s going on with you? You’ve been out of it all week, it’s weird really. I’ve never seen you so… robotic.” Belladonna shook her head and shrugged. “Does this have anything to do with what happened last Friday?”

Her blood ran cold. She hadn’t said anything to Daisy about what happened, hell she didn’t even tell her she’d been out. “What do you mean?”

“The voicemail you got from Jackson?”

Jackson! Relief flooded her, and she made a mental note to cut Daisy some slack the next time she asked her if she was having a case of the Mondays. She slumped down onto the couch and groaned internally, truth be told she’s forgotten about her ex’s phone call. The thing that had prompted her to go out in the first place.

“I’m busting my ass working fifty hours a week on a good week, getting further and further away from any thought of him and then I hear he’s engaged and I’m jealous.” She released a deep held breath, “Why am I jealous?”

Her and Jacks had been steady for two years and then an on again and off again thing for over a year and their chemistry was amazing but in their last year together something always came up. In the end he would never choose her and they’d break up for a bit and then get back together. The final straw was another canceled date. She just wanted a straight answer from him about what was going to happen between them. Daisy gave her a comforting look.

“How about we go out and have some fun at a club? Grab some drinks and maybe flirt with some cute guys?”

The thought made her feel sick. She shook her head as nonchalantly as she could manage. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You sure? It’s Friday night in Gotham, anything can happen.”

Don’t I know it?

“No, I think I’m going to go home and binge watch Lucifer.” Daisy didn’t seem convinced, “Seriously, I am perfectly happy spending time alone.”

“Do you want me to stay and help you finish?”

“No, go enjoy your weekend while you can. We’ve got about two weeks until hell week. Go have fun.”

“Well, if you’re sure. I’ll have a lemon drop in your honor.” She chuckled and nodded, the gesture was sweet. Daisy was a nice girl but she was a younger girl than Belladonna, almost ten years younger. Still in that clubbing, lemon drop drinking phase. She remembered those days. “See you Monday.”

Daisy gave her one final wave and went about finishing up in the studio. With Daisy gone she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She had forgotten about Jackson.

She wasn’t even sure if she missed him so much as she missed having someone in her life that she was comfortable with.

She grabbed her jacket and purse before locking up the studio and setting the panel alarm.

It was a bit late for the subway and she didn’t see any taxis so maybe walking a few blocks would help clear her head. She hadn’t gone far before she realized someone was following her.

When a hand reached out behind her she shrieked and spun in her heels.

“Belladonna Black?” Her eyes were wide in fear and as they met the disinterested faces of two men in off the rack suits and two badges made a quick appearance. “Detectives Ramirez and Craven with the GCPD, we’ve got a few questions for you.”

Chapter Two

#roman sionis smut #romansionisfanfiction #smut #fake relationship #fanfiction is life #original character #close proximity #slightly toxic #I’m the bad guy #slight power imbalance #medium burn romance #Roman Sionis original female character #18+ content #18+ only #shadows of deception #Roman Sionis toxic love fangirl club

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someones-thing-is-here · 1 year

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It has been a while since I posted my issues with Green Lantern Beware my Power I said I might rewrite it and I did and then I lost it in my drafts. Just found it. So to every one that said stuff on my pervious post thanks -

Story Changes – The opening is identical however John is already a Green Lantern instead of the police nearly arresting him but choosing to back off it has one of them talk under their breath ‘why couldn’t it be one of the others.’ as this would be a way to set up the fact that there are other Green Lanterns and the difficulties John faces without directly saying it.

John then arrives home and actually makes it inside where we have a shot of John’s military tags (only reference to that version of John’s history) and John is going over schematics in for a building an up close on each correction on the building (important for later) before the ring alerts him of something crashing to the ground. John steps outside finding that the thing that crashes into the ground is Guy who is completely out of it but not dead, muttering about a mouth with too many teeth (early set up for Parallax).

John takes Guy to the watchtower because he can’t medically help him and because the justice league shouldn’t attack on sight they don’t and Guy is stabilized. The justice league members question John other what happened he explains that they lost contact with Oa about a month ago and while that isn’t necessarily a problem as often, they lose contact due to the distant (with Earth in this universe being near the edge of Guardian space) but as neither Green Lantern in the sector was given any type of warning be it from Oa directly or from whoever of the earth green lanterns is there (Hal in this case).

Guy deiced that he would check out what happened, that was 5 days ago, John has decided that he now has to check out what happened as not only has he lost contact with Oa he has a now barely breathing lantern on his hands. Green Arrow being in the room offers to go with him (I couldn’t find a great way to write him in but still he is needed for a later scene I have planned) the two of them set off to Oa and finding it in ruin plays out the same but John knows most of these people in question and skips the exposition about Hal it’s not needed.

The encounter with Shayera plays out similarly however she stops when she notices that John is a Green Lantern and she still blames Rann for the destruction of Oa with the video still existing and she still explains what happens with the Rann-Thanagar war and what happens with Hal.

Adam Strange is introduced the exact same way as does the best scene of the film the flying through the battleships and the knowledge that there is a third party involved, they follow the trail to the base of the yellow lanterns and the fight is very similar, though John spends most of it dodging before on reflex creating a shield as he can’t avoid and it works causing him to pause allow for Lyssa Drak to sneak up and knock him out and the other fall.

Hal introduction is identical he just looks slightly to good to be a prisoner he brings up what happened how Sinestro sabotaged things and how he sent his ring away surprised it didn’t end up with John (Set up for Kyle at a later date) and assumed that he was kept alive as some sort of pet. They get out due to John and leave determined to stop the war now that they have information to stop it.

The fight at the dooms day weapons happens the same with Lyssa taking Sinestro’s place in it and as a result dying that way. (Explained in Character Changes) Hal still kills Sardath and Parallax is fully revealed. This is when it suddenly shifts that the entity has been at the forefront the whole time and it reveals what happened that after possessing Jordan, it used him to kill the corps (The flashback actually shows it doing most of the work) and reveals its armor monologuing that Sinestro thought that the tiny creature was in fact the entities true body and that the entity was quite tired of being ordered around and so got rid of him after it absorbed the rest of itself from the central battery destroying it and severing all communication between Green Lanterns allowing it to hunt down and kill any lanterns that came to investigate before finding interesting beings to do the work for it.

This monologue makes it so that most of the people in the room stop being in shock and preparing to fight as a result the final fight is far more of a group effort with Shayera and John directly attacking Parallax with Adam Strange and Green Arrow attempting to stop the beam or provide support during the fight Parallax gets John in a position to kill him before pausing in vague pain as it backs off being unable to go through with the act (explains why Guy is still alive) making it possible for Shayera to knock it off of him with the entity being able to hurt her it does attempt with Green Arrow shooting it and for a moment Hal comes to the forefront with the entity quickly taking back control smirking about how it was right (in the sense that they don’t really care about him only it does, kind of situation) before teleporting away having gotten what it wanted.

Leave John and Shayera bleeding but alive going to join Adam who is very much failing to shut down the weapon as the codes aren’t working and plans to sacrifice himself before John manages to find a flaw in the weapons construction from the schematics and they mange to shut it down. With the imitate crisis stopped Adam and Shayera plan to use the evidence from these events to stop the war now that they have recorded evidence of a third parties’ involvement and Oliver and John preparing to return home, they part ways.

When John and Oliver return to earth they land at the watchtower with Oliver going off on his own and John checking on Guy who has just woken up with the two of them discussing what had happened and the fact they Hal’s ring hasn’t been recovered (Set up for a sequel that would feature Kyle Rayner) and what to do when Parallax shows up to deal with them.

The scene ends in a melancholic way with the two of them looking somewhat optimistically that they will have each other but the difficulty that will be the future.

The obligatory after credits scene: It shows Lyssa Drak’s body and the other deceased yellow lanterns being reanimated by Parallax who explains that the whole Rann-Thanagar war was her idea in a way to impress the entity which she did and is given the book Parallax and a second in command role in this universe’s yellow lantern.

Character Changes - Adam, Shayera and Green Arrow stay somewhat the same with the only changes being how they react to John and act around him.

John – As I couldn’t find a way for him to be interesting with the plot still being an origin story so I just made it that he was already a green lantern, as the military background is only referenced John is far less stoic and is far more active in the plot. Design wise: he is always in the green lantern uniform I don’t think I would change the voice actor as with what he has to work with I think he did well.

Parallax/Hal – This was the character I was the most annoyed with and with this rewrite I deiced to lean all in of the body horror aspect of post-recon Parallax as we don’t know enough of this version of Hal to do pre-recon Parallax right. Parallax is far crueler when revealed as well as far more disturbing in movements and lines. Design wise: Parallax’s armor is the same as the comics but yellow and without the mask, Parallax looks like the comics with the broken mouth, claws and eyes that look identically to the entity. There would be two separate voice actors for Parallax one for Hal and one for the entity, before the reveal the voice actor for the entity can be heard whispering underneath Hal’s voice and when the reveal happens both voice actors speak the same volume and when the entity gets smug the voice actor is louder. Also for some more humorous lines I would have the entity be aware of the previous DC animated movie universe and very annoyed that Hal died before it could get to him.

Lyssa Drak – She takes on Sinestro’s role in this film as she is a pretty interesting obscure character for people who aren’t well versed in Green Lantern characters so it would be pretty cool if she was the secondary antagonist instead. Also, I feel like she both would do what Parallax wants and could be caught off guard and die that way with her not being well versed with what a power ring can do. Design Wise: I would keep her look similar but maybe a more armored look. I would probably cast Grey DeLisle for her as I believe she would be pretty cool to voice her.

Thanks for reading this.

#green lantern #green lantern beware my power #John Stewart #parallax #i don't know how to tag this #also i don't know how to make the read more feature work #thanks anyway #also i have a bunch of plans for sequels which I would love to share

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hopeswriting · 2 years

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what if the seal the 9th out on can’t be broken but rather limits how much flak is is available and out at such a point it barley supplied tsuna the flame he needed, which could be another angle for why Reborn’s training is so intense for tsuna (besides standard trollborn) as tsuna needs to increase how much flame is out of the seal rather than in

hi nonny, thank you for the ask!

hmm, idk? i know this is something that's often done with the seal in fanon (or was anyway), giving it more consequences than what nono said it was there to do, and bad ones at that, but if i can be honest with you nonny it personally never really did it much for me. like i said in my tags, i think what nono did was make tsuna flames dormant again (because they were clearly active enough already to react to his emotions) and not so easily triggered by his emotions anymore, instead of any kind of actual sealing or limitation. but if it’s not as clear-cut as a seal that’d need to be broken to go away, it rises the question even more, doesn’t it? can it be broken indeed then? ever? and i actually really like the idea of tsuna never really being able to get back his flames to the way they were pre-seal, and needing to adjust to it!

and on that note, in the context where we consider the sealing as canon, that’s how i’ve always explained to myself why tsuna needs the dying will bullets/pills to activate his flames. why he needs them to be triggered by an external factor instead of them just answering to his (dying) will, the way it seemingly works for everyone else. (especially when, clearly, pre-seal, tsuna’s flames had no problem answering to his will.)

(and if we take into account basil also needing to use the pills, it supports the idea that dwb and pills are used to force flames to go active instead of waiting for it to happen naturally, whether or not basil was a civilian too before iemitsu found him. that and how they seem to be used to force flames into a state that’s not naturally attained too, or attained with difficulty, i.e. the hyper dying will mode.)

but that’s as far as i personally like to push it (tsuna needing to work harder to do with his flames what seems to come so easily to everyone else, and to come up with his own ways to make his flames do what he wants because none of the ways that seemingly work for everyone else works for him too). like, if you watch the scene in the anime, nono obviously knew and was confident in what he was doing, and confident in the fact it’d mean nothing bad for tsuna. tho that said, i do think the seal is inevitably bound to have some side effects to some extent, can’t think otherwise when the only other example of a seal we were shown was the zero point breakthrough. (but then again, fresh out of the ice and xanxus had no problem using his flames, had he? and imo it’s much more interesting to make the side-effects be psychological/mental/emotional, rather than about the flames in and off themselves, even if of course, it’s only natural it’d affect them too. and also, of course, xanxus not looking like he had problems using his flames doesn’t necessarily mean he really hadn’t any.)

okay but i really can’t stop thinking about the seal being unbreakable, i’m really vibing with this concept nonny!! it’s like, yeah nono only meant well and didn’t think it’d have any bad consequences, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions and all that jazz, right? so what if he couldn’t undo it? not nono, not reborn, not iemitsu, not anyone? what if they could only ever just make it a little less bad, a little less crushing and suffocating and shackled around tsuna’s flames? what if they could only help crack the seal to let some of his flames slip through, but never break it fully?

tsuna’s resentment, bitterness, anger, grief, pain, what do they do with all of it then? what do tsuna does with all of it? especially knowing what type of life he went on to have post-seal, because i’m sure tsuna could have used the help of his flames during his years of harsh bullying. to the point it destroyed any kind of self-esteem in him entirely. and nono meant to give him a peaceful and normal civilian life by sealing his flames, but it only ended up meaning pain for tsuna he could have avoided if nono left his flames alone. and then the cherry on top of this tragedy is that years later? not only they need tsuna to leave his civilian life behind, but have to force his hand to every step of the way because tsuna wants none of this.

what then?

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #khr nono #sawada tsunayoshi #khr headcanons #khr meta #khr au #< idk which one it is zerdfghg 😭#dying will flames #khr fanon #Anonymous

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taikanyohou · 2 years

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Hi there, I’d love to know a bit more about your response to a previous ask about VegasPete and the Layla/Majnun parallels? Because I don’t know much except the bare bones of the latter story. Thanks and your VP meta always makes my day! I wanna camp in your tags forever

hiiiii anon!!!!!!!! AAAHHH thank you!!!!!

aaaah its not so much a direct parallel as it is the Vibes, ig? so if you wanna know more, you can read layla and majnun's story here!

so majnun isn't really called majnun, his real name is qais, but everyone called him majnun (which means an Obsessor, and not just the casual type, but the type of obsessor that falls into madness and doesnt decipher sense from nonsense and right from wrong. in this case, qais is obsessed with layla and possessed by his love for her, which determines and dictates everything he does .... "you're a psycho"), because his love for layla wasnt JUST love. no he became obsessed with her. if he couldnt have her, no one could, type of obsessed.

and then there's the whole part about the way they so madly fell in love. it was a secret at first, just between the two of them (layla and majnun), just like vegas and pete. but its the descent into love's madness whilst it was all so fresh and brewing that is so similar between layla and majnun and vegas and pete. like. the way the love and desire consumed them, that is so similar.

and then there's the whole vibe (ig parallel???), where layla gets married to a Suitable Guy bc her father didnt want her marrying majnun bc of how people spoke about him and called him a crazed lunatic over layla, and so she moves away with her husband, and how majnun roams and roams and roams in search of her no matter how long it takes or how dangerous it could get bc he Needs her. compare that to pete returning to the main family bc that's The Good and Proper and Right thing to do and vegas coming out of hiding despite being blacklisted in search of pete. but also, how layla YEARNS for majnun, and how pete does so for vegas, despite the fact that both layla and pete have to wear masks and pretend in front of everyone that everything is fine, that they're fine.

also the fact that both majnun and vegas spent time in solitude, just them and the nature that surrounded them, away from their families and cut off from the world. and whilst majnun wrote and recited poetry, vegas would read. and that in the end, they were both orphans bc both their parents died, and that messed them up Even More. vegas wanted to kill himself because he had nothing left, whilst majnun vowed he would never return to the city ever again and would spend the rest of his days living in the desert until he died.

and ig the final part is where it switches and pete becomes majnun and vegas embodies layla, when majnun finds out layla is dead and majnun finds her grave and weeps and weeps over it until he eventually dies because of the grief. where as pete does so with vegas (minus the dying, only he killed someone else instead).

so yeah it isnt so much as ... parallels. its just the ... similarities and energy.

#faiza answers #girl the layla/majnun vibes in vegaspete .... yeah my desi ass is shaking.

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carnelianwings · 1 year

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Harvestella Review

For a game I meant to just spend the afternoon on, I ended up playing all afternoon, followed it up with a 4 hour impromptu stream, and now it’s 1 am. So to me, it’s been a fantastic game so far. Definitely not a game you want to rush, as I discovered after dying no less than 4 times in the first 2 chapters alone, but if you take it at a casual pace and don’t actually push your character harder than the game wants you to, you’ll be fine. (I’ll come back to this point later.) Also I should note that I jumped into this game blind knowing that it’s a full game and a farm sim/rpg hybrid and zero knowledge of the staff credits (especially the composer rofl).

Doing a proper detailed review based on the 8 hours I’ve spent playing this today, tucking this behind a cut because good god this got long lol.

tl;dr: Unexpectedly fun, worth trying at least the demo if you’ve played (and enjoyed) Sakuna of Rice and Ruin (it’s very similar in concept and execution except you’re growing more than just rice and it’s a full fledged 3D action RPG instead of 2D beat ‘em up), OST is amazing, it’s just that $60 price tag that’s a little YMMV. Based on the 8 hours I’ve played today, easily an 8/10

Starting with the cons - the biggest one here is the price tag. For the type of game it is, I’m not entirely sure it’s worth the $60 release day price tag. Definitely get it on sale when it happens; it’s definitely worth it at a lower price. At its current price, though, it’s a massive YMMV. I’ll give it some more time to see how the story pans out to decide whether or not it’s worth the price tag - I’ve spent enough years of my life playing Tales to know just because the opening plays all the tropes straight doesn’t mean the rest of the story will too.

Speaking of Tales - despite this being a SqEnix title complete with the Final Fantasy style character designs and look, there’s definitely a few things that scream Tales and Star Ocean in here. Time will tell whether or not how much of those “Hmmmm this doesn’t feel like FF but definitely feels like Tales/SO” vibes pan out.

The biggest win (actually there’s 2) for the game is definitely the OST though. If you loved any of Go Shiina’s contributions to Tales OSTs over the years (especially his contributions to Zestiria/Berseria’s) definitely give the OST a listen. It’s fantastic, it’s amazing, even though it’s not a Tales OST I actually want a copy of it. If this is what we get from Go Shiina parting ways with Bamco Tales Studio, then I’m not going to complain too hard.

The other big win (which I think has been spread around the internet at this point), is the fact you can choose to play as a male, female, or non-binary character. I’m honestly impressed they included this as an option, now all I’m wondering is if the post-game romance options also let me romance any character of any gender, because 8 hours in and I have to say - I kind of have a crush on Aria, and I would be very sad if I can’t romance her post-game just because I opted to play as the female MC. Also just saying I made my female MC with blue hair and eyes before I even saw Aria, so I swear we’re red/blue compatible and just ... let me date her and make her happy *sobs*

Combat is a little “meh” for now, but there’s signs it’ll get better as you unlock new Jobs and gain levels. Despite people saying there’s no dodge/evasion in combat, there is, but it’s a skill you have to learn off of melee classes ... which, if you’ve been around Tales long enough, will sound really familiar. I can definitely say if you’ve played Tales those same skills will help you get pretty far, and being able to equip 3 Jobs with you when you go out exploring and swap between them gives you a lot of flexibility ... kinda like Ludger actually. My biggest gripe is that there’s no healer for now, so you’re really reliant on early foraging for food and whatever you can farm for HP recovery - but at least you can eat food while you’re in combat and whatever you use on yourself also applies to your other party members so you’re not burning through all of your food stores before you get around to renovating the kitchen and you can cook food for better buffs/HP recovery instead of stuffing your face with whatever random herbs/veggies/fruits you’ve foraged/grown. The AI is decent, but you can’t really adjust what they do in combat or their strategy but at least they won’t go half-cocked on what’s essentially a Giganto Monster and get one-shot. It’s a little annoying though if you’re playing as a Mage because this means you have to be the one to open combat and the monsters aggro on you once you get into (casting) range so it’s a little annoying.

As for the farming sim part, it’s pretty standard farm sim, straight out of the f2p microtransaction mobile game playbook. That said, this is a full game so you don’t have to wait for onerous timers to grow your crops, the farming itself is more plant/water/wander off and do your questing/monster smacking/materials gathering and come back to harvest the next day kind of deal. Having played Sakuna of Rice and Ruin (and loved it) I was hoping this would be how it got implemented so I’m satisfied with how that turned out - plus this also scratches that “I want to play a farm sim” itch I get once in a while that leads me to downloading some terrible f2p microtransaction mobile game to play for all of a month before I hit the paywall of “wait 1+ day(s) for thing” and get fed up with it.

As for the general side quests - I highly recommend you do them as they pop up, as they really help you with earning money and gaining exp for leveling. They also show up at the right time for your level/story progress, so it’s definitely a good way to supplement you with what you need to tackle the main story. Plus you get to learn more about the NPCs in the town, and everything seems to point in the general direction of “You really should get to know everyone in town Because This Might Be Plot Important Later”. Oh, and that’s also where I’m getting a lot of the Tales/SO vibes - for all that the overall game world looks bright and shiny and happy, there’s definitely undercurrents of “This is actually a Crapsack World” that wouldn’t be out of place at all in a Tales game, with a few NPCs you encounter that wouldn’t be out of place in an SO game for both aesthetic and world building information they’re dropping. Also they encourage you to enter the various dungeons multiple times, which is a good thing, since that also helps break up the leveling monotony and it doesn’t feel like you’re just grinding monsters for exp.

Overall, it’s a pretty fun game, the characters are engaging, the plot is interesting thus far (even if it’s pretty standard JRPG storytelling) and as a casual-ish game it’s fun. Maybe not worth the $60, but definitely worth getting if you see it on sale.

#anzu says a thing #harvestella #review #no really don't rush the beginning unless you want to end up broke with no money

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