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sezja · 2 years

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A Different Sting, Part 1/2

A bed, Martiallais thinks - a reminder, and a promise to himself. A good night's sleep in a proper bed. He might not believe in the Twelve these days, might only invoke the Matron's name when he needs a good pair of tits to swear on, but this feels like the closest he's been to a prayer in years. A real pillow under my head, a good solid roof over it, and one solid good night's sleep, thank the Matron.

The Redbelly Wasps don't much appreciate a Wildwood among their ranks, but his mother, gods rest her thieving soul, had worked her magic. Ten years of service to the Redbellies when he came of age, in exchange for lessons in the lance in his youth. Not a fair trade, in Martiallais's book, but she hadn't asked his opinion in the matter. She didn't want him in the guilds. Never said why. She'd probably owed half of them money.

The thought of his mother brings a sad smile to his lips - gone only six moons. She'd lived long enough to see him step into the role he'd been forced to play, the skulking poacher; he'd been putting his lance to work spearing boars and antelopes for the Redbellies. Meat and leather and bone for the Duskwights, to use or to sell; he doesn't ask questions. He just keeps his head down, keeps his mouth shut, hopes the elementals aren't minding him, not today. The Redbellies pay him his share; make sure he doesn't go hungry.

They're not so bad, Duskwights.

Still, it's good to be going home from the hive, if only for a night. Might be as he's just a spoiled city-born Wildwood, but Martiallais wants a warm bed, a warm meal, and some gods-bedamned privacy. Things he only gets once every two moons: the rest of the time, he camps out in the forsaken wilderness with the Redbellies. They seem well-suited enough to life in the rough, though he knows they've homes of their own elsewhere - not that he's ever seen them. They keep their secrets. He might be one of them, but he's not one of them.

Lonely way to live.

He picks up his pace when he reaches the Central Shroud; the trees part overhead to reveal the angry red eye of Dalamud, glaring down from overhead. Deeper in the Shroud, it's hard to see the moon, and it startles him to realize how much larger it seems now - how much closer. It's driving the beasts of the Shroud half-mad. There've been more poachers injured in the past fortnight than Martiallais can recall in the few years he's been working among them; whatever's in the air, whatever's in the moon, it's bad. It's dangerous. It's-

A scream shatters the man's thoughts.

He draws his lance unthinking, urging his tired limbs into a sprint. All thoughts of beds and soft pillows are scattered in the face of danger - if life among the Redbellies has taught him anything, it's that letting his attention stray in the middle of a fight is how a man dies.

So he lets his focus narrow to the point of his lance. To the enemy. Enemies. Anoles, a pack of them, far from their usual hunting grounds. Wilder than they should be. None of the wariness they should have around people.

They're focused on their prey.

Lack of focus can kill a beast, too.

He flies into them unhesitating. Anoles are fast. He must be faster. Habit makes him economical: take the beasts down with as few attacks as possible. Minimal damage to the hide, the better for salvaging it for leather. Martiallais is no great warrior, no trained soldier, but he's very good at killing.

He stands, breathing heavily, surrounded by five dead anoles - poor beasts driven mad by whatever is dragging the moon toward the ground. It's almost a waste to leave them there, but he's not carting around bits and bobs of beast sinew and hunks of flesh and hide; what is he, an adventurer?

Right. Their prey.

He returns his lance to its harness on his back, and looks to her at last.

And the world stops.

Her. Sprawled on the ground, where she tripped. Had he arrived half a second later, she'd be anole food. Her. A plump-framed Keeper of the Moon, short even for her diminutive race. Dark-skinned and dark-haired - the deep blue fur of her tail still sticks out like a bottle brush after her terrifying brush with death. Her eyes, still so wide he can see the whites ringing them, are the color of bronze. Her ears draw back, as flat against her skull as they can press, and her hands clutch at her heart. Martiallais imagines he can feel that heart racing, pounding - pounding like his own, rattling against the bones of his ribcage like they're prison bars, like his heart wants to tear its way free of his chest to be with hers.

Hells.

He shakes his head and approaches, slowly, carefully, hands empty. He kneels beside her. Tries to shake the desire to kneel before her, a supplicant. He wants very badly for her not to fear him - gods, the idea that she might be afraid of him! It would kill him.

"Are you hurt?" His voice is thick in his own ears; she must hear it. He clears his throat. "Miss?"

She blinks. Shakes herself. Takes a few shuddery breaths.

"M... Matron be praised," she says, in the most beautiful voice he has ever heard. "You... you saved my life, ser. I don't... I don't know how to repay you." She pats herself, and he realizes she is trembling. "I didn't carry any money with me-"

"Think nothing of it," he manages, standing. He offers her a hand, glad to see it doesn't have any blood on it - not this time, anyway. "Can you stand?"

Her hand is warm in his, quivering, but she grasps it without hesitating. She isn't afraid of him. She isn't afraid of him. She isn't-

He makes himself release her hand once he is certain she can stand on her own shaking legs. "The Shroud is dangerous these days," he says, with a meaningful glance skyward. Dalamud watches overhead. He has the uncomfortable feeling the red moon is judging him, judging his desires. "What were you doing out here, miss?"

The woman pats at the strap of the pack she wears over one shoulder. "I... I'm a botanist," she says, then hastily adds, "w-well, a botanist's assistant, anyway, but I'm with the Growery, and I... there were herbs, cuttings, I needed to deliver to Bentbranch-"

"They sent you alone?"

Her eyes fill with unshed tears. Martiallais could cut out his own traitorous tongue. She shakes her head, scrubbing at her eyes. "I've made the t-trip a dozen times..."

"In safer times," he says, surprised at his own gentle tone. "You still have the delivery to make?"

"A-aye, but-" She sniffles, eyeing the dead beasts. "There will be more of those-"

Thoughts of a warm bed and a roof over his head seem malms away. "Miss," he says, aware abruptly that he looks and smells and seems exactly like what he is - a criminal who's been living wild in the forest for two moons, out of touch with civilization and in no way qualified to spend time with a lady of any respectability.

But his heart's in his throat and he can't quite make himself stop looking at her. His hand still tingles from her touch. He's aching, and he wants- he wants-

It's just because you ain't seen a woman in more than two moons who couldn't put an arrow through you, he tells himself, only he's never been with a woman before. He's never wanted a woman - or anyone - before. A few fumbling kisses with his fellow poachers in the dark never evolved into anything. He's felt like damp kindling - no spark could light him, through no fault of anyone's.

And now he's ablaze, and can't do a damn thing about it.

If there are gods, they're laughing.

"Miss," he says again, unwilling to leave her side. A while longer. Only a little while. "Miss, I'll walk you there and back to Gridania." Just to be with you a while, he thinks. Just a little while, that's all, then I'll let this go. Even if it kills him. It might kill him.

But she smiles. She smiles, and he dies and is reborn in the same instant.

"Oh, thank you, ser," she says. "Thank you! Please tell me your name?"

"Martiallais," he says, leaving it at that.

"That's quite a mouthful," she says, repeating the name to herself until she's satisfied with her pronunciation. "Might I call you Marty?"

You can call me anything you want. "As you like, miss."

"Tsimh," she says, dipping him an awkward little curtsey. "Please, call me Tsimh. N-now, which... which way is Bentbranch?" Her face colors. "I'm afraid I got a bit lost, running from those creatures..."

He smiles, leading her around the dead anoles, back toward the safety of the path. "We'll get you back on familiar ground," he promises. "Never you fear, Miss Tsimh; I'll keep you safe."

#martiallais redlance #tsimh #i don't have a surname for her oops #my writing #it's self-indulgence hour lads

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i-like-eyes · 2 years

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Hey!! Do you mind doing Hyness for the asks?? Thanks!!

First impression: I'm pretty sure I had the face reveal spoiled and all I remember are Squidward memes. Impression now: When people say they like Frollo from the Disney Hunchback movie, what they mean is that he's an interesting and well written character. But everyone agrees that Frollo is an awful person, it's just satisfying seeing his mindset torn apart and the good guys defeating him in the end. Hyness I can't say is particularly well written, but he is def interesting. Favorite moment: We are the masters of a power driven to the far reaches of the universe, and we have but one desire! Can one such as you possibly fathom how dearly we have clung to this dream across the aeons? How coul- Idea for a story: I like to pretend that the mages don't help him out in the end of HIAD but instead a really good therapist just walks into the dimension and says they're going to get him help and point the girls in a new direction. Unpopular opinion: I like him as a character but that doesn't mean I agree with his actions. Favorite relationship: Listen I mostly do not care for stuff related to the ancients, like how they got to ruin the magic of stuff like the star rod and imply oh actually it was made by these cat boys awhile ago and doesn't add much else to the plot. The only thing I care about is their relation to Hyness because it clearly had an actual effect on his psyche. Favorite headcanon: I don't remember how to joke came about, but me my buddies joke that the ancients are full of cat boys and as such Hyness has made the entirety of the cat boy race his enemy.

#rip #asks #kirby #hyness #character meme

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

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Blurb #9

Pairing- Spencer Reid x Female Reader

CW- none

Author’s Note- this comes from this ask by @leahblackk thanks so much for this love!! it was so much fun to write 💛 also sorry if it looks a little wonky I’m on mobile!!

Word Count— 2K (not really a blurb)

Studies show that the music we listen to at 14 years old is the most influential on our personality and development. Naturally, there’s some exceptions to this. Spencer, for one, tended to listen to classical music or the Beach Boys records his mother had around the house as a teenager. He still can’t listen to jazz without the bittersweet memories of Ethan coming back to haunt him. His music taste, in his opinion, didn’t really develop until Derek made him listen to his CDs on rides during their commute.

It wasn’t until he met his neighbor, Y/N that he learned just how impactful music can be on someone’s life. Spencer, despite Derek and Penelope’s efforts, doesn’t really enjoy modern music. There’s one expectation to that though: Y/N. Everytime she drags him over for late night dinners and movie nights, she always ends up putting a Taylor Swift album on her vintage record player. It’s like a ritual that either comforts her, hypes her up, or softens her heartbreak. Through the months that they’ve been friends, Spencer’s come to enjoy the music nights. There’s something about the way that she sings about love and life that is so familiar to Spencer. The day he realized, it hit him like a ton of bricks. Y/N makes all those magical, heartwarming, Taylor Swift songs make sense.

So everytime he goes over to her apartment, before he knocks he’ll listen for the music. It’s hard to not let his profiling instincts kick when he does this. Thanks to his eidetic memory, Spencer can recognize any of the songs with only a couple seconds of the lyrics.

On a sunny Monday, Spencer listens closely for the record player. He can hear the upbeat, dance tunes of New Romantics. Okay, he thinks. If Y/N is listening to that song, she’s probably happy. So he knocks on the door, a big smile on his face ready to listen to the happiest Taylor Swift songs with the girl he’s pining for and try not to reveal just how much he wants her to love him back.

“Spence! Come on, we’re dancing” Y/N shouts loudly above the music. Spencer doesn’t want to burst her bubble by telling her he doesn’t dance, so he takes her hand and dances his heart away.

In between the jumpy and laughter the song shifts. Y/N must be playing it from her Alexa because the next song is from a different album, Paper Rings comes on next. A song dedicated to the kind of love that probably makes the most sense to Spencer. He’d marry Y/N without any kind of ring- and that’s a terrifying thought.

“I love this song!” Y/N says, closing her eyes and dancing wildly, “You like this one too, right Spence?” she says above the loud music.

Spencer, unable to fully articulate how much he loves this song, decides to grab Y/N by the hand and twirl her around and around. She’s laughing and smiling, happy as she could be. Spencer’s thoughts shift from how beautiful she looks, to how easy this is. How simple loving her could be, but how hard telling her is.

The music slows, turning to Lover, a song that Spencer has dreamt of dancing with Y/N to on a white veiled occasion several times. This must be her happy playlist, Spencer thinks as she pull him close. They’re slow dancing and if Spencer closes his eyes and quiets his mind, he can trick himself into thinking she loves him back. Afterall she holds him like she does.

“I like this one the best,” Spencer whispers, his eyes still closed as he and Y/N sway to the beat of the song, “It’s comforting,” he explains.

“It’s a good wedding song,” Y/N says, resting her head against his shoulder, “like a first dance song,”

“It is,” Spencer says, “It’s actually in the proper beats per second to be a waltz, which is a common dance for a traditional first dance at a wedding,”

“Yeah,” Y/N says, pulling herself in closer to Spencer as she pets small circles into his soft cardigan. The spot where she touches leaves her mark; his heart has belonged to her for awhile now, but Spencer’s ready to give her whatever else she wants, “but dancing like this is also very nice,”

“Hmm,” Spencer says, not trusting himself to say anything else. The music switches again, and Spencer knows the song, probably before even Y/N. Dress comes on and Spencer really isn’t sure how he’ll get through listening to the sultry song that croons about pining after your best friend. Part of him seriously thinks he’s being stalked, because those songs perfectly encapsulate his love and his admiration for the girl next door.

“Oh, I got asked out on a date,” Y/N says, seemingly shocking Spencer out of his daydream, “at the coffee shop. His name is John, he seems nice,” she tells him, sounding a little nervous.

“That’s great, Y/N,” Spencer says, trying to put on a smile for his best friend, but fails to do so, “I’m happy for you,”

“Well it’s, you know. I think I just need to put myself out there and stop waiting around for my wild dreams to come true. Because after all your wildest dreams are just that, dreams,” she says, a little sadly.

“Call me after, Y/N, just to make sure you get home safe,” Spencer requests, he squeezes her hand, in what he hopes can be seen as a friendly gesture, despite him not wanting to let go.

“Of course, Mr. FBI,” Y/N teases, “Alexa, shut up! Hey, Spence, you want to order pizza. It’s been like a week since I watch Long Pond and I’ve got that itch that only listening to This Is Me Trying while stuffing my face with pizza and white wine can fix,”

“Sure, Y/N,” Spencer says, smiling through his heartbreak. He tries to not let Y/N see the tears that prickle in the corners of his eyes when the 1 comes on. It would have been fun, if he could have been Y/N’s “1”. Even in heartbreak, Taylor Swift can capture exactly what Spencer feels.

He almost didn’t bother checking by her apartment because he knew it’s her date with Jake or John, or whatever his name was. Spencer’s not a man to get jealous, he knows that Y/N doesn’t owe him her love just because he loves her. He knows that, but that doesn’t lessen the hurt of her falling for someone other than him.

As he walks by, Spencer’s ears catch the music coming from her apartment. He hears the unrecognizable twangy strum of the guitar and knows it’s going to be back news. Without thinking, Spencer rumages into his pocket, looking for his spare key to Y/N’s apartment. He unlocks the door and is greeted by Y/N’s cat, August, meowing at the door.

“Where’s our girl?” Spencer says, picking up the cat as he slips off his shoes, “hey, Y/N. It’s Spencer. I heard the music and I just thought I’d check in. I thought you were going out on your date?” he asks, finding Y/N curled up on the couch, with piles of tissues littered around her.

“Please, Spence. I’m a mess. I don’t want anyone to see me like this, especially you,” Y/N tells him, mopping her eyes up and petting her lap for August to jump up.

“Hey, hey, honey. You don’t have to worry about being a mess in front of me, I already think you’re amazing,” Spencer says, softly. He tries to gracefully avoid the spoiled tissues, he might be in love with Y/N, but he’s not in love with her used tissues.

“He-he stood me up,” Y/N stutters as a new wave of tears floods her face. Spencer leans over, shutting Alexa off. The sorrow, regretful tunes of Dear John turn off, leaving Spencer with the thought that it probably was an appropriate song to choose.

“I don’t even know why I try any more, Spence” she says, leaning into his body as he puts a comforting and protective arm around her upper half, “it’s useless. I’m doomed to be alone,”

“That’s not true, Y/N,” Spencer says, mumbling into her hair, “not at all. You’re amazing. You’re kind and so smart. You’re beautiful and you have great taste in music. Anybody would be lucky to date you,” he finishes, forgetting himself for a second as he kisses her hair. She smells like green apples and ivory soap.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my friend,” Y/N says. The emphasis on ‘friend’ giving Spencer a little hope at what she is subtly implying.

“What-what if I wasn’t? What if I wasn’t saying this as just a friend?” Spencer asks, daring to be bold and brave for once in his life. He couldn’t be bold and brave for Y/N, then who is he?

She must be thinking, because Y/N doesn’t say anything. Spencer’s mind instantly switches into full gear, thinking of how he’d get out of here all while sparing his feelings.

“Please don’t say those things, Spencer. Don’t say those things unless you mean it,” Y/N tells him, her voice sounding cold and far off, like she’s trying to put some distance between themselves to protect herself. Spencer’s mind ventures to take it as a good thing, when she doesn’t physically distance herself. She decides to stay with Spencer’s arms wrapped around her upper half and his hands drawing shapes on her back.

“I mean it, Y/N. I really do mean it,” Spencer says, sounding terrified, but feeling braver than ever. “I’d never lie to you about how you make me feel. Not anymore at least,” he explains, waiting for Y/N to respond.

“Can I show you something?” Y/N ask, her voicing sounding an awfully lot like Spencer’s with the mix of fear and tension and love fighting for dominance.

“Of course,” Spencer says, nodding into her hair and letting her go.

He watches and waits as she grabs her phone from the coffee table. Y/N launches her music app, but covers her phone so Spencer can’t see which playlist she’s choosing. Y/N has very curated Taylor Swift playlists kko that help her to either middle through her dark days or celebrate her happy ones.

The music starts and just within the first few notes Spencer can tell which song is playing. “Gold Rush,” he asks, of course getting it correct and making Y/N smile.

“I knew I kept you around for a reason,” Y/N says, scooting in closer to Spencer so his chin rests over her head. “I don’t think you’ve heard this playlist yet,” she says, handing him her phone.

Spencer looks at the phone, reading the playlist title Songs That Remind Me of Spencer, but ends up having to do a double take.

“This song always reminded me of you, Spence. I think it just captures how beautiful you are and how scared I am that you’ll find someone that will make you feel that way. Someone that’s more beautiful and better for you—“

Spencer can’t hear it anymore so he does something that was only a figment of his imagination: he kisses Y/N. He holds her head in his hands, brushing gently on her temples. It’s wonderful and magical, and Spencer thinks that he could kiss her for his whole life. He wants to know what makes her whimper and whine or make her flush. He wants to know everything about her because he is her 1, just as she is his.

“You made a playlist for me?” Spencer says, breaking away from Y/N’s lips to kiss her face. All over her forehead, her cheeks and eyes. He kisses her like he can’t get enough and is only encouraged by Y/N giggles for approval.

“Of course I did, Spence. You’re just everything to me and I couldn’t quite say it myself. So I left it up to the best songwriter I know,”

“I’ll make you one, today. Tomorrow, everyday,” Spencer says, kissing Y/N’s hands and wrists, “I just want to make you happy and know how loved you are. Because I love you, Y/N” Spencer says

“Spence,” Y/N says, not quite able to articulate how much she loves him, kisses his forehead, “I love you. God. I love you so much. And I may or may not have re-written Hey Stephen as Hey Spencer,”

#spencer reid #spencer reid blurbs #Spencer Reid x reader

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kekoma · 4 years

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— yaku as your boyfriend.

drum roll for the proud libero who’s energy screams ‘baby’. hope you enjoy.

already— an incredible boyfriend.

i mean we’ve witnessed his amazing personality when he isn’t beating correcting lev.

yaku is the type of boyfriend who is super supportive of you with everything that your mind comes up with.

also won’t hesitate to uplift you either.

you could be having the worst day ever (in your opinion) and mori is already conjuring up all the right words to gain a smile from you.

he does’t like seeing his love in a bad mood to begin with and he knows his words bring a lot of comfort too.

same energy when he’s in supportive boyfriend mode.

like you tell him a certain career dream of yours— he already knows the right words to say and may even go out of his way to research everything to help you.

and let’s not forget this cutie carries the title of ‘mom’ of the group on his shoulders so automatically... it makes an appearance in the relationship.

“alright... here me out babe.”

“y/n, i swear i love you but some of your ideas recently haven’t been good. most of them consist of me bailing you out of jail in the end and we don’t have the funds right?”

“well excuse you sir. first of all, you didn’t even hear me out so my idea could have been ‘good’ for once and second... how do you know if we don’t have the funds to bail me out? i have money.”

“buttercup you have a dollar and 25 cents to your name... you spent most of your money on a plushie that’s bigger than you. now no more thoughts please. besides, i like holding and kissing on you without bars between us.”

just typical mom things. gotta educate you and keep you of the cell. no hard feelings.

fun fact: when you two ever go out to a party and you get drunk, he’s already staying sober. when he notices that you can’t drink anymore/shot face drunk. automatically he’s guiding you back to the car and taking you home.

and once you’re home; mori is laying you on your bed before preparing your pjs, a nice warm bath and everything else.

in the end, he’ll mumble about your alcohol tolerance while cuddling you but funny thing is, he isn’t mad about any of this. rather he finds it kinda cute.

aaand if you’re the type of drunk that throws up then best believe— he’s holding your hair back, rubbing your back and asking a friend to bring up water.

bonus: in the morning when the hangover starts kicking in heavy, he’s already made you breakfast and prepared some painkillers, bring it to your bed while cracking jokes.

also a vv protective boyfriend just to put it out there.

moving on now~

gonna start off with the nicknames since one was revealed previously.

the top nicknames for you are 🥁 🥁 🥁

buttercup, babe, baby, love and his paradise.

occasionally he’ll call you this dove when he’s feeling extra soft some days/nights.

it is what it is.

pda? yeah check that box a few times for me.

in public, mori goes for ‘subtle’ pda.

such as grabbing your hand and putting them in his pockets while his hands are still wrapped around yours.

or if you two are sitting down, yaku will take your hand and put it in his laps. stare at him as much as you want but he’s not letting go.

also the type to fix your hair/push hair behind your ear to use it as an ‘excuse’ to let his hand cup your cheek and stare at you with loving eyes with a smile.

may even lean in to kiss you too.

a simp? yes. a very whipped simp that does some cheesy pda.

now in private— the energy switches.

not saying he’s super sexual when you’re alone together but his hands always find a way to touch you more than before.

and when cuddling comes into play... mori has mentally announced that he’s the big spoon.

attempt to change that and he’s just staring at you strangely for wanting to switch it up.

he only becomes the small spoon when he’s had a rough day or someone made a comment about his height... he’s still insecure about that.

now dates~

be prepared to go on lots of dates. some planned. some not. take what you take.

although hope you’re a night owl since he seems like the type who enjoys dates during those hours. its a little more magical at night, right?

spoiled. let me say it again... s p o i l e d.

yaku does it too much that it should be a crime but his reason for doing this is because he wants you to feel special.

and occasionally he feels like his words aren’t enough to express how much he truly LOVES you.

bonus fact: his favorite dates with you so far was taking you out to the ghibli museum and harajuku. pictures were definitely taken and it’s his lockscreen.

but to conclude— good demon yaku is great boyfriend material. vv lucky to end up with him <3

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tomorrowsdrama · 3 years

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2020: A Year in Thirst

In 1985, Gabriel Garcia Marquez gave the world Love in the Time of Cholera. In 2020 (er, I guess it’s now 2021), I give to you, Thirst in the Time of Covid-19 or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Embrace the Thirst, a brief recap of all the dramas I watched in 2020 and whether such dramas made yours truly parched..

The list contains dramas that premiered in 2020, but also dramas from previous years. If I watched it or attempted to watch it in 2020, it’s on the list.

EDIT: Ok, I’m going to have to do this in multiple parts because apparently I watched more dramas in 2020 than I remembered and talking about them all in one post would just be too long.

This also serves as a sort of greeting to all the people who recently followed me. I don’t know how or why, but thank you for being interested in my thirst, and also so sorry for everything you have/will witness here! I started this side blog last December 2019 as a place to dump all my fangirl feels and thirst with unbridled abandon and let’s just say, the thirst REALLY ramped up in 2020 during quarantine and all the political chaos/uncertainty. The state of the world may be uncertain, but my thirst will always be a comforting constant! LOL. If you want to thirst or fangirl/boy together, I’m all ears.

Anyway, let’s start with the drama that was partially the inspiration for this list.

1. The Wolf

Brief Summary: Sweet hot boy raised in the wilderness/by wolves meets sweet beautiful girl and they fall in love. Shitty evil people do shitty evil things to them to cause a misunderstanding and they are separated for years. Sweet hot boy is given the “Sexy Bloody Tormented Killer Makeover” TM and turns into a VERY VERY BAD HOT Wolf Man after being tortured/brainwashed by an evil asshole king who “adopted” him. Bad Hot Wolf Man reunites with sweet beautiful girl but because of third party machinations in the past, he thinks that she betrayed him so he is suuuuuuch an ass to her (while still maintaining hotness). But even beneath the asshattery (and sexy jerky smirks), he can’t help his love for her and it’s just *chefs kiss*. The angst, the pining, the mutual sacrifice for each other, the torment of wanting to be together but not being able to be together because of external forces/circustances, oh I am getting in a tizzy just thinking about it. I won’t reveal anymore so as not to spoil the drama, but just know the ending may destroy you.

Is she thirsty? Am I thirsty? AM I THIRSTY? Oh honey, if you don’t know the answer to that, then you must either be new here or you haven’t been paying attention to any of my posts in the past few weeks. Look, from the first moment the camera panned to Darren Wang’s very well-defined and tan chest and windswept hair, all semblance of shame and dignity I ever tried to feign on this tumblr was immediately thrown out the window. The feelings that he inspired within me were purely primal. My cavewoman ancestor from millennia ago stopped gathering food in the harsh wilderness for a brief second to transmigrate into my body and go “me want big strong man!”

I mean, below is literally our introduction to Wolf Boy. Am I supposed to just witness this and not feel anything? The director knew what he/she was doing. Anybody who worked on the drama who says they didn’t intend to exploit Darren Wang’s assets is a BOLD FACED LIAR. And this isn’t even Wolf boy in his hottest form.

That would be this:

Damn, your girl needs a moment here. When Wolf Boy turns into Bad Hot Wolf Man, wheeeeewww. The things that came out of my mouth and the thoughts that popped up into my head.

Examples of shameless fangirl drooling can be found here: https://tomorrowsdrama.tumblr.com/post/636986055498792960/dangermousie-this-should-be-illegal-i-mean Here: https://tomorrowsdrama.tumblr.com/post/637238885944033280/dangermousie-i-am-fucking-dead-the-end-this Here: https://tomorrowsdrama.tumblr.com/post/637793196830769152/dangermousie-wolfie-acquired-a-kid-omg Here: https://tomorrowsdrama.tumblr.com/post/635272988321775616/dangermousie-i-dont-know-about-you-guys-but and here: https://tomorrowsdrama.tumblr.com/post/637621638524977152/dangermousie-hnnnnnnnngh-i-am-beginning-to-forget

Honestly, just check out The Wolf tag on @dangermousie tumblr and you won’t be disappointed. Prepare to become obsessed, horny, and heartbroken.

Would I watch it minus the thirst traps? Have you ever thirsted so much that you couldn’t separate what reaction was hormonal and what was objective? Like the guy is so hot to you that when your friends ask you what do you like about him, the first 10 things you can think of are “he’s hot!” and then you try to remind yourself that you’re not a shallow person who actually cares about things other than looks but at the same time you can’t for the life of you think of a non-hot based trait that you like about the guy Yeah, that’s what happened here so sorry, I can’t give you an objective opinion. It’s not that there’s nothing objectively good about The Wolf, it’s just that my judgment is too clouded by Darren Wang’s abs and big hands. But from what I can tell by other people’s posts, even if you didn’t thirst for Darren Wang (Are you made of stone? But also, can you please teach me your magic so I can go back to being a semi-functional working woman?), The Wolf is still a very enjoyable drama with its own non-Darren Wang related merits.

2. My Beautiful Bride

Brief Summary: A drama about a strait-laced banker who wears a dorky backpack and rides a bicycle everywhere while wearing the dorkiest looking helmet ever and his beautiful bride-to-be whom he is hopelessly devoted to. This being a kdrama, and an OCN drama at that, things aren’t all what they appear to be. Yes, you read that right, an OCN. ROMANCE. DRAMA. Turns out the beautiful bride-to-be has a dangerous past that soon comes back to haunt her and she mysteriously disappears one day from strait-laced banker’s life in the typical kdrama way to protect him. Part of the reason she leaves him is also because she doesn’t want him to know about her past because she doesn’t think she’s good enough for him. Little does she know, he knows everything about her past and accepts it all. The only reason why he doesn’t bring it up is because he knows she doesn’t want him to know about that part of herself and he loves her so much he’s willing to do anything to make her happy. But also, another thing she doesn’t know is that underneath that boring but perfectly ironed suit, is a finely chiseled, super efficient fighting machine who did his mandatory military service in the special forces. He is like the terminator meets Liam Neeson’s character in Taken. He has a very particular set of skills and will stop at nothing to get his bride back.

Is she thirsty? Please just watch this video and you will have your answer: https://youtu.be/Ut9MhxWadHM

Prior to The Wolf, My Beautiful Bride was probably the most thirst-inducing drama I watched in 2020.

I mean, just look

at this

at all of this

I don’t’ know how Joo Young saw that body and never questioned whether he really was just a banker. The writers of the drama must be super heterosexual men who are blind because so many of the characters in the drama question why someone as beautiful as Joo Young would ever want to be with someone like the banker. Um..Um...aside from the fact that he is financially well off, treats her well, is loving and respectful of her, and prioritizes her over everything else, JUST LOOK AT HIM. I was so thirsty for Kim Mu Yeol in this role that I would accidentally tag this drama as My Beautiful Banker sometimes. The banker was on a relentless one-man mission to take back his bride and turn me on in the process and ooooooh boy was he successful on both fronts. He is seriously sex on legs every time he beats up a baddie in his quest to find answers about Joo Young’s whereabouts.

Would I watch it minus the thirst traps? I binged the first six episodes of this drama in one afternoon partly because of my thirst, but also partly because it’s a very well made crime-action-gangster drama. This is an OCN drama so you can expect a competently made production with well choreographed/bloody action scenes and a solid script.

3. Scarlet Heart Ryeo / Moon Lovers

Brief Summary: IU plays Hae Soo, a modern woman who is somehow transported back in time to the Goryeo period. There, she gets entangled with a group of royal princes. Her two main love interests are Wang So (played by Lee Jun Ki) and Wang Wook (played by Kang Ha Neul). The princes vie for the throne and some of them for Hae Soo’s affection. Lee Jun Ki does what he does best, which is play a sexy tortured deadly man who looks way too good with blood splattered on his face. Kang Ha Neul is the seemingly kind prince/daddy long legs character who turns out to be not so kind or daddy long leggy. Hae Soo is...well IU did the best she could with what she was given (which was a hot inconsistent mess).

Is she thirsty? Scarlet Heart Ryeo is like the honeypot of thirst traps. It’s essentially a reverse harem set up with a prince for everyone.

Like them young and cute? Then try the 10th prince, Wang Eun.

Want them big, tall, and kinda dumb? Here’s the 14th prince Wang Jung for ya.

Want an evil bastard with an affinity for guyliner? Try out 3rd prince Wang Yo.

Tall, slender, and scholarly? 13th prince Baek-ah will fill your needs.

Is a kind/gentle man who will ultimately disappoint you because he doesn’t show up when you need him most more your speed? Well, let me introduce you to 8th prince, Wang Wook.

Kinda scary but oh so hot and with a ton of baggage? We’re talking, I overpacked and brought 10 overstuffed large suitcases levels of baggage. 4th prince Wang So is the guy for you.

And if you prefer someone with no personality, presence, or memorable traits, I got a two-for-one deal for you in the crown prince Wang Mu and 9th prince Wang Won.

Would I watch it minus the thirst traps? There is political intrigue, scheming, romance, fluffy hijinks (my least favorite parts of the drama), angst, beautiful costumes, and pretty decent fight scenes. Scarlet Heart Ryeo is a pretty solid fusion/fantasy sageuk mostly thanks to Lee Jun Ki. The only person who has ever carried a larger load on his back is Atlas. I’m not saying all the other actors are horrendous. It’s just very clear that the one elevating the material beyond the inconsistencies/messiness/elementary politics of the script is Lee Jun Ki. Your enjoyment level of the drama will likely increase if you are a fan of any of the main actors.

#the wolf #darren wang #my beautiful bride #kim mu yeol #scarlet heart ryeo #moon lovers: scarlet heart ryeo #lee jun ki #kang ha neul #ji soo #cdrama #kdrama

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rpmemesbyarat · 3 years

Conversation

RP Meme from "Rock & Rule" Part Two of Two

You know, love's not what you think

Love is anything you make it

How can I let you feel my love, feel me, and still feel free?

I may not have the answers now. So what?

They keep this place locked up tighter than a hummingbird's tweet.

By the way doll, who're you?

They just don't understand us new women.

After all, every now and then a girl's gotta get out and dance, catch my drift?

I do it every Saturday night! Let's go!

With your funk and my spunk, we don't need much time to find some real hot action!

We're on our way to the Twilight Zone!

My beast; their nightmare.

Magic? Magic, shmagic!

You bumming out on me?

Let's get out of here before we get caught.

No one can send it back.

Raising a real demon could be real bad for your image.

The liability costs would be enormous.

Wars have been started for less!

When I want your opinions I'll give them to you.

We're in the clear.

Oh yeah, the ladies will love this.

You never told us we were concerned.

Aw, are you gonna tuck us in, too?

I was just beginning to like ya, ya little scumbag.

I know she hangs around an uptown club.

You got to listen to my side of the story now.

It was not my fault that night at all those cops were supposed to be on the take; I am on the level!

Now we're even, fink.

Now we're even, right?

Follow them, yes, but don't interfere.

Oh boy! Mutants in the foyer of the club! Isn't it neat-o!

Eww, watch your step!

You let mutants in and it spoils everything, know what I mean honey? They just don't know how to dress.

I got uppers and downers, inners and outers, screamers and shouters, and things that make you go sideways

I know that I see you, and I'm hoping that you feel the same.

Come on and dance

I don't even have to know your name

Hey, come on, there's a booth over there.

Anyhow, he's kinda cute, but this guy had just gone too far so I told him he was a real waldo and I broke his fingers.

This is no time to be lying around!

This could be trouble.

Just keep an eye on them.

Sit tight honey, check this out, they're playing my song!

Whatcha looking for? The girl of your dreams?

Please deposit another dime, your three minutes is uuuuuuuuuup!

Get off the street!

What a pleasant, and unexpected surprise.

Perhaps we should invite him on up for a spell?

There there, come to daddy.

I've got everything I need.

I want everything too

It takes time

Okay, it's showtime.

Look, forget it. I won't sing.

I offer you fame, riches, and a crack at the top, you refuse.

I'm very disappointed.

What are you doing to them? Stop! Stop!

Our word is good enough for me.

You could have killed them. You, you're totally crazy!

Shall we see them off?

How are you boys doing?

I promise, I'll get you outta this.

You're working with the best now.

Survivors described the destruction as "evil," "spooky," and "wow, bad karma, man."

And it smelled just like cleaning fluid, and all it made me do was wanna, like, wax the floor, so like, can you tell me, like, is this concert for real, or is it just another rip off?

I need more power?

I will raise this demon, I will not fail again. Its power will be mine.

I know you love the thing I've got.

You've never seen the likes of me

You think he's acting but he is not

I'm the match, and I'm the pyre

I'm the power seldom used a lot

I'm the big bad thing that makes you shake.

You will worship me, of course

I'm the oracle

I'm the conduit

There is no question that I am it!

He looks so cool, but he's hot

Can you tell the difference between good and evil?

Gosh, we're here.

Hey boss, boss, wake up!

There is no longer black or white, good or evil. We've evolved beyond that.

We all must have our own personal view of right and wrong.

Is what we are doing evil?

'Evil' spelled backwards is 'live.' And we all want to do that.

So until next week, boys and girls, goodbye, and be good!

Destiny has revealed itself.

Take me with you wherever you go.

We can cancel. Nothing else matters. Just us.

Let's go away together.

Fiji? Disneyland? Fantasy Island?

You're a very clever girl.

I've enjoyed your little game but tonight the game is mine.

I like you, and I like this town

You guys just blew the whole show!

Your hometown puts a smile on my face

More! Boost the power, now!

Whoa, that's enough. Too much!

I just had this crazy dream where you were a real nice guy.

Get serious.

Ooo! My head feels like an eggplant!

We've got to rescue her.

I've had it with the hero business.

It's true. I saw them together. I've had it.

Everybody! Freeze!

Oh no! We'll never make it!

Aw, shit.

Whatever it is, it's evil.

DESTROY THEM ALL!

We ain't evil, are we?

It's our one desire

This song sends love through

Look! Something's happening! It's going back!

No! No No! They can't stop you!

Don't go! Please don't go!

You can't do this to me!

How about that show!

You get the greatest show ever!

Let's hear it for these kids, and hope that this never happens again!

#rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay meme #roleplay memes #roleplay starters #rock and rule

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nanasarea · 4 years

Text

Sucker I iv

“Prompt: Y/N attends a school for the supernatural, specifically: werewolves, witches and vampires. The school might be magic, but so is love, right? Right?

Genre: angst, fluff, slight smut in the future

Pairing: reader x 00 line

Inspired heavily by: Legacies (and The Vampire Diaries&The Originals)

main m.list / sucker m.list / i ii iii iv v vi vii viii ix x xi xii xiii xiv xv

“Nothing?” You asked.

“Well, not any of these three at least.” Renjun quickly replied, sensing the panic in your voice.

“And what does that mean?” You ask.

“Well, let’s see, you haven’t killed anyone, so your wolf blood may not be activated yet.”

“Wait, what?” You asked, your eyes widened at the word “Kill”.

“Oh right, werewolves usually unlock their powers in two ways: If their parent was an activated werewolf, meaning the werewolf has been one since birth. Or the more terrifying way, you kill someone, therefor you trigger the so-called werewolf curse.” Renjun explain, with a blank expression.

“And this is normal?” You asked.

“Yes!” Renjun smiled at your dramatic way of showing how shocked you are.

“Wait, does that mean someone who has werewolf blood, whatever that means, can turn into one by let’s say killing a fly?”

You couldn’t help but ask what seemed like a million questions. Luckily, Renjun was more than happy to explain it all to you, even if he didn’t know the answer to some of the questions you asked.

“Not exactly. I honestly don’t know how big of a kill it has be so. I doubt there’s a weight limit.” Renjun laughed.

“Just one question, is Jisung...” “Self defense. I would explain, but I think it’s better if he explains it. It doesn’t have to be an intentional kill.” Renjun explained, before you could finish your question.

“So, what I’m hearing is, you want me to kill someone to see if I have werewolf blood?” You ask.

“No, not exactly. We can ask Mr. Hwang if there’s a spell for that, but it can also mean you’re a doppelgänger or a siphoner or god knows what else exists.” He answered. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll try and figure what you are out as soon as I can.” He added.

“Besides, you now have an excuse to be around yours truly.” He reassured, pointing to himself with a smirk on his face.

“Haha, very funny.” You said, playfully slapping his arm.

“Oh come on, I’m fun to be around, aren’t I?” He replied, his hand on his chest in a dramatic fashion.

“You are, but I’m still not sure how I feel about not knowing what i am and still staying at this school.” You admitted.

“Hey, I just told you, I’ll try my best, you have nothing to worry about.” He reassured once again.

“Besides, we are all very happy to have you here, I’m pretty sure if you end up being a regular girl, Jaemin himself will turn you, just so you can stay at our school.” Renjun explained, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Let’s get back to the dorms, it’s getting late.” He said, guiding you towards the school.

Renjun has become one of your closest friends at this school during your short stay. He was kind to you, he took care of you, sometimes you wondered if all of this was just friendly kindness or if there was a romantic undertone blooming, but you never got to explore that theory, as you were too scared to ask or do anything about it.

Renjun was really pretty, like one of the prettiest people you’ve ever seen, no doubt, he was also very smart and helped you out with almost all of your homework. You have to admit, he sometimes just randomly popped into your head and you didn’t know how to get him out.

You once heard him sing to himself when he was helping you clean and all you could think of was his voice after that. It was soft, soothing, addicting. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was some type of mer-man, but then again you didn’t know of those existed as well or if it was just a myth.

“Get some rest, I’m taking you to this cafe down the street tomorrow, they have the best chocolate chip cookies!” Renjun told you before leaving your side.

“Will do!” You yelled back and made your way to your room.

You saw your roommate’s bed empty, but you thought nothing of it. Your biggest concern right now was not knowing what the hell you were. You just hoped that it would all be revealed soon.

A/N: I know this is very short but it’s more of an informative chapter/spoiler. Yes, I said spoiler. You’ll probably understand once you read the next parts. Then you’ll see which parts I spoiled lol. Also yes, tell me what you think the reader is please, I really wanna know your opinions.

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fuckyeahkosukeniwa · 3 years

Text

Of all the times to forget what he was supposed to do!

The chattering crowd pressed against him on all sides, making the summer heat positively boiling. Not many seemed to mind; their eager eyes turned upwards, waiting for the man of the hour to make his dramatic appearance. Yellow police tape separated them from the nervous officers, clutching their radios and holding their breath like everyone else.

Only one head of spiky black hair looked down. Kosuke searched his empty pockets for any clue about his role in tonight's heist. Emiko and her father wouldn't have sent him out here without a plan.

The mass of people let out a roar of cheers. Dark was here already!?

Kosuke pushed his way to the side of the crowd, only taking one elbow to the face in the process, and took in a clearer view of the museum lawn where some officers remained outside, possibly waiting to catch Dark during his escape. Rounding the side of the building, he saw more, as well as flash of black over by...

"Hey you! Stop!"

Kosuke let go of the police tape he'd crawled under and ran towards the building, eyes finally looking up to where he knew the thief had climbed out a darkened window. Dark's black wings seemed to be struggling to get any lift; any second now, he'd fall to the ground and be a sitting duck. If the officers' flashlights didn't reveal him first.

Three uniformed men stood before him, blinding flashlights pointed at Kosuke's face. He could see the light of two others from behind. They grabbed his arms and dragged him back towards the police tape.

"Ah! I'm so sorry! I just wanted to get a better look! G—guess I got lost!" He tried to smile, raising his shaking hands and praying they couldn't hear his heart pounding. Just a regular guy from the crowd who got too excited. Please don't turn around. Please ignore Dark crawling in the bushes along the museum.

Kosuke stumbled away, legs turned to jelly by the relief, once they had returned him to the "civilian" area and let him go with a harsh warning. He held a hand to his chest as he walked, fingers gripping the fabric of his loose t-shirt once or twice. That had been a close call for Daisuke! And himself.

But it was his fault he'd forgotten what to do and screwed things up in the first place.

Kosuke glanced behind and around him. No officers in pursuit, mercifully. No landmarks that rang a bell either. Azumano was a labyrinth of a district in Tokyo, and wandering into unexplored territory wasn't unheard of. Yet he thought he should at least recognize the areas around museums...

Stopping under a streetlight and looking ridiculously lost, Kosuke glanced around him once more as if the unfamiliar signs and buildings would confess the route home. Before he could continue, a black figure jumped from above, landing silently on the concrete sidewalk and stealing an alarmed shout from Kosuke.

"Dark! Where did you—" A gloved figure covered his mouth.

"Geez, could you be any louder?"

Dark could imitate any voice he wanted, even a feminine one like this, but the hand on his face was surprisingly small.

Kosuke nodded, mutely promising to be quieter. The figure waited a couple seconds, probably not trusting those curious brown eyes, before backing up. Under the light of a white streetlight stood a tall smear of black.

"Emiko-san!?"

The figure's red eyes widened. Before he could blink, she had dragged him into a nearby alley and released him just as suddenly, catching his arm with a sigh before he fell into a puddle. Once he seemed to fully regain his balance, the tight grip on his arm disappeared, and Kosuke resisted the urge to rub the dull ache left behind.

"You got it right the first time, genius. No need to keep guessing." A proud grin spread across "Dark's" lips.

Those sparkling red eyes, an uncommon color around here—in fact, he'd never seen anyone but his own family members with it—had looked overly familiar under the streetlight, but the dim alley illuminated just enough to take in the rest of her.

Save for the eyes, she looked nothing like Emiko. Her hair was long and straight, dark strands trailing loosely down her back. The woman's face was slimmer as well, with sharp cheekbones Emiko could only emulate through her more time-intensive disguises.

Maybe this was one of her disguises to distract the police from Daisuke? His hand touched his chin in thought; that didn't make sense.

But she still reminded him of Emiko and not at all.

A shiny black coat covered her shoulders, held together by a shinier chain on the front, with the sleeves loosely flying at her sides. Black gloves covered her hands, but her thin, muscular arms remained bare. A tight shirt hemmed with lace barely supported her big—

Kosuke jerked his eyes away, cheeks on fire.

Enough staring! He was a married man!

"Got nothing to say now?" She leaned closer, and he stepped back, sweating again from the summer heat. Probably.

"E—Excuse me! I mistook you for someone else! I should go... now," he answered with a shaking finger pointing towards the alley's exit.

"Really? Don't get all shy. You seemed more than a little interested in me earlier." Gloved fingers tapped the statue under her arm, a reminder of his antics at the heist.

Kosuke couldn't even begin to find an acceptable way to explain he'd mistaken her for his son.

"I was lost." His stiff shrug and wincing eyes did nothing to impress the thief.

Dark looked up at the stars and back down at him, eyebrows nearly disappearing into her hairline with flat disbelief. But Kosuke kept his lips shut, knowing from experience, a lot of it, that more words would just make his pathetic lies worse.

"Sure," she smiled eventually, a wide, feline thing. "Try not to get lost on your way home!" With that she disappeared into the sky, leaving a flurry of black feathers in her wake.

He fanned one of the tickling things out of his face as he watched the mysterious woman fly away, his mouth open in silent awe. He'd seen Daisuke and Dark fly many times, even did it himself once with With; the former memories were much more enjoyable than the latter. It was a sight he enjoyed from the ground, evidence of the ancient magic in the Niwas' blood.

Down the empty streets, Kosuke continued to turn the strange encounter with this new Dark over in his mind.

He got lost after all.

With no money for a payphone to call his wife or father, Kosuke settled for a secluded bench under a tree in the park. It was nostalgic, he thought as he laid down on the hard, bumpy wood. At least the season kept the nights warm, albeit stickily humid.

Over a decade of travels had made sleeping outdoors a common occurrence for him, and yet less than two years at home seemed to have already spoiled him. As he closed his eyes, he prayed he'd wake up and see Emiko sleeping beside him in their bed again.

Morning brought with it dew and a clearer head instead.

He shook the moisture out of his hair. A couple leaves and a twig fell out as well.

Kosuke wandered around town wearing the same clothes as the day before and wishing he could bathe. At least he wasn't too hungry; the previous day's excitement must have killed any appetite.

Azumano's streets were timeless, a testament to the artistic traditions that built it centuries ago. The people, however... Kosuke scanned the buildings that he passed, recognizing only half of the businesses. Half of those he vaguely remembered seeing once, before he'd ever left the country.

The sound of running behind him shattered any focus. At a dozen or so "Niwa-san!"s he whipped his head around in terror, just in time to see Emiko latch onto his arm with a hushed "Quick, pretend you're my boyfriend!"

The group of men shouting and calling their name nearly shoved each other out of the way to reach the couple first. Anything else they said was buried by their own din.

This seemed vaguely familiar too...

"I already told you all, I have a boyfriend!" Emiko spoke loud enough to reach their ears and sweetly enough to hold their devoted attention. Her arm wrapped tighter around Kosuke's for emphasis. "I'm sure you'll find someone else that's right for you. Bye!"

With one last dazzling wave—causing a chorus of lovestruck sighs—she dragged a stunned Kosuke down the street and away from the commotion. He finally looked at her, the bouncing red hair from her college days spilling over her shoulders. She wore a smart skirt that swished around her knees.

This was like... the first time they met.

Except there was no train station. And Dark was a gorgeous woman who dragged Kosuke into alleyways.

Could Dark actually be...?

Emiko still clung to his arm and weaved with him around fellow pedestrians on the sidewalk. He tried to focus each step and not his unkempt appearance or the warm tingling running up his limb... especially not the jealous eyes that stabbed daggers into his back.

After they rounded a corner and escaped the sight of her pursuers, she released him with chuckled thanks. Finally he could let out his own breath; no one else would ogle the strange couple's display of affection. Even as his racing heart began to settle, he rolled his now-freed wrist with no small amount of regret.

He'd missed Emiko.

He still missed his Emiko.

But maybe this one could explain what the hell had happened to him! His mind had already run through the possibilities from artwork malfunctions to head injuries, but he could use an expert's opinion.

"Emiko-san, why are you—"

"You know," she interrupted, nose lifted into the air as she walked briskly beside him. "We've never met before, but you're being pretty forward with me." Her serious red eyes met his surprised brown ones.

Kosuke tripped on a raised slab in the sidewalk, probably drawing back the attention of nosy passersby. Nervous energy bubbled from head to toe. "Please excuse me! I didn't mean to— I apologize, Niwa-san."

Emiko's face cracked into a bright smile, as breathtaking as ever but younger than he'd seen in a long time, "Tell me your name, and I might forgive you."

"Ni-" Her brows raised. Shit. That was a strong habit. "Kosuke. My name is Kosuke."

"Kosuke-san." She tested the name, finger on her lips in thought. His heart stung, remembering their real first meeting. He'd stumbled his way through that too, more shy than accidentally rude.

"I changed my mind; you can call me Emiko-san!"

Kosuke nodded, his throat unusually tight. He didn't know how else to respond. This wasn't whom he hoped to find. And yet this was Emiko, without a doubt.

"Don't tell my boyfriend about earlier, by the way!" she said with a conspiratorial wink.

Boyfriend!?

"I—" Kosuke coughed into a fist and let his eyes explore the street they walked down. People filtered in and out of shops, walking down the street hand in hand or bumping past each other in a rush. Azumano on the weekend brimmed with energy. More than a few conversations weighed in on Dark's heist last night. "I didn't know you actually had a boyfriend."

He wondered if the other man had been waiting to meet her when the crowd took chase. He wondered what he was like. How did they meet? Had he promised to father her phantom thief son?

But it wasn't his place to pry. And it probably wouldn't help the cold weight sinking from his throat to his stomach.

He and Emiko were strangers now. Somehow. Of course she'd find someone else.

No questions were necessary as she seemed more than happy to rave about her boyfriend anyway.

He was a great catch, she explained. Handsome and the youngest of four brothers. He was doting but gave her plenty of space. And being a taken woman meant other suitors wouldn't bother her... as much!

Her hands waved in excitement as she described their latest date on a ferry. He'd gone all out for a romantic dinner on the water. He clearly made her happy.

"Are you alright?" Curiosity replaced that happiness when she looked at him, and his shoulders dropped with guilt. Get it together, man.

"Yes, sorry. I was wondering..." Should he really ask it? Here? He'd spent a good chunk of the previous night burning with questions, and she had just raised a few more. If she really was the current Niwa heiress... "Does he know? About you and... uh..."

"Who?" She tilted her head, wavy hair flowing along with the movement.

Men and women on the sidewalk paused to look at the beautiful redhead walking past them. Kosuke ducked his head and leaned forward to whisper the thief's name in her ear. He still hadn't gotten used to the attention his wife attracted. Well, not his wife anymore...

Kosuke pulled away, his face's color the same as her hair, aware too late that he stood far too close to a woman who was not his wife.

"Sorry, that wasn't— Please excuse me again." He apologized a lot lately, didn't he?

Eyes that had once been innocently wide narrowed to match her sharp smirk. They approached at the next intersection in silence, where at once she turned onto a street with fewer people. Boxes replaced pedestrians in front of late-night noodle restaurants whose lights waited until evening for hungry salarymen. And perhaps phantom thieves.

"He doesn't know," she said matter-of-factly, eyes closed and nose raised in the air again.

"You're not going to deny it?" Kosuke gaped. Their son denied being Dark to the moon and back with everyone he met!

At that thought, his heart ached again. He missed someone who didn't even exist here...

"Why should I? It's not like anyone who matters would believe you." She wasn't wrong.

"Do you plan to tell him?"

"Is that really any of your business?" A red eyebrow raised again. "Do you interrogate every woman you meet?"

His two hands raised in front of him, and Kosuke almost apologized once more but she cut him off with a laugh. With a couple skips, she moved ahead and twirled around, hair bouncing along a second later. The hot sunlight caught the red waves, sparkling almost orange.

Emiko continued walking backwards so Kosuke continued forward, glancing ahead in case he needed to warn her of curbs or other obstacles on the sidewalk. She easily hopped around or over them before he could open his mouth. She was showing off and it was working.

"If I tell him, I can't be Dark anymore," she answered his previous question and stuffed her hands into her skirt's pockets.

"Because he might accept both of you?" Kosuke knew that Daiki had missed Dark when he left, but he had assumed it was something inevitable if not desirable.

"Not only that. He probably would though." Pink lips split into a happy smile. "On the off-chance that he doesn't accept, how else will I become Dark?"

"Can't you find someone new?" He cringed at his quick question. It wasn't like he was hoping to sweep in for the rebound—

"Oh? Are you volunteering, Kosuke-san?"

It really wasn't like that! He slapped his forehead while she pointed at his flushed cheeks and laughed.

Kosuke raised his searching eyes to the blue sky before returning them to her. One more thing. "I thought only men in the Niwa clan could become," he lowered his voice, "Dark?" She might not mind, but he was unused to discussing the family curse in the open air.

"You seem to know a lot about this." Her gaze took on a familiar shrewdness, the look she often wore when planning for the next heist or designing trap blueprints.

"I—" Kosuke stammered. He had been overly comfortable around her from the start, too used to relying on her shrewdness, not outmaneuvering it. "I'm just a researcher." It was his turn to shove his hands into his pockets.

Emiko hopped over to walk beside him again, leaning to see his down-turned face.

"Don't worry so much. I said it didn't matter." She winked. "Besides, you obviously don't know everything. Ladies make just as good thieves as the gentlemen!"

They reached the next intersection too soon, and Emiko bid him another dazzling goodbye while his head was still spinning with new information.

This wasn't exactly the world he remembered. Kosuke glanced around. This part of town wasn't what he remembered either.

By the time he found his way back to the park, the sun had begun to set. Kosuke settled on a bench in a different wooded area, hoping no policeman would find him tonight either.

Another warm night turned into another warm morning.

Kosuke didn't know how he lucked out—chalk it up to the odd jobs a researcher sometimes does for information in remote towns—but he found work and an apartment to stay in. Nothing fancy or spacious, a mere 4.5-tatami room, but there'd be no more beetles crawling up his shirt in the dead of night!

One advanced paycheck later, and he put food in his stomach for the first time in days. The bland steamed buns might as well have been a gourmet meal.

With a sigh of relief, he ran a hand through his newly-washed hair and put on a green apron. This shop owner deserved the best shelver he could be after so generously hiring him under the table. Going to Emiko's house and explaining the situation to her and her father was out of the question, but having no ID put most sources of income out of reach.

This small international grocery, wedged between a ramen shop and a sign-maker's business, was packed to the ceiling with colorful goods in dozens of languages he recognized but mostly couldn't read. Boxes filled the cramped aisles and nearly covered the lights on the ceiling, adding up to a hot and, most importantly, private atmosphere.

Kosuke had to admit, being only a street away from a museum was a huge plus as well.

Maybe he could ask an artwork in there for help. Or he could learn more about pieces that had been "disposed of" or left the country before his research for Daisuke had begun. If he ever returned home, this information could be useful!

As he cut open boxes and pulled out various bags of dried noodles, heavier thoughts nagged at him. What if he never returned home? What should he do about Emiko and Phantom Thief Dark? Did he need to do anything? She was happy here. Wasn't it better to live her dream like this, instead of devoting herself to finding a husband and raising a son to live it instead?

The plastic bags crunched and crinkled as he aligned them by shape and ingredients. He understood why she had worked so hard to raise Daisuke to be a thief. On their third date, she'd told him tales of her father's exploits, magic blood, and the sudden loss of her mother. He'd given her a handkerchief again, this time to wipe her eyes.

Niwa Emiko never cried tears of sadness; tears of joy, yes, she was a fountain of joy, but nothing could bring this talented beauty down— Or so he had heard adoring young men sigh in train stations she frequented.

Crying beside him on a park bench, she looked nothing like the unreachable mystery he'd admired for over a year. Niwa Emiko had reasons and dreams of her own, as well as a heart that reached out to help others even when it couldn't help itself. Maybe it was then he knew for sure he wanted to marry her.

How could he have resisted? She was brilliant and kind, often ridiculous with her over-the-top antics, but also awe-inspiring and sometimes frightening. He had wanted to spend his life uncovering every side of this surprising woman.

Kosuke cut another box, this one filled with shiny tins of strange teas and their strong odors. If a customer walked past, they might laugh at the sappy smile on this shelver's face. He remembered how proud their son made her each time he avoided deadly traps or brought home a treasure.

He missed his family with a piercing ache that grew each time he woke. It was his years of traveling all over again, but this time there was no easy road home. No Emiko waiting for him either. And yet...

And yet.

The boxy television by the cash register crackled out news from an excited journalist. Phantom Thief Dark announced her next target! Police were already preparing for the 9 PM heist! The latest artwork to catch her eye seemed to be—

Kosuke started and hid when the shop owner spotted him peering around the corner of his aisle, trying to catch a glimpse of the television screen.

He plunged into the next box with gusto, fighting back a guilty blush at being caught slacking. His ears reached for any information over the noisy bags of sweets in his hands.

Dark would be in the Lagalith Museum tonight! Just a street away!

The rest of the day passed in a haze, with endless restocking as waves of customers shopped. He'd only mistakenly pointed someone to the wrong aisle twice. Like a library, every product had a proper place; he just had to learn where.

Hanging his apron on a hook in the back room and thanking the shop owner, Kosuke stepped out of the building without a plan.

Emiko—no, Dark's heist wouldn't start for another hour. His stomach wasn't thrilled by the idea of dinner, but why? She was a professional thief, she'd be fine! Did he just want to see her again? What would he say?

His traitorous feet brought him to the yellow police tape in front of the building. A sizable crowd of journalists and Dark's most dedicated fans had already formed. He thought he saw a woman in plainclothes with long blue hair among the officers at the entrance of the museum, but the people shoving around him were too big a distraction.

In the end, Kosuke didn't speak with Dark.

He sweated along with the rest of the civilians, watching in awe as the sleek black figure flew through the sky on magnificent wings. He smiled, impressed as always, when she disappeared from sight. He held his breath when alarm bells rang out within the museum, imagining Dark dashing around and over officers, laughing triumphantly as she juggled a priceless vase between her gloved hands before escaping from a balcony into the night sky. All that remained of her visit was a confetti of black feathers over the area.

Kosuke stared up at the dark blue, stars invisible with all the searchlights around, long after the rest of the crowd dispersed. The excitement of the night's event thrummed in his veins as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. All the while, one thought replayed in his mind: Emiko was a phantom thief!

A damn good one.

Aside from the night he first met Emiko's Dark, she handled each heist masterfully, mocking the desperate security guards that always grabbed too slowly.

Each night he visited a different museum to watch her fly. Some close enough to his side of town to walk to, while for others he'd hop on a train and arrive halfway to the end.

He didn't know how, but Emiko found his workplace throughout this. She stopped by to browse, sometimes in disguise—and who would have guessed? A heist at the Lagalith Museum was announced later that day!—and stayed to talk. She would hold up any bottle of sauce or snack and teasingly ask him to translate or recommend one. If his boss minded at first, it was quickly smoothed over by Emiko's sweet flattery and shining personality.

Kosuke suspected her beauty brought in more customers too, but he kept that theory to himself.

She always left with an energetic wave and a stunning smile. Sometimes she threw him a wink and a "See you later!". His own waving hand lingered in the air afterwards, dizzied by the speed with which this woman came and went.

More than a few customers asked if she was single or, more disbelievingly, dating him. Kosuke had to explain each time that she was taken, but not by him. He wondered when she'd introduce him to her boyfriend but didn't look forward to it and didn't ask. The shelves ended up organized to perfection on days with those wonderings.

After a day with no visit from Emiko, Kosuke slowly hung up his apron and walked into the summer air. Orange light from the setting sun cast deep blue shadows on half the street. He sought some relief from the endless heat in them. As he stepped down the curb to cross the intersection to his apartment, a strong hand dragged him sideways.

"Emiko got a bit too flustered earlier so it's my turn to have fun."

"Da—" Her hand covered his mouth, the soft skin, with a few callouses on the fingertips, pressed into his suddenly already overwarm face. Kosuke reviewed the turn of events in his swirling mind.

Emiko had mentioned going out somewhere with her boyfriend this week... Ah. Kosuke wasn't sure how to feel about her date being interrupted by the Niwa love genes.

He jumped back and she lifted her hands into the air with a gentle smile. Making peace?

"You got some place to be?" He tilted her head to the side, loose black hair following in a silk wave. She almost looked out of place in Emiko's bright clothes and a cutesy purse covered in rabbit keychains dangling from her arm.

"No, I just..." Why was it so hard to speak to this woman? She was Emiko, wasn't she? Or a part of her... "I was just going home."

He bowed and started to turn around, heart rate still not settled after the exciting abduction by the thief.

"And what, you can't talk to me first?" Her lean arms crossed under her breasts, which were slightly too big for her flowery dress and— and anyway—

Kosuke shook his head, eyes flitting up and down the street in case they caused a scene. It was mostly deserted. "No. I— I mean, yes, I can talk! Is here okay? Ah, or should we..."

She rested her weight on one leg, the hem of her dress swinging around her bare knees, and said nothing when he trailed off. Kosuke rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable with the scrutiny... and everything else about this situation.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked lamely, losing out to her mocking patience.

"You pick!" Dark rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You show up at every one of my heists, but when I finally give you the time of day, you run away! What's your deal?"

Why did he go to all her heists?

On days when he didn't participate, Kosuke had been content to watch Daisuke's criminal activities from the couch with his father-in-law. He knew Daisuke and Dark were an incredible team, but—call it fatherly instinct—he'd spent each of their heists wondering if this would be the night it all went wrong. His family could take care of themselves and had backup plans for everything; he knew that, but he worried all the while, useless on the couch.

He didn't worry about this Dark in front of him, on the other hand. She'd proven to be an amazing thief. So why?

"I'm not sure," Kosuke said, feeling more and more foolish.

"Maybe you were hoping to see me again?" Her predatory grin moving closer would have made Kosuke flush if blood weren't already draining out of his face. Emiko could be listening to their conversation!

Dark must have figured out his feelings for Emiko. What if she told? Would that ruin the strange friendship they'd built?

Was there really no chance for something more? He managed to marry her in one lifetime already!

Another question replaced those, and Kosuke opened his mouth, hand hovering over his chin as he stared at Dark.

"What, Kosuke?" The name—his own wife had never said it so bluntly—broke the spell.

"Da— Sorry, uh, Miss?" From the corner of his eye, Kosuke watched a delivery boy on a bike ride past them on the street. "Why did you come here instead of staying with Emiko's boyfriend? Shouldn't you like him too?"

"She wasn't kidding when she said you were nosy as hell." She said that!?

That was an imprudent question anyway. Kosuke's hand rose and combed through his sticky hair. His apartment wouldn't be much cooler than the shade they stood in.

"Would you mind taking a walk with me? There's a great park nearby."

"If you promise to never call me Miss again. Go ahead and use my name if you have to."

Dark latched onto his arm and told him to lead the way, but with her fast pace, he swore the roles were reversed. As far as directions went, he'd point and say "We turn th—" and she swiftly pulled him that way.

Besides those words, they didn't talk during the journey. Dark wore a playful smile the entire time, and said nothing along the way. She was the opposite of Emiko's talkative sunniness, which was always ready to share a story or make small talk. As for him, he'd stuck his foot in his mouth enough today and kept it closed.

Kosuke eventually lost the blush spurred by Dark's body pressed against him. Once or twice he'd tried to subtly reclaim his stolen arm, but she didn't notice or didn't care.

"This is it?" she asked as they stepped onto the walkway that split the grass. "It doesn't look that great." The sun had only just set, covering everything from bushes to benches in darkening blue light.

"I come here a lot to think," Kosuke admitted. "I like how peaceful it is at night."

"Don't you spend enough time in your head as it is?" Dark teased, softly knocking his head with a fist. Kosuke laughed quietly, surprising himself.

"Probably. But it's what I'm best at." Reading, recalling information, taking notes, connecting dots. It had taken over fourteen years, but he could say he'd honed those skills at least.

Dark let go, stretching her long arms over her head. The fresh air on his own was chilly compared to the furnace of body heat from before.

They walked side by side in the growing darkness.

"What do you think about me?" She broke the silence sometime later.

Kosuke looked ahead, as far as he could see through the scattered trees. "... I don't know," he admitted again. He still didn't know how he felt about Daisuke's Dark. He was there. He was a mystery. He was a member of the family.

And she was...?

"Okay, well, this was an exciting date. I'm off to do something even more daring, like color-coding Emiko's socks! See you!" With popped out of her purse and transformed into huge black wings. Before Kosuke could say goodbye, the thief and rabbit lifted off into the sky, leaving him with nothing but an empty park.

After the confusing conversation with Dark, Kosuke mentioned his interest in researching artworks to Emiko on her next visit, offering to gather information on any pieces she owned or was interested in. She snickered and thanked him but did mention a painting she'd had her eye on. No special reason, she just wanted it.

That was enough for him. Kosuke buried himself in books in the various libraries around town, filling notebooks with information on each of Emiko's targets over the weeks.

Sometimes she snuck through the open window of his stuffy apartment to watch, catching the falling books from a tower he'd bumped into out of shock.

"You could use a bigger place to live."

"It's just me so it's fine." He reassured her each time.

He didn't mind, really.

In his heart, he was actually being rather selfish. Because, alone or not, it felt like home to help the Niwa family again. When he lost himself in the texts and histories, he could forget that this wasn't his old life anymore. The extra time with Emiko was a bonus he'd never turn down.

Sometimes he wondered if Emiko's boyfriend knew where she spent her time. Sometimes he wondered what the neighbors thought of the strange woman's voice that laughed and told loud stories in his room at all hours of the night, but whose owner was never seen walking in or out of a door.

Once, Emiko climbed through his window with her arms full of grocery bags. Paying no mind to his insistence that she was his guest to feed, she cooked them both dinner with a declaration that she needed the practice and he made a good guinea pig.

"So? How does it taste?"

They had spread his futon onto the floor and sat on it, plates in their laps for lack of a table or chairs. Kosuke's bamboo chopsticks poked at the overcooked chunks of meat and unevenly chopped vegetables. She wasn't kidding when she said she needed practice. Thieving must take up a lot of time that had been devoted to other hobbies, in another life.

But familiar flavors lingered on his tongue, red pepper and a hint of honey. He remembered many meals at home with these, and it was at once so dear and nostalgic, he could only nod.

"Come on, I need more than that!" Emiko nudged him with her elbow, dabbing her sweaty face with a towel at the same time. Even with an open window, two bodies and a countertop stove made a lot of heat in this small room!

Kosuke swallowed and found his voice, "I like it. Thank you, Emiko-san." He meant it.

She raised her arms in victory, laughing and promising to bring more food, completely ignoring any and all polite refusals.

Sometimes Dark visited instead of Emiko, usually waiting for him to return from watching her latest heist. She'd proudly tell him how it all went down inside the museum with the police, answering his questions or scoffing at the simplicity of them, but smiling all the while.

And that was how the three of them spent their summer.

On one clear evening, he cut through his usual park on the way home from a heist.

This one had gone on later than usual, something about a new security system by a special commander, and his feet ached with each step. Kosuke flopped down onto the park bench in a wooded area, remembering the night he'd spent there earlier in the season. A lot had happened since then.

The shop owner and frequent customers were kind to him. They often invited him out for drinks, which he occasionally accepted. The bulk of his free time went into researching or chatting with Emiko and Dark. It wasn't bad. In fact, he always looked forward to the days when he'd see one or the other.

He titled his head back, resting it on the cool wood and staring at the sparkling stars.

But were his son, father-in-law, and his Emiko out there? Would he ever see them again? He'd found nothing in the museums or libraries to explain his situation. Every lead quickly hit a dead end.

This really might become his new, permanent life.

Kosuke closed his stinging eyes.

And what then?

"What are you thinking about now?"

Kosuke's eyes flew open and then slammed shut, not expecting the bright sunlight that blinded them. His neck cracked and twinged with each movement as he lifted it from the hard bench. A numb hand clumsily rubbed his eyes.

When he finally stopped blinking, Emiko's curious face came into view.

"Emiko-san! Why are you here?"

"You weren't at the shop or apartment so it had to be the park." The shop..! He must be late for work!

"Did you spend the night here?" She chuckled softly and pulled a leaf out of his spiky hair. Apparently he had.

"Not intentionally..." Kosuke rubbed his sore neck. He shakily stood, taking a few steps forward before turning around to look at her.

Niwa Emiko.

Her wild red hair spilled over her shoulders as usual, shining brighter amongst the blue sky and green vegetation. Hands in pockets, she amusedly watched him smooth his wrinkled shirt and gather his wits.

His heart pounded in his chest, not entirely from the sudden awakening. Work could wait. He'd thought enough last night and all the weeks before. Maybe some of that Niwa bravery had finally rubbed off on him?

"Emiko-san, please go out with me!"

Despite his inner monologue, it wasn't an impressive or dramatic confession by any means. Children and friends and dogs carried on in the park, making noise all the while. Trees gave them some semblance of privacy at least.

"Kosuke-san, you know I'm already seeing someone..." It must grow tiring, having this same conversation with so many men. And he proved to be no better than them. No, worse than them; she'd shared her secrets with him, and look at what he ended up doing anyway.

Emiko herself didn't look terribly disappointed at least. She looked...

"I know." Kosuke couldn't meet her warm gaze anymore as guilt and resolve warred inside. "And I know how important being Dark is to you. I don't want to change who you are or take her away.

"But... being part of your life is important to me too." His words were quiet and steady. "I don't want to give that up either."

She kept silent. But there was no taking it back now.

Slowly, he raised his heavy eyes and saw that Emiko had been replaced.

"You've got nerve! So you just waltz over, say a few sweet lines, and take whoever you want?" Dark drawled, tossing her long, dark hair over her shoulder. A breeze picked up, sailing through the grass and trees, mussing their hair further.

Kosuke stared at the beautiful thief, his surprised face gradually becoming earnest again. He'd said his piece. He wanted to share his life with Emiko again. All of her.

"No wonder we picked you," she continued with a tilt of her head, looking him up and down with sparkling red eyes and an appreciative grin. "Niwa Kosuke."

"You—huh?" Kosuke's coherence slipped away along with any idea of what was happening.

Why did she—

—

Kosuke opened his eyes in a dark room, listening to the quiet breathing beside him for several seconds before he looked down.

And screamed.

He kicked haphazardly at the strange striped beast sitting on the foot of his bed. It jumped and landed beside him, spinning into a triumphant pose before rolling onto half of his pillow.

"Haha! Not nearly as fast as your Dai-chan!" Baku, the latest artwork to join their family, stretched his front hooves high and dared Kosuke to try again.

Kosuke pulled the tangled sheets back over his legs, hands shaking along to his pounding heart. Just when he thought he'd adapted to life in the Niwa home, something new arrived to make everything ridiculous again.

Wide brown eyes scanned once more the room lit by pale slivers of moon and streetlight, as if the park and Dark were hiding in a corner, rather than in... a dream?

Emiko poked the tapir's squishy belly and tiredly scolded, "Be nice." Baku miraculously settled down with only a roll of his uncovered eye.

"Sorry to wake you, Emiko-san." Kosuke rubbed a hand over his face and sighed in relief. Despite its shocks, it was good to be home.

"Don't worry about it, dear." He was all too aware of the unwelcome guest nestled between them, listening to every word. "It was time to wake up anyway."

"But it's not yet 5 AM..." Kosuke spied the digital clock on her nightstand through his fingers. Even his dedicated wife didn't get up this early to set traps... as far as he knew.

"It felt longer than one night, right? Dreams are amazing!" She laid a hand on her cheek and sighed wistfully, "And that's what it feels like to fly. You never said it was so freeing!"

Kosuke shuddered at the reminder of his flight with With a couple weeks ago. "Freeing would be the last word I use to describe— Wait, you...? I also had a dream that you flew!"

Baku broke in, "It was the lady's dream, bub. A damn tasty one too. But you went and stuck your head in where it didn't belong." At that, Emiko tapped the tapir's head and shooed him away. He hopped over Kosuke's legs onto the floor and sauntered out the cracked door, swinging it open completely with his rump.

Kosuke waited until the sound of foot-(hoof?)-steps disappeared down the hall. "I must have spoiled your time as Dark... If I had known, I wouldn't have..." What? Tried to win her back? Spoken to her at all?

She deserved to enjoy her time as a phantom thief, at the very least. He bowed his head in apology. He could have also enjoyed her happiness from afar.

Thin fingers lifted his chin, and he stared down at her warm eyes, still heavy with the last remnants of sleep. "Oh, Kosuke-san, you didn't understand? I had fun! Being Dark was even better than I had imagined it to be. I'll thank Baku in the morning for his prank, just this once." Good dream or not, Kosuke was already considering locking their bedroom door to keep out future late-night visitors.

"I have to thank you too," she went on. Her smile softened at his confused expression. Those fingers reached further to the back of his head and pulled his face closer to hers. "My dream wouldn't have been complete without you there." Public or private, her frank affection never failed to make him blush.

Kosuke remembered their adventure with strange clarity: the amazing phantom thief flying above, their chance meetings and conversations, time with his then-not-wife, an impulsive confession his younger self couldn't have dreamed of making. Dark's words echoed in his ears.

Ah.

He finally understood his role.

He rubbed his neck, hand stopping over where hers still rested. Kosuke shyly returned her smile.

"My Kosuke-san played the best sacred maiden."

Her delighted laughter drowned out his embarrassed "Emiko-san!". For a moment Kosuke swore there was long, dark hair framing his wife's cheeky grin. But only a moment, and then she pulled him into a kiss.

THE END

#writing #mine #wife #curse #7k

2 notes · View notes

softest-cinnamon-roll · 5 years

Note

11 please! Need me some tooth hurting fluff

11. “I can’t believe you did all this, for me”

* * * * *

Unpopular opinion, Eddie was aware, but he absolutely detested Christmas. All the lights, the songs, the cheerfulness made him want to roll his eyes, lock his door and throw away the key. People at work called him Scrooge because he never attended any of the parties, or even put a little tree up in his office. It wasn’t that he was a Scrooge as he never judged anyone on liking Christmas themselves, he just didn’t particularly enjoy the holiday.

Then he met Richie Tozier. Richie who was very much Christmas’ biggest fan, someone that Eddie would never have imagined himself falling in love with. Except he did fall in love with him, head over heels in love. Richie never questioned Eddie’s distain for Christmas, and always kept talk about the holiday to a minimum when they were together. He never even mentioned the fact that Eddie didn’t own a single Christmas Decoration.

It wasn’t until the following year, when they had been dating for a while and Eddie practically lived at Richie’s place that Richie finally brought up the Christmas thing. They were lying in bed, sweaty and spent, Richie’s hand making light patterned with his fingertips along the expanse of Eddie’s back when he brought it up. “Eds…why do you hate Christmas so much?”

Eddie blinked and looked up at Richie, resting his chin on his chest as his eyes went a little sad, “Why has it taken you so long to ask me?” He asked in response and Richie shook his head. Eddie sighed, Richie wanted a real answer this time. “It’s nothing exciting, Richie. No-one in my family died and Christmas and I wasn’t a poor kid who never got anything from Saint Nick.”

“Then why?” Richie asked. “And I know it’s not just a preference, because you turn your nose up at the lights that decorate shop windows, and it’s like you are personally offended by anything Christmas. Please Eds, I love you and I really want to know why you hate the holiday so much. I promise never to bring it up again if you tell me.”

With a sigh, Eddie nodded and sat up, running a hand through his post sex- curls, “I don’t like it because I’ve never celebrated it…” Eddie finally admitted. “I never had a tree, or decorations, or stockings full of treats. I never went out Christmas Carolling or baked cookies or made a star to put at the top of the tree. I never did any of that stuff growing up and when…when you don’t get to participate the feeling of being left out just turns into one of resentment I guess.”

Richie blinked back at Eddie, shock clear over his face and he swallowed, “You- you never celebrated Christmas? Like…ever? Why? Is it your religion?”

“No, no I don’t really have a religion… obviously as I am the definition of a sinner.” Eddie managed to let out a laugh at his own joke. “My mother thought it was a waste of time and money, and it was also a way for kids to put on weight due to all the sugary treats. She also believed that getting a whole bunch of presents on one day of the year was a bit silly as it would make children spoiled. If you wanted to get your children a present, do it on their birthday. She thought tree’s would bring in diseases and the lights would make my eyes hurt. As for the snow and the carolling, I never went outside because she was scared I’d get sick, so I never did any of that either.” Eddie stopped. “By the time I finally broke free from her I just…didn’t see the point as I was too old and the magic was well…gone.”

Arms were wrapped around Eddie’s waist as Richie sat up, pulling him into his lap, “Eds that…that is fucking awful. I just- I am so sorry your mother did that to you. I know you told me about her making you believe you were sick and all but…ruining Christmas? That’s a whole new level of fucked up.”

Eddie shrugged a little, running his hands through Richie’s nest of curls, “Don’t worry about it Rich… okay? It’s done with, it’s over. I’m a grown man now and the last thing I want is to ruin this mood because of my traumatic childhood past.”

He could see that Richie was still shocked over the reveal, but he let it go with a nod, rolling Eddie onto his back and moving on to round two of that night, all thoughts of Christmas long forgotten.

* * * * *

With a shiver, Eddie shoved his way into Richie’s apartment, using the key they had gotten cut a few months before. It had only just started snowing, but it was bitter cold outside and Eddie much preferred the heat over the cold. As he closed the door and let the heat of the place consume him, a few things hit Eddie’s senses. First, the apartment was rather dark, a low light coming from below the door of the living room. Second there was a sweet smell coming from the kitchen, close to the smell of cookies or gingerbread and third, he could hear music, soft but very much there.

He frowned and toed off his shoes, making his way down the corridor and towards the living room. As Eddie pushed the door open, the sight that befell him was the last thing he ever expected to see…and it sort of took his breath away. Right by the window stood a Christmas tree, decorated with lights and tinsel galore, topped with a star on the top. The fireplace was covered in face snow and ornaments, with two stockings on either side; one with Richie’s name on it and the other with Eddie’s. On the coffee table sat some baked Christmas Cookies and there was some festive music playing from the stereo in the corner.

Richie was standing by the door that would lead to the kitchen, a nervous look on his face as he tried to figure out what Eddie was thinking. Before Eddie even had the chance to respond, Richie threw himself into an explanation. “Okay I know this is a lot but I have been thinking about it ever since you told me and I…I got this idea. You said you hated Christmas because you never got to do any of this stuff so…I thought maybe we could do some of it and if you still hated it then that was find but…would you humour me?”

Eddie swallowed, taking another look around the room as tears welled up in his eyes. He never thought that someone would ever go through this much trouble for him…especially when they didn’t know how he would even react. He looked back at Richie, biting down on his lip, “I can’t believe you did all this, for me,” he breathed.

“Of course I did,” Richie replied immediately, stepping closer and resting his hands on Eddie’s waist. “Eds I love you, I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I want you to be happy and I am hoping that this will make you happy.” He leaned down and kissed Eddie’s head. “Also…I was wondering if you did like it, then would you like to celebrate Christmas Day with my family and I?”

With a hitch in his breath, Eddie nodded his head, pushing up on his toes and kissing Richie softly on the lips. “With you? I’d love to.”

Maybe there was still a place for Christmas in Eddie’s heart after all.

* * * * *

@richietoaster @tozier-boy @eds-trashmouth @bitchbrak @sloppybitchreddie @its-stranger-than-you-think @maximusfraker @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @thejadeazalea @halfway-happy353 @tinyarmedtrex @inthebreadbinwrites @kat-ships-everything @takeourpure @lo-v-ers @that-weird-girls-blog @studpuffin @s-s-georgie @reddie-for-anything @trashmouthtozierr @richietoizer @girasol-eddie @bi-bi-richie @honeybeehanlon @mars-14 @reddiesetandgo @marsisaplanetyall @xandertheundead @sedanleystanley @hawkinsbabe @beepbeeprichiellc @stellarbisexual @oldguybones @stanleuyris @eduardoandale @purplepoisonedgem @reddie-to-cryy @pink-psychic @violetreddie @toziesque @queen-sock @appojoos @moonlightrichie @rreddies @disneyfan567 @annxmatron @lifesucksheres20bucks @anellope @roobarrtrashmouth @are-you-reddie-for-it @callmechee @nancynwheeler @reddieforlove @twoidiotsinl0ve @madi-artist @tozierking @s-onora @atownofeggs @wilding-throught-thehallways @no-she-wasnt-reddie @dadbodrichie @thorn-harvester-ven @eddiekasbpark @sparklingrainbowdragon @ransonelovebot @gloire-celeste @derrylosers @3tothe1

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #festive prompts #writing tag

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lady-of-all-cards · 4 years

Text

Ikemen Revolution: Alternate Ending (Edgar Bright)

One-Shot Statictis: Pages: 4 Word Count: 1593 Characters: 8869 Characters (without spaces): 7319

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution Characters: Lancelot Kingsley, Edgar Bright, Claudius Bright, Alice the Second. Pairings: Edgar Bright/Main Character Summary: This was the last step of the journey- the last trial seperating the Crimson Jack and his freedom. Facing his own tainted blood in equal skill, only one Bright would be walking away from the Garden with his life...

Notes: SPOILERS!This is an alternate universe ending based on Edgar’s main route. If you don’t want the main points of Edgar’s route being spoiled, don’t read this. I highly recommend downloading the game if you already haven’t and experiencing Edgar’s route for yourself, because it’s my all-time favourite route and I don’t think Edgar gets a lot of credit and appriciation anymore.

A month since she last stepped foot in the rooftop Garden, she found herself surrounded by the blooming roses and the fresh, green scent once again. The Jack led them to the back, where the hole to London was now closed.

“King Lancelot, Alice. Please remain here.” He spoke, letting his hand fall from his beloved Alice’s. “I will wait for my uncle to arrive in the tea party area. He will not make it past me.” He said, voice full of conviction.

“Fine. Alice and I will watch from back here. Okay, Alice?” Lancelot’s stoic voice held a warning for her not to run off to Edgar’s aid, no matter what.

“I understand.” She said, nodding her head, but her heart still felt heavy. Edgar said he was prepared for this, but he was still going to have to fight the man who raised him. “Edgar, there’s something I need to apologize to you for.”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry that, because of me, you’ve had to give up your uncle.” She muttered, looking down at her shoes.

“What are you talking about?” He furrowed his eyebrows, truly confused about what she was saying.

“I think he’s a truly frightening man and his evil schemes need to be stopped. But he is still your family, Edgar.”

“You truly are kind.” Edgar breathed, smiling gently, but genuinely. He reached out to carefully stroke her hair. “I learned something important from you. That kindness allows you to feel the pain of others. If my uncle or I deceive someone, that person ends up hurt. Like you were. If my uncle or I kill someone, that person’s loved ones are plunged into despair. That’s how I felt when Amon’s plot took you from me. I’ve begun to feel the pain other people feel, ever since falling in love with you. That is why I have to stop my uncle.” Lancelot placed a hand on Alice’s shoulder as Edgar finished speaking.

“Alice, I don’t pretend to understand what love feels like. But if you do, then you shouldn’t apologise. You should be proud. And you should watch with your eyes wide open as Edgar proves his resolve”

“Yes, you’re right.” She nodded, looking up at the King of Hearts for a moment before looking back at Edgar, gazing into his eyes. Their jade-green glow didn’t even a sliver of doubt.

“I won’t close my eyes.”

“Thank you for everything, Alice.” She would have said something, anything, but Lancelot’s voice cut through her thoughts as his hand fell from her shoulder.

“He’s here.” She hadn’t heard any footsteps, but when she turned toward the tea party area, she saw a shadowy figure arrive.

“This is it. Alice and King Lancelot, I’ll see you soon.” Turning his back to them, Edgar strode off soundlessly

With Alice and King Lancelot safely behind him, Edgar stepped into the tea party area. The white, well-starched tablecloth covering the long table seemed to glow faintly in the darkness, and on the other side of it, stood the man he had to defeat.

“Hello, Edgar. The moon is beautiful tonight, don’t you think?” He greeted, running a thumb over the pommel of his walking cane.

“Yes, it is, Uncle.” On opposite ends of the luxurious tea table, the uncle and nephew faced off. They were both smiling as if they were having a pleasant family chat.

“Look, the moonlight is so crisp and clear. It’s a perfect night for betrayal. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“No, Uncle.” Edgar said shortly. “I think it’s a perfect night to confess my feelings to the one I love.”

“What’s this? It’s rare for our opinions to differ.”

“Indeed. But I’m confident that we will never share the same opinion again.” With that, Edgar leapt straight into the air, and with a soft tap, his boots landed on the table between two dishes. In the next instant, his sword was in his hand and he was charging toward Claudius.

“I didn’t raise you to be such a rude boy, Edgar. Looks like you need some more discipline.” Using a chair like a step, Claudius climbed gracefully onto the table, and with a flick of his walking stick, he blocked Edgar’s attack. “Have a seat.”

“I decline.” The sword and stick parted and then clashed again just as swiftly, the fierce exchange sending sparks flying as their feet danced to the clattering of tableware. Step by step, Edgar forced Claudius back toward the edge of the table.

“Haha, how surprising! You’ve improved so much-- it’s impressive!”

“All thanks to you.” Just then, Edgar’s blade stabbed Claudius’s thigh. Set off balance, he sank down.

“Why, that was a dirty move!”

“I learned from the best.”

“No need to get defensive. That was a compliment.” Cruelty glittered in eyes that were the same colour as his nephew’s, and, still crouching, Claudius delivered a sweeping kick to Edgar’s ankles.

“Whoa--” When the kick landed, Edgar’s sword-hand loosened slightly. In the moment it took for him to regain his grip, Claudius aimed another powerful kick at his midsection. “Oof--” Edgar grunted as his uncle’s heel smashed right into the center of his stomach. Without missing a beat, Claudius’s walking stick spun through the air, knocking Edgar’s sword from his hand. “Agh--”

“And that’s checkmate.” The tip of the walking stick was at Edgar’s throat. The hidden cap on the stick had been removed, revealing a sharp blade that glittered in the moonlight.”

“I’ve never seen you use your hidden blade before.” Edgar commented, swallowing thickly.

“This will be the first and last time you see it, Edgar.” His voice was low and strangely mournful. “It pains me to do this. Having to eliminate my own flesh and blood.” He slowly pushed the bladed cane across Edgar’s throat. As it moved, small drops of red trickled down his skin.

“Damn you--” Edgar hissed.

“Farewell, my child.” And with that, Claudius plunged the shape blade into Edgar’s stomach, watching as a choked gasp forced itself from Edgar’s throat. The air he breathed out was mixed with blood, which now spilled from the corner of his mouth to his ear. His hand grasped at the junction between the cane and his body, but he couldn’t pry it from him with his waning strength.

Claudius watched his nephew struggle, his gaze never leaving Edgar’s jaden eyes. He let his guard down, true pain showing on his face as a tear dropped from it’s duct onto Edgar’s pale cheek. That was his last mistake...

Edgar’s other hand scrambled for anything- his sword, a stick, anything! His long fingers tightened around a spoon, which he gripped tightly. His other hand crawled up the stick, coming to rest over his Uncle’s hand at the top, and, despite the weapon that was driven through his body, pulled himself up with his remaining strength to shove the spoon deep into his uncle’s throat, before kicking him in the throat, sending him falling back off the table.

Without the support of his uncle, Edgar fell back down the weapon, gasping in pain as tears slipped from his eyes. The blade was now firmly stuck in the table, and there was no hope of pulling it from him now.

“Edgar!” The cry of his beloved broke him, and he tried to pull the blade from him again, however, it was ripped from him as the strong arms of his king brought him down from the table, setting him in his lap and holding a hand to the gaping hole.

On his other side, he felt her touch- stroking his hair back from his eyes, holding his hand... he leaned into her touch, but leaned also into the hold of his King. He gripped her hand, while his other layover Lancelot’s. He felt his own body rise and fall with his gasping breaths, he felt his eyes drooping, until he felt and saw no more...

The company of eight officers were gathered outside the Civic Center with the record keeper and their old professor. After hearing what was transpiring, Dean and Blanc had arrived just after dawn, just in time to see Claudius being whisked away to the Red Army Headquarters, but then half an hour passed, then another half, and a third half, and there had been no sign of Lancelot, Alice or Edgar.

There was tension in the air. Jonah had started pacing in front of the steps long ago, arms folded across his chest. Luka forbade him interrupting whatever was going on in the Garden, knowing all too well the pain of losing family, even though that family was still alive and breathing, just an enemy of his heart...

But it had not been Edgar’s heart that had been yearning, and it was clear when Alice sped-walked out. She sought safety in Zero’s arms, slamming into him and sobbing into his chest. The Ace held her closely, looking at the other officers in question, but they all knew.

The doors opened again, magically by the power of the king. Luka stood up from his seat on the steps, his lip quivering as he stumbled back...

Edgar was curled in the arms of the King, limp and lifeless. Crimson stained his uniform, a few drops falling from his hand that once so fearlessly weiled his saber. His feet, once sure, strong and straight, swayed gently in the movements of the King...

Luka backed a few steps more, and bumped into Jonah. For the first time in seven years, he sought the warmth of his brother’s embrace...

#lancelot kingsley #edgar bright #claudius bright #alice the second

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