#but i spend lot of time for flowers with a more nuanced meanings and all

[heycarrots]

There’s been a lot of discourse about the nature of James and Miranda’s relationship. There’s even been a lot of discussion on my podcast about it. One thing I want to make clear is that my podcast is a platform for discussion on all points of view. I’m not going to agree, 100%, with everything that’s said, but it makes the views of my guests no less valid. There’s no right or wrong, here, because this is art and therefore, it is subject to interpretation.

My intent, however, is to attempt to get as close to the original intent of the actors as possible because we look at a show or a film or a play as going through several layers of distillation. Each level purifies the intended narrative leaving its truest essence.

When we make a reduction sauce using an alcohol of some kind, let’s say a red wine, the heat applied to it burns off things we don’t need for flavor. You’re never going to get drunk off of red wine reduction because there’s almost no alcohol left in it. That all gets burned off, leaving only the flavor components, which is what we wanted all along, anyway. We want that extra element that enriches the flavor of the steak, by adding nuance.

So let’s take apart that meal.

We start with the birth of the idea. The story kicks around in an author’s head, trying to get out, growing bigger and more persistent until it outgrows the confines of the mental box inspiration is stored in and has to be let out. That idea, that’s the cow.

The author raises that idea, feeds it, watches it grow, and then, ultimately slaughters it. That sounds awful, but once you have that idea pulsing, growing, evolving and then finally commit the final draft on paper, it is a kind of death. The life of the story comes to an end and it becomes memorialized in a mausoleum. Readers will come to visit, spend time with it, lay down flowers, cherish it, and mourn its passing.

The next level is adaptation. That’s the steak. There are many ways you can slice the story, large roasts encompassing the whole story or a smaller, hyper-focused character study fillet mignon.

A writers room gets hold of the cow and carves it up. They choose what gets cooked and what gets tossed. A GREAT group of writers saves the bones. They take in the entire supporting structure of the piece and while the whole story may not make it onto the screen, they will have slow roasted the bones for a stock. When you watch a show like Black Sails, where themes are introduced that won’t fully be explained or explored until several seasons later, that’s what that is. It is the stock being used to flavor the whole dish. You’ve distilled the entire cow to its purest essence and so every scene, every line of dialogue, every acting choice, encompasses the entirety of the story. A line from episode one is defined by knowledge of the finale and in regard to dialogue, defined by an actors’ knowledge of a character’s backstory. There are many writers rooms who are creating the bones of the story as they go, which means they aren’t starting with a rich stock. You can’t trace back character motivations or choices to begin with because those motivations changed throughout production.

Black Sails, again, isn’t one of those shows. Steinberg and Levine came into the writers room with their stock pot full and sloshing, spilling story everywhere. The richness of the details they were laying can make season one a bit hard to consume unless you are ready for a story on that level. Viewers need to come to the table with some bread to sop up all those character details because we WILL need them later.

Over the course of finalizing scripts and blocking out episodes, the steak is cooked. Like any great steak, this story is medium rare. More juice comes out with every bite. It’s what makes the show infinitely rewatchable. It continues to cook on the plate, but because it wasn’t overdone, it never dries out.

When the actors get ahold of it, that’s the reduction sauce we were talking about. That sauce provides nuance and flavor. That’s the emotion. A line of dialogue on a page is just ink. It’s nothing until it’s spoken aloud. And like any bit of language in this world, it’s subject to interpretation. In this case, it’s the actor who does the interpreting.

I spoke on the podcast about the art of subtext and how huge a role it plays in Black Sails. One example we used is Jane Eyre. It’s one of the most frequently adapted novels in the English language and with each adaptation, we get a new version of our characters. The most volatile and subject to change is Rochester. There are MANY versions of Rochester that I find appalling (including the original beast in the book), but each actor has formed him into something else, based on their performance. Toby Stephens takes Rochester and turns him into a silly tragic romantic, broken many times over by a society he never really fits into, despite the status of his birth. He connects with Ruth Wilson’s Jane because she fully and happily inhabits that space on the fringes that Rochester thinks he needs to climb out of. Jane takes his hand on the outside of the wall, turns him away from the guarded palace and shows him the wild world that was at his back this whole time.

This is what Toby Stephens, Luke Arnold, Louise Barnes, Zethu Dlomo, and really all the actors for whom their subtextual choices make them reflect like prisms, have done with their performances.

In the final distillation, character motivations and emotions are finalized by the actor. Writers can pontificate, the source material lies dead in its lovely tomb, but stories live and breathe by their storytellers.

What we’re left with is Toby’s face telling the world how deeply Flint loves Silver. Every single choice tells this story.

We’re left with Luke showing us how much Silver is repressing in his feelings for Flint. Luke’s face shows us an incredible depth of feeling and a door slamming shut.

We’re left with the incredible intimacy between James and Miranda, which speaks of a decade of shared physical intimacy. There’s an openness, a freeness to it until the moment in episode 3 when Miranda learns that James has found the Urca and is leaving soon to pursue it. She gives some of it away when she says “I thought I’d have you all to myself”. She is mourning the loss of intimacy that she only gets in short windows of time. They aren’t strained because James isn’t attracted to her, but because he’s rarely there. She has him for a few days at a time before he’s off on another hunt. The coldness starts from the moment he tells her he’s leaving in a few days because I believe she thinks he won’t be coming back, that this is the hunt he won’t survive and she’ll finally have lost both James and Thomas. From the moment Richard Guthrie darkens her door, she’s looking for a way to weaponize him and get them out. For her, it’s a race against the clock and she’s willing to sacrifice a bit of her relationship with James in the present to secure happiness for them in the future.

This is also why James still has sex with her before leaving, even though he’s furious for her reading Meditations to Richard. This is how they connect. They connected through physical intimacy in the flashbacks, as well. Him stroking her thumb in the carriage before the kiss. Tactile contact to seal their understanding of each other. Miranda bracing her hands on his chest during important moments in the Hamilton’s home, something she also does to Thomas, to show physical connection, physical intimacy. Miranda thrives on physical touch.

To think that, for 10 years, James is lying there like an object for Miranda to use, is, to me, short sighted. To think that James doesn’t love Miranda outside of a group, is also ignoring the fact that, 10 years on, James will not leave on a hunt (angry as they both are) without physically connecting with her, trying so hard to reach beyond his anger and the wound freshly opened from sight of that book he’s chosen not to look at for probably the better part of those 10 years. The way his hands hover over her back after she comes and he desperately wants to be with her in that moment, like the best of their moments, but he just can’t, speaks to the depth of his love for her.

So many fans of the show point to this sad sex scene as one of the most important character moments for James and Miranda, but I consistently come to the opposite conclusions about WHY it’s important and what we learn from it, because I’m taking my cues from the actor’s choices, not the director or the writers. On the page, in plain ink, he hates having sex with her. Toby and Louise show us, however, that they are trying to recapture a thing that is fleeting, reaching out to each other to patch up an old wound from which the scab has been picked off, leaving it seeping and raw.

From Toby’s performance, regardless of the words he uses years later to describe it, we see not a character who “loves men” or a character who “loves women”, but a character who LOVES. I don’t see Flint defining that love in terms of boxes and parameters. He’s a character who must be coaxed out, but then loves without reason, without a safety net, as he proves with his love of Silver. As was also referenced by a guest on the podcast, he places a sword in Silver’s hand and says “do it”.

Anyway, this post got away from me and took several turns, but the love between James and Miranda being dismissed by so many in the fandom has been bugging me for a while and I just needed to emotionally vomit on tumblr.

#black sails meta #cooking metaphors #my culinary degree isn’t ALWAYS useless #James Flint #Captain James Flint #James McGraw #Miranda Barlow #John Silver #flinthamilton #SilverFlint #silverflintmadi #Toby Stephens #Louise Barnes #Luke Arnold #Zethu Dlomo #Black Sails #sexuality in a historical context #the almighty subtext #acting choices were made #When the lips and the eyes are telling two different stories it’s the eyes that tell the truth #no daylight between you and I

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Francis Drake Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.

A pleasant day with a clear blue sky一

Mitsuki: "Drake, since the weather is nice, I'm thinking of washing the bed sheets. Can I come in?"

No response came from inside, even after calling out from outside the door.

(Huh? Is Drake not here? This has happened before, hasn't it?)

I opened the door, and just like before, the room was empty.

(He's not as unpredictable as Dazai, but he tends to disappear like this sometimes.)

At that moment, I could hear a flapping sound outside the open window.

Draco then flew in from the garden and perched on the chair.

Mitsuki: "Hey, Draco. Do you know where Drake went?"

Draco: "........"

Draco, who usually responds with something when spoken to, blinked his eyes without saying anything today.

And then he flew back to the garden through the window.

Sebastian: "Drake? I haven't seen him today either."

I told Sebastian about Drake's absence, and he tilted his head.

Sebastian: "He has disappeared without a trace before, right? I believe it was about half a month ago."

Theo: "So, is it the same this time?"

Theo, drinking coffee at the table, joined the conversation.

Theo: "We're not doing roll call or anything, so there's no need to worry too much."

Mitsuki: "That's true, but..."

Arthur: "Could it be that he went to meet a girl?"

Arthur, who came to the dining hall, grinned and sat in front of Theo.

Mitsuki: "Arthur, do you know where Drake might have gone?"

Arthur: "It's not like I know for sure. I just thought it was a bit suspicious last time."

Arthur: "I mean, if he's going to spend time doing something, wouldn't it be with a girl rather than drinking?"

I suddenly recalled something Drake mentioned.

------------Flashback-----------

Isaac: "Drake, you were resurrected without a contract, right? Wasn't there something you wanted to do in your previous life?"

Drake: "Hmm, if I had to think of something, it would be things like wanting to drink more alcohol, eat delicious food, or meet the woman of my destiny."

Isaac: "The woman of your destiny?"

Drake: "The most amazing woman."

---------Flashback Ends--------

(He joked about it, but he did say something like that.)

(Why do I suddenly feel uneasy?)

Whether Drake had someone like that or not, it wasn't something I should have pried into. However, as soon as I started thinking about it, my chest tightened.

Sebastian: "Mitsuki, why did you suddenly go silent? Is something wrong?"

Mitsuki: "No, it's nothing. I'll go wash the sheets now!"

Trying to mask the atmosphere and my own inner turmoil, I quickly left the dining room.

Watching Mitsuki leave, the remaining three exchanged hushed voices.

Arthur: "Is it just me, or does Mitsuki seem to be developing a subtle crush?"

Arthur: "They've been spending a lot of time together, too."

Theo: "I don't know what Drake's intentions are aside from being a bit of a troublemaker, but he's like seaweed. Hard to get a grip on."

Sebastian: "Let's not tease too much; it might affect her work. Let's just quietly watch over Mitsuki's feelings."

The men smiled, looking like Mitsuki's older brothers.

Afterward, I stopped by the Seine River while shopping, but Drake wasn't there.

When I asked the other boatmen, they said he hadn't come today, so I headed towards the main street.

Mitsuki: "Vlad. Hello."

Vlad: "Hi, Mitsuki. Are you out shopping?"

I saw Vlad handing bouquets to customers.

Mitsuki: "It smells so nice. There are so many beautiful flowers blooming today."

Vlad: "Thank you. I'm happiest when I see you enjoying them."

With his silver hair swaying, Vlad had a smile that captivated everyone.

(Right. If Drake is anywhere on the main street, he might have seen him.)

Mitsuki: "Vlad, did you happen to see Drake? He hasn't been at the mansion all day."

Vlad: "Drake? I haven't seen him."

Vlad: "If someone from the mansion had passed nearby, I would have sensed it, but I didn't feel anything."

Mitsuki: "I see. Thanks, and sorry for interrupting your work."

Vlad: "No problem. Looks like you've become quite close with him."

Mitsuki: "Yeah. I wanted to help him since he didn't know anything when he first came here. But now, he is the one helping me."

I chuckled, and Vlad gently narrowed his eyes.

Vlad: "Oh boy. I was planning to take you away to our old castle, but now you have another precious person in that mansion."

(Precious…?)

Mitsuki: "That's true. Drake is also a precious member of the mansion, just like everyone else."

Even as I said that phrase, it left me feeling unsatisfied.

(I'm acting weird.)

(Why do I react this way when it comes to Drake?)

At that moment, I struggled to calm my racing heart over something so trivial.

Watching Mitsuki walk away, Vlad muttered to himself.

Vlad: "Francis Drake. Drake, huh?"

Vlad: "I feel like I've heard that name somewhere."

The name resonated with Vlad.

While it was a common surname in Europe, he felt a more intimate familiarity with it, somewhere far back in the past that even Vlad himself had forgotten.

(It's already this late.)

I looked up and saw the moon rising in the almost night-colored sky.

(I wonder if Drake will come back tonight.)

(Well, he's free to be wherever and do whatever he wants. It's none of my business.)

(Even though it has nothing to do with me, why do I feel concerned?)

(Is it because he might set out alone somewhere in the night?)

I thought about how he might go far away, like a boat advancing on the river.

While thinking about such things, I caught sight of a familiar cloak at the edge of my vision.

(Is that Drake over there?)

Excited, I took a few steps to call out to him.

But as soon as I saw his face, I involuntarily swallowed my words.

(His expression is different from usual.)

Those eyes harbor a sharper and more beast-like aura than I had ever seen.

(I've seen him give me a cold stare in the past, but now it feels like it's even more tense.)

(It's kind of scary.)

I didn't want to think that way, but it was the first thought that came to mind.

He continued down a less crowded path, opposite the way back to the mansion, without noticing me.

(It's not good to secretly follow him, but I'm worried about his unusual behavior.)

Listing excuses in my mind, I followed Drake.

After entering a dimly lit alley, I heard a deep male voice coming from the direction he went.

Man 1: "Hey, buddy, did you just bump into me?"

Drake: "Ha?"

When I peeked around the corner, Drake was surrounded by several strong-looking men.

They were complaining to him, saying he had bumped into them as they passed each other.

(They're just picking a fight for no reason.)

Despite his strength, their number made me uneasy.

(What should I do? I need to call for help.)

Man 1: "Hey, where's your apology? Say something, bro."

Man 2: "Or did you get scared? Hahaha!"

Drake: ".........."

(Drake...?)

Contrary to the aggressive men surrounding him, Drake remained expressionless.

(He would usually have a confident grin in a situation like this.)

(But now he's strangely quiet, and somehow...)

A shiver ran down my spine.

Drake: "Hey, it's a full moon tonight."

Drake: "So, don't provoke me too much. I might let you go this time."

Man 1: "Ha? Who the fuck do you think you are!?"

(Drake!)

The provoked man raised his fist and punched him on the cheek.

I froze in fear, unable to utter a word.

Stumbling a few steps, Drake licked the blood trickling from the corner of his lips and flashed a menacing smile.

Drake: "I told you not to provoke me."

Man 1: "What the—ugghh!"

In the next moment, he head-butted the man in front of him, and as the opponent recoiled, Drake delivered a punch to his torso.

Man 2: "You arrogant bastard!"

As the leader groaned and fell backward, the other men rushed at him.

Despite being restrained from behind, Drake kicked one of the attackers, then grabbed the arm of the man behind him, throwing him to the ground.

One by one, he overpowered the men attacking him.

Man 2: "Demon...!"

Someone exclaimed at Drake's overwhelming strength.

(He's so strong, but...)

Drake: “Haa...haa...”

He stepped on the fallen man’s head next to him, exhaling a beastly breath.

Then he looked down at the screaming man and drew his knife from his waist.

(That’s enough!)

The other men hurriedly fled, and the fallen man, his face drained of color, looked up at him.

Man 1: “Sorry! Please, stop!”

Drake: “.........”

He glanced at the knife in his hand and tightly gripped his own wrist with his other hand.

Slowly, he sheathed the knife.

Drake: “Guh...ah...”

Suddenly, he clutched his throat in pain and staggered away.

I stood there, dumbfounded.

(He's not acting himself.)

(He's like a beast that has lost its reason.)

I didn’t know what happened to him.

Alarm bells rang in my head, and my hands had been shaking since earlier.

(Drake is dangerous right now, but...)

(I can’t just leave him in that state.)

Motivated by that thought alone, I urged my trembling legs forward and followed him into the alley.

Navigating through the narrow pathways, I eventually arrived at the place where he had gone.

(I think he went in here.)

The place he entered was a building located in a secluded area.

Although I hesitated to enter without permission, my concern overcame my hesitation, and I stepped inside.

(Whoa…)

The first thing that caught my eye was the twinkling stars overhead.

The room, complete with furniture and bookshelves, was like a planetarium with its round dome.

(What is this place? And why is he here?)

Drake: “Ugh... haa...”

I heard his painful sigh and quickly shifted my gaze to where he was leaning against the window.

Mitsuki: “Drake, are you okay!?”

Drake: “Mitsuki!?”

Drake: “Why are you here?”

Mitsuki: “I saw you in town and noticed something was off, so I followed you.”

Mitsuki: “Are you in pain? Hold on to me. I’ll support you.”

Drake: “Don’t come any closer!!”

He forcefully rejected me, and his body jerked.

Drake: “Of all days, why now?”

Drake: “Get out of my face, Mitsuki.”

(.........)

The words he said pierced my chest like a knife, but...

Mitsuki: "I can't just leave you like this!"

Drake: "You always..."

Drake: "Damn it, I can't stand it anymore."

Drake: "This is all your fault, so don't run away."

(Huh?)

My mind went blank.

I couldn't comprehend what was happening as a sharp pain ran through my neck.

But in the next moment...

(What is this...?)

An irresistible sense of pleasure spread from the place where he buried his face.

It infiltrated my entire body, spreading through my skin and penetrating deep inside.

Drake: "The taste of your blood is driving me crazy."

Drake: "I want more. I can't stop."

Feeling his animalistic breath, akin to devouring small prey, I finally realized:

(I'm...)

I'm being bitten by Drake.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp drake #francis drake #ikevamp jp #cybird #ikevamp translations #ikevamp francis

[twistmusings]

May i request "how do they act around their crush" for the dorms heartslabyul and savanaclaw please?

How would Heartslabyul and Savanaclaw act around their crush?

CW: None

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

Crushes hit Riddle super, super hard and they always surprise them when they happen. It's pretty rare for him to catch feelings, but when it does, he's never prepared for it. He just notices how badly his heart starts racing and that he's staring at them and that's when it click that he has feelings for them.

He tries to keep it low-key that he does have feelings for them to see if the crush is something that will peter out or not, but most of his friends and the other members of Heartslabyul catch on pretty quickly. For one thing, they don't often see Riddle lose his focus like that, so when that happens it really narrows it down to a handful of things that could cause it.

He will find his own ways to get closer to them. Asking them if they would like him to help them study for tests or if they need any tutoring would be a big one. He knows that he's intelligent and if he can leverage that to spend a little more time with them, then he will.

If asked, Riddle won't deny that he has feelings for them, but he will try to deflect. After all, it's still too new for him to know entirely how he feels and he doesn't want to be uncertain about how he feels when and if he decides to persue them.

He may try to flirt with them, though he is not all that good at flirting. Courting might be a better word for it: he will bring them flowers and small gifts whenever he can, and he is exceptionally chivalrous to them.

He probably ends up kissing them on impulse before he feels entirely ready to ask them out and nearly losing his damn mind over it because that wasn't what he planned.

Ace Trappola

Ace is a disaster with a crush. Being the only person among the others in the first year who has had any dating experience, he's nervous because of that. He knows that he didn't handle his first relationship with any sort of grace or nuance, and he's really afraid of finding himself going down the same path again.

He vehemently denies having a crush to the people around him and it doesn't work in the slightest. They know. They can all tell how he feels because he wears it on his sleeve and keeps giving them puppy eyes whenever they're not paying attention to him.

He basically goes through the five stages of grief for a crush. Particularly denial and depression, but he literally does go through all five stages at one point or another.

He self-sabotages terribly. He wants to have things work out but he also will intentionally do things to make his own life harder. He has some pretty high standards, too, and when he can't meet them he ends up super frustrated at himself and moody.

He sort of distances from his crush, and will give them excuses that don't make a whole lot of sense whenever he gets a bur up his ass. A crush really makes him a flaky friend.

Deuce Spade

Deuce both realizes and doesn't realize he has a crush. How can he possibly do that, you may be asking? Well, obviously he just assumes that he's very, very attracted to their personality platonically. He thinks that they're on the path to be super best friends. He gets so excited to see them and he thinks their smile is the best thing on the planet, so it's hard not to see them differently from everyone else. So, when he has the realization that he does have a crush, it hits him like a train.

He is teased about it by Ace approximately eight thousand times on the average day.

After he realizes he has a crush, he has such trouble talking to them. He still tries, but he trips over his words and freezes up when they ask him a question sometimes. He tries really hard not to be obvious about it, but it's a pretty stark change.

He's not possessive by any means, but he is protective. He cares so much about them that he's physically incapable of keeping is mouth shut if he hears someone shit-talking them and can't keep his hands to himself if he sees someone trying to intimidate them either.

He sort of takes a page from Riddle's book and will bring them gifts. Maybe not bouquets, but small things like a cool acorn or flower he spots on the way to class or something he brewed up in potionology that he feels like will be something they will find cool or helpful.

It takes him a long, long while to work up the nerve to ask them out.

Trey Clover

Crushes are very, very slow-burn for Trey. He recognizes the signs and definitely has a few moments of "I hope this doesn't awaken anything in me." leading up to him actually, finally admitting to himself that he has caught feelings.

Trey is a carer-- he wants to take care of the people he cares about, so he starts doting on them a little more than he has in the past. Makes sure they are eating and encouraging them to do things that will help make them feel good.

Of everyone, Trey is probably the one most likely to be able to successfully keep a crush under wraps. I think the only person who would probably clock him on it would be Chenya. Even Riddle would probably have a hard time tuning into the fact that he's acting differently around them.

He won't take long to ask them on a date, though it probably blindsides them because he really has no clue how to flirt.

Cater Diamond

Cater is very, very open with his interests. If he has a crush, there's probably rumors within the hour that they're going to get together because Cater can't keep his mouth shut and no one else at NRC can mind their own business to save their lives.

He is flirty. His lines don't always land-- in fact they're pretty cheesy most of the time-- but he definitely will keep pushing the bounds of what is considered friendship and what is considered romantic.

They will be starring in his Magicam feed a lot. Pictures with him, pictures of just them enjoying food or a drink, and pictures of them framed by pretty landscapes. They're always tagged with things referring to them as a best friend or generally complimentary.

On the same page, he will go out of his way to spend more time with them. Planning little "dates" which are tiny day trips or food tours or whatever else is new and he wants to try. He likes to take them along with him when he goes to experiment with the new trends.

He will ask them out, but wants to save it for an important occasion. Maybe Valentine's day or a dance or party. Regardless, he wants it to be memorable when he asks them out.

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

He is noticably softer towards them than he is toward others. He isn't nearly so prickly, and he doesn't even realize he's doing it.

Leona is a bit older than the other students, so he's used to getting crushes at this point. However, he's never really had the time or energy to give them a shot until now, so his experience with dating really ends there.

He is used to people showing interest in him, not the other way around. After all, even being a second born prince is still a prince. What he likes the most about them is that they don't treat him differently due to his position, and since they don't he's still going to treat them more or less the same as he always has. He doesn't want them to feel like he's infantilizing them. They don't need taken care of unless they ask for it-- they're independent and self-reliant and Leona would be a fool to take that away from them.

He definitely hits on them. Playfully flirt-fighting mostly, but from time to time he will pull out something genuinely smooth to use on them. He always loves when he sees his flirting land and seeing their reaction.

Leona will ask them out, but probably at the worst possible moment. Either a) when he's in an emotional rut and is grouchy and wants to lash out at people or b) when they two of them are in some kind of peril and don't have time to talk about any of it.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie knows he has a crush pretty early on. He's not used to feeling taken care of an admired and that was novel. He realizes quickly how much he likes to be around them and how comfortable he feels with them and he's like "Oh, I guess this is just how it feels to realize you're kind of in love with someone."

He flirts a little bit, but it's rare enough and subtle enough that they probably don't notice about 70% of the time, and the other 30% of the time it's unclear if he was flirting or if his choice of words just made it seem that way.

Ruggie will do things for them that he would never do for anyone else. At least, not without being under duress or being obligated to by a job contract. Cooking them home-cooked meals is usually the most notable one. He is a pretty great cook when he puts his mind to it!

He probably won't ask them out, at least not while they're in school. He's a little too reserved and cautious to do all of that. But, if he's close to graduating and realizes it's now or never, he will do it now. He wouldn't want to let them slip through his fingers. He's not the sort of person who misses out on opportunities when they arise.

Jack Howl

Jack is not the sort of person who wears his feelings on his sleeve. It's hard to even know if he has a crush on someone even if he is inwardly having a minor panic over it. Usually the quickest way to tell how he's feeling would be to look at his tail, as that's the part of him that's hardest for him to mask as indifferent.

Jack is exceedingly slow to realize and come to terms with his feelings. He likes them, but before he can comprehend anything beyond that he has to figure out precisely how much he likes them. It's about the time that he starts asking himself if he would like to kiss them that he realizes "Oh, shoot, that's a crush."

Jack is not a flirt. In fact, he tends to backpedal if he does flirt, so instead he will simply... ask them to spend time with him and if they would like to do things with him throughout his day. Even if it's just running errands together or something-- he treasures every moment he gets to spend with them, no matter how small.

Jack is another one who will absolutely refuse to admit he has a crush to anyone else. Actually, they could probably be married for upwards of five years and have a child on the way and he would still be too shy and stubborn to admit he has a crush.

Jack will ask them out after a lot of careful deliberation and planning. After all, wolves are monogamous, so he wants to be very, very sure that this is what he wants before he acts on it.

#answered;; #twisted wonderland #twst #riddle rosehearts #ace trappola #deuce spade #trey clover #cater diamond #leona kingscholar #jack howl #ruggie bucchi #romance #fluff

[kar-krashew]

Pls tell about your malec AUs

omg what a completely unprompted ask <3 /j (ty for asking ily)

Cars au pt 3: of my many malec aus, the most out of pocket one was obviously the cars au, which had a 3rd installment that i never published! this entire fic was meant to be magnus and alec going through a bunch of domestic bs while magnus absolutely accosted alec with cars based innuendo. this was to replace the original 3rd installment of the cars au, which was meant to be a very long winded cars 2 au that i do drop hints towards in the 2nd cars au (hence, the "import-export business" line by izzy, it's a line i took from finn mcmissile) there was a lot of research (watching cars 2 multiple times) that went into that one but i didnt like it after a while for personal reasons and also it would end up canonizing sizzy which i wasnt vibing with entirely. if i ever finished it it would have been the proposal scene, instead of simon (mater) “messing up” Alec’s (mcqueen’s) big race it would be the big race + proposal attempts, and the final proposal would happen in the clock tower scene where instead of just the spy trio, malec would be there too but the plot got contrived pretty fast sjfjfk so I scrapped it. However, the car innuendo fic would instead be the “I love you” fic, because love confessions always pair well with crack! That’s my life motto.

Part of the WIP below:

Alec’s brushing his teeth one morning when it starts: Magnus seats himself on the counter, leans in seductively, whispers, “Is that a gearstick in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” and Alec spends the next two minutes choking on his toothpaste.

“What,” he coughs, “What the hell–”

Magnus simply bites his lip and winks. “How about the full service, darling?” He takes advantage of Alec’s respite from coughing to shrug his robe off of one shoulder, highlighting the fading marks there. “I could even throw in a free lube job.”

“Oh my god,” Alec says. He’s not sure what it means about himself, but whatever Magnus is doing is definitely working.

“What do you say, Alexander?” Magnus scoots even closer to the edge of the counter, trapping Alec’s hips between his calves, who shifts willingly. “Would you like to inspect my rear bumper?”

“Oh my god.” How are these only getting worse? “If I come back to the bedroom, will you stop?”

“Hm,” Magnus hums. He loops his arms around Alec’s neck. “I suppose I could be convinced with a ride.”

Alec groans. “For the record, this is the worst way you’ve tried to initiate sex.”

“Perhaps, but you can’t say it was unsuccessful. After all, you seem well on your way to plugging my tailpipe.”

Alec has to kiss him before he can say anything worse.

flower shop au: THIS ONE WAS SO ELITE. honestly still considering writing this one out, I ran this by (aka memed about) @\peachygos a few times too because that is how most of my aus start and it was my take on the stained biker x flowershop employee ! It’s flowershop!alec and biker!magnus but more nuanced than that, obviously, as I am a strong advocator for Alec getting in his Slutty era aka being the. (For lack of better term) h*rnier out of the two because I believe in flowershop au equality. Magnus would obviously be himself but by god Alec is soo horny like. canonically and I would simply be making him in character aka incredibly gay for Magnus and, since he won’t be like in an InstitutionThatHatesTheGaysTM he will simply be so gay the whole time. Biker Magnus who is like I would like some flowers haha hi Vs flower guy Alec who is like heart eyes sultry eyes the whole time. This got incoherent and I am very sorry about that but yes !

MegaMind au: once again incredibly unnecessary and stupid <3 i will not elaborate on this but I DID manage to make it a lot gayer and serious than you’d think

#ty for sending me this ask and sorry for just lambasting u with this info #<3 #more coming soon shdjgj I have SO many wips and aus. you cannot imagine. #my writing #ty rainyhuman for picking some to talk ab ily #malec

[j-graysonlibrary]

The Xiang Chronicles: Book Two Chapter 6

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Two

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 98k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: With another Xiang in the mix, for the first time in history, Pangu decides to reevaluate his methods and his place in the world. Along with taking his little sister Heidi as his last disciple, he also chooses to take the more political path in his efforts to end the discord throughout the land—particularly within Terra. (And gaining favor from the handsome Lord of Ultimos does not hurt.)

Heidi butts heads with everyone in the group, save Raine, and tensions are higher than ever. There are failed love confessions, in-group fighting, and demons from Kira’s past but that all comes to a head when they meet a servant of Shakti who is more than what she seems.

Could it be that the Mistresses of Shadow are more nuanced than previously believed? Or that the strict dichotomy between light and dark are, perhaps, a touch exaggerated? That and more begin to plague Pangu’s mind and his faith wavers…

Full chapter 6 under the cut

Chapter VI:

After spending the night and taking far too long to get ready the following morning, the Xiang’s group stood outside in the field, saying goodbyes. It was already nearly noon, far later than Pangu had intended to leave but he did find it difficult to cut any conversation short when he did not know when the next time Baiya would be able to see his family would be.

Feiman clung to his brother almost as badly as Daiji did but Jaimas was in front of Kira, holding a flower up to him. The Terran disciple glanced down with a raised brow, curious as to why she was with him rather than her brother.

He took the flower and offered a brief smile. “Thanks?”

“It’s Lormas,” she said, “An herb to help you sleep better.”

Kira looked at the flower in a new light. He had heard of herbs that helped with sleep but he had never heard this particular name. “Oh?”

Jaimas nodded enthusiastically. “I saw that you have dark eye circles and mom says that means you are not getting enough sleep. So you should take this and rest more.”

Her delivery was a bit brutal in its honesty but Kira could feel the sincerity behind her intent. He had barely spent any time talking to her during any of their other visits and yet she showed him this level of consideration.

“Well…thank you. I will try it tonight.”

The girl grinned. “You can eat the bud raw or crush it up and steep it in some tea. It is sweeter raw though so that’s how I do it.”

Kira arched one of his eyebrows. “You have it sometimes?”

“Yeah.” Jaimas fidgeted with her hands and looked down at her feet. “After all those scary men came, I had a hard time sleeping. Mom said I was getting dark circles too so she gave me Lormas.”

A lot more clicked into place and Kira nearly winced at the stabbing feeling happening inside of his chest. Jaimas had not just noticed his dark circles and put two and two together, she had also seen, in him, a reflection of herself from a few months ago. Maybe she even thought he was struggling with something similar.

“Has it gotten better?” Kira decided to ask after swallowing down the lump in his throat.

“Um…I still have nightmares sometimes but not so many.” She smiled. “I think you need the Lormas more than me.”

Kira really wondered how the girl came from the same family as Baiya. Honestly, he thought much the same about the rest of the man’s family as well. All of them were kind and nurturing yet they had somehow raised him. Then again, Kira was not one to buy into the idea that apples did not fall far from their trees as that would end up painting him with terrible colors as well.

Baiya finished his goodbyes and they were back on the road again, only continuing with their detour slightly. He had the supplies strapped onto his horse and, while it was not much, it did weigh him down so he ended up splitting the bags up between all of their horses.

The sun started to kiss the horizon when they trailed into the town and many of the shops were bound to close soon so they hurried to their destination.

Baiya rushed to the building and caught the clerk just before he could close the shutters. “I have the grain delivery from Daiji’s farm.”

That was enough to stop the clerk who then leaned out from the window and eyed the small entourage. “It’s earlier than we expected. After that storm, we figured it would be another few days.”

“Well, we rushed.”

Each of them took their respective bags from their horses and began to pass it over, ending with Baiya who handed each to the clerk. At the end, the young man behind the window scrawled over a long sheet of paper, recording all of the inventory properly.

“There we are. Six bags of grain, as due, no late fee or tax given the delay due to nature…” he grumbled a little under his breath, “and we are all set.”

“Great.” Baiya smiled and turned toward the others. An orange glow fell over the town as the sun dipped even further behind the distant mountains. “Should we ride out to a camp site?”

“We do have a few hours left before we really need to stop,” Raine seconded the motion.

“Ah, yes, who doesn’t love sleeping on the ground with rocks in their back,” Heidi muttered but also seemed to already be accepting of the outcome. Certainly, she had spent many nights out in the wilds on her way to Ultimos by herself.

Pangu readied himself to agree that, yes, they did need to be on their way so they could return to Viren posthaste but he only got as far as opening his mouth.

“Baiya?” A strange voice called out and Baiya turned first while the others just followed with their eyes. A figure approached them—a man dressed in light armor with a curved sword on his hip. By the looks of him, he was a guard of some sort though he forwent any headgear and, instead, wore a wrap around his temples which allowed his tall, curly hair to poke out the top. “I thought that was you…”

“Crom.” Baiya said his name in a friendly yet short manner. Pangu and Kira, both, noted how his adams apple bobbed when he spoke.

As he walked closer, Crom’s smile was more evident. His eyes squinted as he grinned and he placed a hand on Baiya’s arm, giving a slight squeeze before letting go. “How have you been? It has been a while since I’ve seen you.”

They definitely were familiar with one another and while Baiya did not seem as elated as Crom was, everyone could come to the conclusion that they were on, at least, a friendly basis. Raine was curious as to why the third disciple seemed so nervous and he began to wonder if this guard, of all people, was someone Baiya had worked with in some underhanded capacity.

But Raine was the only one thinking in that direction. Pangu and Kira—even Heidi as well—could tell there was much more just based on Baiya’s body language. Heidi did not known the man very well but she had seen many of the men she worked with be caught up in affairs. Some of their one-night-only ladies had even come to visit them at work and the nervous, almost skittish nature they exhibited was not too far removed from what she was seeing now.

Kira could tell immediately what the situation was. Not only based on Baiya’s reaction but Crom’s face as well. The smile the man shot his way was laced with memory and excitement. Kira immediately looked to Pangu to see how he was handling the news, if he was even grasping the subtleties at all.

He definitely was. Pangu might not have if he and Baiya had not discussed the topic before, back in Phaos, but he would have felt that something was off. Now that he had the information that Baiya liked men and that past relationships had been alluded to, it was simple to piece things together. The downside to that, however, was that Pangu could, quite vividly, imagine what that night might have looked like between the two.

His heart constricted and he watched the scene with a tightening jaw.

“Well I have been quite busy these past few months,” Baiya said before gesturing back to Pangu, “This is the Xiang…I was asked to be his disciple.”

Crom’s smile completely disappeared to make room for shock. “You are joking?” He looked more at Pangu than at Baiya.

“Not at all,” Kira answered for Pangu which he was more than grateful for. “This is the Xiang.”

In a swift motion, Crom curled his hand into a fist, pounded it against his own chest, and then bowed. “Greetings, Xiang.” He straightened his posture and his smile returned. “I hope Agni has not been too inhospitable to you. Most of us are not…”

“Religious,” Raine finished when the guard trailed off. “We are aware. And we have managed.”

“Good. I am, um, not especially faith focused myself but…” Crom glanced back toward Baiya. “Him even less so. I am honestly surprised he is a part of your group. I almost want to think this is some sort of prank.”

“If it is, it’s a long prank,” Kira said, almost in a grumble.

Baiya ignored him and only responded to Crom. “Is it so unbelievable?”

He was answered, at first, with a big laugh. “Are you kidding? You were the one that taught me about the history of the Xiang stealing Agni territory and waging over half of their wars on our soil.” Crom briefly touched Baiya’s arm and then addressed the rest of the group when he said, “He used to tell the others in our squad that did worship Tiandi that they should reconsider since the god clearly hated them.”

“Crom…” Baiya pinched the bridge of his nose.

Heidi snickered. “Oh? You are not just a non-believer but an active antagonist?”

“I was aware when I picked him,” Pangu said, quiet. Everyone still heard him, however, and glanced over. He could not look his Agni disciple in the eye nor could he look at Crom for too long. “Baiya is strong, has a high resonance, and is able to separate me as Xiang from the Xiangs of the past. That is all I care about.”

“He has been invaluable in leading us around Agni as well,” Raine tacked on, offering a short, terse smile.

“It is still so bizarre.” Crom slowly shook his head back and forth and then gave Baiya another once over, as if having to assess him all over again. “Well, I had hoped, when I saw you, that we could…hang out, like old times. I will not take you from your duties, however, since you are busy busy now.”

“Actually,” Pangu spoke before he could even finish thinking. His eyebrows rose in slight surprise at himself as he continued. “It is getting a bit late. We can stay here at the inn for tonight and then just ride a little harder tomorrow to make up for lost time.”

“Pangu…” Baiya tried looking at him but the Xiang would still not make eye contact. “You sure?”

“I am pretty tired,” he answered, staring at one of the storefronts in the distance instead of any of them.

Crom was the only one who did not, immediately, pick up on the mood shift. He kept a big grin on his face and bowed again, more loosely this time. “Thank you, Xiang. I will not keep him up too late.”

Pangu finally made eye contact but with Crom, not Baiya. “Have fun,” he nearly whispered the words and forced a smile as the man looped his arm with the Agni disciple, getting comfortable.

Heidi hung back as they left Baiya behind and walked to the inn across the barren street. The entire town was really only a series of storefronts on opposite sides of a dirt road so there was not much privacy afforded to Baiya and Crom. More than anything, however, Heidi was surprised that Pangu even let them stay alone together. Given how her brother looked at the couple, she expected him to jealously claim his disciple as his own, at least on some professional or duty bound level.

“Kira, you and Raine can take a room. Heidi will stay with me,” Pangu announced as he paid for the rooms at the front of the building.

“…You don’t want to talk?” Kira asked carefully.

“About what?” Pangu responded curtly.

“I don’t know…” Heidi muttered, “Your blasé attitude toward Baiya and his…friend?”

“I do not know what you mean.” Pangu forced a smile. “I do know that I am tired and I want to sleep. Baiya can stay out or pick a room to retire to when he comes back. As long as he is ready to leave with us in the morning, what he does is his own business.”

Kira’s worry was blatant but he parted ways with them and left for his room with Raine. Heidi sighed, knowing the burden was now on her shoulders.

The room, like the rest of the town, was severely lacking. There were not even mattresses but mats on the hardwood floor. Heidi grimaced at the sight but sat down on one anyway. She waited until her brother claimed a mat before taking a deep breath and sighing.

“Holding this stuff in is not good, you know.”

“What are you talking about, Heidi?”

She frowned and pulled her legs up to rest her chin on her knee. “I think you know exactly what I am talking about. Your feelings for Baiya.”

Pangu shook his head and then lay down on the mat. He turned away from her to physically block her out but still replied, “You are just looking for opportunities to tease me. I will not take your bait.”

“I am not!” Heidi huffed. “Since you were little I knew you had a thing for guys. I never judged you for that, you know? I am trying to be supportive right now, not mean.”

He folded his arms across his chest and dug his nails in, pinching through the fabric of his robe. “How could you have possibly known back then?” Even he had not figured it out until his later teen years.

Another sigh passed her lips but she relaxed some. “Remember that friend I had? What was his name? …Pik? The boy you always wanted me to invite over each time you were allowed to visit?”

“Pak,” Pangu recalled. He had come to realize the young boy had been his first infatuation though it was short lived. “How did you realize from that?”

“I had a girl friend who also liked Pak,” Heidi explained, “She looked at him the same way you did. I realized the connection and did not say anything. I was not even sure your mentors knew since that sort of thing was against Tiandi and all…”

Though, to be honest, she had kept the information to herself for two reasons. The first was that she had never been one hundred percent positive and the second was a tad more vindictive. She wanted to hold onto the secret until she had a good time to use it. That time just never came and, as she grew older, she realized that she had no desire to “ruin” her brother as she once did. So, she let it go.

“Baiya knows…” Pangu said in a whisper after a short bout of silence. “So does Kira but I have not told Raine. And no, my old mentors do not know either.”

“You told Baiya?” Heidi was rather surprised. Out of everyone, she would figure her brother would avoid him the most in regards to that topic.

“Yes. I mentioned that I liked men and he told me he was similar.” Pangu gulped. “Kira sort of figured it out on his own. He has a sixth sense about these things.”

“Hmm.”

Another pause persisted and Heidi was driven to her feet as a thought entered her head. Pangu heard the commotion and turned his head to the side. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“There was a well beside the building. I am going to get a drink of water.” She did not wait for a response before hurrying out of the room.

It had barely been a half hour so she was not sure if she would see Baiya and Crom outside anymore. There was a possibility that the Agni disciple had retired to the guard’s barracks for the night. In which case, she would have to have a talk with him.

Really, either way, she intended to talk with him.

Once she was outside again, she scoured the area until she heard some muffled voices. She pressed her body against the wall of the nearest building and crept closer until she could peer around the corner.

In a space between stores, two bodies faced each other and, if she focused, she could hear the words being said. “I know, I am sorry.” Baiya.

“That is alright. I just wanted to ask.” Crom.

Heidi leaned even further, only hoping her silhouette would not be seen.

“I understand and, perhaps if we had met up six months earlier, the answer would be different,” Baiya said.

“Is there a rule about it? …being a disciple and all?”

“Not especially…but my priorities and wants have changed since then.”

Silence.

“Is it one of them…?” Crom trailed off.

“N-no. It is not.”

Crom’s dry laugh echoed through the narrow space. “Oh, Baiya…who am I going to tell?”

Baiya took a long moment to respond and when he did, he was so quiet that Heidi almost could not hear him. “It’s the Xiang.”

She perked up and moved away, losing the remainder of the conversation in her internal celebration. Finally, there was something good she could do for her brother. Something to prove to him and his disciples that she really did want to be helpful.

So when Baiya appeared from the alleyway, she stepped out to greet him. “Hey.”

He jumped back and clutched a hand over his chest. “Shit! What are you doing out here?”

“Grabbing some water,” she stuck with the same excuse she gave Pangu, “and, unexpectedly, to give you some good news.”

Baiya’s scarred brow was the one that rose up. “…Good news?”

Heidi smiled and nodded. “I did happen to overhear you just now—sorry—but I can tell you that my brother feels the same way.”

While she expected some level of surprise, she did not anticipate Baiya to scowl. His brows furrowed and he pushed past her to head toward the inn. “Leave your brother alone, will you?”

She spun around. “What…? I mean it. I am not trying to pick on him; I am trying to help.”

He glared over his shoulder. “Whatever joke you think you are playing, it is not funny.”

Heidi watched with a hanging jaw as Baiya stormed into the building, leaving her out on the road. She was not even sure how to react—that had not gone, at all, how she had hoped. Not even close.

#the xiang chronicles #my novel #my writing

[stylistiquements]

Day 9 : Scronch'love.

𐐪𐑂 Pairing : Sapnap x fem!reader {Playlist}

𐐪𐑂 Summary : a lovely afternoon and an ancestral question; when are you going to join the dream smp?

𐐪𐑂 Word count : 1.5k

𐐪𐑂 Warning : swearing

Masterlist | Previous | Next

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

“Have you been here for a long time?”

“Have you been here for a long time?”

“Have you been here for a long time?”

Time bends and twists into unknowns shapes when well spent. So, you’re so not sure. Long enough for your fairy garden to start looking like at least a proper garden, long enough for your feet to start fidgeting, brushing against the soft fabric of the blanket ever so slightly and softly.

“Can you share your screen?”

“I’m just picking flowers, there’s nothing much to see,” you warn but it never does the proper job.

“That’s fine, I like watching you play.”

“Oh, do you now?”

“Yeah. You’ve been playing for years and you’re still dog water. It's almost soothing,” you hear him grin through the silkiness of his voice.

You smile evasively, palm gripping the mouse and executing on memory. Soon, Sapnap’s satisfied noises hovers and everything is just how it’s supposed to be. You spend a while humming the music of days and nights of the game while building your project. Sap helps from time to time, giving advice when his attention is there and leaving trails of compliments on his way. You don’t think the garden is necessarily that good, you don’t mind either.

“Do you think the tree should go on the left or the right of the pond?” You ask, fingers drumming back and forth between the two options. Right he says. "What about the roses, do I plant some or not?"

“It’s just a detail, don’t hurt your brain too much on that,” he says in a light tone, but you disagree.

“Details are what make things important. Like when you remember I prefer warm pillows so you give me yours, it’s just a detail but it makes me happy.”

“Of course I do; you’re a baby,” he murmurs teasingly.

With an arched eyebrow, you retort, “says you,” and silence follows for a second as you plant the tree on the right of the pond.

“Yeah, Dream already made sure I was aware of that.”

“Not sure why the piss baby thinks he’s qualified to have this conversation, buddy,” you note and Sap chuckles are as vivid as contagious. “Why would he call you a baby anyway? What have you done?”

“I-I’m not telling you.” As soon as the mumbles fades, your phone sends loud vibrations on your desk. You abandon your character to the night and the wildness, picking the phone as you murmur a low oh, okay. Whether it’s to your phone or Sapnap, that, isn’t really clear. Still, Sapnap’s words sound more distant, more of what wonders are made of. On the screen, a twitter notification of a certain Karl Jacobs.

“You’re not even listening to me anymore,” Sapnap whines.

“I don’t listen to whiny babies, sorry.”

“We’re on the verge of divorce, yn and it’s your fault.”

A scoff skitters out through teasing lips, “But you still talk about me all the time, don’t you?” Your voice drags through different lands, unknown and musky.

“So what?” He splutters all awkward like it’s some kind of confidence that shouldn’t have left his thoughts and, somehow, you’re surprised the almighty confidence has left the game. “Who said that?”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re obsessed with me, admit it,” you demand and though you don’t notice it, too tangled with the moment, the atmosphere is tinted with a different nuance like it’s suddenly dawn at the end of a summer party.

“So are you.”

Now, your heart drums a strange yet familiar rhythm. Something made of secrets and uncertainty, something you decided to leave unnamed a long time ago. Sapnap, you reason, can’t be lied to. He knows better than words half meant, half made up and it’s annoying, really, but he just does somehow. If you dare to lie, he would know and then it would be even more annoying.

“Yeah, you’re living in my head rent free but at least I’m not trying to hide it.” No answer. You peek at the game, you’ve been slain by a spider. “Karl said that,” you resign yourself. “He said he was about to join the vc by the way.”

Before the conversation can carry on, the sound of Karl joining the call resonates. Being in this Discord server is like living in a house with 10 siblings, that’s what you understand from the way Sap exhales heavily.

“Oh, I am interrupting something?” Karl says, struck by a peculiar energy.

“Besties time Karl, besties time,” Sapnap mumbles beneath his breath and it chimes a little like disappointment.

“Well, too bad I guess,” Karl exclaims. “It's about time I meet miss Bunnyshow.”

Karl is like that gif of a cat sitting in a tiny box with the caption “if it fits, I sit”.

“Does that mean our passive aggressive subweet arc is over?” You ask, faking the dejection when your smile grows wide.

“Oh god, I hope not. That’s my favorite part of the day.”

"It means a lot to me. Especially coming from my comfort streamer Karl Jacobs," you confess.

Satisfied, your attention gets back on the game; flowers rooting gracefully into the dirt and hives ready to host the beloved honey bugs as Karl and Sap catch up on time being apart. Everything is quiet and peaceful like the end of an afternoon well spent.

“I like your garden,” Karl points out and you hum a thank you beneath your breath.

“So you can take Karl’s compliments but not mine.”

“We’re besties you’re honor. Sapnap you can leave now, thank you,” Karl giggles and you follow along.

“Sorry Karl, there’s only room for one man in my heart and that has to be Sapnap.”

He fakes a cry to keep the theatrics before adding without transitions, “You know if you asked Dream he’d probably let you on the SMP.”

“No thanks,” you grin.

“Sapnap, your girl doesn’t want to play with us.”

“She’s already been whitelisted for months now,” Sapnap informs but fails to comment on the first part of the complaint.

He’s not lying, but you feel like it says more about Dream’s stubbornness than it says about you. As for your best friend, he understands better than anyone that wish for privacy and it’s something made of respect like yours for his career. You’d rather see him shaped by all the light than being touched by a glimpse of it. He does, after all, deserves it all. So, that’s the contract you made with yourself because it made sense; being a supportive shadow. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that you’ve never considered streaming before. It’s that it’s his world more than yours.

Karl, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to think the same way, “This is unacceptable, I gotta send a few texts.”

“Lost cause, dude, lost cause,” you grin but stubbornness seems to be a pre required trait for those mcyts.

Before you have time to find a suitable comment about the newborn group chat, a new person joins the call and Sapnap's annoyance is even more palpable, "No fucking way dude. We can't even have a second of peace on this server."

"Why would you be in a discord call if you want peace. You're just dumb," Quackity retorts with an energy he and he only can ever own.

Then George joins and Dream follows on his heels and soon your ears are filled with conversations that are as loud as scattered. Your shoulders sink in the back of your chair as soft fingers try to brush the upcoming migraine away. This is why you can't join the SMP; -not really but still- too much energy that has to be processed at all time. And you should know better, being friend with a very chaotic boy for the last 15 years, but you're not somehow.

"No, fuck that," Sapnap mutters. "I'm out."

"You can't leave now we have things to discuss," George exclaims. "Bunny, explain to me how Sapnap's proposition is more appealing than mine."

"Because I know her more than you do," he defends, and he's right. Money isn't of you interest. Love, on the other hand...

"Because she's like scronch'love," Karl giggles mindlessly.

"The fuck does scronch'love mean?" You ask, amused.

"It's very simple," Quackity intervenes. "If I offered you the same thing, would you even consider it?"

"Of course I would. What kind of question is that?"

"Fine. So, if Sapnap keeps his offer, here is mine; you become the president of Las Nevadas in addition to what he said."

"What?" Sapnap takes offense.

The call brims with an agitated confusion as you smile deviously, heels rooted into the floor to make your chair spin lightly and your fingers drum on your desk.

"I don't think you wanna do that," George corrects.

"Yeah, you absolutely don't," you confirm.

"Fine," he retorts. "So Sapnap's offer plus a Las Nevadas citizenship. How does that sound?"

"Like an offer I'll confider," you sigh. "So who's scronch'love now?"

"Still you," Dream answers. "Except you're also a big dummy."

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

A/N : helloooo,, how are you??? this part very self indulgent and I think this fic will be in general but I hope you liked it anyway. I love the idea of c!quackity always being too much and always having something to add to be even more over the top. I'm having more trouble than I thought about Bunny's and Sap's friendship because I want them to have a very special friendship but I hope it appears as such. idk. lmk what you think and thank you for reading it it makes me very happy <3 Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

Taglist : @open-minded-chip-101 ; @itsoakaa ; @gaysludge ; @tinyegg ; @qnfdnf​ ; @paintingpetalsforyou ; @notjennaleigh ; @victoria-a567 ; @washy-washy ; @moneybagmarvel ;

#129 days #Sapnap smau #sapnap x reader #smau #social media au #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n #mcyt smau #sapnap series #sapnap fluff #mcyt x reader

[wavesmp3]

fake title: 'are you happy?'

are you happy? | juyeon x reader | a mess of a concept, vaguely post-apocalyptic(?) | warnings: death, gore

time has a funny way of waxing and waning through your life. it slows and stops for years and years and years. and then it's running past you, a blur of moments painted before you in hues of pink and blue. time was slow when the rekshi came. when they appeared five years ago, stealing the scream from your lips and people from your life. you swear time stopped when they got sangyeon. and sometimes it feels like time hasn't restarted since. like you're still stuck in that moment, the stench of gasoline, the rekshi's screech, sangyeon's. burned flesh smells terrible--you know that now. people, no matter how small, have a lot of blood. you know that too. you learned about amnesia after trauma in a psychology class seven years ago. you wish it'd happen to you already. that you could wake up and forget all of it. every wretched second of the time that hasn't moved since the rekshi took sangyeon from you.

but then again, time isn't always so unbearably still. other time's its quick, like a bullet, like disaster. it's knocking your door down and pushing you against the wall, gun to your head and knife to your throat. time can be faster than any car or ship or aircraft. it's faster than you can run. faster than anyone. but the funny thing about time is that once it does finally start, it doesn't know how to stop.

time re-started, a year after sangyeon and five days after meeting juyeon through a close call with a rekshi that you just barely saved him from. near-death experiences do that to people. bind them together like red threads of fate. "it's a good thing we don't meet a lot of people then," you had told juyeon, five days on the road with him and the soulmate metaphor still falling off his lips.

"why's that?"

"everyday is near death."

he had laughed. and you swear that alone made time start again. a distant ticking of a clock buried under the sound of his giggle.

and time hasn't really slowed down since. it didn't slow when you told him about sangyeon nor did it when he told you about changmin. time doesn't even hesitate when you kiss juyeon for the first time, doesn't stop to breathe when he kisses you back. it doesn't pause when you and juyeon meet sunwoo.

and when the rekshi take sunwoo, the same sickening way as sangyeon, time only seems to speed up.

"no one else." you whisper against juyeon's neck one night, a month after sunwoo. a vow to yourself between the lines of your request to him. a vow to never make yourself feel that pain again. "only us two from now on."

"okay." he whispered back, just as solemnly, just as heartbroken, just as lost. "only us."

the mutual promise is broken by you and him five months after that night. but neither of you could turn away when the little girl asked for help, neither of you could walk away when it was so obvious that she had no where else to go.

but even then, time doesn't slow down. time doesn't stop or break or pause when the rekshi get her too, a year after you both found her. time doesn't wait for you to catch up to it. you want to take your fist and shatter the entire concept. you want to take the entire idea of time in your arms and throw it off the tallest cliff in the farthest corner of the world. you want to be something else altogether, something beyond time. unaffected by it.

things change after the little girl goes. a gut-wrenching realization that lands like a rock in the pit of your stomach when juyeon's laugh no longer manages to bury the ticking clock. juyeon laughs, and you can only wonder how much longer you have with him. it's been three years now, almost as long as you had sangyeon before the rekshi came.

you remember what he said to you all those years ago, when you were both still strangers, before you knew his heart like your childhood home, before his name sounded like prayer slipping off your tongue. you remember how he said near-death experiences bind people together like the mythical red threads of fate. is that what means to be bound to someone? is a soulmate, for all its nuance, simply just the person by your side in the face of death? to stare death in the eyes like an old friend with his hand in yours?

you remember what you said after. how everyday was near-death. and when you said that, you thought you had no more than a year left in you. that if you had managed to survive past the rekshi, you wouldn't have survived your own head. give it a year, you had told yourself a week before meeting juyeon, a year before grief wraps me like a blanket and suffocates me with its falsely warm arms. it had been a dramatic sentiment, you were quite dramatic before juyeon. sometimes you still are. but you believed it. and you kept on believing it until a year had passed. sunwoo still alive and you still alive too. grief hadn't encompassed like you thought it would. instead, it slithered away the way the cold does between february and march. a surprisingly warm day. and then another. and then it's may and you're laying in the sand with juyeon under the sun. sunwoo gone, but still not cold. not the way you were after sangyeon at least. you lay beside juyeon, eyes closed and relishing in the light of the sun, and wondering when grief stopped being a weighted blanket that sat on your chest and threatened to crush your lungs. you wonder when grief became a small presence that sits at your feet, unbothered, until you decide to take it your arms and hold the freezing thing against your cheek and heart. you wonder when grief stopped being the default. when it become choice, not one made to feel sad, but rather, one made to remember.

that day, in the sand and under the may sun, you remember turning to juyeon and saying it was more than soulmates. he was more than just bound to you and especially not by some wavering red thread. he was your air. your water. the sound of laughter. a reason to keep on running after time. someone to hand the cold weight of grief to, passing it back and forth like kids playing catch, someone to hug when you held it for too long. someone to remind you to set grief back down and that it's okay to occasionally forget about the lives that were. about sunwoo and sangyeon. someone to catch you when you spend too long staring at the grief by your feet, someone to push your chin up and tell you to look at the sun. look ahead. look at me. someone to say don't go. someone to stay for.

but that was nearly two years ago. that was before the little girl. before he looked at her and saw what you see in him. someone to stick around for. things change after the little girl, but it's less to do with you and more to do with juyeon. more to do with the fact that the girl is gone and you aren't enough to stick around for.

"stop the car." you say one day, abruptly, the words coming out like a confession. he does. as suddenly as you said it. you nearly slam your head against the dash.

you're out of the car immediately. running through a field of tall grass and white flowers. you run and run and run. it's been five years since rekshi appeared, not much less since they took sangyeon. four years since you met juyeon. three since sunwoo died. a little over one since the girl. you run past those memories, collecting them in your arms, carrying each of them, their burdening weight slowing you down because you can't breathe anymore. so you do the next most reasonable thing. you grab the grief at your feet and swallow it, let it inflate your lungs. then you keep running. the field is infinite like time. but you run, never faltering, ripping out the grass accidently, tearing every moment of the past five years apart. and then you stop. at the edge of the cliff. at the rim of the word. you stand in the face of death and beside time itself. finally you've caught up to it. finally you gather it in your arms, fit the seconds between the memories and throw them all off the edge of the world.

you remember a documentary you watched once. you don't remember when you watched it. you've gotten rid of time. but it doesn't matter how recent or long ago you saw it. you watched that documentary once, and you remember it now, at the edge of the world while watching time fall. the documentary was about buffaloes, how they travel in herds and fall off cliffs together. how they must not know what they're doing. how they must be blindly following the buffalo in front. you wish to be like that now. to run and throw yourself off the side of this cliff and have it not be a choice. you've spent so long chasing after time, that now, it almost feels natural to run off the edge of the world behind it. it feels like the only thing left to do. to follow the one before you and fall.

"don't jump!" you hear juyeon scream from behind you.

"i wasn't going to." you whisper, but he can't hear the lie. he's already running towards you, through the field you just tore through, the same one you just stripped bear. he runs to you like he could hear how much you were thinking about the jump--or more accurately--thinking about the fall.

"don't jump." he repeats, breathlessly, coming to a stop ten paces away from you. too far away. he looks scared. hesitant. as if he knows that if he comes any closer you just might. "please. don't jump."

neither of you say anything after that. you stand facing juyeon and your back turned to the edge of the world. you both stand on a field beyond the rest of the world and above time. you both stand like you're the only two people who matter. and maybe that's not just a stupid simile. maybe that's the truth.

"would you?" you ask finally.

a timeless silence follows.

you step towards him once. twice. a third time. he doesn't move. he stands seven paces away from you now, but it feels like worlds apart. like he's at one end and you're at the other.

and despite the world between him and you, you still hear every break in his voice when he chokes out, "it's just been so long."

he falls to his knees.

and you cross the world to get to him. you've always been willing to.

he cries next to the flowers. face half covered by the grass. you stand above him. wondering whether he wishes he was like a buffalo too. wondering if he's waiting for you to fall so that he can follow. for how long have you both been standing at the edge and refusing to fall off for each other?

"juyeon," you kneel down in front of him, "where did you go?"

"i knew her." he sobs. you stare at him. "the girl. she was from my hometown. she didn't remember me. she was so young, but i remembered her. and i knew her mother and her sister. i knew. and it felt like she was untouched by this world, that they couldn't touch her. she gave me hope. like we weren't just sitting and waiting for death, like maybe there's an end to all this. but she's gone. in my head she was invincible. but still, the rekshi got her. and they got sunwoo and changmin and everyone. and i don't want to wait for them to get you too."

you don't say anything. you sit in front of him silently. waiting for the flowers to soak up his sobs. you wait for him. long enough for your memories to have crawled back up from the edge of the world and take their place beside you. the girl was his sangyeon, a tether to life before. you're beyond time. have spent the past four or so year chasing after it, and finally today you caught up and threw it away. all this time, you thought juyeon was right behind you, running after time after you. but you were wrong. he's been stuck in time since the rekshi got her. and before he could catch up to it, you threw it off the ends of earth. you look behind you. you wait for the time you flung past the cliff to crash. and then you wait for a new clock to start clicking. you laugh, for a number of reasons, but mainly to drown the sound of it.

you laugh again because time is a funny thing. you always thought it waxed and waned, slowed down and sped up. but really, time is a circle. and you're in the center. and time is the only thing standing between you and juyeon.

you take the grief at his feet and place it next to the memories beside you. you hold his frozen grief in your hands the same way he's done before with yours.

"deja vu." he mutters, like he can see what you're doing. but he can't. there is no tangible grief for you to hold. it's a metaphor.

"are you happy?"

he sighs. "i was. i am. it's just--"

"no. juyeon." you take his face in your hands, holding him in your palms. this isn't a metaphor. in a world of things that are, this is real. "are you happy?"

he must hear the clock ticking. he frowns. "are you?"

a/n: this piece got a just a bit out of hand.....whoops

#juyeon scenarios #the boyz drabbles #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #juyeon drabbles #juyeon imagines #juyeon fanfic #tbz scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #juyeon fluff #juyeon angst #the boyz angst #the boyz x reader #juyeon x reader #mine #asks #are you happy? #casey if you see this I also got out of hand.... #idek how long this got #oh. I just checked. it’s 2.3k 😦

[southeastasianists]

In the lush jungle of Malaysia’s Penang Island, a primate makes its way through the forest’s canopy. A layer of fog sits among the trees and the humid smell of damp soil—mixed with excrement near the primates’ recent locations—lingers, while the sounds of cicadas, birds, and other forest animals reverberate. “It’s always noisy in the forest,” says researcher Jieh Long Koh, project executive for Langur Project Penang (LPP).

The endangered dusky langur (Trachypithecus obscurus) reaches out to grasp a narrow line in the trees, deftly moving its 15-pound body across a busy street in Teluk Bahang via Malaysia’s first urban canopy bridge. The langur’s face is dotted with white latex from the sticky fruit of the Terap Nasi (Artocarpus elasticus), and when it reaches the other side, it disappears into the patch of forest in search of earleaf acacia, wild cherry, bird nest fern, Chinese violet, Ceylon cinnamon, blue pea flower, an assortment of figs, and other plants to eat.

Penang Island is one of the most densely populated areas in the world, with 1,663 people per square kilometer, and population numbers are expected to rise exponentially by 2035. The busy road the langur crossed in Teluk Bahang is one of the island’s vital arteries. Like the roadways, the arboreal route that helped the creature safely traverse the street and journey from one patch of habitat to another was human-made. It was fashioned from recycled fire hoses—part of Langur Project Penang’s work to help animals including the dusky langur. To drivers zooming by 40 feet below, the animals’ dark fur, with light-colored patches around its eyes and mouth, appears as little more than a speck.

Jo Leen Yap is LPP’s founder and director, and a PhD student at Universiti Sains Malaysia. She began focusing on dusky langurs about five years ago, when she noticed many were spending time close to the road, often climbing across on electrical wires and sometimes perishing from electrocution, collisions with vehicles, or falls. She began the LPP citizen science group as a simple Facebook page, but word quickly spread, and more people became involved with the canopy bridge project as well as other research and environmental education work.

She sees the canopy bridge as part of a broader effort to help people and wildlife live in harmony. “We really hope that the canopy bridge is not just to connect the fragments in a large area or even for the roads and highways, but also a conservation tool [to] reduce human-primate conflict,” Yap says. “The ultimate goal is to bridge the gap between humans and urban wildlife.”

The canopy bridge in Teluk Bahang is dubbed “Ah Lai’s Crossing” in honor of an alpha male langur researchers studied there. It’s crafted from retired fire hoses from the Fire and Rescue Department of Malaysia (known as Bomba) given to collaborators at APE (Animal Project & Environmental Education) Malaysia. Other materials, such as bamboo and nylon, were also considered, but the designers opted for fire hoses because they hold up even in rain and monsoons. An engineer tested them to make sure they’d be reliable, performing a tensile strength test on unused portions of fire hose as well as used, twisted portions that were kept in conditions similar to those at the bridge site.

The bridge spans the 40-foot-wide road with a few extra feet on each side. One end is affixed 40 feet up in a tree—which an arborist confirmed was healthy and stable—while the other end is attached to a steel pole on the other side. A camera on the pole keeps a watchful eye. “The fire hose itself can withstand a lot of weight as long as we check it regularly,” Yap says, noting that she inspects it every time she visits to collect SD cards. The team plans to conduct tests at least once a year to ensure the fire hose and tree stay strong and to analyze how fast the hose materials degrade in the environment.

The original design—a single rope of twisted fire hose—was installed in February 2019. Just four days later, a long-tailed macaque was the first animal recorded crossing. The arboreal animals were used to traversing the road in other ways (such as by trees, cable wires, or the road), so it took them a bit to warm up to the new alternative. But they soon figured it out.

Between March 2019 and August 2020, the camera trap captured a total of 779 animals—mainly plantain squirrels and long-tailed macaques—crossing the bridge. While the shyer dusky langurs rested and fed nearby, they weren’t as keen to use the original crossing.

In August 2020, LPP reinforced the bridge. Now, it consists of two parallel ropes of twisted firehose—one installed a few feet higher than the other—connected by additional ropes, creating a structure resembling a horizontal ladder spanning the roadway. Dusky langurs are now seen using the modified crossing more frequently, though LPP is still crunching the numbers.

The Penang Island canopy bridge project is just one of many wildlife crossing structures around the world, including Banff National Park’s famous overpasses and underpasses for ungulates, bears, and other large animals. Adam Ford, assistant professor of wildlife restoration ecology at University of British Columbia, says before these were installed, there were many collisions between wildlife—particularly elk—and vehicles in the park. “They called it the meat grinder—it was bad for people, bad for animals,” Ford says. Combined with fencing, these structures have drastically reduced collisions in the park.

Different species have distinct structure preferences. Grizzly bears and wolves seem to like overpasses, while cougars prefer underpasses. Even different age classes and sexes of animals have varying preferences. “It can be quite nuanced,” Ford says. Other types of crossings around the world include culverts for small mammals, aquatic designs for fish and amphibians, aerial bridges for gibbons, and even power poles for sugar gliders in Australia.

“I think the main message is there is no real ‘one size fits all’ solution for getting animals across the road,” Ford says. “The best way to design a crossing structure is to try to think about what in ecology we call the life history needs, the species-specific needs, the types of locomotion they have.” He says ideally crossings would “mimic the types of structures that animals would interact with in a more natural setting—that’s the key.” Langurs naturally use tree branches to make their way through the forest, so the human-built structure allows them to make similar movements to get across the road. The color of the fire hose also evokes the appearance of a local tree.

Since early 2020, pandemic-related movement-control orders in Malaysia have prevented LPP from conducting some of the fieldwork they planned to study wildlife at potential sites for future crossing structures. Yap’s team hopes to install additional bridges, but they need to observe species movement for at least three months at a potential site, and the locations they’re considering are scattered, including places on the mainland. The team is also looking to incorporate speed bumps and signage to help slow vehicles near crossings.

Each project involves a lengthy process of surveying, tabulating data, gaining necessary approvals and permits, and a multitude of meetings. Yap hopes they can gain approval for their next bridge later this year or next year. She is hopeful their work will help promote human-wildlife harmony while saving animals’ lives, but she emphasizes that protecting the animals’ domain is the ultimate goal. “It doesn’t mean that this is the perfect solution,” Yap says. “The perfect solution is still to safeguard the habitat.”

#Southeast Asia #Malaysia #Animals #Ecology

[aurora-daily]

Runaway with AURORA: we meet the songwriting sprite to talk about music old + new

'We simply have to survive. And that is enough'

Interview by Blossom Caldarone for gigwise (July 8th, 2021). 

A textbook empath and considerate soul, Norway’s AURORA has an endearing air of childlike sensitivity. Comfortably seated in her mother’s French dress, we caught up over Zoom amid the frenzied #runawayaurora trend and the singer’s monumental TikTok rise.

AURORA’s 2016 single ‘Runaway’ is now the dainty accompaniament to millions of short videos on the increasingly influential TikTok. Predominantly featuring suburban teenagers, the trend has encouraged people to find the charm in their otherwise mundane corners of the world. “Seeing the beauty in the small things is something we all lost on the way” she says. Whether users film lakeside days out, pose elegantly or capture early morning sun beams, the trend's theme is strikingly on brand for AURORA: “It’s nice that people have created a wholesome vibe to it - you never know with the trends! I’m happy it’s not anything horrible.”

Momentarily gazing at the mountains outside her Bergen window, it’s clear to see AURORA isn’t fazed by the numbers that currently skirt her name. “It’s a very abstract thing for me and therefore I don’t spend time trying to understand it. I’ve just been home, doing my normal things, cooking my dinner, reading my books and being in the studio. I’m very grateful that people are letting my song into their hearts” she softly explains.

Written when she was only 11, the song platforms a prematurely advanced AURORA grapple with the concept of running away from the people we love when we are in pain. “Just like a dog that goes out and dies alone in the forest, we do the same. We struggle so much in talking about these very mutual, normal feelings but can’t deal with them when we are going through them ourselves.”

It’s a universal reality that stumps any age or decade, and her philosophy on the song’s ability to resonate is profound: “Music, unlike us, has no age. If it’s good or relatable, or if it has nerve, it will never die and it will always make sense to someone.”

She’s embarked on a week of interviews, and I’m her last before the weekend. Conscious she may not want to wax lyrical about Runaway any longer, I turn the discussion to the things that make AURORA tick. “My biggest muse is Mother Earth and nature. It always has been and always will be” she gushes. “It grounds me, it opens me up. It humbles and strengthens me.”

Her Nordic roots affording her the luxury of stunning outdoor access, she talks effusively of its importance, and how life’s increasingly high tempo is detrimental. Astutely describing being human as an “extreme sport”, she accredits success to ending up in her own bed at the end of the day. “The world is way too demanding in every area. It’s almost impossible” she laments. Her approach to living is one of simplicity; where surviving is the only necessity and anything else a mere plus. “It’s a matter of life or death, we simply have to survive. And that is enough.”

With last year’s lockdown allowing her to fully immerse herself in her artistry, AURORA found herself revelling in the desolate streets and empty shops, whilst finding ultimate inspiration in the silence. Her introverted intentions thrived whilst she empathised with the struggling extroverts in the world: “Silence is so rare and I love it. I try to be in silence as much as I can”. AURORA famously doesn’t listen to much music apart from fellow celestial Enya: “I’m afraid I’ll miss out on an idea if I’m listening to something else. And I don’t want to be effected by other melodies. It contaminates me” she explains. A theory shared with anything but pretence, AURORA evidently has an ability to hone in on the nuances within the quiet; a skill that requires patience and devotion to creative processes.  

Her timely mid-pandemic single ‘Exist For Love’ is a song that prioritises the fundamental importance of love. A delicate step away from previous AURORA releases, its traditional tendencies embody the timeless essence of a '50s love song, a trait only enhanced by its cinematic Isabel Waller-Bridge arranged strings: “I just felt like we needed a divine love song. I truly believe that when we understand love - unselfish pure love - we understand why we exist” she plainly explains, again finding a way to strip down concepts that feel hard to define.

“When I write, I think a lot about what the world will need. I wish to make something that will be good for people.” Often writing selflessly, boundaries are key; being an empath can be exhausting. “I can’t really read the newspapers. I have to learn things through discussion, and then dive into matters if I want to educate myself more. I spend little time on social media because it makes us sad, but it also makes me sad to see so many sad people on social media.” Surrounding herself with others who also tend to give more than they receive, AURORA ensures her good intentions are not misplaced.

As for her fans, they are at the forefront: “I think a lot about them. It’s all for them.” But it will come as no surprise to learn that she doesn’t like the more vacuous side of the industry, and finds getting recognised slightly unsettling. “It’s good to know it’s all worth it. As long as you can say something that means something, you can use the music as a tool to support people out there” she justifies.

Her new single ‘Cure For Me’, out now, is another example of AURORA’s altruistic approach to songwriting. A playful tune that will surprise fans with its cheekiness, it debunks the idea that humans should ever need to be cured, and that anything other than who we are is abnormal. “People are very self-critical and it doesn’t take much for us to assume that something is wrong because we look different, or act different, instead of just accepting that we are different. We are all biologically designed to be unique” she explains. We go on to discuss how we’re led to believe that we’re crazy for being emotional or sensitive: “That’s what inspired me to make this song, as an anti-gaslighting song where you just celebrate that it’s fine, and you’re going to be fine, and I don’t need a ‘Cure For Me' because I’m perfectly ok as I am.”

The song’s juxtaposed setup is a peek into what’s to come: “It’s fun for me to be less serious about things. It’s very new for me. I am often very serious in all my music. I really feel like we need a bit of light right now, everything has been so intense.”

Heading into a newfound artistic side, AURORA is considering how the new sound should be consumed too. With her mystical ability to sonify nature and art, AURORA’s eclectic and ethereal world has always captured feeling in a visual way. “I love to be able to shape how people see my music, even if just a little bit. For many people, it’s easier to understand the whole thing when they can see it as well.” She is currently painting an “intimidating” canvas and studying Egyptian history, alongside Greek and Roman mythology. Finding inspiration in their bohemian attitudes towards female roles, AURORA is focussing on the old, the new and repeated behaviours in between: “Everything we’ve done in history, both good and horrible, has sometimes taught us to be better and sometimes not. Our patterns of behaviour are very interesting.”

So with ‘Cure For Me’ here and a well-researched new artistic process in full flow, AURORA is peacefully going about her business and prioritising the small things that make her feel truly content. Currently, she's filling her home with flowers: “It makes me more happy every day than I could ever imagine.” Her intentions are in the most authentic place; a space that prioritises connection and understanding, and one that prioritises the heart in a world where its complexities are so often dismissed. “As long as we remember to take care of the mind and the heart, we’ll have the capacity to care for others as well” she finally assures me.

#aurora #aurora aksnes #interviews #cure for me #new album

[prinxlyart]

Could I ask for some more of the wonderful fluff that is Wilumity domestic headcannons? Or, possibly if you have any, some Camileda headcannons?

*GASPS*

ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS

Willumity:

Willow is the early-riser. She’s developed a habit of waking up early to check on her plants and do her workouts. Luz and Amity have no idea how she does this every single day (they often complain because she’s also a huge source of warmth and how dare she leave their little warmth cocoon).

Amity has Routines™️ that cannot be disrupted or she will freak out. It’s an autism thing for sure, but it’s also something Luz gets. Because Willow gets up so early they tend to have their own little morning routine together; stay in bed and cuddle for maybe another half hour or so (depending on how early Willow wakes up), then they get up and do their bathroom routines. I think.....Luz is the type to do night time showers due to having such short hair, so Amity showers while Luz brushes her teeth and washes her face. Luz is usually dressed by the time Amity gets out of the shower and she gives her a quick kiss on the cheek to let her know she’s headed to the kitchen to get coffee/breakfast started. There have been a couple times Luz has forgotten to give her her after-shower kiss and Amity was so thrown off that by the time she made it out to the kitchen, her eyes were red from crying because A) Did Luz not love her anymore??????????? (incorrect, but their routine had been broken) and B) Trying to continue with your routine with a step actively missing is hell and she’s been upset ever since. Luz has usually just been too tired to remember and will immediately cover Amity in kisses to make up for it (after they go through whatever process they need to to help Amity calm down). Amity hates that she gets so upset over something so small, but Luz reassures her that her routines are important to Amity and it’s okay to be upset when those routines are disrupted. Whenever Willow catches them like this after her workouts, she requests a kiss from each of her girls on either cheek before she goes into the shower herself (usually to lighten the mood because it always makes Amity happy when Willow mimics Amity’s routine habits [it always works]).

Surprisingly, Luz is the one that does the grocery shopping. Willow knows what fruits and veggies they can grow to add into meals and how to prep food for the plants that actually eat, but she’s not especially well-versed in like. Meals. Amity has like 3 meals she knows how to make properly because they’re her favorites. Luz, with her mom’s recipes in her arsenal along with whatever wild dishes Eda’s made for her over the years while she lived in the Owl House, has the largest repertoire of Human/Witch meals under her belt. Plus, she always ends up getting little treats for her wives while she’s at the market that they adore. (Luz both loves and hates when her girls ask to go with her to help; she loves spending time with them, but she hates that they don’t know Luz’s system. She’s got a pattern that she follows and they’re just all over the place whenever they come with her.)

Every Saturday night is Date Night and one person is assigned with coming up with what they do that night. They take turns every week; Willow enjoys quiet nights in at home with them, romantic dinners with candle light and soft music while they chat about their day // Amity enjoys taking them out for romantic picnics if the weather allows, they have a few Favorite Spots they picnic at, but sometimes they just climb up on the roof. Luz always asks them to tell her about the Demon Realms constellations and their history because she loves hearing them talk. // Luz enjoys taking them to the Human Realm to visit some of her favorite restaurants and walk around a local park and watch the stars afterwards. She’ll tell them about all of the constellations she can remember (Percy Jackson phase anyone? Yeah, we all knew those shits names and constellations when we were in it, huh?). She’ll tell them her favorite stories behind each kind of constellation and tell them which ones remind her of her girls.

I 100% do not know what kind of jobs these girls would have as adults. I mean, Willow more than likely has a public garden she maintains, but I have no idea with Luz and Amity. I’ve seen a lot of headcanons in fics and art about Luz going into politics after defeating Belos but like. Luz? Luz Noceda? In Politics???????? Even in the Demon Realm I highly doubt that would happen. I think she might want to continue researching magic and how she’d be able to find glyphs for specific kinds of magic, creating new magic, etc. She might write books? Both fiction and non-fiction. I think she writes some memoirs about her life before coming to the Boiling Isles and before defeating Belos, but she’s been wanting to be a fiction writer since she was 7 years old. She’s got her own fiction series for sure. Amity might get into politics but I also doubt that. She might just be the editor and publisher for Luz’s books. Or she might work at the Library. I really don’t know. But Luz Noceda, ADHD extraordinaire, going into politics? I’d sooner expect that of Willow. And she’s already got her girls and her gardens.

They’ve got a Wednesday night book club. But it’s just them in their living room reading their own separate books after dinner until they get tired. They’ll all cuddle up together either on the couch or the floor or in bed or wherever and just sit and read in comfortable silence. Often times one of them will start absentmindedly start running their fingers through one of their partner’s hair and cause that partner to fall asleep. It is not uncommon for them to wake up in the same spot they were in for their book club with their books laying about and cramps in their necks. It’s one of their favorite things they do together.

Camileda:

Camila likes to sneak pictures of Eda in the morning cuz she thinks she looks especially cute when she’s not fully conscious yet.

Camila has no idea what the fuck is up with Eda’s hair. She’s tried asking both Luz and even Lilith but neither were able to give her an answer. They both only have theories. Eda always spouts some new ridiculous thing whenever anyone asks (she actually has a small, contained black hole at the back of her head that she uses to just store random shit // she cast an enchantment on her hair years ago to be able to use it like a Bag of Holding so she didn’t actually ever have to carry a bag // she was just born with hair that can hold seemingly anything and has never questioned it // etc.), so one day Camila just asks her. Eda tells her the truth; she doesn’t know either.

Regardless of the fucking enigma that is Eda’s hair, she still enjoys helping her wash and maintain it. Eda refuses to admit in the few first months they start dating, but she adores when Camila plays with her hair. Her hair is an integral part of who she is and it’s shockingly more intimate to her than anyone would guess when the allows others to touch her hair. She loves listening to Camila talk about her day while she braids tiny details into her hair. One day, Camila was so angry about something that had happened at work that she ended up braiding some super intricate flower designs into Eda’s hair and actually used all of it. Lilith and Luz are both in shock and awe that Camila was able to tame Eda’s mane into something so gorgeous and Eda maybe didn’t take out the broads for a few days afterwards because she loved it so much.

They love learning about each other?? Their lives up to this point have been so culturally different that all of their stories have an air of magical mystery to them that the other is always dazzled by. Eda loves learning about how Camila grew up and how she decided to become a healer (a ‘nurse’ she insists but Eda doesn’t really know the difference). Camila loves listening to Eda’s many tales of mischief of her school days and after her school days; although she does get worried when Eda mentions that she’s been to jail (Eda insists that it was only for a little bit before she figured out how to bust out! And she made off with some extra cash to boot, so it was a double victory).

It’s one thing to hear about Luz’s accomplishments from her own daughter and from Eda; it’s another to hear them coming from her teachers. Camila goes with Eda to a Parent-Teacher conference at Hexside ready to hear about how much trouble she gets into and how she needs to sign off on different kinds of detention slips and reports of damage and whatever, but is pleasantly surprised to see all of the teachers actually praising her? Some are ecstatic about her presence in heir class? They’d all been taught that humans had no magical ability at all and Luz had come into their classrooms and proved them all wrong and even helped them understand some of the nuances of their own subjects they’d struggled with on their own. By the time the conference is over, (including an incredible review from Principal Bump that left even Eda feeling moved) Camila was clutching o Eda’s arms as they left the school and crying in happiness. Her daughter was doing so well in school. All of her teachers loved her! They didn’t have any complaints about her inattention or disruptive behavior because they knew she was learning her own way. And Eda had fought for Luz’s ability to attend the first school that made Luz actually feel good about herself. Let’s just say there were a lot of heartfelt kisses that night when they got home.

I personally like to think that Camila likes to dance. Like, profesional-levels of dance. Like she maybe minored in dance in college before buckling down on her medical degree. I like to think that sometimes Eda will find her humming along to some song playing from her phone and dancing an entire routine in tiny movements while she goes about doing whatever else. Sometimes Camila will just drop into a fucking perfect split while she’s trying to reach for something that rolled under a table or whatever that catches Eda so off guard that she has to leave the room to collect herself. (It’s Camila’s love for dance that made Luz want to try cheerleading at her human school. Her school didn’t have a formal dance team, so cheerleading was the next best thing. It’s also how Luz knows how to drop into a perfect split when she first tries on that Hexside uniform despite not ever attempting it before.)

Eda’s never had any formal dance training; she’s a head-banger kinda girl. During some of her earlier escapades into the human realm, she’d sneak into many concerts and blended in perfectly with the other attendees in the mosh pit. She loves when Camila tries to teach her some more formal dances that aren’t just a free-for-all. Eda does her best to learn how Merengue works but she often gets confused as to what point she’s supposed to lean or step or spin and she usually ends up dizzy with Camila giggling at her. Camila always helps her come out of her dizziness with little kisses pressed to Eda’s temples; Camila adores that Eda tries so hard.

They love teasing each other. That’s the whole headcanon. Nah, for real tho, they love trying to get under each other’s skin with little teasing remarks and eyebrow waggles and sticking their tongues out at each other when no one else is looking like they’re little kids. It’s one of the easiest ways to get the other to laugh and they love each other’s laughs. Eda brings out Camila’s deeply-buried immature goofball personality that she’s had to push down for years just due to the nature of her studies and work, as well as being a single mom. You don’t have a lot of space to be an immature goof when you’re responsible for a whole other human being. Eda helps coax that back out of her. (Luz can’t remember ever seeing her mom so happy as she is when she’s goofing off with Eda.)

Camila’s constantly poking at Eda’s elbows and hip bones and shoulders and muttering about how bony she is; Eda replies in kind by digging her elbows into Camila’s gut or directly into her face and hip-checking her.

In a similar vein, Eda adores Camila’s curves, and not even just in a sexy way. She just loves how soft and squishy Camila is because hugging her is so comfortable; Eda swears she could fall asleep standing up if she’s hugging Camila. She also swears by this because she knows that under all that squish is some serious muscle and Camila wouldn’t let her fall.

Not really a Camileda headcanon so much as it’s just a headcanon: Camila and Lilith have the same eyeglasses prescription. It’s bizarre, that doesn’t happen really, but somehow they have the exact same prescription. This is discovered one afternoon when Camila and Lilith both arrive at the Owl house at the same time. Camila removes her glasses and sets them on the coffee table to just relax for a while while she and Lilith make small talk (Long after Camila’s reluctant acceptance of her). Lilith goes picks out a book to read and sits on the other couch to settle in while Camila takes a cat nap and she just picks up Camila’s glasses out of years of habit of picking up her own glasses. She doesn’t even notice they’re not her glasses until Eda and Luz come home and ask why in the hell Lilith is wearing Camila’s glasses. Lilith is confused but takes off the glasses and blushes because for Titan’s sake, those aren’t her glasses, those are her sister’s girlfriend’s glasses!!!!!!! She sputters out her explanation while Eda laughs at her and Camila wakes up. They end up actually properly testing it out by swapping glasses and yup; exact same prescription. They end up accidentally hoarding stockpiling spare glasses all around the Owl House for either of them to grab when they need glasses.

Please always ask for Willumity and Camileda, those are the keys to my heart 💖💕💝✨💘💞✨💖💖💘💕💝💞

#prinxly inquiries #anonymous #the owl house #toh headcanons #willumity #camileda #luz noceda #amity blight #willow park #edalyn clawthorne #camila noceda #I refuse to talk about Lumity anymore it’s Willumity or NOTHING #please always ask me about Camileda though I fucking live for Camileda

[ddarker-dreams]

Fallen From Grace. Yan Giorno x Reader [COMM]

Giorno has given you too many gifts to count.

This benevolent act serves multiple purposes, culminating towards the goal of making your time here better. He doesn’t shy away from the reality of what he’s doing to you, the extent of your loneliness after being displaced. Forcing himself to remember this bitter truth keeps him from getting complacent, striving to make your experience all the better. 

No detail is to be overlooked. In what little free time Giorno has, he molds your surroundings to your liking. The meals that are planned for you consist of high nutritional value, often rotating your favorites with only the best ingredients and chefs to prepare them. Your wardrobe is full of outfits tailored to your measurements and tastes. Rare and ethereal flowers span across the master bedroom you share with Giorno, him creating them with the purpose of soothing you. 

For all this effort, Giorno never has an expectation for your gratitude. He doesn’t believe he deserves it, having stolen you from your normal life. He’s the reason for the tear soaked pillows, the restless nights and detached demeanor you’ve adopted. Whether it’s to ease the guilt that suffocates his heart, or to see your eyes light up for only a moment, Giorno tends to you. 

This custom, handmade journal is one he gave you at the start of your time here. With you receiving limited human interaction, Giorno found it important for you to have a way to express your thoughts. While you were initially antagonistic towards him about the journal, you began to use it. He lets you hide it from him, letting you believe it’s out of his reach for peace of mind. 

Ironic as it may sound, Giorno respected you by never laying a finger on it. The overwhelming temptation of learning his beloved’s most inner thoughts isn’t lost on him. He could read it and place it back to its original spot without you being none the wiser. For months, he made a point in refusing this alluring idea. 

That is, until this very second. 

Sitting on his dark mahogany desk, is the journal that contains your private thoughts and experiences. Giorno’s eyelids flutter shut, a soft sigh leaving his lips. Leaning further into his chair, he gives more thought to the situation. The forbidden fruit lays before him, ready to give knowledge he shouldn’t have. 

There’s a grander reason for this dilemma. When spending time with you, Giorno is keen to pick up every nuance of your behavior. It’s a trait of his that has followed him since childhood. Every twitch of your mouth or hesitation in your voice paints a larger picture. He’s capable of reading you, knowing your thoughts before you even know them yourself. This often works out in his favor. 

But lately, when he speaks to you, something feels different. In a way that doesn’t make sense. You still hold apparent dislike for him, but you avoid eye contact less. There’s a sense of underlying assurance, like you’re privy to information that he isn’t. It gets under his skin, eating him from the inside out. 

No longer do you threaten him with bitter words, detailing your resentment towards him. You seem content to sit in his presence, talking casually about what you’ve done that day and asking him the same. He won’t lie and say he doesn’t like the development. But his gut tells him there’s a malicious intent laced in your new behavior. 

What are you hiding from him? 

The realm of possibilities is few and far between, and Giorno considers every possibility. None of his theories placate a voice in his head, a gnawing that something is very wrong. Talking to you and asking questions laced with hidden agendas has led to no discoveries, options growing limited to discover the truth.

Running his fingertips over the spine of your journal, he gingerly opens to the first page. It’s a dirty feeling to be doing this, invading your privacy behind your back. He’s done worse for the sake of your well being, the justification spurring him to continue on to the next page. It contains your first entry. 

“I didn’t want to write this. Putting the words into paper almost feels like I’m accepting the reality of what’s happening to me, this parody of a life. I don’t have much else to do to pass the time. 

Even my hobbies bring me little joy, knowing who set them up for me like a doll in a dollhouse. Focusing is another thing entirely. How can I focus knowing I’m always being monitored to some degree? Even as I write this, I wonder who’s watching me. 

In the past, when I felt anxious, I’d write. And well… anxiety is the heartbeat of my life now. Everyday I wake up, more numb than the last. All I look forward to is when I’ll sleep next. At least then I don’t have to feel anything, I can just exist without trying. There’s nothing else for me to say.”

He knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Giorno’s lips curl down into a frown, his eyebrows furrowing and stomach dropping. Seeing the depths of your pain so tangible, in your own words, kills a piece of his soul. It’d be an insult to you to waver now, he thinks, resolve staying firm. Not wanting to invade your privacy more than necessary, he skims through more entries in hopes of finding any leads on your current behavior.

“It’s already been three months since I’ve begun living here, if you can even call it that. I’ve gotten better at spotting the guards. I like to think of it as a little game. They’re good, I give them that. But when you have nothing to do, living in a house with no noise, it grows easier to listen. To notice things I wouldn’t have before. 

Maybe I’m going stir crazy. I don’t like knowing how I’m being monitored, but I’ve grown accustomed to it. I hate to admit how he was right , when he said I’d grow accommodated to this with time. I don’t want to. I don’t want to learn to live like this. But I can’t stop it. Resisting the inevitable is a pointless waste of energy, which I hardly have anymore.” 

Giorno picks up on your lack of mentioning him by name. In most of your entries, you avoid even insinuating to his existence when possible. It’s a cold sensation, knowing who he loves most omits him at every chance. He understands -- it’s what he deserves after putting you through this isolation -- yet the complex hurt remains prevalent. Every word stingers more than the last.

He soldiers on, searching through more entries. 

“I wonder if they’re allowed to talk to me. When I call out to the occasional shadow, or creak in a room beside me, there’s no response. But I know they’re here, I’ve seen him giving them orders in the past when I pretend to sleep. It’s always in hushed whispers, as if anything they say could surprise me. 

I just want to talk to someone. Someone that isn’t him. Someone that doesn’t avoid my gaze like everyone else here. It makes me feel like I’m a disgusting sight to behold, even though I know why they look away. The guilt from witnessing what they do, outweighed by their longing for money. I hate it. It makes me hate them. At least look at me, like I’m a human. 

They’re spineless cowards. All of them. Disgusting subhumans that take a paycheck over my suffering. I hate them so much, almost more than I hate him.” 

Giorno freezes, noticing small crinkles in the paper towards the end of this entry. Signs that you must’ve been crying, he deduces. God. He wants to tell himself that it’s worse than he thought, but that’d be a lie. All along he’s been aware of the great extents of your suffering, all pointing back to him. 

Running a hand through his hair, loose from its normal styling, Giorno wonders if he should stop now. Every word is like a nail in the coffin of his heart, paining him in more ways he thought possible. Making difficult decisions has come as second nature to him, so he preserves on. 

“Yesterday was my birthday. What a shitty thing to realize. I got a lot of things. More than I ever had gotten before. More offline games, clothes, perfume, shoes, jewelry, and even a painting. By the looks of it I think it’s rare, but who gives a fuck. 

An interesting development occurred. One of my guards, if that’s what you’d even call them, approached me. He had just gotten off the phone, and informed me that my plans for the day were going to be different. Apparently the big boss got held up at work, so he wouldn’t be joining me for dinner.

Am I supposed to be upset about that? Well, I certainly wasn’t. Who cares. Seeing him would just make me feel worse. I hate how out of control I feel like he’s around. I almost find myself forgetting about all he’s done, when he speaks to me so calmly. Just thinking about it makes me feel dirty, like I should shower. 

I didn’t see a point in responding at first. But eventually, I spoke up before the guard could leave. I asked him why he was okay with this, what he sees everyday. He didn’t offer a response. But I noticed something. His breath hitched, I’m sure of it. 

Maybe there is another human being in this pseudo-prison after all.” 

A painful reminder of the past. It did hurt him at the time to have to miss out on an important day with you, even though Giorno was self aware to know his presence brought you little comfort. There had been emergency phone calls over an attack from former Passione members, retaliating for losing drug related income. 

The timing of it was awful, just thinking back to it reminds Giorno of the impatience he felt then. Hours were spent personally dealing with cleaning up what had happened, meaning he wasn’t able to see you as was originally planned. Orders were given back home to inform you of this change, though it’s now evident it impacted Giorno more than you. 

The last section piques his interest. You felt you had noticed guilt in one of the guards? The pool of men that Giorno had carefully sifted through are no strangers to witnessing barbaric acts. Such is the life of a gangster. In your state of heightened emotions, there’s a possibility you could’ve imagined it. 

The journal goads him to continue, unraveling the mysteries of your heart.

“I’ve gotten better at spotting the guards.

I can’t believe something like this is exciting to me, but it is these days. It’s kinda funny in a pathetic way, watching as they shrink back when I spot them. The guard from before is the one I recognize the most. I pretended to be hurt, and he came out of the shadows to check on me. 

I guess he wasn’t expecting me to turn around looking fine after my acting, because he didn’t leave right away. Before he got the chance, I asked what his name is. He sighed, probably relieved that he wouldn’t have to report to his boss about me being harmed. He said his name is Marco. 

At that point, it was my turn to be surprised. I guess he was too, given the slip up. I must confess, it felt nice talking to someone. It’s been so long since I’ve heard another person’s voice. He went to walk away soon after, but I stopped him. It’s not like they can use force to get rid of me, so why the hell not? 

I told him I was bored and wanted someone to talk to. And, for some reason… he stayed.” 

Giorno rereads this passage multiple times, scrutinizing it. So you managed to speak to one of the guards he assigned to watch over you? When he was recruiting within Passione for the position, he made expectations explicitly clear. They were not to interact with you unless an emergency calls for it. And if they felt the situation called for it, they needed to report it back to Giorno. 

Your safety is paramount in his eyes. Regardless of this being a minor grievance, this guard will be punished accordingly for breaking the rules Giorno set. All of them were put in place knowing that if you grew connected to someone and they you, possibilities of insubordination would blossom. 

The dates on the pages are getting closer to the current day, not many more entries left. 

“Marco and I have been speaking more frequently.

He gave me a rough idea of the conditions in which we can talk, only in certain blind spots and times where other guards aren’t around as often. I wish it wasn’t so complicated. In our rushed conversations, I’ve learned more about him. I didn’t really think I would get all that invested in this person, since he’s stood by and watched my situation for a while now.

But now it makes a bit more sense. He told me that his little sister is unwell, having to practically live in a hospital room. That this dirty job is the only one that can cover the full expenses, and that without it she wouldn’t last. I can’t say that I forgive him entirely yet, but… I guess I can sympathize. I wish there was more I could do to help. 

Her name is Lucia. One of the times we talked Marco told me she’s the strongest person he knows, staying dedicated to her studies despite having waning strength. She’s a few years younger than me, but I think we’d have gotten along well. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave this place, but I wish I could meet her one day. 

Having him to talk to is nice.” 

Ah... so that’s what it is then.

Unpleasant emotions rise within, feelings that Giorno long thought were gone. Times before when you were speaking freely with your friends, laughing among them and living your life to the fullest. Those times were he wanted nothing more than to join you, to have you by his side and share in the experience. His position shot down any hopes of that, the possibility of endangering you deterring him. 

It was a painful time. Knowing that what he wanted was close and yet so painfully far, just out of his reach. Giorno wanted you to look at him like that, mirth in your eyes and a smile on your lips. To enjoy outings to the movies like you did with your friends, to have inside jokes and memories to fondly look back on. 

Envy doesn’t begin to describe the hideous feeling that permeates within him. Giorno’s grasp on your journal feels weaker, fingers shaking as he flips to the next page. Predator-like intent shines on his visage, emerald eyes narrowed and grip tightening. Not typically one to dwell on what could’ve been, it’s rare Giorno would feel like this. He makes the most out of every situation, his resolve unwavering and sights set on a single goal. 

You throw all of it into a loop, his normal composure a long forgotten memory. 

“Today I played a game of checkers with Marco. 

I think he was letting me win, but it was fun nonetheless. Apparently one of the normal guards was tending to business elsewhere, so we had more time together. He’s kind, kinder than I would’ve ever expected. When we’re together I just forget about everything other than the present moment. 

For once, I don’t feel like a prisoner all on my lonesome. I don’t notice the heavy ring on my finger, the suffocating air of this villa that I despise. It’s just us, cracking jokes and learning about one another. It’s what I look forward to the most, what I hold onto even when Marco isn’t around. It makes me feel human again. Like I’m not [First] Giovanna, but entirely myself.

Smiling comes a lot more naturally these days. I can even find myself stomaching his presence easier, though I still don’t like when he’s around. As long as he doesn’t find out about Marco and I, I feel like I can get through this. Everyday I change the location of this journal, within the expanses of this mansion. 

I still wish there was more I could do to help Lucia. I suggested giving Marco some of this stupid jewelry to pawn off, but he said it’s too risky. It’s surreal to know even pawnshops in Italy are fiercely loyal to Passione’s Don, and would be too hesitant to purchase his wife’s jewelry in fear of retaliation. 

Having all this wealth surround me feels like a waste when I know there’s someone who could actually use it. As much as I don’t like the thought, maybe I could convince Giorno to help Marco somehow. I have a few ideas but they’re probably all too risky. He does always tell me, ‘If you ever want anything in this world, tell me.’ 

I want to help Lucia. I want to help Marco, who I’ve found myself caring for. 

I’ve never asked Giorno for anything really. I don’t know how to propose it without making him suspicious--” 

Giorno can’t stand to read it anymore. 

Closing the book and placing it down, he steeples his fingers together. It takes a great deal of effort to frustrate him, normal composure melting away. Is it betrayal? Hurt? Jealousy? Everything wraps around his person, the air in his office feeling thick. Loosening the tie around his neck, he takes a much needed deep breath. 

A flash of your smile from earlier this evening at dinner comes to mind. You called him by his name, maintaining eye contact and asking about his day. Lulled into a false sense of security, wanting to believe nothing more than the farce unfolding before him. Of course you didn’t love him back. He was a fool to have deluded himself into believing that. 

At his fingertips is his phone. With a single phone call, he could command the world to fall. To have this guard who failed him tortured in the worst ways imaginable, experiencing hell on earth. Or to even join Passione’s former boss in a never ending cycle of death, that stretches the lengths of eternity. 

So many possibilities. Yet none of them would soothe the agony of his heart. Completely and utterly alone once more, like his earlier days. Requited love was all but an illusion, a fog that has now been lifted. 

Giorno purses his lips, considering. Fingers drum against his desk, the sound reverberating across the empty room. Grabbing a hold of his phone, he calls upon someone who could help him deal with this traitor appropriately. A message must be sent, he thinks, that will set the tone within the organization. It will hurt you to lose this newfound companion, but it’s a sacrifice he is willing to make. It’s not like you need to know the details either. 

The phone rings. Once, twice. Before his second in command on the other line picks up. 

“Yo, Giorno? You’re calling pretty late,” Mista’s voice is chipper as ever, the distant sound of music playing in the background. “Everything alright?” 

Getting up from his chair, he walks over to the window that overlooks his garden. His beloved wife walks among the paths, bending down and inspecting a rose. Giorno remembers when he turned an object into that very flower, how your dull eyes lit up at the awe inspiring sight. 

This is ultimately all for you, he reminds himself.

“Yes, everything is fine. Are you free at the moment? I have a job for you.”

#giorno #Giorno Giovanna #giovanna giorno #yandere giorno #Golden Wind #vento aureo #vento aureo x reader #yandere vento aureo #yandere golden wind #giorno giovanna x reader #yandere giorno giovanna x reader #giorno x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #JoJo's Bizzare Adventure #jojo's bizarre adventures #jojo's bizarre adventures imagines #yandere jojo's bizzare adventure #jjba #yandere jjba #yandere jjba x reader #my stuff #commissions

[johnismyreason]

Every night and every morning // John Shelby x Female!Reader

Hi everyone ! First of all I really hope you and your family are all doing fine. This quarantine sucks but it is much needed ! Don’t worry it won’t last. I hope that this will give you a little bit of joy if you know what I mean 😏 This is one is a request from @enjoy-the-destruction asking: “Wondering if you would do a smut based around the same time as Peaky and John manages to make the reader squirt for the first time? 🤞☺️ As many words as you like, as smutty as you like. You know I love your style 🥰” Thank you again girl for the request ! I had fun writing this piece :) 

Words: 3k wtf ? 

Warnings: smutty smut smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), squirt, fluff, tiny bit of angst, bad English because your girl is French

YOU MUST BE 18+ TO READ THIS

It was such a good night. You hadn't shared one like this with John in a long time. He was always here and there, dealing with some “serious business”, as he always says, with his brothers. The rare evenings you spent together were usually late nights actually, when he’s done with his family. You always come second, and it started to really bother you.

“John, it’s 2 in the morning, what the hell are you doing here ?” you yawned, annoyed he made you get up from you bed.

“I just wanted to see my favourite girl” he grinned trying to step in your apartment. He frowned when he realised you’re not letting him in. “What’s going on ?”

“I’m working early tomorrow and I’m tired.” you stomped clearly wishing for this conversation to end so you can go back to sleep.

“It’s alright love, I can just lay in your bed with you, we’re not forced to make love.” he caressed your cheek but you moved your head to let his hand fall.

“I’m not just tired physically, John” you sighed. “I’m tired mentally because I always come second. You come see me only when you are done with your family and your job. I’m never your number one priority. Never. You knock on my door in the middle of the night, waking me up and expect me to let you in so you can have your fuck and leave in the early morning. And I’m dumb because I always let you in, because I love you.” You were whispering so fast to not wake the whole building up, that you were out of breath. Also because your heart was beating so fast. You didn’t know if it was because you were angry or because it was simply John who had this effect on you everytime you see him. Maybe a little bit of both.

John was caught out of surprise. He didn’t know you were feeling like this. “Love, you’re not my second priority. You’re my family you’re-”

“Am I now ?” you cut him on the verge of crying. He saw your eyes glistening because of the tears that were threatening to fall, so he cupped your face with his reassuring hands.

“Of course. Look, I am so sorry if I made you feel like you were not important to me. You’re the most precious thing I have in my life. I’m so sorry, please, Y/N let me make it up, I-” you broke free from his grip, letting a tear run down his fingers as you go.

“You should go.” you just said, avoiding his eyes.

“Y/N, love” he tried to reach for you again, but you stepped back.

“Go.” you choked a sob. He tried to catch your eyes one last time before going. You closed the door and heard his footsteps go down the stairs.

The next day you got prepared for work. You hated being late so you always make sure to wake up early enough to have all the time you need. Everything was calculated. You grabbed your bag and opened the door only to see John standing outside your apartment. You jumped out of surprise.

“Jesus !” you gasped, a hand on your chest. “John…” he had a big smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers, your favourite, in his hands.

“I’m sorry, love, I didn’t want to scare you I was about to knock on the door”

“What are you doing here ?” you asked, still happy to see him even after last night.

He handed you the flowers and you tried your hardest to hide your smile. “I want to take you out tonight. Just us. At a regular hour of the evening.” You puffed a shy laugh. “Like before. Please, Y/N, say yes.” You looked at him and couldn’t resist to his beautiful blue eyes.

“Alright.” you ceded. John breathed again, a relieved smile spread on his face. He kissed you hard, crushing the flowers between your bodies.

“Mmm John ! The flowers !” you said your lips squeezed on his. You both laughed as he let you go put them in a vase. When you come back, John grabbed you by the hips and kissed you. Again and again, until you broke it.

“John, I’m going to be late for wo-” he cut you with another kiss making you forget what you were saying.

“Who cares about work, love ?” he mumbled against your rosy lips.

“Well I do, and I’m surprised to hear you say that” you responded taping his shoulder playfully. He rolled his eyes amused and let you go.

“Lemme walk you there, eh ?” he proposed caressing your cheek with his thumb. You smiled brightly and nodded, closing the door behind you.

When you walk outside, John automatically took your hand. Gosh, you missed him. And he missed you too. Everything looked so normal. You and him, walking hand in hand in the streets, goofing around, like a normal couple. Almost normal. He described you what he is going to be up to today and that was what brung you back to almost normal. You didn’t really like his “family business”, always worried he wouldn’t come back from it. But he does, so you try to not think a lot about it. You arrived at the clothing shop you’re working to. John spun you around so that your chest meets his. You giggled looking at him and his goofiness.

“I see you tonight, huh ?” he says with a smirk and a velvet voice, giving you chills. You nodded biting your lips and kissed him softly but he deepened it. You chuckled and let him go, pushing him away slightly. “Seven o’clock” he reminded you pointing his fingers and walking backwards.

“I know ! Leave now” you chuckled before entering the shop.

At seven o’clock sharp, John knocked on your door. He didn’t want to let one minute slips away of this night with you. The draught from the doorway when you opened it took with it your perfume that intoxicated John. He discovered you in a lavender dress, hair in its natural state with a hair clip on the side, the one he offered you for your last birthday. You were breathtaking and he was speechless.

“Love, you are…” he tried to find compliments but all of them were not enough to describe you. You smiled, feeling your cheeks becoming rosy.

“It’s a dress from the new collection at the shop. Thought I’d might buy it for our date. Do you like it ?” you asked shyly. He took your hand to make you twirl so he can take an overall look.

“You look like heaven, Y/N. I can’t believe you're my girl” he pulled you against his chest to place a chaste kiss on your forehead before adding one more passionate on your lips. He locked his eyes on yours, remembering every color nuances they have. “Let’s go ?” you nodded and followed him to his car which he opened for you and helped you climb in.

It was such a good night. You had dinner in this new fancy and very romantic restaurant in town, laughing, sharing everything you two missed from the other, drinking wine. You hadn’t have a night like this in a long time. Since your fourth date actually, and you’ve been together for two years now. John offered you to leave the restaurant and ending the night at his house, which you agreed.

You both stumbled in his house, laughing too hard on a joke John made. You took off your coats and laughed some more making your way to the living room. He walked towards you, catching you in his arms to steady you. You tried to catch your breath back when he cupped your delicate face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. He stared at you so lovingly, your heart stopped for a moment.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry you thought you were not important to me. I should have said no to Tommy when he called me. Spend more time with you, showing you how much I can’t live without you. I’m sorry, love.” He brushed away a strand of hair behind your ear. “I promise I will make things change to be with you more often. Every night and every morning, actually”.

Your heart sped up to his oath. “Really ?” you searched for a lie in his eyes but you didn’t find it.

“Really.” He kissed you softly and then more intensely, sliding his large hands to your waist and hips. You whined at his touch and felt your heat rising. John groaned when your fingers scrapped his hairless scalp. “Let me show you how much important you are to me, love, ‘right ?” you kissed him in response and let him lead the movements.

He lifted you in his muscular arms that always make you feel safe and protected, and climbed the stairs to the bedroom, while you explored his neck with your lips. He then put your feet back on the ground once you reached the room, at the bottom of the bed. Catching your lips with his, he started to undress you. His fingers were soft, never failing to give you chills, unbuttoning the back of your dress. When he flipped the last one, you slipped your hand under the sleeve on your shoulder to help him take it off.

“Don’t.” he stopped you, breaking the kiss. “Let me undress you. Let me make you feel good. Please” his last word expelled in a sigh, almost like a pray. You removed your hand to let him have full access to your body. He picked up his kiss from where he'd left it and he made your dress flow over your skin like a river, living you in only your undergarments. They were white and delicate. As soon as he put his eyes on you, he imagined what your wedding night would look like.

“Sweetheart…” he attempted to say something but he words died on lips when you connected yours. “You want to take off my clothes ?” he suggested.

“Yes…” you whispered. You started with his vest throwing it away in a hurry.

“Easy, naughty girl” he chuckled, “Take your time, we’ve got all night”. You took a deep breath and forced your movements to slow down.

You unbuttoned his dress shirt and caressed his torso, feeling every inch of his hot skin, from his V-line to his chest and shoulders, finally resting your hands on the back of his neck, pulling him towards you to kiss him. When your mouths played together, that’s when you decided to take off his shirt fully exposing his upper body. Oh how you loved this part of his body. Toned, broad, warm, freckles all over. You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. You trailed small and wet kisses all over his chest, shoulders, arms and abs, before unfasten his belt and his pants button. Your delicate fingers grazing his lower belly skin gave him an electric discharge of desire that he restrained his hardest with a grunt.

“Fuck… Y/N… How do you do to always drive me crazy ?” you gave him an innocent look in response confirming his question. You pushed his pants and underpants all the way to his ankles. When you got up you made sure that your lower lip leave an unholy wet trail along his shaft making him lose his mind. “Oooh…” he exhaled in a groan “Y/N… You don’t fucking know what you’re up to”. And how true was that.

John took your legs and wrapped them around him to make you both fall on the bed. He was eager almost hungry. Kissing every bit of your skin while taking off your bra, biting your nipples, sucking hickeys, making you moaning mess. You felt hot spots growing everywhere he put his lips on your body.

“You sound like an angel, baby” you moaned again “Look at you, so fucking beautiful” he guided his hand from your breast to your lower belly, stopping right above your pulsating clit.

“John, please…”

“What do you want, love ?” he whispered in your ear sending shivers on your scalp. “Is it my fingers ? Or my mouth ?” he teased.

“Mmm both ! John baby, I want both…” you begged.

“As you wish” he said in a raspy voice, before sliding in your panties and between your pussy lips.  His long middle finger spread your arousal on your folds and started to circle your clit. He aligned his mouth with your cunt, you moaned feeling his hot breath against it. He removed his finger from your clit and placed his tongue instead.

“John…” you whined “I said I want both” you pleaded. He introduced one finger in your pussy travelling back and forth.

“Is it better, love” he hummed against your clit.

“Mmm, two fingers p-please..” he added the second finger earning from you a loud gasp when they hit your sweet spot. “Fuck John, it’s so amazing, gosh…” He kept his work with his tongue and fingers, giving you all the pleasure you need. John knew when you were close by the way you were breathing and moaning, that’s why when your breathing was more jerky and you whines louders, he accelerated his pace.

“Come on baby girl, cum for me. First orgasm of the night, there's more to come. Cum all over my tongue and fingers like the good girl that you are” his words stimulated you and you came undone on his now puffed lips and soaked fingers, screaming his name.

You tried to catch back your breath but John decided you had enough time off. He kissed you so you can taste yourself “Taste fantastic honey, huh ? Always so fucking delicious for me” he mumbled against your neck. You felt his hard cock against your sensitive core, playing unintentionally with your clit. John grabbed it and pushed it in you, both of you moaning and grunting.

“John, oh god ! Please…”

“You want me to move, darling ? Want me to fuck you ?” he groaned above your lips. You pathetically nodded wanting him more than ever. He started his pace slow but not for long. He also wanted you desperately. He moved faster and faster until you both reached your high.

“Jo-John, fuck ! I’m gonna cummm…” you fought to say, your legs around him and your nails scratching his back trying to hold onto something, making him go even crazier.

“Gotcha baby doll… cum for me eh ? Please cum for me, ffffuck your pussy is unbelievable !” his thrusts were rougher more animalistic, giving you your second orgasm of the night. You screamed his name, lost in curse words. However John didn’t stop, chasing his own release.

“Gonna help me cum, love ? Huh ?” he locked your nipple between his lips feeling your soft skin on his mouthfeel and tongue. To help him cum, he quickly changed positions, pounding you from behind you on all four, or on your back legs up, on your stomach face down.

He switched one last time the position, on your back your legs spread and his hands holding your knees. “I want to see your beautiful face, Y/N. Want to see how much I make you feel good when I’m fucking hard that pretty pussy of yours” you couldn’t respond, it was impossible, not when he was pounding into you this good.

“Fuck, you’re the best thing I have Y/N love… The best fucking thing…” he was grunting so loud like a beast. You felt a knot in your stomach but this one was different from the others. It was more intense, like a fire ball burning inside of you. You rolled your eyes back, mouth open wide, and let your orgasm wash over you, in the same time than John’s. You shot your eyes open when you felt your body producing something you never did before. You squirted. All over John’s torso. You're inhaling heavily not understanding what just happened. You looked at John’s face who had the biggest grin and proud look on his face.

“Wh-what… Honey, I’m sorry, I don’t know-” you stuttered embarrassed, trying to wipe your ejaculation off of his body. He took your small wrist in his big hand to stop you.

“Well baby girl, I can assure you that I’m gonna be way more often at home now that I know how to make you squirt” he smirked pulling you closer to him to kiss you delicately. “Come on love, gotta clean up” he whispered softly. The John who was bestial two minutes ago was now the most gentle being on earth. He actually was like this most of the time with you.

“I-I can’t… my legs…” he smiled to you and left the bed to go the bathroom to take a wet towel. He delicately removed all traces of what had just happened off of your body, kissing you here and there to relax you, before doing the same on him. He threw the towel away and laid next to you, embracing you his arms. He waited to hear your soft and regular respirations signaling him that you were sleeping before letting himself rest.

The next morning, you woke up before him, in the exact same position that you fell asleep the previous night. You moved a little to admire him. He looked so peaceful and divine. Your heart beating faster at the thought of seeing him like this more often now. John felt your glare on him and opened slowly his eyes.

“Good morning, love” he whispered in a smile and pecked your lips.

Yes, you really could get used to this.

#John Shelby #John Shelby x reader #Joe Cole #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine #john shelby smut #john shelby x reader smut #john shelby one shot #peaky linders request #smut

[givemeonebreath]

A big, messy Linked Universe playlist

Link for Links

Heavy on the angst, because of who I am as a person. (At the same time, don’t take it too seriously, man.)

Influenced by canon, manga (TP Link is really Going Through It™ ), my personal perceptions, and popular fandom canon.

A pretty wide variety of genres, with a bias towards metal and prog rock.

I kept snippets of lyrics for most songs, also because of who I am as a person. (Some were particularly hard to narrow down to just one verse or chorus.) Those - and a little more rambling - are under the cut if you really want, in the order of the playlist. But. It’s long.

I didn’t initially make this with the intent to share, but hey. Throughout my past year+ of listening, I’ve been haphazardly adding songs to a playlist I very creatively named Links. If something reminded me of them, whether through the music or lyrics or both, I threw it on the playlist, so some songs might seem odd or vague. Some are really on the nose, as subtle as a sledgehammer. (Sky for Sky? Dude. Sorry.) Some are there because of a fitting line or two that stuck in my head. Ultimately, music - like any form of creative expression - can be interpreted in a multitude of ways. 

My listening habits and tastes are erratic, which is why this is one big, jumbled playlist and not separated for different Links. Not to mention if I did that, some (Wild, Legend) would have a lot and some (Wind, Four) would have none, both because of my own familiarity with them, and because of the general themes of the music I tend to listen to. Most songs are a general ‘hero’s spirit reborn’ mood, anyway - those are the first part of the playlist. The second half is more nuanced to specific Links, plus a few Ganon vibes.

1. Deep Purple - April (Koji Kondo, composer of the original Legend of Zelda theme, was into Deep Purple as a kid, and it shows.)

2. Kamelot - Regalis Apertura

3. Au4 - So Just Hang On, Beautiful One (I’ve posted this here before. I can’t hear it without thinking of LU now.) So I slipped in through the gate almost unknown. All my border stamps were late. Seven days old. Cold hand griped my shoulder blade, broke the bone. Bloody nose and turned away, all the way home.

4. FC Kahuna - Hayling Don’t think about all those things you fear, just be glad to be here

5. Glass Animals - Youth Boy, when I left you you were young I was gone, but not my love You were clearly meant for more Than a life lost in the war

6. Pain of Salvation - Restless Boy A restless boy in a world too slow A flame born into cinder, ash, and glow I've given everything I gave it all Yet find myself alone

7. Haken - The Endless Knot Our design shifted frame by frame! Across the line our cycle starts to fail. Our design shifted frame by frame! Across the line we die to live again.   We need a story to believe in. We need a hero to prevail. We need a challenge we can overcome, it takes a tragedy to make us one 

8. Kamelot - Memento Mori (I particularly associate this with Time and Twilight) I am the god in my own history The master of the game I may believe if she would come to me And whisper out my name Sometimes I wonder where the wind has gone If life has ever been Sometimes I wonder how belief alone Can cut me free from sin

9. Katatonia - Fighters Look I told you so We never stop If we said that We'll back it up For sure You know We're fighters

10. Megadeth - This Day We Fight! (I mean, all Links, but particularly Warriors) For this I was chosen, because I fear nothing With confidence I tread through the dead of the night Off to another war-torn, faraway battlefield Wherein lies a demonic enemy horde

11. Moon Tooth - Igneous Well, the spirit took me And this old broken body leapt up and danced Settin’ out Settin' out with all my heroes in a bundle at my back Hawk am I More wings span in my shadow than overcast Yeah, you know what they say Always need something to look up to, ha

12. Samael - Moongate Destiny, tomorrow is today Destiny, without boundaries How many nights will we spend together traveling infinity back and forth and again How many times will we go together questioning eternity about us about our wonders...

13. TOOL- Parabola This body holding me reminds me of my own mortality Embrace this moment, remember We are eternal, all this pain is an illusion

14. Lunatic Soul - Blood on the Tightrope No matter how hard you try To shut down your feverish thoughts They hunt you down with no regret Cause you have to fix it all

15. Hybrid - Keep It In The Family

16. Soul Savers - Unbalanced Pieces Gone, now carry on Through violent seasons I call you mother, mother, mother In vain, absent chain The twilight's bleeding And the playing board has two unbalanced pieces

17. Steve Von Till - Valley of the Moon All she gives is a stone facade Like ill-given flowers at a dead man's wake Here we slave for the dreams of another And fight over scraps like wayward dogs

18. Ludovico Einaudi - Experience

19. Lunatic Soul - Summoning Dance Three stones on the right side Three stones on the left My vicious circle of life and death   “Oh you want it” I hear it again “Oh you want it” My burden Curse to break

20. Lunatic Soul - Through Shaded Woods Run through your shaded woods Run through your shaded mind Run through the night Run away Run through the darkness Run

21. Lunatic Soul - Naavie

22. David Bowie - Nature Boy There was a boy A very strange, enchanted boy They say he wandered very far Very far, over land and sea A little shy and sad of eye But very wise was he

23. The Dandy Warhols - Sleep Well, I could sleep forever But it's of her I dream If I could sleep forever I could forget about everything 

24. Au4 - Everyone is Everyone (and Everything is Everything) Tripping and tumbling, Flipping and fumbling. Flowing on the rivers of sadness That have been forever rumbling.   But from dawn until now Of all the paths that I could have gone down Of all the valleys That I could have been flowing through.   In spite of all the chaos And all that has come between us, How is it I still find myself Here with you. 

25. Kingcrow - Everything Goes Your hands again upon the ground Falling rain for hours and hours As you learn the game Time dispels the fog ... Ever been there? Ever felt like prey? Ever thought your mind was feeble? Lot of things that don’t make sense

26. Pain of Salvation - Icon As a child I felt too old And now when I'm grown-up I feel too young A different kind so I've been told Just slightly out of reach and out of time

27. Sophia Loizou - Divine Interference (I got spooky dungeon vibes. Also, the title.)

28. Carpenter Brut - Fab Tool Runnin Gunnin Forward in the phantom shatter so grand Splatter grand, arcanum fuel Wrought iron out of the sky Over me, tells no lie

29. Blue Stahli - Death Will Have to Run All on the open road Where none will ever grow A journey toward the known With countless miles to go

30. Gyroscope - Mistakes & Ladders I am the first? No I can't be the first A continuous nothing, destined for something Tell me who you are and why you trapped me here

31. Queens of the Stone Age - Run, Pig, Run Run, pig, run Here I come

32. Chali 2na & Krafty Kuts - Guard The Fort The swords are drawn and odds are stacked And we clash the impact's a thunderous clap Calm demeanor Even though we are under attack [...my turn to guard the fort ready for combat]

33. The Great Discord - Army of Me (lol)

34. Kongos - Terrified I think I'll start again and change my name You only live once or twice, what a shame Somebody fucked up when designing this game

35. Woodkid - Run Boy Run Run, boy, run! This ride is a journey to Run, boy, run! The secret inside of you Run, boy, run! This race is a prophecy Run, boy, run! And disappear in the trees

36. The Beta Machine - The End A million miles away from you this time I'll do what it takes I'm on my way If lines are in the sand I'll go under If I can make it in time I will bring you back with me

37. Devin Townsend Project - Gump When we last met who was I? I'm sorry we no longer see eye to eye The energy to keep you in while keeping myself out I'm sorry how you'll take this  But I just don't have the patience anymore 

38. Arrested Youth - Riot! I can't get much satisfaction living in this cave It's tough to breathe, I'm in the belly of the beast Can't sleep with all my rage With me and all my generations living in this cage Pick up your guns and tell your sons, tonight we break the cage

39. Led Zeppelin - Friends So anytime somebody needs you Don't let them down, although it grieves you Some day you'll need someone like they do Looking for what you knew

40. Faunts - M4, pt 2 (Wild) Fight your foes you're not alone Holy war is on the phone Asking to please stay on hold Bleeding loss of blood runs cold And I need you to recover   Because I can't make it on my own

41. Faith No More - Ashes to Ashes (Wild) I want them to know it's me, it's on my head I'll point the finger at me, it's on my head Smiling with the mouth of the ocean And I'll wave to you with the arms of the mountain

42. Devin Townsend - Jupiter (Wild) I know you At least I think I do Everything's changed But in the days that are so dark It's wonderful

43. Katatonia - Neon Epitaph (Wild) Shadow of my shadow Cling not to my grief I am long left behind now You are free

44. The Smashing Pumpkins - The Beginning is the End is the Beginning (Wild) Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us No one can separate us For we are all that is left The echo bounces off me The shadow lost beside me There's no more need to pretend Cause now I can begin again 

45. Katatonia - Lacquer (Wild) My voice travelling Soaring bird above your head The house we lived in Ridden with disease ... The levee breaking I can't live to fight once more The road to the grave is straight as an arrow I'm just staying around to sing your song, baby

46. Eskimo Joe - This is Pressure (Wild) There is no romance in suffocation  The walls fall down like your expectations You want to scream  And you want to shout But you've built up steam  And you can't let it out This is pressure 

47. Portugal. The Man - 1000 Years (Wild) We'll wait 1000 years  Until the end of time We'll wait 1000 more Dressed up in gold and white We'll climb the mountain sides  To find what's in the sky We'll dig through mountain sides  To find what's deep inside

48. Au4 - An Ocean’s Measure of Sorrow (Wild) Forgot my name and who I was. Memories of nothing floating up. All of the sorrow we once knew, Colours the ocean's water blue.

49. Band of Skulls - Carnivorous (Twilight) I am corrosive and cohesive Like a chemical bond I'm all together undone I am the broken kingdom I'm just so, so, so  So carnivorous

50. Glass Animals - Flip (Twilight) I wanna go back with a club and attack I wanna take to my guns and break you I gotta make my little foe take his own

51. TV on the Radio - Wolf Like Me (Twilight) My mind has changed my body's frame, but, God, I like it My heart's aflame, my body's strained, but, God, I like it

52. Kamelot - The Spell (Twilight) All my demons cast a spell The souls of dusk rising from the ashes So the book of shadows tell The weak will always obey the master

53. OSI - Radiologue (Legend) I was dreaming I was heading west thirty days faster Had a fever woke up in a sweat bailing out the water  Can't go on Can't go back   Heard your voice coming through the noise wrote it in the radio log Hurt my head, wondering what you said so I threw it overboard  

54. Katatonia - Don’t Tell A Soul (Legend) I have been destroyed by the perfection that is a lie see I'm moving soon see my feet are already on the road and if you know where I’m going don’t tell a soul

55. Haken - The Mind’s Eye (Legend) The shape of things to come are closer than they seem Changing your design every time you disappear I'm planning my escape through portals of your mind Where people seem to drop like flies

56. Pain of Salvation - Species (Legend) Sometimes I hate my fucking species Yet most days I'll do anything to please it  My generation was fooled to pursue our dreams But it is not what it seems You never need what you want And you rarely want what you need

57. Euringer - Do You Kiss Your Mama with That Mouth? (Legend) All my life, misunderstood I'm fuckin' too smart, too smart for my own good The last question, before I go is "Hey motherfucka, do you kiss your mama with that mouth?"  Yes! I kiss your mama with this mouth

58. !!! - Pardon My Freedom (Legend) Like I give a fuck, like I give a shit Like I give a fuck about that shit Like I give a fuck about that motherfucking shit

59. Team Sleep - Ataraxia (Legend) Froze asleep Coma deep I dream I'm out with you Alone at sea

60. Oliver Tank - Embrace (Legend) You're in my dreams The world is torn apart at the seams And I don't wanna leave Wearing my heart on it's sleeve

61. Machine Gun Fellatio - The Girl of My Dreams (Is Giving Me Nightmares) (Legend) The girl of my dreams is giving me nightmares I don't know what it means but she's got multi-coloured hair When she stands in the sand I dream of peaches And I'm not sure what that means either

62. Earl Greyhound - Shotgun (Legend & Hyrule) I am nobody, nobody is who I am I am a traveler on this land And nothing, nothing, nothing in my hands

63. TV on the Radio - Staring at the Sun (Hyrule) You're staring at the sun You're standing in the sea Your mouth is open wide You're trying hard to breathe The water's at your neck There's lightning in your teeth Your body's over me

64. Echo & The Bunnymen - The Killing Moon (Time) Fate Up against your will Through the thick and thin He will wait until You give yourself to him

65. Sufjan Stevens - Sugar (Sky) Don’t break my heart, don’t break my flow now And all this rage has got to go now Let’s take up this lifeline Come on, baby, gimme some sugar Don’t make me wait Don’t make me wait too long Don’t make me sing the sad song Come on, baby, gimme some sugar

66. Obsydians - Ascension (Sky) Rise above the hardships you’ll face I will sign and keep on rising As long as you are giving me your soul and keep me awake Feel like home and spread your light around I will listen and just be there As long as you are giving me your love I’ll give you my soul

67. Sonique - Sky -_-

68. Enter Shikari - The King (Ganon) Watch your back, my friend I'm about to kickstart a cycle Of never ending revenge And this time it's primal, it's tribal

69. Saul Williams - WTF! (Ganon, Hylia) "You've been polluted, uprooted by time You have been muted, computed but I'm A living vessel of the one, of the moon, of the sun" Hey! You ain't as dead as you seem, what the fuck? Hey! But you keep living your lies

70. These New Puritans - We Want War (Ganon/ Dark Link/ any nemesis I guess) Shadows dance back up, it's happening again If you listen carefully you might hear them whisper: "We hold all the secrets, we hold all the words; But they're scrambled and broken so you'll never know" Can't you see them Floating like black ash? Can't you feel them Crawling down your back?

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #listening to music while I stare blankly at nothing is legit my number one hobby #and then shit like this happens #linked universe playlist

[dojae-huh]

i still can't get over all the praises dy got yesterday (esp from non-nctzens) and the fact jh and jw came to watch him (esp the promise btw jd!)

about the drink support thing, i'm still trying to take it with a grain of salt. there was the false info about nr and i gotta agree with other anons that korean jd fanaccs are often submitted to jd fans or jd fans having acquaintances, so there's no solid proof and it's less "credible". but you and other anons made good points too that this is too big of an issue to joke. and if we think about jh's development in recent yrs to keep things about dy more lowkey (esp the "secret" bd presents) while still keeping his eyes and attention on dy all the time... right, drink support without mentioning it himself is definitely in jh's character (plus dy-centric accs talked about it). i saw a twt last night: jeong "actions speak louder than words" jaehyun lol agreed agreed.

if the drink thing is really true, that also means jh "decided" to do it by himself with no help from jw, even tho jw also went the first show 😮 it's possible with jh's personality. except the jh food truck, other neos are known to arrange support individually (jh also supported sc and dreamies before) but im still touched (and biased as a shipper lol). i love jh for being meticulous about drink variety for cast members of various ages too.

i wanna share this trans of dy's bubble last night about jh and jw https://twitter.com/nctdaoying/status/1416372006115700738?s=19

there are two separate bubbles, first is "jh and jw came to watch dy" and the other is "and support dy". in my lysn auto trans, the second bbl is "and cheer dy on". is "support" about the drinks? who knows. i don't know korean and the nuances of the language. support/cheer on could mean giving mental support, encouragment or just being there too.

it's kinda hard to tell if jh and jw could meet dy yesterday too. with covid restrictions, maybe they couldn't go backstage and meet dy. even dy's family might not be allowed, so they sent the flowers? (unless dy requested they visit him in later shows.) there's too little info at that the moment. like other anons said, i don't wanna be killjoy. i believe in jh the quietly supportive guy agenda, but perhaps later shows and other members visiting could give us more ideas how the rules and other things work.

Link

Hm, so believing an idol did something bad without pictures or explanation from the said idol is easy (like Yuta wearing a t-shirt "to show how he looks down" on Korea and Korean girls), but a normal everyday occurrence (like shopping) or a good deed (member support) is not.

As I said, I think it's very good to doubt and ask for verification, but the way some of the readers are so protective of the topic and their distrust instead of simply labeling the news under "questionable source", make me think there is a subconscious desire to find something to support "it's all delulu, shippers make it up" thought.

Enough of it. Jaehyun and Doyoung lived together in one dorm for years and shared hotel rooms, whether some fans truly see them shopping or not is absolutely irrelevant and changes nothing. It's not a metric for their relationship. It's enough to look at how synchronized they are to know they spend a lot of time together.

#Ask me away #I'll be your morning star #JHDY2021 #foggy green #Doyoung Axel

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Lipless Face That I Want to Marry, Ch. 7

<- Chapter 6 | Chapter 8 ->

Summary: I gave myself a stomach ache writing this one 🙃

2,961 words

Thirty-two days. Nine surgeries. Twenty blood transfusions.

Sometimes it seemed like just yesterday when everything was going right—you and Frederick were so happy together, his books were selling, your career was flourishing, and he had just asked you to marry him. Sometimes, it felt like a lifetime ago. A state of being so foreign, you wondered if it had even been real, or if you were remembering someone else’s life.

Seasons turned. Cherry blossoms were starting to bloom in the parks around Maryland, and each gust of cool wind carried with it their sweet pink fragrance. The spring air vibrated and sang with life renewed. But where you were headed, the air was stagnant, beige, and sterile.

As the automatic sliding glass doors drew you into the hospital, away from the sun, a piece of your heart withered like a flower. It sank deeper when you considered how the unhappy hours you whiled away in those sterile halls were nothing compared to what Frederick had to endure. He didn’t have the luxury of being able to leave.

Physically, he was beginning to show signs of real improvement. The pneumonia had completely cleared up, and he was starting to receive permanent transplants from the cutting-edge, lab-grown skin created from his own cells. Most of his body was still wrapped up in gauze, but a few places had only received second-degree burns, and those patches were almost back to normal. For the first time since the attack, his odds of not dying were higher than his odds of dying.

Mentally was a different story. His moods grew progressively more sour. With none of his true nemeses at hand to take out his bitterness on, that burden fell upon his nurses, doctors, and upon you—and it was beginning to weigh heavily. At first you didn’t want to see the rift that was forming, even as he cut your visiting hours short in an angry huff, and had fewer and fewer kind words for you. You shoved every fear and frustration into a box at the back of your mind so you could keep smiling. He was just in pain, you kept telling yourself. He just needed time.

You held onto the hope that as he got better, your relationship would return to what it had been before. But he was getting better, and the rift grew wider.

“We’ll still want to wait at least six months to do the procedure, until your infection risk has dropped to baseline levels for a healthy adult, but we’re putting you on the transplant waiting list now,” the doctor explained. She was one of his regular surgeons who had been with him since day one. She wore a white lab coat over blue scrubs, and hid behind a clipboard as she spoke. You liked the that she needed to use the file as a shield—it made her relatable. Always friendly, and clearly a skilled surgeon, but uncomfortable with the heavy emotional talking to patients, especially to Dr. Frederick Chilton, who was always in a bad mood, and always ready with a scathing remark.

But today he had nothing to say. No critique on the hospital’s competence. No casual observations with hidden barbs. Just a silent nod of acknowledgment before turning his head to gaze out the window at the fresh spring flowers, framed by the sea of fake ones you had bought.

Francis Dolarhyde, the Red Dragon, had bitten Frederick’s mouth with such extreme ferocity there was not enough connective muscle left to reconstruct new lips from Frederick’s own tissue. The only option for him to look normal again would be a face transplant—donated facial muscle, skin, and hair from a cadaver—although the doctor explained that the procedure was risky. After taking the transplant, Frederick would be put on immunosurpressant drugs for the rest of his life to prevent rejection, which meant every flu season, or even a coworker with a cold, could turn deadly without careful precaution. But to Frederick, it was worth the risk. He couldn’t bear spending his life being stared at. He couldn’t even stand you looking at the black hole that was his face.

Yet what the doctor explained about the procedure added weight after weight to Frederick’s chest until he felt crushed by despair.

The donated tissue had to be a very close match, or his antibodies would reject the new lips. Unlike receiving a heart or a kidney, his new skin had to be an aesthetic match as well. It could not be from too old a donor, or the skin would lack the proper elasticity. And, unfortunately, most organ donors were not comfortable donating external organs—it ruins the open-casket wake.

So, he could be waiting on a match for a very long time.

You thanked the clipboard-wielding doctor when Frederick remained sulking, not bothering to look up as she left. He adjusted himself slightly to follow a flash of movement—a bird—out the window, and winced as it tugged his unyielding scar tissue. Something tore under his armpit, but he didn’t yelp in pain—he was used to this level of it by now—but his eyes watered.

“At least you can sit up a little bit now. That’s great, isn’t it?” you said in an attempt to cheer him up.

He scoffed, and made no immediate reply.

Years, was all he kept thinking. It could take up to three years to find a match, possibly longer, the doctor said.

“Up to three years or longer,” he growled sarcastically. “She does realize that means nothing? It means any time, or never.”

“I know...”

“But thank god at least I can sit,” he spat bitterly. “A little.”

You were taken aback by his sharp rebuke and fell silent, a cavernous gulf between you though you sat right beside his bed. As you recovered from the sting, however, his words made you smile. He had always been churlish, but recently all of the spirit had been eroded away from his petty attitudes, leaving him defeated and mean. It was nice to hear his churlishness take on a spark of sarcastic sass.

“Don’t lose hope, darling,” you said in an overly-sweet patronizing cadence. “One day you’ll have enough movement back to flip her off.”

He paused, eyes flicking over to you curiously. You had been downtrodden for weeks, too, and he hadn’t expected a joke. He chuckled appreciatively. You wished the good moments lasted longer these days.

It wasn’t as though his life had ended, even if his full cosmetic recovery would take a little longer than he hoped, and even if he was bedridden for several more months. It was that sharp mind and wit that made you fall in love with him, and he still had that. He could keep you entertained for hours discussing some arcane piece of trivia or sharing lurid gossip. Since he was cut off from his normal sources of scuttlebutt, you kept him updated on all the latest rumors you’d learned over dinner with Jack Crawford—about the shitstorm he’d brought down on himself at the FBI when Will Graham went rogue, how Alana and her wife fled the country (but you heard they might be in Cuba), Freddie Lounds being sued again. He always enjoyed hearing about other people’s misfortunes, but today it just made him jealous that you’d been spending time with Jack.

“You have both recently lost a spouse. What comfort you must take in each other,” he insinuated.

“I haven’t lost you, Frederick.”

You went into that sentence thinking you were convincing him that you loved him, but as it closed, you realized you were desperate to convince yourself he wasn’t gone. The more you tried to hold him close, the more you felt him pulling away, and felt a creeping dread that even if he got better, you would lose him. Everything you tried to say to reassure him only made him feel worse, and you wondered if it was your fault. Someone more capable, more empathetic, would know the right things to say. You were a failure. He deserved more.

His professional life, too, hadn’t ended. His injury would barely be a bump in the road to his writing career if he wasn’t so stubborn and prideful. The publisher offered to send a ghostwriter to finish The Dragon Slayer, for which they greedily anticipated a significant boost in sales, considering the author’s headline-making personal involvement in the Red Dragon’s end. Frederick, however, refused to be interviewed by “some insipid amateur.” He claimed they would not understand the nuances of psychology required, and stood firm on the grounds of “artistic integrity,” but the truth was, he did not want anybody else to see him.

His face had not made it into the papers, despite several attempts by Freddie Lounds to sneak into the hospital with a hidden camera, and he did not want any more of the world than absolutely necessary to know the extent of what the Dragon had done to him. He did not want to see the shock in the writer’s eyes at seeing his disgusting lipless teeth. He did not want a stranger to see him inevitably start drooling the longer he spoke—and he hated repeating himself to people who could not understand his impaired diction.

No. Publishing The Dragon Slayer would have to wait, though the possibility of another author beating him to the punch bothered him nearly as much as his missing lips. After an entire month recuperating, he thought he would at least be able to type again, but he could barely move his gauze-mittened fingers.

The world had not forgotten him, evidenced by the occasional fan-mail the publisher forwarded to him. You would bring them in and read them—a lot of get-well-soons, and entreaties to hear his side of the Francis Dolarhyde story. A lot of them were from professionals and students in the psychiatric field, pointing out errors or suggesting contradictory theories. Those were the most fun to read, because Frederick would come alive with indignation, debating with the letter as if its sender could hear him, sometimes making you send a response, seething with superiority as he dictated.

In those brief moments, it was like having the old Frederick back. Then a nurse would come in and need to run a test, or feed him, or something else that embarrassed him back into his shell of anger. Or he would grow too animated and rip one of his grafts, and his zeal for argument would end precipitously with a scream, and a surgeon.

As you shuffled a handful of addressed envelopes and started reading through the latest batch of strangers wishing him a healthy recovery, you were struck by a thought.

“Why haven’t I met your family?”

The wind caught in his throat. His scabbed-over nostrils flared before he answered, “I doubt that is what the letter reads.”

“They never visit, even when… even when you could have died. My parents even flew in that first week, when they heard. They helped me with the flowers. Why do your fans send more condolences than your family?”

Gritting ones teeth does not come easily when ones teeth are constantly bared by default, but Frederick grit his teeth. “My mother is old. She can hardly be expected to travel.”

A plausible answer, but not the full story. His discomfort with the subject only spurred your curiosity. All the time you’d been together, you had simply accepted Frederick as an individual, with no need for a childhood backstory or a group of others sharing his features and last name to complete him. You’d gathered, in snippets, that their relationship was not the best, and were satisfied to leave it alone. But he nearly died. The nurse who asked you about his next of kin looked so confused when you had no one you could contact, and it made you feel foolish for never having asked.

“It’s just, we’re going to be married.”

“So?” he said, a hard, mocking edge to his voice.

“So, if I’m going to be part of your family, isn’t it weird that I’ve never met them?”

Instead of answering directly, he snarled, “Look somewhere else.”

“I wasn’t staring!”

“Look. Somewhere. Else.”

You huffed, and sat back in your uncomfortable plastic chair whose unpadded seat bruised your butt after countless hours, crossing your arms. The box full of anger was overstuffed. You shoved its contents down like clothing in a suitcase to squeeze one more sting of hurt inside, but it began to overflow. “I swear I don’t stare at your face any more than I used to,” you muttered aloud what was supposed to remain a thought, “but now every interaction needs to be a carefully calculated balance between not looking at you enough to feel gawked at, and not not-looking enough to make you feel like I’m averting my eyes from your horrible face.” At the word “horrible,” you wiggled your fingers and wavered your voice the way the vampire running a children’s haunted house would say the word “spooky.”

“I am sorry my suffering is so inconvenient for you,” he said in clipped, cold syllables, and you knew you’d pushed him too far.

“I’m just saying, you know I don’t care about your face. You’re acting the same way as when you got shot, and you got over that. You know I still think you’re beautiful. Can’t you give me some credit and just stop freaking out?”

Being stuck in a hospital bed with limited range of motion, he had few resources with which to express anger, but his chest rose and fell and his breath hissed like steam through his nose. “You...” he seethed. “You never care about the pain I suffer, do you? You, in your fantasy world where you accept my injuries and make it all better—you have no idea what it is like to be violated. To have your body ripped apart! It is not a thing one ‘gets over.’ Beautiful? That is rich coming from one who would not know how to tuck in a shirt without my guidance. It must be lovely in whatever quaint children’s storybook your mind inhabits, but in the real world, appearance matters. It matters to me. Your fetish does not stop every sane individual from seeing ugliness. You believe I should be delighted to have a partner who calls ugliness beauty and trivializes my grief? I should have had you analyzed years ago—my judgment was compromised by my relationship with you. I could not see. Your attachment increases with my physical deterioration. You prefer me broken.”

“That… that isn’t true! How dare—”

“You could barely tolerate me before Abel Gideon took my kidney. I was shot in the face and suddenly you professed your love. What shall it be this time? Ah, yes—marriage. You must be elated.” He rolled the words over his tongue in that distinctively upper-class way that was almost musical, yet bone-cuttingly brutal.

“Stop. This had nothing to do with it—you proposed to me!”

His eyes had been flashing with energy behind the bandages as you argued, but all the anger in them vanished like a message written in steam on a bathroom mirror. They took on a dull, blank glaze.

“Then I take it back,” he said. You wished you believed he meant the accusation. His head shifted toward you, but his dull stare seemed to look right through you to the door. “The engagement is over.”

Your throat dried up. “You don’t mean that,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

“I will not be with one who gains pleasure from my mutilation. Get out of my room. There are some amputees over in the rehabilitation ward; go explore your fetishes elsewhere.”

He couldn’t be serious, and yet there was no hint of sarcasm or hyperbole in his flat tone. He meant it. You were surprised to find that you weren’t sad. Your hands began trembling uncontrollably, the tiny convulsions working their way from your extremities to your shoulders, tightly clenching in your gut, but it wasn’t sadness. The overfilled box tore open at the seams, exploding its pressurized contents, and weeks of frustration shattered against the walls and cascaded out over the floor.

“Fine!” you stood up from the hated plastic chair so sharply it scraped across the laminate floor and tipped over backward. “I can’t put up with a second more of this, anyway! I can’t keep walking on eggshells waiting for you to snap—if this is the way it’s going to be from now on, then marrying you would be a nightmare.”

If you had seen him flinch as if your words had physically wounded him, then you might have stopped shouting. A surge of pity might have overwhelmed you, and you might have broken down sobbing. He might not have been able to go through with it, then. Seeing you blubbering with heavy, hot tears rolling down your face, he might have said he was sorry, like he wished he could have said if only he were not so much like his father.

But you were too angry to look at him, and you didn’t see him flinch.

So a moment later when your back was in the doorway, instead of I’m sorry, he said, “Keep the ring. Sell it, and get a new apartment. Do not come back.”

“Fuck you!”

#Frederick Chilton x reader #frederick chilton #Raúl Esparza #hannibal #angst #my writing #and now as a reward I finally get to read beccabarba's Chilton fic :D

[spirit-shroud]

what are some roles that have been largely changed for cityrune? since you said queen was an influencer now :]

hi ty for asking me im vibrating. havent gotten to talk about this au now for three years and now that chapter 2 is like real and this time i can like........draw occasionally and i have more understanding of nuance...... [grips table] [screams]

this isnt quite what you asked but heres what's everyone from chapter 1 has been Up To with a little bit of context (and under a read more bc it got LENGTHY):

kris - professional stay at home teen (they live w/ asgore n help run the flower shop sometimes. this decision was entirely bc i dont like toriel). was wrongly diagnosed w Sudden Soul Rejection when they were incredibly young and given an experimental transplanted soul as a replacement. it works for them fine, give or take having to see gaster once a month for checkups. but sometimes the soul makes them skittish n decides they're going to sit in front of the pc and play 30 consecutive hours of a certain simulation game and not even let them drown people in the pool. if it were entirely up to them, they'd be like. passing out on the sofa to documentaries about bigfoot. or practicing cool knife tricks to impress their friends at their next tabletop meetup

- EDITED IN: the soul is kind of their friend. they are wearing a hypothetical get along shirt. most of the time, they agree on actions and things to do. tends to refer to themself + their soul as we/us which originally was just something they did in their head but they kept slipping in speech/text n just became a Thing of how they talk. switches to 'I/Me' whenever smth is wrong.

- also edited in: they believe the soul they have is their original soul bc nobody has told them otherwise. whenever theyre like 'oh yeah we think about our soul n view it as a separate entity to us like. all the time. it likes to hurt if we make too many choices it doesn't seem to like and kind of forces us to be a toned down version of what we want to be but thats just how souls are haha' and everyone is like.... 'Hey Kris That's Really Not How It Is.' theyre like. 'huh. gonna ignore that for now' - this was going to be a plot point

toriel - head of H0MEWOR1D (H01)'s department of education; kind of lost her roots as a simple math teacher as she was pushed into a lot of power she didn't even really seek out. divorced asgore over some miscommunications in their relationship; also loosely as a result of grief from asriel's death

asgore - the same. runs a lil flower/gift shop. people come in more to talk with him than to buy flowers most of the time, though

asriel Flowey - he's back in flower form, thanks to the government an accident. causes a lot of technology glitches wherever he goes, and wants revenge. isn't sure how to go about it. asriel "died" around 8 years before the story takes place and kris still misses him and refuses to even THINK about even the IDEA of calling someone their sibling after what happened, just in case it somehow happens a second time

susie - more of the same really. she spends most of her time either at grillby's (she's sort of become his assistant n helps with opening/closing. it just happened) or getting into low-stakes trouble w/ kris

noelle - she's in the city's equivalent of college and shes so tired. shes So Abysmally Tired n got kinda pushed 2 follow in her mom's footsteps. she's rarely around anymore except through text or on monsters & mages (dnd) night. (however.........she will come back w/ a long break n hang out w everyone again)

berdly - tbh i didnt even consider berdly when i made the au initially. idk what he's doing. probably in a similar situation to noelle??? canonically got kicked out of the M&M group due to clashes w/ other players but lurks in their group chat to posts memes sometimes

didnt rly think of any other of kris' classmates (+ their families) after ch1 and probably will continue to not, until chs 3-5 come out and i gotta whip up roles and histories for like. a lotta guys all of a sudden. i also forgot about noelle's parents

sans - runs a convenience store that everyone kind of thinks is a front, but also it has really cheap snacks and the local teens make a point of stopping there after school. so essentially, more of the same papyrus - similar to ut. is a very polite and sweet boy but you'll know when he's coming

grillby - he's back. he runs a bar like back in ut but the cozy vibes and weird-for-a-bar hours keep attracting kids who need parents, so half of his menu is comprised of overly sweet mocktails. usually only frequented by monsters

QC - same as usual. has a "rivalry" with grillbz but, theyre besties and have a book club

mettaton - he's real and he's back. he's similar to how he is back in ut w/ his EX body. likes to hang out at grillby's and talk to unsuspecting fans. has a show for everything

napstablook - similar to how they are in ut. helps mtt with making music sometimes. doesn't leave the house too often, but spends a lot of time posting on undernet

undyne - unfortunately. more of the same. she is a cop in the monster district. i am also upset by this but couldn't think of anything better for her

alphys - a doctor studying under dr. gaster in the hopes she'll one day take over his research. she spends most of her time as a nurse with a bigger title, though, and blocks out the weirdness of her job with anime.

gaster - weird guy. H01's top soul researcher and resident House wannabe. trying to manufacture the ultimate soul that can be controlled with simple internal switches, but so far he's only had 1 (very limited) success with a certain human. monsters just melt, and darkners just sorta......get weird... he's onto Something, though.

ralsei - lonely boy with some very strange hobbies. popular on UnderNet for poetry, baking videos, and general cryptid vibe. is the DM for the monsters & mages group (also seems to think everything is actually very fine in H01 when it is very much not)

lancer - about the same. professional Round Boy. lives w/ rouxls full time. follows susie around like a lost puppy and calls himself her "underling."

rouxls - runs a hotel/casino kind of deal where the objective Bad Guys hang out, and usually ends up doing any of the spade king's paperwork.

spade king - mafia godfather. kind of a dick. don't play cards with him

seam - works with the spade king as his right hand cat more or less because they have for a lot of years and are in that 'sunk cost fallacy' zone. thinks of retiring to a quiet life in the monster section of town like, daily

jevil - used to work with the spade king, but got imprisoned for Crimes. got weird after The Accident (separate from asriel's accident)

temmies (all) - dont really get mentioned except offhandedly but they run the monster space station. so far, are the only monsters who have ever been to space.

as far as chapter 2 goes:

yeah i dont have much so far for characters. in the original version of the au i accidentally made darkners as a whole just kinda..... not great? like all sorts of weird organized crime ties n sort of going out of their way to be A Problem to the city (not even in like. a revolution way. in a working against them but with the same goals kinda way). with the whole context it worked At The Time, bc i just had the spade king to look to as a villain, and also in this au the darkners are just trying to survive a world that ultimately was not built for them (that humans think they own, and monsters sort of... seeing this and wondering what it'll mean for them whichever one wins), but w/ new info abt how the dark world works n more guys to work with i want to kind of. edit the vibe a bit. like yea darkners will ultimately do whatever it takes to take over H01, but maybe in a better way than like. idk. all this. it doesnt have to be peaceful or anything it just has to be more adaptable as we meet more kinds of darkners

however yeah i thought up 'queen as some sort of childless mommy blogger/influencer' and that completely revived all memory i had of this au. she should be on mtt's talkshow. also she sells collectible wine glasses w/ her likeness

spamton is another one of gaster's failed soul experiments, but he hasn't melted yet, and seems............fine? sort of. so he hasn't gotten decommissioned yet. he does want to give you malware tho. hot monster singles in your area n all that

im blanking on the rest of the guys but i hope any of this was comprehensible

#kc takes questions #cityrune au #idk if tumblr still autotags things but if it does i am SORRY