#just like the one i gave the music meister

[mxtantrights]

famous dc!au (dick's version)

TRACK TEN: CAN I HAVE THIS DANCE

It felt like every other hour you were seeing links to gossip rags about Dick and Zantanna. It was mostly your fault, once you click on one link they all start popping up and finding their way to you. You shouldn’t have clicked it in the first place. But you can’t really help yourself. 

Seeing him with her only made you a thousand percent sure that he didn’t have any romantic feelings for you whatsoever.

You fix the white dress robe that’s laid on your body one more time. Then you put your phone into your bag and walk over to set. This time is a bit different. The video is more elaborate you think. The director gave you the general idea of it, but she also said it would make more sense after adding effects and stuff to it. 

You would be dressed as a Grecian person. And, as if the world wasn’t already throwing you for a spin, Dick would be Apollo. All that you know about the greek god, you knew Dick was anything but that. Yes he was good looking and yes he’s had several relationships. But the version you learned about was cruel and manipulative. Dick was never that.

You walk onto the soundstage for the day. It was nothing but a painted blue sky with clouds. It didn’t look cartoonish, more realistic. You couldn’t help to look around in awe.

-

Dick walks onto set and sees you glancing around. Your eyes full of wonder and your mouth ajar. He stays right in his place, not wanting to disturb you. He’s scared. Scared that he might slip up and say something about his feelings for you. Or that he might just make a total fool of himself. Or both. Honesty both happening at the same time would be more his style and would send him to an early grave.

A tall PA comes up to him and gives him the run down of what todays’ shoot entails. Honestly he wasn’t paying attention when his team explained to him the video concept. He knows he’s in good hands. Directing his video this time around is The Music Meister. He’s well known for getting the video to go along with the lyrics and the temp of the song. 

Your eyes find his and you smile. But it doesn’t seem to reach your cheeks like it usually does. Dick wonders if something is upsetting you. He wonders if he can even ask you in this capacity. Would that be weird? Surely he can ask in a friendly and non-overreaching way. Yeah, he can do that.

He waves at you, and you wave back at him. Then a makeup assistant is pulling you in another direction. He watches as you go and then looks over at the PA who has seemingly stopped talking. Dick lets out a strangled breath. The PA probably just saw him drool after you, he wants to hit himself over the head.

“I’m sorry about that—“ Dick starts. “Nah, no worries. You’re just getting into the headspace. That’s fine.” The PA says.

And Dick can’t tell if the assistant actually believes that or is just giving him an out. Either way Dick is happy about it and smiles and nods. The PA decides not o pursue the object of getting him the details about the shoot and just walks away with a smile. 

-

If it wasn’t enough to have to see Dick during the day, you have to see him at night too. It’s not like you hate him now. On the contrary hating him would be easier than—you know. But right now you have feelings for him that aren’t going anywhere anytime soon and the dace instructor is telling you to lean your body onto his.

You let out a chocked breath and follow instructions.

“If this—I know this isn’t something you signed up for so if you’re uncomfortable we can ask for a change in the video.” Dick whispers to you.

You can only really hear him because he’s this close. His voice goes straight to your ears above the noise of the music playing in the background and the instructors directions. 

You shake you head, “I’m good. I’ve just never done this before.” 

The instructor tells you to toss your head back and for Dick to position his arms around your waist. The directions make you want to upchuck with how nervous you’re getting. You can see why Dick would think you’re uncomfortable. You slowly extend your head back as you feel his hands on your left and right sides. 

You hadn’t realized how good he is at holding something. It’s weird. It’s not something you should be thinking about, but it is. Dick Grayson is holding you from losing your balance and you feel like he’s never going drop you. 

You let out a breath, knowing that you had been holding it here and there with being this close to him like this. You can practically feel him breathing on your neck.

The only other man in the room directs Dick to drag a finger up the curve of your front, from your stomach to your neck. Your eyes go wide as you feel it happen and all of a sudden you’re giggling and pulling your head back up. 

You slap your hand over your mouth. You can’t believe you just did that. You remove your hand and look at the instructor and Dick. “I’m so sorry—I’m really ticklish I should’ve said something about that before we started.” You admit.

Dick looks to the man, “can you give us a sec?”

The man leave the two of you, holding his hand up to signal it’s a five minute break. Dick then turns to you with a smile.

“It’s okay. I should’ve asked before I went and followed his directions.” Dick says.

You clear your throat, “Well, I’ll tell you now that I’m ticklish, I can be pretty flexible and I like to crack my joints sometimes.” 

Dick laughs at that, “These are all good things to know.”

You smile.

-

This smile is different. Dick feels like a weirdo for knowing this, for knowing how your smile goes past your cheeks and both rows of your teeth show and your nose moves. He knows these things and he feels like a lovesick puppy. 

“That’s a nice view.” he says.

Of course he doesn’t mean to say it. It just falls out of his mouth. If Damian and Jason were here, they would scold him. Or, Damian would scold him for just flirting like the back of his hand and Jason would scold him for using such a cheesy line. 

But he means it. 

The smiles you set his way easier today weren’t real. He knows it. 

“What is?” you ask.

“Your smile. I don’t know I just,” Dick scratches the back of his neck, “earlier it seemed like something was eating at you.” 

You rolls your shoulders at his words. The boy wonder wonders if he’s struck a nerve. When he hears the small puff of air you let pass between your lips he definitely thinks he said something wrong.

“I mean something is, but it’s just hard to talk about.” you answer.

Dick nods his head, “I’m here if you wanna talk, or not talk.”

There is a silence between the two of you. Dick knows how that sounded and puts his hands up in surrender, his brain can’t make the words fast enough. It’s only when you let out a hearty laugh that he realizes he can calm down a bit. God, your laugh.

“Promiscuous.” you tease.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean that like—I meant like we could hang out and not talk about it. Like go to the aquarium again.” Dick replies.

“I understood what you meant. And yeah we can hang out again for sure.”

And before he can say anything to that, the dance instructor comes over to you two and claps his hand once, asking you to take positions again. Dick bites his tongue and turns to you fully. You place yourself right in his hold this time, your eyes sparkling. Like you might laugh again if he were to drag his hand up your front but you wouldn’t mind it. He wouldn’t mind it either.

#dc imagine #dick Grayson x reader #dick Grayson imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dick Grayson x you #dc fic #dick Grayson #dc #famous dc! au (dick’s version)

[insomniac-jay]

Music Meister Backstory Headcanon

Until (and even after) we get an in depth backstory for my boy, I'm going with the one I made up

TW mentions of abuse

Music Meister was born Darius Benoit Chapel in Louisiana to Fontenot Chapel, a well respected pastor at the local church, and Lisette Chapel, a former Broadway actress, in the West Baton Rogue Parish. He had an unusual eye color, leading to whispers and rumors of cheating from the community, putting a strain on Fontenot and Lisette's already fragile marriage.

Growing up, Darius always heard stories of Lisette's days as a musical theater star and wanted to be just like her.

Lisette began teaching him how to sing, dance, and act; but his dad had different plans.

Fontenot was a very intimidating man who kept Darius on a tight leash (partially because he was still burned from the cheating rumors) to the point where it was borderline abuse. A Bible thumper who reigned over his house in a very biblical way (i.e. "Spare the rod, spoil the child") and strict way. Every time Darius harmed his father's image in anyway, he was harshly punished.

Fontenot did, however, allow Darius to sing in the church's choir for a brief period before he got kicked off.

In retaliation, Lisette had Darius join his elementary school's choir, where he excelled as a musical prodigy. A decision that both Lisette and Fontenot got into an argument turned physical altercation over.

Enraged at her husband and fearful for both her and her son's safety, Lisette and Darius ran away to her hometown of Houma to live with her parents.

As the story goes, Darius was picked on by bullies because he sang in choir, which led to him discovering his Metahuman powers.

In middle school, he joined both marching band and theater--much to Lisette's joy. Not for long, though, as Fontenot found them and threatened to take Lisette to court for kidnapping their son if she didn't hand Darius over to him.

Having no choice, Lisette gave Darius to his father. Back under his authoritarian household and put on an even tighter leash, Darius and Fontenot's relationship deteriorated into toxicity. To cope, Darius began getting into trouble as a form of rebellion by using his powers, gathering up a string of misdemeanors for petty theft.

Fontenot caught wind of this and used even harsher, more abusive punishments. I mean very abusive. Everything came to ahead when Darius found out why his father treated him so cruelly.

Darius and Fontenot got into a huge argument, causing the older Chapel to up slapp Darius so hard that his vision went white. This caused Darius to snap and use his powers on his father and made him severely injure himself.

Having nowhere left to go, Darius left Louisiana when he was 19.

#dc comics #darius chapel #music meister

[serenity-songbird]

Can you do Male!Crona with a femboy S/O? Like I’m talkin’ full on maid dresses and nurse outfits as their daily clothes, and black shiny lesther dresses.

👀👀👀 You had me at Crona.

The day you met Crona was at the Maid Cafe where you worked.

Maka was your cousin, but unlike her you were neither Meister or Weapon.

Nope. You were just a regular human being.

Not scary or threatening at all.

Maka and her friends would often come to your workplace, both for the food and company.

When Crona first joined the DWMA he was intimidated by all the...unique...people who attended.

Maka at least wanted Crona to not be afraid of someone.

So you were the first person to come to mind.

When Maka came in dragging a pink haired boy wearing a dress, you reacted normally.

And by normally, I mean, you literally thought he was the most adorable human being on the planet.

Cinnamon roll sighted. Must protect.

When you walked up to him in your maid outfit and talked excitedly, Crona did his, "I don't know how to dream with this? W-why is a boy wearing a dress?!"

...

"But, you're wearing a dress too." You replied bluntly pointing at his clothing.

"N-No? It's not a dress...It's a robe"

You stared him up and down.

"Yeah sure. Whatever you say."

You friendly and welcoming aura lured him in and soon you were fast friends.

Crona was suprised that he felt comfortable around you.

You and Maka may have be very different, but you both have the same, welcoming wave length and he wasn't afraid when you were around.

Ragnorok would call you names and ridule you on your clothing choices.

Crona didn't like that and, once again, stood up to him and telling him to Apologize. (He didn't and gave Crona a few punches. You had to come between them.

Recently, Crona started getting a fuzzy feeling when you were around.

His heart would pound in his chest and his body would get hot.

He started blushing, stuttering, and wanting to be around you more.

He didn't know how to deal with it.

He asked Maka for advice and Maka giggled and told him he was in love.

Love?!?!?!

Something inside him broke and tears ran down his face.

Maka, shocked, had to calm him down.

All his life he had known nothing but despair, disappointment, fear, and hate.

But now...He was in love.

He had fallen in love with someone and he was happy.

Is this what love is?

Crona knew nothing about relationships.

Maka, ( and Blair and Soul who were eavesdropping) decided to help there confused friend.

Kid was hosting a party and everyone was invited.

The plan to get you together would take place there.

Soon, Kid, Liz, and Tsubaki come in on the plan. (Black star and Patty were not told because they would probably just ruin the place. And expose them).

When you walked in wearing a slick black leather dress with dragon earrings and a crystal necklace, Crona couldn't looked away and became frozen on he spot.

You locked eyes with him and smiled.

He didn't know it was possible to turn into a puddle before this moment.

The plan was set in motion.

Every chance there was, all involved in the plan would throw you both at each other.

Whenever you were together, romantic music would play, someone would "accidently" bump into you pushing you closer together, and they would let you two have alone time.

Honestly, it was so obvious what they were doing, you caught on right away.

Maka wasn't as subtle as she thought she was.

You wasted no time to confront Crona who, embarrassed, stuttered out apologies.

You kissed him to stop his rambling.

He was too cute.

When you were together, you'd sometimes dress him up in matching outfits.

Cute poofy dresses, tight fitting black tie dresses, pink dresses with flowers, you name it.

Yours and his favorite outfit was the nurse one.

Whenever he was sick, you'd dress up as a nurse to take care of him.

You loved his blush whenever he saw you.

You helped Crona feel more confident in his skin regardless of what he wore.

He appreciated you and loved you for it.

Thank you for being his. 💜💜💜

#soul eater headcanons #crona soul eater #soul eater #male x male #femboy #crona x reader

[batmanrogues-scenarios]

Riddler, Black mask, mad hatter, and music meister with a villain crush who's very responsive of their advances

If they ever flirt with their crush they'll fucking close their mouth with one of their hands as a huge blush would cover their face

If they give them a gift, if it's a accessory crush would wear it happily in their villain form

Be subtly affectionate with crush? Yeah, they're not fine. "WHO- WHO'S?? YOU- I- WHAT????" + flustered expression, is what happens to crush when they do it, to shorten it out, they're fucking malfunctioning

Crush is normally normal and very comfy around them but when they show their feelings to crush?

Crush is gone. Dead. Is fucking screaming. They're fading away. THEY DON'T KNOW HOW TO RESPOND TO THEIR ADVANCES EVEN THOUGH THEY ALSO LOVE THEM

I swear I saw this way of asking on quandaryqueen are you the same anon? And if not then sorry, still your ask is absolut tooth rooting fluff!

Riddler

Super happy when he sees their reaction, that means he has chance

Smiles when he sees them wearing earring he gave them

Surprised by their reaction, he enjoys flirting but worries they might be uncomfortable

That is until Crush says they do enjoy his company they just have hard time processing emotions

Really likes talking with them so he decides to ask them out

Even if they don't know how to express themselves he feels he gets them

Black Mask

Absolutely fucking loves it

Seeing them cover their face flirting gives him huge grin

After seeing they're wearing things he's given them he would just give more until Crush need to change accessories on their every appearence

It's even worse in his case cause seeing how their reacting he wouldn't be subtle at all so Crush just fucking faints

Which is why he is suprised how normal they are in their conversation

There's no way they would only be crush after that, he is putting ring on them

Mad Hatter

So happy! His Alice finally regognise his attempts

They wore the dress he gave them! He is already in love but it makes his love even stronger

Listen, he has exactly same reaction so it just two of them not being able to say a word

Is suprised they can talk to him normally looking at their flirt reactions but at least he can talk about his books

Yeah he asks them about being Alice

Music Meister

He is romantic, he loves their reactions

Seeing they wear what he gives them he tries to find accessories that would feat with their rogue outfit

Loves sweeping them off their

He is the guy that would serenade them at 2am, Crush still falls even though they're slept deprivated

Loves talking with them about new musicals, ask them to go with to see one as a date

#riddler x reader #mad hatter x reader #black mask x reader #music meister x reader #pati writes

[itsmalachitenow]

Harmony Nikola

ANOTHER BATMAN OC? Who’d have thought! She manipulates people through music, but instead of her voice, it’s her instruments.

She went to the same high school as the Music Meister. He had choir, and she had band...but they both had theater. 

Flamboyant, bubbly, and friendly, Harmony cares more about the spectacle than villainy! She only terrorized Gotham because she was a bored rich kid with nothing better to do! ....well, terrorize is a bit of a strong word....she did orchestrate some crimes here and there through her songs, but it’s not like anybody died! She just wanted some excitement! She thought Batman doing the Carlton was something everyone would want to see.

She has the same cell next to Music Meister in Arkham now, and the two of them are going to make everyone else’s lives hell by being theater kids.

#Harmony Nikola #Music Meister #Batman #my art #her name is a pun #just like the one i gave the music meister

[magicamcheck]

I finally unlocked Rouge's final past memory so here is a more thorough summary of his backstory ♡♡

Rouge came from a wealthy family in Vox, with his dad being a renowned musician. As such, music was a huge part of Rouge's life too. He learned to read sheet music before he could do basic maths, and he always preferred to learn directly from his dad rather than the books. It was his dream to reach his father's level of skill.

All he wanted to do was absorb himself in music all day, which meant shirking out of all his schoolwork. His tutor would have to chase him around the property yelling for him to stop singing and focus! And the dad totally enabled him—if he was present, he just would tell the tutor to give Rouge a break & let him sing one more song 🎵

One day when he was 13, he noticed his voice started to crack. At first he thought something was wrong with his throat but then he realized it's probably puberty, so he shrugged it off and said he'd get used to it. He didn't like how deep it was getting since he used to be a soprano, but he kept his head up and decided this was OK, he'll just train to be a good baritone! It's like changing an instrument. Now the doorway was open for him to sing a bunch of new styles of songs he could never sing before.

But his dad didn't agree 💀 He called Rouge to their living room one day alone, and told him: "Your voice is a gift from the heavens. You cannot allow a voice change to take away that priceless, unparalleled voice of yours."

Dad wanted to take him to an innovative doctor before Rouge's vocal chords could finish transitioning, so that they could cut them out, "temporarily preserve them", and return them when the time was right. And of course he tried to reason by saying this was all for Rouge's sake, not his.

Rouge tried to make a dash for it and his dad clawed at his throat with his nails, hard enough to draw blood but not so deep that it was fatal. He was able to make it outside, crossed a moonroad, and ended up in an unknown country.

Exhausted from running for so long, he sat down for a very long time. He was hungry, had no money, and his clothes were a wreck. Eventually he decided he'd try to sing to make some tips, since he'd always been able to attract crowds with his singing voice. But when he tried to open his mouth, his dad's words flashed through his head again and he threw up. Any time he tried to sing thereafter, the sensation of his dad's fingers caressing his throat would resurface. He just couldn't do it. The chapter ended with him letting the rain envelop him.

He lived in that town for seven years. Although he thought he'd never be able to sing again, as time passed he slowly healed from being haunted by the illusion of his father and picked it up as a way to make money.

He was surrounded by people who gave him their pity and he had drinking buddies who encouraged him to take the meister exam. He passed and officially became a playing bard meister, but the achievement didn't really change his life much. He was still a drifter, singing as he pleased around town, sometimes lodging with random people passing through, and sometimes camping outdoors. He never formed any deep relationships and spent away his money as soon as he got it. But, he was satisfied with this lifestyle.

Then one day, he got to the bar a bit later than usual. His buddies told him that one of them had won a shitton of money from a bet so all drinks would be on them. Needless to say the night ended with Rouge absolutely wasted 🤪

This wound up being the same night he met Grandflair, who found him stumbling around outside the bar. Gran immediately stopped in his tracks to give him a handkerchief and some water. Rouge thought he was shady asf but this guy was just genuinely trying to take care of him. He said that in all seven years of living here, he had never met someone who showed him that much kindness.

Gran told him about how he's taking care of a guild called the Moon Wanderers, and Rouge's first thought was to mock him for it: "So playing pretend family, huh? Sounds like a blast." But Gran replied dead serious that yeah it's a lot of fun! Cue a mini speech about how much he loves his guild. That knocked Rouge off balance for a second but then he asked if he could join it too. He didn't really know what prompted him to ask that— maybe it was jealousy, or yearning, or as a joke, or just out of curiosity. Gran could recognize that Rouge was a meister, so he agreed! And the rest is history. (*´꒳`*)

#yumekuro #yume shokunin to wasureji no kuroi yousei #dream meister and the recollected black fairy #yumekuro spoilers #ymkr

[chichirichick]

SoMa Day 5: Domestic

This one's coming in a little later than I normally post but I still made it! Please enjoy my @soulxmakaweek entry for Day 5! Laundry has never ended so sweetly. Read it on ff.net, ao3, or after the cut!

"Can you please stop tapping?"

Soul stopped the steady rhythm of both his feet and his fingers. "I'm bored," he groaned back as he slid against the back of the chair. In a daring move, his forehead thunked exhaustedly to her shoulder.

"Here." Maka rummaged through her bag, taking out a second paperback and shoving it under his nose.

"No," he elongated the vowel in agony. "Reading sucks."

"Says you," she snapped back before tapping his cheek with the spine. "Why didn't you bring your headphones?"

'Cause I kinda wanted to listen to you… He let that thought drift by as he tilted his chin slightly. The closeness was a bit of bravery, but there was something about doing these homey things with her that always stirred the want. "Broke 'em."

"Another one?" Maka rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Soul, that's like the third this month. For a man who loves music…"

"Real music is better without headphones," he grumbled in return. He could see the goosebumps on her neck from his breath, and he paused, waiting for her to clear him away from his spot.

"Like this?" Maka wiggled a finger up at the busted boombox, one speaker settled askew on top of the line of dryers. It was spewing a piss-poor copycat of Kenny G.

"Oh, this is grade A." His smirk glowed, flashing those sharky teeth. "You don't like it?"

Maka snorted.

"C'mon." Soul nudged his cheek a little more firmly into her shoulder. "Dance with me."

"Here?" Maka glanced around the dilapidated laundromat incredulously.

There were two other late-night launderers, one with his face in his newspaper and the other scrolling through her phone in ennui. The rest of the scratched linoleum or half-broken chairs were empty of life.

"Save me here, Maks. I'm dyin' of boredom." He pulled out the big guns, that pleading stare that thankfully birthed a smidge of weakness in her. He latched on to it along with her hand, getting up from his seat to pull her with him. It was easy to slip her into position, just reliving that black room again.

Maka let him coax her into slow waltzing steps between the washer-dryer sets and the seats. Her smile blossomed almost immediately, but the giggle that followed took time, building as he twirled her until she couldn't hold it.

"What's funny?" The sweet sound broke Soul's concentration.

"It's weird," Maka paused to let another laugh flutter. "You get sort of happy when we're doing housework stuff."

"I feel like you're insinuating me being happy is weird…" Soul leveled a glare at her, promoting more giggles that pressed into his heart. "But yeah, sure, I like this stuff."

There was a tenuousness to their connection, a blip on the line from soul to soul as they revolved again. It was just long enough for Maka to nibble into her lip before asking simply, "Why?"

This was the spot for an obligatory shrug- the kind that killed conversation like a lightning strike. Except… that mood struck him again, the one that was starting to get undeniable every time he was near her. "Well, never did it back at home… had maids and stuff for that so when I got here it was kinda like I wanted to learn it in order to let go of all that Evans bullshit."

Maka was blinking up at him, absorbed with hearing another piece of his truth. It was always hard to tear them away from him and when he offered them, she always seemed entirely immersed, dying for the next word.

"'cept that stuff sorta sucks," he added with a throaty chuckle.

"But you like it," she corrected softly.

"Uh…" Soul let that rumble in his throat for a second. "Yeah, now. That didn't happen 'til you came along."

Her eyelashes fluttered wide, that deep green blooming in surprise.

"Sorta… I mean, alone, in the apartment, cooking or cleaning- it was just me. Just a chore." He couldn't stand the way she was staring so he broke the moment, forcing her into a twirl that urged a tender laugh from her but didn't ruin her concentration.

Her eyes snapped back to him mercilessly as soon as he had her back in his arms.

"When you moved in- us livin' together… guess I realized what I was really missin' about it in the first place."

Maka's eyebrows furrowed but she didn't speak, didn't offer him an out with interruption.

His fingers tensed in hers as his heart lost the tempo of their movement, a jagged beat reminding him that while it was unnaturally easy to love her, it was so hard for him to somehow piece together the idea of it into words. "Doin' it alone… just feels like somethin' you gotta get done. Doin' it together is just like everythin' else we do- life in harmony." It was no longer a smirk but a nervous smile as he searched her eyes. "'Cause when it's you and me it feels homey, like family."

While his grin faltered, Maka's blossomed. "That is the cheesiest thing you've ever said."

A withering laugh struggled from his throat. "Sorry."

Maka quickly shook her head as the glow on her face continued. "You're right though."

Soul could feel the color creeping up his neck to his ears.

"You are my family, Soul." The sweet lilt of her voice was saturated in such a contented joy that his heart was melting down to his shoes. "I like that you feel that way." The octave trembled just slightly, a little pink of her own dusting her cheeks.

"G-good." He swallowed the stutter as his fingers suddenly became entirely unsettled. The urge hit him to spin her again, but in the next breath, the idea of letting her out of his arms struck him as utter agony. While he sat on the precipice of entirely losing his mind, the dryer buzzed, forcing him a jittery step back.

"Looks like you're done," Maka chimed, letting her hands still drift over his arms in gentle reassurance that bled from her fingers to his soul.

Soul tried to push all his energy into the normalcy of opening the dryer, barely feeling the puff of hot air as it opened in his face because of his already burning blush. He managed to shove every sock and wayward piece of underwear into his laundry basket before shuffling it across the floor back to their chairs. His knees gave up, wobbling as he took a hard seat. She- she likes that I feel that way? Does that-?

Maka settled next to him in the seat. "Are you going back to the apartment?"

"No," he shot back immediately, vexed by the thought.

There was no annoyance on her end, just a soft hum of satisfaction. "Let's make cocoa tonight."

"Cocoa?" Soul snapped out of his headspace, finally losing focus on his spiraling thoughts.

"Yeah." Without hesitation, her fingers were wrapped in his. "Homey, right?"

"S-sure. Maka, I- uh-" Different sentence strings shouted in his head. Family- like, together?

"And a movie. Maybe two even though it's late."

"Uh, yeah, sure. Anythin' you want." Or, brother and sister?

"Anything?"

Soul was too deeply occupied with trying to rein in his mind to hear the playfulness in her voice. Or meister and weapon?

"I can sit however I want on the couch?"

"Yeah." Spit it out!

"And you won't complain when I use you as a pillow?"

"Whatever." Since you were so damn love-drunk that you spilled the other part but not the part that terrifies you!

"And if I ask you- you'll give me a goodnight kiss?"

"Listen, Maka-" He froze, hands already spread in a silent plea as he let her words filter into his head. "Wha-what did you just say?"

A bit of bashfulness caught up with her as her fingers kneaded into his. "A kiss, Soul. If I asked you to, would you?"

There was no foothold for his fear, not with that blush blaring on her cheeks and a tentative smile waited to boom with his answer. His lean was a little too quick, knocking noses with her at first until she tempered him with a soft hand to his cheek. The tempting touch only made it worse, his lips clumsily locking to hers as he tried to steal away every last ounce of the happiness in what she'd said.

"Hey, get a room!" The man had dropped his newspaper and was eyeing them with distaste.

Maka parted them with a twittering laugh, her hand coming over her face to finally give in to a second of the embarrassment.

Soul offered the man a sneer before letting out a quaking laugh of his own. "Maka, that was-"

"Nice," she murmured as she let her hand slip away to reveal a smile.

"Yeah," he sighed out desperately.

She squeezed his hand in hers again, "So, cocoa, a movie, and maybe a little more practice."

#soulxmakaweek #SoMaWeek2021 #Soul Eater #SoMa

[silverdecepticon93]

B, D, J, and O for the fluff alphabet with everyone's favorite dork squad (jon, jervis, dennis, and edward ofc) please ?

My beautiful boys! Is BTAS inspired for Jon, Jervis, and Eddie!

Scarecrow/ Jonathan Crane:

(They need more BTAS Scarecrow gifs)

Beauty- What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Your eyes, that’s his favorite part about you.

Usually when someone looked at him, they had a mocking, disgusted, or fearful look in their eyes but not you. You always stared at him with admiration and love, something that he wasn’t used to.

It also kinda helps that your eyes are the most beautiful shade of (e/c) he had ever seen.

Dreams- How do they picture their future with their s/o?

His scenario is obviously going to include Gotham being rid of it little bat problem but he’d want to get back to teaching again.

And since he has you with him, he might not torture his students with their greatest fears, who knows?

Still, he’d want his job back and maybe a kid with you. The one thing he’s worried about is if the kid looked exactly like him and also got bullied like how Jon used too, so he’d want your child to look more like you.

Jealousy- Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He doesn’t want to admit it but he does get jealous rather easily because he’s aware that he’s not exactly the most attractive or the easiest person to get along with.

He’d seethe angrily as he studies the details of the face of the person who was making him jealous, just in case he ran into him as Scarecrow and give them a face full of fear gas the next time they meet.

He trusts you though and is quite happy and smug when you rebuff at attempts to flirt with you and answer that you already have an amazing boyfriend in your life.

On Cloud Nine- What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

In the crushing phase, people would’ve thought he hated you except you and the rogues could see through that, he was just struggling with his feelings.

He becomes softer and less cold when in a relationship with you, of course, and tries his best to be sympathetic and understanding with you.

He shows his affection in small ways like loving looks and sweet smiles only reserved for you and helping around the house without being asked, you know, the small things that mean a lot.

Mad Hatter/ Jervis Tetch:

(They need more Jervis gifs, I swear-)

Beauty- What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Your smile! He utterly adores your picture-perfect smile!

It brightens his day just seeing it and just loves it if he was the reason you were smiling because it shows your happy with him and that’s all he really wants.

For you to be happy and content with the relationship as he is.

Dreams- How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He’d have Gotham under his control, no bat-themed vigilante to stop him, and no one left to oppose him and everyone giving him the respect he deserves!

You’d be at his side and you certainly wouldn’t be mind controlled, you’ve proven that you’re supportive of Jervis and his endeavours more than enough times.

Would definitely want children with you and would hope that they were just as beautiful and stunning as you were!

Jealousy- Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Jealousy is something he struggles with, he’s a tab bit insecure really and isn’t good at hiding his jealousy even if he wanted to.

As shown by the way he holds your hand, wrap an arm around your waist, or pressing a kiss to your cheek just to make sure the other person got the point.

If someone was hitting on you then it is off with their head! Oops, not his line.

On Cloud Nine- What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It’s painfully obvious, actually, since he’s no good at hiding how he truly feels about you.

Half of the Rogues are just done with him and about how much he talks about you, like seriously, they get it Jervis, you’d die for (Y/n), tell them something they didn’t know.

Never really gets out of the crushing phase with you, actually.

Music Meister/ Dennis Prowell:

(Bam! Fabulous!)

Beauty- What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Your voice obviously, not even just your singing voice but your voice in general, especially since he’d just adore listening to you singing or talking.

Would be able to tell your voice apart from anyone else's, it’s just sorta filtered to him.

He’s rather talkative but he loves hearing you talk, as well, every word and syllable making him fall more and more for you.

Dreams- How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Obviously him being rich and adored for his talents and would totally be married with you and have kids and maybe even a pet.

He’d want three kids, one that looks like him and one that looks like you, and then one that looks like the perfect blend of you both!

All of them would obviously be taught by him how to sing and do choir and drama and just get all the leads and solo-

Yes, he’s put a lot of thought into this.

Jealousy- Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Jealous? What reason would he get jealous for?

At least, that’s what he tells himself, in reality, he can become quite jealous easily. It’s not that he’s insecure, he just doesn’t like your attention off of him.

Would get quite irritable if you’re talking about how amazing someone is even if they’re family, a celebrity crush, or a fictional character.

Feels better if you assure him that he’s got nothing to be jealous of because he’s everything you need and more.

On Cloud Nine- What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Like Jervis, it is so obvious that he likes you and he never really tried hiding it to begin with. If you have his attention, he’ll make sure you know it.

Is still oh-so in love with you even in a relationship and conveys those feelings for you through PDA, affection in general, or just singing about how much he loves you.

Because, boy, does he love you!

The Riddler/ Edward Nygma:

(I will never get tired of using this gif...)

Beauty- What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Your intellect of course! After all, you’d have to be clever and smart as Edward but...then there’s your heart.

Your heart that you willingly gave to him and trusted him to never break, your heart that was so full of compassion and kindness and still gave Eddie that unconditional love and admiration he wasn’t used too...

Okay so maybe your intellect and your sweet nature, if you’re talking physical, he loves everything about you.

Dreams- How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Obviously, Batman would be exposed for the sham he is as Edward finally came up with a trap or riddle the dark knight couldn’t solve!

Then he’d like to settle down with you, to marry you and you’d become ‘(Y/n) Nygma’, and leave Gotham City behind to start the next chapter.

Possibly would want a kid, he’s just worried he’d be a bad father like his father before him, but he’d want a kid. Would want it to look a little like both of you.

Jealousy- Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Yes, he does get jealous rather easily. After all, you’re his (Y/n) and his only but sometimes people just can’t seem to grasp that concept.

He just doesn’t want anyone taking you away from him.

He’s going to be very flashy and flamboyant as well as be a little over-the-top when it comes to affection, just to make sure the person got the idea that you’re already with him.

He’s going to deny that he was ever jealous if you asked him about it.

On Cloud Nine- What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It is rather obvious since he can just talk and talk about how perfect and amazing you are and is just a little lovesick puppy around you!

He sees you as his equal, someone in this accursed city that isn’t an idiot or a fool, and actually acknowledges his smarts and wit.

Would express them to you through sweet words, affection, or flat out just telling you how much he’s in love with you. Might even steal you a couple of gifts that he knows you’ll love!

#Scarecrow x reader #Scarecrow x you #Jonathan crane x reader #Jonathan Crane x you #Mad Hatter x reader #Mad Hatter x you #Jervis Tetch x reader #Jervis Tetch x you #Music Miester x reader #Music Miester x you #Dennis Prowell x reader #Dennis Prowell x you #The Riddler x reader #The Riddler x you #Edward Nygma x reader #Edward Nygma x you #Dc x reader #Dc x you #Dc villains x reader #Dc villains x you #BTAS x reader #BTAS x you #DCAU x reader #DCAU x you

[windmill-ghost]

Kai and me just rewatched Mayhem of the Music Meister again and like... it revived the love I used to have for the character... that episode is so good and he’s so good. 

I very much appreciate how they gave him no explanation for him other than “I was a theater kid” like... that’s all the audience needs. We all understand the rage and lust for power simmering beneath the surface of every theater kid. Nothing more dangerous than giving superpowers to one of those twisted beings. 

#wg speaks #THIS IS A JOKE some of my best friends are theater kids #and then we watched the CW Flash music meister episode. just to be angry and dissapointed

[spacesuitsforemergency]

Could I request Tye Longshadow dating a siren (you could do anyone you are familiar with)

A/N: went with a mermaid siren, kinda like the ones from Pirates of the Caribbean cause I really like them! Tye with a siren! gf is so cute like come on

⁃ Basically, you hypnotize people with your singing voice

⁃ You’re basically Music Meister (who you used to be the sidekick of before becoming a hero) but from the ocean

⁃ The league gave you a bracelet so that you could walk on land, you just press a button to get your tail and other siren features again

⁃ Human customs and media are pretty foreign to you, so everyone kinda helps you out with that stuff

⁃ You befriend Kaldur, since you’re both from the ocean

⁃ Then he introduces you to The Outsiders, and you and Tye literally just stare in awe of the other

⁃ ‘Uh...guys?’ Jaime’s just looking between the two of you

⁃ You’re literally the most gorgeous person Tye has ever seen in his life, and you find Tye really hot

⁃ Once you officially join the Outsiders you start hanging out with Tye more and more

⁃ Eventually he gains the courage (with Jaime, Eduardo and Virgil’s help) to ask you out. It doesn’t take more than like 3 dates for you to be a couple

⁃ He thinks it’s cute how clueless you are of stuff that’s so mundane and normal to him like social media and slang

⁃ He’ll make a Little Mermaid reference about you and you’re just like ‘what’s that?’

⁃ Like even he’s seen it, how is it possible you’ve made it this far in life and not seen it?

⁃ The next team movie night you all watch it and you finally get all the jokes and stuff they’ve been saying to you

⁃ You get along great with Asami, you learn American customs together

⁃ When he sees you in the water with your tail for the first time he’s literally speechless

⁃ Like you can be even more gorgeous than before???what??

⁃ ‘Dude are you blushing?’

⁃ ‘No way dude shut up no I’m not I Uh...got sunburnt Yeah’

⁃ ‘It was raining all day yesterday’

⁃ ‘Shut up!’

⁃ When you have missions that are undersea he’ll come with you and mostly likely Kaldur on the boat ride to get you guys where you need to be

⁃ Will lean over the boat and kiss you before you have to go

⁃ You love teaching him stuff about siren culture and general ocean stuff, cause it’s usually him teaching you stuff

#tye longshadow x siren! reader #tye longshadow #tye longshadow x reader #yj runaways #yj outsiders #dc #young justice #request #kaldur'ahm #music meister

[mrevaunit42]

Stability (Soul Eater)

Hey everyone, Mr.E hoping you all had a great week! That's right I am slowly getting back into consistent writing! yay! This is the pseudo sequel to the other piece and I hope you enjoy it. I forgot how much I love writing Soma, they're so much fun.The song referenced is called heart and soul by Hoagy Carmichael, a song I highly recommend giving a hear. That's it for me. Stay safe, wash your hands, wear your masks and have a great week!

Summary:  Alone in their apartment, Maka gets caught up in her thoughts as a thunderstorm rages outside. Reflecting, Maka realizes how much Soul has become a stable constant in her life and how far they've come together.

“Soul’s fine. He’s a death scythe.” Maka murmured softly, pacing back and forth across their cozy apartment flat “He’s just gone to the store. He’s fine. Of course he’s fine. He’s too much of an idiot to do something stupid.”

Maka flinched as the thunder boomed overhead without warning, the windows rattling under the force of the sound.

Maka wasn’t afraid of thunder per say, she just wasn’t a fan.

She sighed tiredly, staring at her haggard appearance in the mirror: Her face sagged and twisted in a worried expression, her signature pigtails were uneven and mismatched lengths while her green eyes seemed dim and lifeless.

She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to focus her wandering thoughts onto something, anything that wasn’t Soul.

It was pretty impressive how deeply her partner managed to insert himself into her entire existence.

They lived together. They worked together. They sat in a comfortable silence together with her reading a book while he scrawled musical notes.

Even her trademark pigtails were a product of Soul’s work rather than hers. Given his usual spiky choice of hair (that took an embarrassingly large amount of hair gel and effort but shh don’t tell anyone) he was better at styling and maintaining it. Maka could barely manage this mess of a hairstyle in the 10 minutes the white haired death scythe had been gone.

Soul, for all his faults and infuriating behavior, was her stability.

Stability.

Maka’s life hadn’t exactly been the smoothest of rides and while she wouldn’t change any of it, she privately admitted it did leave some holes in her upbringing.

Papa, oh lord her papa, might’ve been a womanizer, irresponsible mess of a man but she basked in the quiet pride he treated his role as Lord Death’s personal scythe. When it came down to it, he took his duty to her and the world seriously, refusing to back down even when facing his own demise. A man who was not scum but someone she could respect and admire.

If only he had the rest of his life put together she would be able to show him more respect publicly. Just because he did his job well did not give him an excuse to be lax in his personal choices and responsibility. Even if they are closer after the whole battle to the death on the moon.

Mama, Maka’s hero and role model. Her biggest inspiration and the most respected person in her life. A woman on the highest pedestal Maka could place someone on.

Maka used to say a person who could do no wrong but now that she was older, wiser her mother seemed less like a perfect being and more like a talented yet ultimately flawed parent.

She still admired her strength for leaving her father to pursue her own life, to move forward from a failed marriage with a well meaning but unchanging man. That hadn’t changed.

But

Maka wished she was physically present more. Her post cards, which once were a source of happiness, now were met with conflict. Yes it was nice she was enjoying her time aboard, living her life and completing important work yet Maka felt lonely. She couldn’t recall the last time she held her mother, talked to her longer than a few minutes on a phone call. She had moved forward with her life without her mother and begrudgingly dragging her father.

She followed her mother’s example to the letter growing up: Men were scum, she should rely only on herself and she would create the next death scythe. Maka just added the whole youngest death scythe meister herself. Just as a little personal goal.

Maka grew up fast but she also missed out on a lot of her life: Mama never taught her how to braid her hair, to cook or how to do taxes. Maka learned most of that stuff on her own.

Until Soul came into the picture.

Soul put up an unnecessary cool, distant persona into their partnership at first but he also brought her a gift she never realized she so desperately needed: Stability.

Her world was constant jumble mess of an unrelenting drive and an inability of backing down from any challenge.

Soul, ironically, was the cool and collected of the two despite his questionable decisions from time to time.

She didn’t know what to think about the strange noises he produced with his piano nor did she understand how exposed he left himself to her that night. She just felt drawn to him, a conflicting yet balancing soul to her own. She just felt they would work, that with his help she could achieve anything.

It was an intoxicating feeling to be honest. When she was younger, she assumed it was a freedom he drew out in her. Now she understood it wasn’t freedom, it was comfort. A soothing presence to quell her aching loneliness. A constant in her chaotic life.

No matter what happened: the black blood, the dissonance in their souls, the angelic flight, Soul was there every step of the way, refusing to abandon her like her father, like her mother.

Maka cringed at the memory of the book of Eibon. That had been an embarrassingly low point for her but Soul refused to give up on her. On them.

Her heart skipped a beat and Maka could feel her cheeks burn a bright pink as she remembered Soul’s appearance in the book.

Could it be that he….?

“Maka! I’m home.”

Maka frozen, caught off guard by the trudging figure of Soul, wrapped heavily in a thick jacket with the triple wrapped groceries.

He shivered as the warmth of the apartment washed over him.

“Maka?”

Maka snapped out of her stupor “Here Soul! I was just….”

Soul’s ruby red eyes glanced her way, raising an eyebrow as he took in her appearance.

“Tried making your own pigtails again?” Soul questioned, gently placing the groceries onto the counter.  

Are you okay? Soul asked silently, unable to keep the worry out of his face.

“Y-yeah! I figured I’d give it a shot! It’s embarrassing you still have to do my pigtails. Imagine if Blackstar found out.”

I’m okay she answered without words.

Soul gave a little “Hmph.” as he slipped out of his jacket, hanging it on the coat rack by the door before making his way closer to his meister.

“Here. Before you hurt yourself.” Soul carefully took one of the uneven, messy pigtails in his hand, undoing it while gesturing with his chin “Sofa.”

Maka nodded, sitting cross legged on the floor as Soul took a seat behind her.

Her tense body relaxed as Soul softly ran his fingers through her hair

“Braids or pigtails?”

Maka tilted her head back, staring at her weapon in an upside down fashion.

“Braids? You hate doing braids.”

Soul’s eyes shifted to the side, refusing to look at Maka directly “Yeah they’re a real bitch but I need to make sure I can still do it. Never know when you’re gonna decide to go on a date. No one needs to know you can’t do your own pigtails until after you get married.”

Maka snorted loudly.

“Yeah yeah.” Soul rolled his eyes, carefully twisting her hair into a braid “You say you want to be a spinster but one day you’re gonna find the least scummy guy in existence and be like ‘yeah I think I’m gonna compromise my standards for this one.’”

“Maybe. I hate compromising.” Maka mumbled into her knees.

Soul paused for a moment “No book?” Maka sighed in relief as Soul’s hands returned to work.

“Not today.”

Boom.

The thunder violently rocked the windows once more and Maka shivered under the noise.

“Any requests?” Soul asked, resting his hand on her shoulder.

Maka took his hand in hers, squeezing it tightly as she whispered “You know which one.”

“Alright but don’t get the wrong idea okay? I happen to like singing that one.”

Soul cleared his throat, his hums filling their apartment like a private orchestra just for her. She reached for his soul, a calm warming presence she grew to love.

She closed her eyes as the sounds of a piano played in her ears, the soft keys joining Soul as he sang

“Heart and Soul, I fell in love with you. Heart and Soul, the way a fool would do.”

Maka closed her eyes and leaned against Soul as he carefully worked to finish the braid, his voice clear and strong as her favorite song drowned out the thunder and the world.

There was only Soul and Maka.

A sound heart and a sound soul.

Together.

And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

#Soul Eater #maka albarn #Soul Evans #Soma

[alovesickdork]

“I’m so sick of watching you throw away your happiness for people who don’t treasure it! I love you!” with whomever strikes you with this line. 💜🧡💜 ~nikkz

Oh hey Nikkz! (@nikkzships) I don't get to talk about my boy Jon so let's go with him and my OC Rosea. They're peak childhood friends to lovers. Also, I love Jon with long auburn hair and I wish DC used that design more.

∞ Friends to Lovers Prompts ∞

Jonathan leaned back as Rosea braided his long hair and continued to read. This had become rather routine on both their parts, Jon knew that Rosea liked to mess with his hair and it gave him a chance to relax when she did. He was only half paying attention to his book, having been talking to her the entire time.

"Patrick asked me out the other day," Rosea said absently as she pulled the brush through her friend's auburn hair. She then promptly pouted as he pulled away to look back at her. "I wasn't done with that."

Jonathan's icy eyes narrowed. "Music Meister asked you out?" He watched as Rosea gave a nod in response. He let out a groan and rolled his eyes before looking back at her. "Rosea, I’m so sick of watching you throw away your happiness for people who don’t treasure it! I love you!” His normally concealed southern accent was heavy in that moment.

Rosea stared at him for a few seconds before she started giggling. Jonathan's eyes narrowed again, why the fuck was she laughing."What's so funny?" The accent still hadn't gone away and his anger kept him from being embarrassed over the sudden confession of his love.

Rosea just smiled before speaking again. "You go back to being southern when you're angry, you know that?" She waved off his obvious anger at a situation he had assumed had happened. "Also I turned him down."

Jonathan's eyes softened slightly and turned to bewilderment. "You.... You turned him down?" Another nod from Rosea. "Why?"

She sighed and shook her head. "Jonathan Keeny Crane, how long have we known each other?"

"About twenty years." The taller man stared at his childhood friend, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrow at her not really sure where this question was going.

"And in all those years you didn't think I wouldn't notice how I'm honestly the only one you even seem to like?" She was feeling smug and the expression on her face clearly showed it. "I'm not stupid, Jon. I knew."

Jonathan's cheeks flushed at her statement as he looked away. "You're my best friend, of course I like you. And I never said you were stupid." He paused before getting into a position where she could mess with his hair again. "So you knew? Why didn't you say anything?"

Rosea gave a small sigh and went back to braiding his hair again. "Because that was your job. You had to say it." There was an awkward silence for a moment before she spoke up again. "By the way, I love you too."

#nikkzships #duke of spook #replied asks #self ship writing #self shipping #self ship #self shipping stuff #self ship stuff #Sorry this took so long #I had brain fog yesterday and I just had an idea for it last night #Obviously it came after I laid down in bed so I had to wait until I woke up to write it

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

In Chains (Chapter Seven) The Lull Before the Storm (Trafalgar Law)

“Samira. Do you have a minute?”

Said woman peeked over from her seat near the desk and smiled at Penguin. He leaned against the door of his shared room, arms crossed over his chest; his roommate and navigator were giving him sour expressions. This nearly made him laugh.

“Our Captain asked for you,” he made clear.

Their unpleasant attitudes barely faltered.

Samira bowed her head and stood up. “We can finish the map another time. Alf šukr. (a thousand thanks)”

Penguin raised a brow. “A map? What kind?”

He pushed off the frame and walked into the room, peeking over the bear’s shoulder as he drew lines on a chart sheet. It wasn’t much to look at; Penguin could make out a landform with some notable locations, but he had never heard of them before.

“The Isle of Red Sand,” he read out loud. He gave Samira a curious look.

She gently laughed. “It’s where I’m from. Meister (mister) Trafalgar inquired about it during our last talk.”

“And you’re making a map for him? Does that mean we’ll get to see your homeland someday?”

Samira hoped not. She hid her frown well, but her eyes narrowed. “Possibly. The Isle isn’t exactly safe to visit right now, but one day you guys might be able to see it. My sister would love to meet you all.”

“I’d love to meet her too,” Shachi mentioned with a sigh. “I bet she’s as sweet as you, Sami.”

This was the first time he’d heard about her sister – Samira hardly talked about her life before meeting them – but he imagined they looked a lot alike.

“She’s the nicest person I know … my brother not so much,” Samira mentioned. She didn’t give her words much thought until Shachi trembled in fear; her brother was a sore topic for her.

An obvious frown appeared on her face, but she laughed regardless; awkward and loud. “He is extremely protective of us, but he’s not a terrible person.”

She wished this was true; he wasn’t the same person she grew up with, but regardless of his bad decisions she loved him. Samira huffed a sigh and stood up.

“Mester (mister) Trafalgar asked for me; we should go.”

Penguin nodded. He was curious about her relationship with her brother, but thought it best not to ask. Her entire demeanor had changed in a matter of seconds, and honestly, he hated it. What happened between them? The serious looks she was getting from Shachi and Bepo made him believe that they too were just as curious.

She said her farewells and left the room with Penguin, following him up the stairs at the end of the hall and to the second level. She assumed Law was on deck waiting for her, but was shocked to see that he and some of the crew were on the shore of the next island. When had they docked? She stared in awe at the vast scenery, and only snapped out of her daze once she heard Penguin call her name.

Following him from the submarine, Samira was eager to explore. Law motioned them closer, and ordered Penguin to head further onto the island with the others; she noticed a wooden barrel near the shore where he was standing, but paid it no mind.

“Are we going onto the island too?”

Law grinned. “Once we’re done here. The Log Pose will take two days to reset and I have some business to attend to.”

“I assume that means you don’t need me to follow you around,” Samira mentioned.

He laughed at her attempt. “You assume wrong.”

“You’re no fun,” she whined.

Law ignored her, striking the barrel with his foot. “That aside, we should take care of this matter first.”

He saw the confused look on her face, and leaned down to pull the lid off the barrel. Samira squeaked once she saw what was inside. Law had cut up Arsenio and had shoved the pieces into the barrel; his fingers and toes twitched and his large eyes stared up at her, blinking every now and then.

“How is he alive? And what did you do to him?”

Law sighed. “It’s something my Devil Fruit allows me to do. Now isn’t the time to explain it; we’re in front of the enemy.”

His power was seriously frightening. Samira trembled and glanced down at the frog man. Why was he like this? She recalled Law saying that Arsenio would be leaving them, but she never assumed like this.

“Does he feel pain?”

Law shook his head. “Unless I want him to. I’m surprised though, Amunet-ya. One of your many horrors is right in front of you, and questioning me is only thing you can think to do.”

“I––

He was right. Law went to the trouble of giving her a last word and she had so far wasted his generosity. But what should she say? Samira clinched her hands. There was so much to say; so much anger and despair in her heart. She took a deep breath, then let it out.

“I could be ruthless; I could scream at you and hope that the sea drags you down to the depths, but I’m not like you.” Tears burned her eyes as she tried to contain her rage. “In fact, … I want you to live; I want you to make it back to the Isle, and I want you to tell your boss that I’m free to live my life the way I want to.”

Arsenio croaked in laughter. “So long as you are an asset to the Boss, you will never be free.”

“I’ll be waiting then. Tell him to come and get me,” Samira hissed. She grabbed the lid and secured it back onto the barrel, then kicked it into the sea.

Law snorted; no doubt, that was the lamest and most reckless farewell he’d ever heard. What had been going through her mind? “You say whatever you want – thoughtless or not – don’t you?”

“He made me mad; I wasn’t even thinking.”

Her face warmed up. Did she just pick a fight with them? Samira shot a glare at Law.

“Why didn’t you stop me? I can’t take that back you know?”

He agreed. “You can worry about it later. We need to reach the Exchange Shop before it closes.”

“Are you ever worried about anything?”

Law ignored her question. He ambled down the manmade path leading from the shore towards the village; Samira followed him with a pout.

At least she’d get to see the island now.

--

The Festival of Colors. Samira held the multihued flyer against her chest as she waited outside the Exchange Shop for Law. A native of the island handed it to her as he passed through the plaza, insisting that she come and participate in the fun. She had no clue what the Festival of Colors was, but she was hooked; the flyer mentioned there’d be music and delicious food. Samira wanted to go.

She leaned back against the wall and waited until Law returned. He carried a small case with him and walked past her as he searched the shops for the next stop. Samira ran to his side and hummed a jaunty tune; Law recognized it as the one his crew often played onboard the submarine.

“Liking this, are you?”

She was indeed. Sakra village was stunning. Samira had never seen a place so vibrant. Color decorated every building; no two were the same, like a kaleidoscope.

“It’s so beautiful. Don’t you agree?”

Law hummed. “It’s intense.”

“That’s the sort of condescending thing I expected you to say,” Samira laughed.

He raised a brow. “Are you saying that I’m a negative person, Amunet-ya?”

“Sometimes, yes.” Just seems like you never learned to smile.

She chose not to elaborate; she’d already said too much. A gentle smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

“Look at me, proving you right. I guess I do say whatever I want without thinking.”

Law agreed. “You certainly do.”

He sighed and came to an abrupt stop. The arrangement he made with her was troubling him. Honestly, there was no time to train her, but he had to go and agree. He had a course to set and a plan to recreate; much to prepare for. However, the sub was docked for two days, much to his chagrin.

“We need to head back,” Law mentioned. There was enough light in the day to get a few hours’ worth of training.

Samira was confused. She puckered a brow, but Law merely grinned.

“You have until we leave to show me how serious you are about controlling your Devil Fruit power. I promised to teach you, but if I see no progress, then I see no reason to waste my time with you.”

She understood. Nodding in agreement, Samira followed Law back to the submarine. She wanted to show him the flyer for the festival, but knew that now was not the best time. It was tomorrow night; she could ask him then.

#trafalgar law #one piece #fanfic #law x oc

[zayray030]

Jealousy Isn't A Pretty Look.

Summary: Barry and Kara get slightly possessive over Iris and Mon-El when those two share a hug after the whole Music Miester mess.

Barry and Kara wouldn't say they get jealous easily. I mean Kara wouldn't say she gets jealous easily but Barry was pretty jealous but he wouldn't call himself the overly jealous type.

At least that's what they would have thought before. Now? If someone so much as looked at either Mon-El or Iris they better hope to lord that they can run fast enough to escape them.

That's what they thought when they saw Mon-El and Iris share a hug. It was obviously platonic and it meant nothing but after the Music Meister incident those two weren't ready to see either of their lovers near the other.

Kara quickly ran over to Mon-El and threw him behind her while standing over  Iris and glaring while Barry sped over and grabbed Iris and pushed her far away from Mon-El, hands vibrating and eyes cackling with electricity.

It was pin drop silence in the Cortex and Iris and Mon-El shared concerned and confused looks with each other.

“Okay? Barry are you okay? Do you need Caitlin checking your health again?” asked Iris worriedly as she slowly approached her lover. She gently placed a hand on his arm and he stopped vibrating but he was still shooting a foul glare at Mon-El, eyes cackling with pure power.

“You two Kara. Are you okay?” asked Mon-El as he placed a hand on his girlfriend's waist.

Suddenly, surprising everyone in the Cortex, Barry spun around and kissed Iris heatedly, picking her up from the back of her thighs and wrapping her legs around his waist.

Kara turned to Mon-El and placed her legs around his waist and wrapped her arms around his neck keeping him in place.

Iris and Mon-El stood there, confused and shocked slightly before their brains kicked in and they struggled out of their lovers' hold. Kara and Barry slowly let them out, both shooting slightly possessive looks at their lover before either placing them down or getting down respectively.

“So what was that?” asked Cisco after a pregnant pause, the only other sounds were the couples panting.

“Maybe a residual effect from Music Mistear?” suggested Caitlin.

“I doubt it.” muttered Wally, a disgusted look on his face. He hadn't wanted to see his older sister get kissed within an inch of her life by her boyfriend. Even if he was friends with him. Joe looked just as disgusted with the scene.

“Barry?” Iris asked again, more forceful, moving to stand in front of him, hands crossed, giving him a confused look.

“Kara?” Mon-El asked more hesitantly, moving in front of Kara, hands on her shoulder.

“Ah!” said J'onn, a small smirk on his face as he looked at Iris and Mon-El.

“What? You find out why they both went Godzilla on Iris and Mon-El?” asked Cisco.

“It seems that when Barry and Kara were whammied Iris and Mon-El’s counterparts seemed to have been, ehem, in a relationship.” he said, amusement coloring his tone.

Both Iris and Mon-El shared a look of disgust with the other, neither ever seeing each other as more than just friends.

“Barry!” Iris finally yelled and that snapped Barry out of his daze and he turned to look at Iris slightly worried.

“Kara!” yelled Mon-El and Kara finally snapped out of trying to kill Iris with her eyes.

“I'm so sorry.” gasped Kara, shooting Iris a mightily apologetic look. Iris just smiled at her, waving off her apology.

“Me two. I don't know what came over me.” said Barry, slightly shameful but Iris could tell that he didn't feel completely bad. At least not bad for the kiss and she's got to say, she didn't exactly regret it either.

“What clearly came over BA over here is that he needed to protect Iris!” said HR, a huge smile on his face, drumsticks patting out a beat in the air.

“And while that's normally amazing, you don't have to worry about anything. Me and Mon-El are just friends. Nothing is happening between us.” said Iris, a small grin in her face as she moved over to hug Barry. Wally mimed vomiting.

“I don't need to know anything about my older sisters sex life, thanks!”

“Kara, I love you. Iris is just a friend. That hug, it was just us having our own small party for working together and saving your lives.” said Mon-El, shooting Kara a smile. Kara blushed a dark red but nodded non the less.

She ran over and gave Iris a quick hug muttering sorry over and over under her breath, guilt obvious.

Barry just nodded at Mon-El, still feeling a tiny bit upset at the alternative version of Iris calling him her home.

“So what have we learned today?” asked J'onn.

“That both BA and Kara have seriously strong possessive and jealous streaks in them and not to touch, look or even think about Iris or Mon-El in any other way than sibling like or platonic.” answered HR, ever the helpful friend, smiling slightly.

“Right you are! Now let's go home! Alex is probably going to kill me for worrying her.” said Kara, taking Mon-El’s hand andeading him off to the breach.

“J'onn!” yelled Mon-El. J'onn smiled lightly at his two friends before following them.

“Let's go home. I want to show you something.” said Barry, nose nuzzling Iris's neck. Iris nodded slightly and Barry picked her up bridal style before spreading out of the Cortex.

“Well damn.” said Joe. “Did not know Barry could get like that.”

“I never wanted to know if he could get like that.” muttered Wally.

“Let's get you home.” said Joe, smiling slightly at his youngest.

“So is now a bad time to admit I had a tiny crush on Iris when we first met?” asked Cisco to Caitlin and HR.

“Absolutely! Unless you want to be murdered by Barry I suggest you never speak or think about that ever again.” said Caitlin, smiling slightly at her friend.

“Do you two want to watch a musical?” asked HR hopefully. Both Cisco and Caitlin turned around to say no but one look at HR changed their mind.

After all, everything is better in  musicals.

#iris west #iris west allen #barry allen #westallen #dctv #kara danvers #karamel #mon el #music meister #caitlin snow #cisco ramon #joe west #wally west #hr wells #hank henshaw #j'onn j'onzz #supergirl #the flash #martian manhunter #Vibe #kid flash #Set in flash season 3 #Set in supergirl season 2 #Duet #anti supercorp #Inspired by a fic idea #Possessive Barry Allen #Possessive Kara Danvers #Jealous Barry Allen #Jealous Kara Danvers

[artdaily7]

The Generations of Men by Robert Frost A governor it was proclaimed this time, When all who would come seeking in New Hampshire Ancestral memories might come together. And those of the name Stark gathered in Bow, A rock-strewn town where farming has fallen off, And sprout-lands flourish where the axe has gone. Someone had literally run to earth In an old cellar hole in a by-road The origin of all the family there. Thence they were sprung, so numerous a tribe That now not all the houses left in town Made shift to shelter them without the help Of here and there a tent in grove and orchard. They were at Bow, but that was not enough: Nothing would do but they must fix a day To stand together on the crater’s verge That turned them on the world, and try to fathom The past and get some strangeness out of it. But rain spoiled all. The day began uncertain, With clouds low trailing and moments of rain that misted. The young folk held some hope out to each other Till well toward noon when the storm settled down With a swish in the grass. “What if the others Are there,” they said. “It isn’t going to rain.” Only one from a farm not far away Strolled thither, not expecting he would find Anyone else, but out of idleness. One, and one other, yes, for there were two. The second round the curving hillside road Was a girl; and she halted some way off To reconnoitre, and then made up her mind At least to pass by and see who he was, And perhaps hear some word about the weather. This was some Stark she didn’t know. He nodded. “No fête to-day,” he said. “It looks that way.” She swept the heavens, turning on her heel. “I only idled down.” “I idled down.” Provision there had been for just such meeting Of stranger cousins, in a family tree Drawn on a sort of passport with the branch Of the one bearing it done in detail— Some zealous one’s laborious device. She made a sudden movement toward her bodice, As one who clasps her heart. They laughed together. “Stark?” he inquired. “No matter for the proof.” “Yes, Stark. And you?” “I’m Stark.” He drew his passport. “You know we might not be and still be cousins: The town is full of Chases, Lowes, and Baileys, All claiming some priority in Starkness. My mother was a Lane, yet might have married Anyone upon earth and still her children Would have been Starks, and doubtless here to-day.” “You riddle with your genealogy Like a Viola. I don’t follow you.” “I only mean my mother was a Stark Several times over, and by marrying father No more than brought us back into the name.” “One ought not to be thrown into confusion By a plain statement of relationship, But I own what you say makes my head spin. You take my card—you seem so good at such things— And see if you can reckon our cousinship. Why not take seats here on the cellar wall And dangle feet among the raspberry vines?” “Under the shelter of the family tree.” “Just so—that ought to be enough protection.” “Not from the rain. I think it’s going to rain.” “It’s raining.” “No, it’s misting; let’s be fair. Does the rain seem to you to cool the eyes?” The situation was like this: the road Bowed outward on the mountain half-way up, And disappeared and ended not far off. No one went home that way. The only house Beyond where they were was a shattered seedpod. And below roared a brook hidden in trees, The sound of which was silence for the place. This he sat listening to till she gave judgment. “On father’s side, it seems, we’re—let me see——” “Don’t be too technical.—You have three cards.” “Four cards, one yours, three mine, one for each branch Of the Stark family I’m a member of.” “D’you know a person so related to herself Is supposed to be mad.” “I may be mad.” “You look so, sitting out here in the rain Studying genealogy with me You never saw before. What will we come to With all this pride of ancestry, we Yankees? I think we’re all mad. Tell me why we’re here Drawn into town about this cellar hole Like wild geese on a lake before a storm? What do we see in such a hole, I wonder.” “The Indians had a myth of Chicamoztoc, Which means The Seven Caves that We Came out of. This is the pit from which we Starks were digged.” “You must be learned. That’s what you see in it?” “And what do you see?” “Yes, what do I see? First let me look. I see raspberry vines—” “Oh, if you’re going to use your eyes, just hear What I see. It’s a little, little boy, As pale and dim as a match flame in the sun; He’s groping in the cellar after jam, He thinks it’s dark and it’s flooded with daylight.” “He’s nothing. Listen. When I lean like this I can make out old Grandsir Stark distinctly,— With his pipe in his mouth and his brown jug— Bless you, it isn’t Grandsir Stark, it’s Granny, But the pipe’s there and smoking and the jug. She’s after cider, the old girl, she’s thirsty; Here’s hoping she gets her drink and gets out safely.” “Tell me about her. Does she look like me?” “She should, shouldn’t she, you’re so many times Over descended from her. I believe She does look like you. Stay the way you are. The nose is just the same, and so’s the chin— Making allowance, making due allowance.” “You poor, dear, great, great, great, great Granny!” “See that you get her greatness right. Don’t stint her.” “Yes, it’s important, though you think it isn’t. I won’t be teased. But see how wet I am.” “Yes, you must go; we can’t stay here for ever. But wait until I give you a hand up. A bead of silver water more or less Strung on your hair won’t hurt your summer looks. I wanted to try something with the noise That the brook raises in the empty valley. We have seen visions—now consult the voices. Something I must have learned riding in trains When I was young. I used the roar To set the voices speaking out of it, Speaking or singing, and the band-music playing. Perhaps you have the art of what I mean. I’ve never listened in among the sounds That a brook makes in such a wild descent. It ought to give a purer oracle.” “It’s as you throw a picture on a screen: The meaning of it all is out of you; The voices give you what you wish to hear.” “Strangely, it’s anything they wish to give.” “Then I don’t know. It must be strange enough. I wonder if it’s not your make-believe. What do you think you’re like to hear to-day?” “From the sense of our having been together— But why take time for what I’m like to hear? I’ll tell you what the voices really say. You will do very well right where you are A little longer. I mustn’t feel too hurried, Or I can’t give myself to hear the voices.” “Is this some trance you are withdrawing into?” “You must be very still; you mustn’t talk.” “I’ll hardly breathe.” “The voices seem to say——” “I’m waiting.” “Don’t! The voices seem to say: Call her Nausicaa, the unafraid Of an acquaintance made adventurously.” “I let you say that—on consideration.” “I don’t see very well how you can help it. You want the truth. I speak but by the voices. You see they know I haven’t had your name, Though what a name should matter between us——” “I shall suspect——” “Be good. The voices say: Call her Nausicaa, and take a timber That you shall find lies in the cellar charred Among the raspberries, and hew and shape it For a door-sill or other corner piece In a new cottage on the ancient spot. The life is not yet all gone out of it. And come and make your summer dwelling here, And perhaps she will come, still unafraid, And sit before you in the open door With flowers in her lap until they fade, But not come in across the sacred sill——” “I wonder where your oracle is tending. You can see that there’s something wrong with it, Or it would speak in dialect. Whose voice Does it purport to speak in? Not old Grandsir’s Nor Granny’s, surely. Call up one of them. They have best right to be heard in this place.” “You seem so partial to our great-grandmother (Nine times removed. Correct me if I err.) You will be likely to regard as sacred Anything she may say. But let me warn you, Folks in her day were given to plain speaking. You think you’d best tempt her at such a time?” “It rests with us always to cut her off.” “Well then, it’s Granny speaking: ‘I dunnow! Mebbe I’m wrong to take it as I do. There ain’t no names quite like the old ones though, Nor never will be to my way of thinking. One mustn’t bear too hard on the new comers, But there’s a dite too many of them for comfort. I should feel easier if I could see More of the salt wherewith they’re to be salted. Son, you do as you’re told! You take the timber— It’s as sound as the day when it was cut— And begin over——’ There, she’d better stop. You can see what is troubling Granny, though. But don’t you think we sometimes make too much Of the old stock? What counts is the ideals, And those will bear some keeping still about.” “I can see we are going to be good friends.” “I like your ‘going to be.’ You said just now It’s going to rain.” “I know, and it was raining. I let you say all that. But I must go now.” “You let me say it? on consideration? How shall we say good-bye in such a case?” “How shall we?” “Will you leave the way to me?” “No, I don’t trust your eyes. You’ve said enough. Now give me your hand up.—Pick me that flower.” “Where shall we meet again?” “Nowhere but here Once more before we meet elsewhere.” “In rain?” “It ought to be in rain. Sometime in rain. In rain to-morrow, shall we, if it rains? But if we must, in sunshine.” So she went.

Adrian Ludwig Richter 1847 Bridal Procession in a Spring Landscape, oil on canvas, Galerie Neue Meister, Dersden, Germany

#The Generations of Men #Adrian Ludwig Richter #Richter #Bridal Procession in a Spring Landscape #Art #Poetry #Fine Arts #Poems #Painting #Robert Frost #Frost #But if we must in sunshine

[mwolf0epsilon]

Story about something crashing on little Sammy parents farm. Maybe the government comes and forces them out for a while to collect it?👽

Warning for disturbing imagery and dead animals!

Summary: Joey Drew Studio is snowed in, so while everyone tries to keep warm for the night they end up reminiscing about the oddest things they had ever experienced. Sammy ends up recalling a rather bizarre event from his childhood.

---

[[MORE]]

"I'm sorry to impose so much Mrs. Harrison. I trust Abigail will behave, she's a little angel I assure you." Sammy fidgeted with the phone chord nervously as he listened to his elderly neighbor. "Yes, yes thank you... Oh certainly! Let her on so I can wish her a good night..."

Susie watched as the tired look on the music director's face melted away to welcome a gentler smile. She could sort of hear a child's voice on the line (his little sister that he'd mentioned a few times). It was quite endearing to see Sammy with such a calm and content expression instead of the usual grumpy scrawl that scared half the band into submission.

"Good night Abby, be good to Mrs. Harrison." The call was coming to a close. "I love you too."

Susie smiled at him and nodded, taking her turn to call home now that he was finished.

"Wally is heating up soup in the break room. The stove's thankfully working." She called after him as she dialed the number.

"Everyone camping out there?" He asked as he looked back at the voice actress.

"Everyone but Joey, that devil of a man actually has an insulated office... The rest of us are sleeping by the stove." She sighed "Thankfully Norman and Grant thought ahead and brought a few blankets to stay warm."

Clever thinking and also a necessity, as Grant's office was very drafty, and Norman's booth got cold from the pipework frosting over a bit (since the music department had been a repurposed bathroom) in cold weather. Mr. Cohen also knew the likelyhood of Joey having paid the heating bill. Slim to none.

"Great... Just what I wanted, to sleep in a stuffy room full of people and the smell of that rancid soup..." A soup he'd enjoyed at first (due to it reminding him of his father's cauliflower soup which had little bits of bacon in it), but which had lost its luster on the third week of being asked to take a few cans home. Abby hated the stuff so he'd had to eat it himself. "Don't you just love getting snowed in?"

"Only when I was a child. The snow usually meant no classes." Susie finished dialing and waited for her mother to answer.

He left her alone to go back into the break room where Wally and Norman were passing around bowls of soup. Grant greeted him with a blanket, which he graciously took. The damn studio was absolutely freezing in November. The freak snowstorm hadn't helped.

Honestly he'd loved the look of a snowy New York when he'd first moved here with his father. It had looked beautiful and new, almost magical, unlike the ranch he'd grown up in until he was 11. Looking back now, he missed the expanse of snowy fields instead of the cold streets. He also missed watching a few of the animals play in the snow.

Getting stuck in the studio made him a little nostalgic.

"Here ya go Sammy!" Wally passed him a bowl of soup, which he nearly dropped in surprise, and grinned "It ain't my ma's beef stew and it definitely lacks a spoon since we don't got that many of those to begin with, but at least it'll keep you warm from the inside!"

"I, yes at least that." He sniffed it and grimaced. Pork grease and chunky bits that definitely were less bacon and more cartilage. "You ever wonder how they made this slop?"

"I'd rather not think about it. It's like hot dogs ya know... The less you know about it, the better they are!" The janitor shrugged and went to sit on one of the chairs closer to the stove. Everyone was very much huddled close by, swaddled in shared blankets, rubbing their hands together to keep them warm, or drinking soup.

Norman nodded at the music director once he sat down to join the group. Not too long after Susie was sitting beside him, and he offered to share his blanket with her.

"So, what do we do now?" Wally asked as he looked around. The issue would be sorted in the morning but it was still only a quarter to eleven and no one was particularly keen on sleeping just yet.

"I'll tell ya what we could do!" Shawn called out from his spot, voice slightly muffled by his big red scarf. "I say we pass t'time by indulging in the ye old grand art that is story tellin'!"

"Story telling? What, like a sleepover?" Jack questioned. Sammy found it amusing that he'd swaddled himself in his blanket in a way that pressed his hair tight against his skull, to the point where it looked like a makeshift scarf and ear mitts. "Like when we were little kids?"

"Well we're all sleepin' here t'night aren't we? And ya don't need t'be wee little ankle biters t'go tellin' stories." Shawn huffed "Besides, what better way t'know yer co-workers than share some harrowin' tales? I sure got a few that'll intrigue you folks I'm sure."

"Is it about potatoes?" One of the art department workers asked, only to get a slap on the back of the head and an elbow to the ribs.

"Very funny, that muppet over there's a real comedian coddin like that..." The Irishman rolled his eyes. "Right, you folk ever hear 'bout the legend o'the banshee?"

Everyone gave him a peculiar look, which Shawn took as permission to carry on.

"The tale varies some dependin' on t'person who tells ya. But the way me ma told it to me was somethin' like this: The banshee is a sweet singin' virgin, pretty as a button, a real feek." He tapped his chin thoughtfully as he recalled his mother's words. "Sometimes she has long black hair, other times it's a bright red like fire. Always pale... But don't be thinkin' she's just some little lady, oh no. The banshee is a spirit, one that heralds death in the family. Her ghastly cries precede the death o'loved ones and fill ya with a mighty chill o'dread... And I saw one when I was just a wee lad."

"Ya saw... A ghost?" Lacie wrinkled her nose. "And ya sure it wasn't some regular girl you just saw?"

"Couldn't o'been. She was right outside the window Lacie. And me room was on the second floor..." Shawn shook his head "And I knew it had to o'been a banshee. She looked just like me cousin, who died o'the shakes a few months prior. My pa always did say she might come back as the household haunt, she wasn't ready t'leave just yet."

"So, that's it? You saw some apparitions at your window and think it was some folklore horror?" Sammy rolled his eyes.

"Yep. An' then in the morning me grandpa was dead. Dreadful song she went and had t'sing. I was just 5 too! T'damn beour coulda gone bother me brother instead... He was t'one that used to scare us wee lads with these tales o'ghosts n' ghoulies..."

Well, that wasn't a very nice story. And it likely had a reasonable explanation behind it too. Just a small child frightened by tales and likely still coming to terms with losing a cousin.

"Oh, that's nothin'!" Wally grinned. "Ghost stories aren't anythin' compared to what I found in a ditch when I was 8!"

"Oh yeah? Then enlighten us, oh scare Meister!" Shawn barked back, glaring slightly. "What coulda been worse than a banshee?"

"How about a maneater?" The janitor offered.

Shawn fell quiet and others began to whisper among each other at the claim, before Norman began to hush everyone.

"Go on then... Yous can't just say that an' not tell us."

"Oh man, it was the dang scariest thing I'd seen as a kid!" Wally grinned. "Us tykes from Brooklyn? We didn't grow up with monster stories and such. Our mas and pas told us about kidnappers and murderers instead, cuzz those are like, real dangers you know?"

He took a sip from his cooling bowl of soup, before clearing his throat.

"But you know what kids are like. They like adventure and don't really listen too much cuzz, you only believe it when you see it!" He carried on. "Me? I was with a couple a pals exploring this old ditch that had some neat stuff people used to throw in there. Busted watches, trinkets, sometimes a lost wallet with a little bit of cash in it...Well that day there wasn't just goodies."

Sammy sipped his own soup and felt Susie's arm brush up against his as she got on the edge of her seat. She was excited to hear wherever Wally's story was going.

"Local news had like, been going on about this one loon that had run off from the big house or somethin'. Some big mug who was a pervert or whatever. Adult stuff we kids didn't care for." Wally looked around as he spoke. "Only he wasn't no pervert, just really messed in the head. A cannibal. A cannibal that liked eating little tots. You know, stories like Little Johnny went pokin' around where he shouldn't and now there was no Little Johnny no more? Yeah that nearly was us."

"You found the guy in the ditch?" Sammy guessed.

"Nope! Found my neighbor, Sally, partially eaten and all kinds o' messed up." Wally replied "I figured we were in trouble so we ran like our butts were on fire and screamed the whole way back. Coppers caught the fucker and his picture on the paper still gives me nightmares. If we'd found him instead, we woulda ended up like Sally!"

Everyone looked extremely disturbed at the thought of a couple of 8 year olds finding another child's partially eaten corpse.

"Shite... No wonder yer such a mog. Brooklyn's fucked up!" Shawn winced.

"Hey!" Wally pouted.

"Also your story was misleading. You didn't actually encounter the "maneater"." Sammy pointed out. "That's not how you should advertise a tale you twit."

"Would ya rather I have found the creep that did it?"

"No, next time just don't make it sound like an actual encounter when it's an anecdote about another outcome entirely."

"Don't go bein' an ass Lawrence." Norman called out. "I thought the story was good. Messed up, but good... Granted it don't top what I experienced when I was still in the cradle."

"Oh, this ought to be good." The blond smirked. "Word of mouth?"

"My Nanna never told no lie. Yous won't find a more honest lady." Norman smirked back.

At this point everyone had finished their soup and was practically laying or leaning against one another for warmth. It helped that the story telling atmosphere had all but made everyone forget about the cold.

Norman being so tall and obscuring the stove ever so slightly, cast strange shadows on the wall.

"Now, this happened a few months after I was born. My Nanna was lookin' after me while my mama and memaw was helpin' my pops and pepaw out in the cotton fields. My brother and sister wasn't that much older either, not yet ready to go pickin', so they was in their room playin' together." He leaned back in his chair, a content smile on his face "Nanna was just preparin' lunch while I was layin' in this big ol' basket full o' pillows and blankets, just sleepin' away like babies do. She turned 'round to chop up some carrots when she had this weird feelin' all of a sudden."

Sammy put an arm around Susie as he listened. Norman was a pretty good story teller. Had this voice that just pulled you in. He could almost imagine a little chubby baby in a basket while an old lady prepared food in the kitchen.

"Nanna Polk always had a feel for when things were no good all of a sudden. She'd known when Poppop weren't doing well in the head, and she knew how to pop a shot into a big gator when it got too close to the house. She wasn't afraid o'nothin'." Norman carried on. "But she was afraid. She was afraid when the blade o'her knife caught the reflection o'this big brute pullin' my basket out the window."

Sammy winces and Susie tightened her grip on his arm. The others were quite aghast as well, at the thought of an innocent little babe getting snatched away by some stranger.

"Nanna didn't scream. She didn't wanna scare my siblings you see... Instead she tiptoed towards the backdoor, knife in hand, and kept outta sight o'the man that was tryin' to take me away." Norman hummed as he thought back on what Nanna had told him. "You know, they often tell ya 'bout southern hospitality. If yous is friendly and respectful, yous always got a friend. They don't tell yous about Louisiana ladies like my sweet Nanna tho... They is forged of iron and grief. Strong and protective o'their youngins... She knew what that man wanted from me, an' she wasn't bout to let it happen."

"What did she do?" Wally asked, bitting his knuckles as he put his legs up to his chest.

"Put the knife through his back. She pushed him so he wouldn't go an' fall on me, oh 'course, and that basket well about saved my life cuzz it was damn well padded and didn't so much as wake me when it hit the ground."

"Holy shit..."

"Now, that might sound a little extreme to yous, but I trust Nanna's judgement." Norman began once he noticed the horrified looks on his coworker's faces. "That man woulda taken me somewhere no one could'a gotten me from, an' she wasn't 'bout to lose anyone else to them creeps. Nanna was smart, and Nanna was hard workin'. She buried the bastard where he fell, an' planted a tree t'remember it too. I got to put a swing on it when it grew big enough to support the weight."

"Where were they going to take you?" Sammy finally asked, once he realized no one would do so. "The man?"

"Hm, well I don't know exactly. But she did say it was where my Poppop grew up, so I know it wasn't a good place." Norman frowned. "They did bad things to him, made him messed up in the head an' dangerous. Nanna saved me from endin' up the same way... Don't care if it wasn't the right way t'do it, them folks don't deserve no pity if they go stealin' babies from their cribs t'do god only knows what."

"Well... For what is worth, we're glad your nanna saved you Norman. You're a gem." Susie smiled which got the much larger man to chuckle.

"How's that for a story then? Anyone steppin' up to top it off?"

No one seemed to have anything that quite matched the energy of this... What should he call it? Cultist kidnapping story? It certainly sounded that the man was some underground cultist if he was taking babies to indoctrinate, or whatever...

The blond watched, saw no one step up to the challenge, and then remembered.

"Well, it may not be as bad as getting snatched away. But I do recall a rather peculiar set of events from before I moved to New York with my father." He began, the band members snorting and whispering among themselves that it was probably something stupid. He glared their way before looking at Norman who gestured for him to go on.

"Floor's all yours Sammy."

"Right." He thought back, way back when he was 10. Just a year prior to his mother's death. It was all a little foggy but the more he concentrated on what his father had told him about that night, the less his explanation made sense once correlated with his own memories. "I didn't exactly grow up in the city. Not until I was 11 that is... I actually lived in a cattle ranch for a while."

"That explains why you call us sheep." Johnny laughed.

"No, I call you sheep because your job is to follow me, you damn goat." Sammy snarled back at the interrupting organist.

"Ouch." Jack winced.

"Either way, as a child living with a father who raised cattle for a living, one can expect that I was often tasked to help with a few of the animals. Mainly cleaning the pens and, if I was particularly lucky, shearing the sheep." The sheep, he confesses, had been his favourite. They were dumb and cute. "My father usually dealt with the larger animals. When this event occured, he'd just bought a big healthy heifer. His ornery old bull had covered our best breeding cow but she'd not been having calves."

"Was she called Bessie?" Wally grinned.

"The name of the cow isn't of importance!" Sammy rolled his eyes. "It was Felicity by the way."

"My mistake."

"Either way, my father was a breeder, so his breeding female not producing offsprings was a big deal. I was a kid so I wasn't particularly interested if Felicity had issues, I just liked watching her when she had little calves. They were the cutest thing right after the baby lambs." Sammy carried on "The new heifer, Clarabelle, arrived that day and immediately the bull was put to working. My father thought That'd be the end of his problems... An easy fix. Except it wasn't..."

"She sterile?" Norman asked.

"Oh I wish that had been it. I was 10, had seen animals in plenty of states from sickness or wild animal attacks. But never had I seen a cow turned inside out, other than in a damn butcher's..." Sammy shuddered. He could still remember it... Going outside to get the eggs like his father had asked, and just finding this massive dead heifer with no skin on her body. His mother had said he'd screamed like the devil himself had been before him.

"Oh god..." Susie gagged slightly. "That couldn't have been nice..."

"It wasn't. I was freaked out and my father was furious. Clarabelle had been an expensive purchase. And she wasn't the only casualty." Sammy shook his head. "The pen was wrecked, the bull was in better state but no less dead, and poor Felicity must have run into whatever butchered them both because she had a massive wound on her hind. Every animal was spooked out of their minds and even our sheepdog wouldn't come out of the house. Peed himself when we tried coaxing him."

"Did ya find what did it?" Shawn asked.

"No, we couldn't find anything that explained it." Sammy carried on. "No tracks, no trails of blood, nothing. The pen was just ruined, like it had been splintered apart, and Clarabelle looked to have just... I don't know how to explain it. Pop? Like a balloon?"

"I figure your father wasn't too keen on going' about business after that?"

"He wanted compensation, but you can't exactly put the blame on anything if you can't even find a cause." The music director sighed "We eventually just decided to call it quits on figuring out what the hell happened and went on with our lives. But then things just got... Weird."

Strange lights at night, bizarre noises, and horrific night terrors. Sammy's father had lost his patience when he'd found their dog's remains and called the authorities.

"We were all on edge, unsure what was going on at the ranch, and losing animals every night. My father called the cops, saying someone must be playing some seriously messed up joke to terrorize us. He'd made a lot of enemies with his attitude over the years, so I wouldn't have been surprised..." He trailed of, beginning to feel goosebumps as he recalled the final night of these strange occurances. "And then one night I saw something strange out of my window. Stranger than anything else."

Everyone was eager for the conclusion, he could tell. Taking a deep breath, he recounted what he'd been a witness to.

"I wasn't sleeping well, no one was, but I just couldn't settle in bed that night. It felt too warm in my room so I got up to open a window." His 10 year old self had always struggled with the latch on his window, but not that night. That night it opened without a fuss. "I saw... A figure. Out in the fields. Cast in weird green light that I couldn't put a source to. They were tall, and I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, but I assumed man because there wasn't a hair on its head... I just stared, and it looked to be staring back. Next thing I know, I'm outside in my pajamas, staring up at this pitch black figure... Taller, imposing, faceless. No eyes, no nose, no mouth... And yet it felt like it was glaring hatefully at me. Frustrated, angry... It pointed at the woods and I don't... I don't know what it wanted and I was just a scared kid."

He gulped heavily as he recalled how oppressive everything had felt.

"Again I blacked out, but this time awoke inside to my mother fanning me. My dad was yelling at the cops and it was morning." Sammy frowns "Yelling at them to get that damn thing off his property, and to fuck right off since they were so useless at their damn job."

A soft amen from a member of the writer's department. Followed by a chuckle from another one.

"My throat was raw, and when I tried to ask what happened, my mom told me they'd found me outside at the edge of the woods, screaming until my voice went. Screaming about wanting out of the woods. Screaming about wanting to go home... Screaming that nothing here was good to eat and that I was going to die... I don't recall doing it, and my father said I'd probably had a nightmare of some kind. A fever dream even, since mom had been trying to cool me down for a good reason." He bit his lip "It's odd, I'd just fallen ill overnight and everything was fuzzy... I asked why the cops were here, and my father said when he'd gone to get me he'd spotted a weather balloon of some kind in the woods. The cops were there to take it away."

Everyone stared, confused and trying to figure out how these events connected. He gave them a shrug.

"I have no idea what was going on, so don't ask. I was 10, animals were dying weirdly, and I got so sick all of a sudden that I started sleep walking and hallucinating demonic figures. No one ever said anything about the weather balloon in the local paper either, so I don't even know what to think of that." He leaned against Susie "It was weird, but it stopped. Still that thing kept appearing in my nightmares for a while... It faded with time but it bothered me while it was still fresh in my mind."

"Sounds like aliens." Wally pips up.

"No such thing." Bertrum laughed at the suggestion. "Just a bunch of vandalism, fallen governament property, animal attacks, and a child's overactive imagination."

"No, I'm serious! Stuff like that happens in farms all the time! Stuff no one can explain..."

"Wally, there's tons o' things none can explain in this world already." Norman pointed out. "I'm not sure what sorta thing Sammy might o' stumbled upon as a kid... But little green men don't sound plausible."

"Oh come on, ain't it obvious? Cows gettin' killed, the strange damages? The fallen thing in the woods? The spooky figure? The one person who no one would believe being chosen to see the alien? Then the cops just swoopin' in and covering it up? Happened just the same to my uncle Paul!"

"What I saw wasn't little or green. Don't make it another one of your outlandish tall tales." Sammy grinned, enjoying how much Wally was puffing up.

"Bite your tongue! It ain't a tall tale!"

"Sure it's not."

"Boys don't fight... Because I've got one heck of a story that'll make Norman's and Sammy's feel like child's play!" Susie cut in, with a devilish grin of her own.

And so the night carried on, with more stories to be shared. All the while Sammy laughed and listened, content with the situation.

Although... He did still wonder what he'd seen out in the field. Surely it couldn't have been extraterrestrial.

Hm... Yes, surely not. Just a bad dream and some sick prank. Had to have been.

#Eps Writes: #Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM