Tumgik
#like usually I don’t like instrumentals that much but I never skip these ones because idk it sucks u in!?
jacarandaaaas · 4 months
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no because what did they put into the “waiting on a miracle” instrumental!?? Like that sounds so magical!? like when I think of magic and whimsy THAT is the exact sound I’m thinking of it’s so gorgeous!?? but somehow it manages to sound sad at the same time? like little elements add a melancholy undertone and it’s so good!!! Everytime I listen to that instrumental it’s an experience I am IMMERSED.
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sio-writes · 11 months
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Sacrifice - Chapter 8
<Chapter 7
<<Chapter 1
Summary: This winter has been brutal, and Kyla is out of options. So, with teary eyes, she takes her best goat into the woods, hoping for some pity from whatever god finds her. And oh, she is found.
Tags: Casual alcohol consumption; NSFW; sexual manipulation through edging
Aurelius continues his routine and I continue mine, and we step around each other like ghosts, neither acknowledging the other's presence or ignoring completely. Dachaigh keeps me company while I mull over my conversation with Eodine. 
Aurelius, as it turns out, is very good at hiding, both himself and his things. Dachaigh must be in leagues with him, because after examining every book on the lower floor I still have the exact same information as last week. No other journal or anything written in Aurelius’ handwriting exists where I can reach.
The upper floors are impossible, too. When I try to reach even the closest one, just one level up, the height makes me so dizzy I can barely grab a handful of books before I fall over the railing. I go through each with a swift hand, only stopping to squint at the handwriting before moving onto the next. The process takes up my morning energy, and I quietly pray for the goat’s forgiveness in skipping their breakfast.
But each book I pull down is a dead end. Nothing. And my patience thins with each hour that drags on.
After several days of searching and coming up empty handed, I’m too frustrated to continue. I leave Aurelius’ home and walk down the river path to the changeling cottage, and they greet me with smiles and hugs.
Gregory leads me by the hand to the back of the house, where the group is engrossed in some kind of game. There’s a square folding board on the low table surrounded by an array of drinks, and in the center is a tower of wooden blocks, stacked in alternating rows of three,and several have been removed making the tower lean dangerously to the right. In the corner of the room is a phonograph, much fancier than I've ever seen, softly playing an easy tune with instruments I've never heard before. The music fills the brief pauses, carrying the conversations like boats on a wave.
Sveta offers me her seat, but I don’t know how to play the game, so I find a free spot on the end of the couch and watch until I understand the rules. 
The game starts with a person carefully removing one of the colored blocks from the tower, and written on the block is an action they must perform. If they don’t perform the action, they draw two more blocks, and then four, and then eight and so on. The most common actions involve the drinks such as adding more alcohol or finishing it off and making another, and the other actions are usually small things, like standing on one foot for the duration of the game, or only speaking in chicken squawks. I think Kimiko even threw some household chores in there, given that she smirks each time one of her blocks is drawn.
By the look of the half-empty glasses and opened bottles and tilting tower, they're nearly through with this round. They're all energetic and full of laughter, and it's hard not to laugh with them, leaning in every time someone pulls a block and the tower jolts dangerously. 
Gregory's turn is the last of this round-- he's swaying on his knees as he leans over the table, tapping on the edge of a block with short nails, leaving a single block in the center to carry all the weight above it. The moment Gregory removes his block, the tower collapses and the whole group throws jeers at him. 
Another round is set up, and Sveta turns to me. 
“Kaitlyn, you should play!” she encourages, and I chew the inside of my cheek as I consider it.
I’ve only been out drinking once or twice, when my mother and my schedule both permitted it. But the ale at the town tavern was watered down and chalky, and our tavernkeep lacked the gold for anything of higher quality, so I only needed those few trips to steer me away from the bar for good. But the drinks here are more colorful, the glass bottles of alcohol and spirits on the table remind me of the bathroom soaps that Dachaigh lets me use.
They're all looking at me expectantly, even icy Josefina is staring a challenge, and I am truly interested in this game, the rowdiness and jeering have drawn me in. I finally concede. 
“I suppose so,” I say, and Gregory jumps from the spot he’s standing in, legs fused together from the last block he chose as he hops to the kitchen.
“Whaddya like, Kate?” he shouts. 
“Anything but ale,” I respond as both Sveta and Emile crunch themselves together to make room for me.
Gregory steps out of the kitchen, walking normally and sticking his nose up at the boos and hisses of the others.
"I'm not spilling this beautiful drink," he says as he sets it in front of me. The drink is bubbly, with the top a bright cranberry-red that fades to clear at the bottom, and he's taken a wedge of lime and stuck it to the rim. 
"It's a good beginner cocktail, but you'll wanna stir it first," Gregory says, nudging my shoulder with his own and winking at me. 
I stir the drink with my finger until the whole thing is a pale pink, and then I pop my finger into my mouth. Oh! It is cranberry! And the fizziness reminds me of ale, but with a different taste, it's not bitter or lingering. I most definitely feel the burn of alcohol behind it all, but the cranberry and this sweet fizzy drink have cut through it. 
I take a long sip of my drink and Gregory rests his shoulder against mine. "You like it?" 
"I do, thank you so much."  
The next tower is set up while I sip on my drink, and I share pleasantries with Gregory and Sveta. They tell me to come visit more often, to stop by with more fruit, and it makes me feel warm that they enjoy my company. Kimiko asks about my dress, and when I tell her I made it her mouth opens on an 'O', and starts the others on a tirade of questions about how I made it. 
The dress is one from the fabric stocks from the market, a deep purple with a triangle pattern woven in. It had been one of the nicer fabrics I'd received and wanted to use right away, and their acknowledgment of my craftsmanship makes me want to hide behind my drink. I've always loved to sew.
The game starts with Sveta and goes through each person, and eventually my turn is up. I copy Josefina's method of testing a few blocks with my fingers to see if they're loose, and pull one out with ease, squinting at the small script. “Um, I have to…” I flip the block around, but that doesn’t make the words magically appear.
“My handwriting can’t be that bad,” Gregory jokes, leaning over my shoulder to examine the block.
I puff my cheeks out, indignant. “I’m still learning,” I mutter, embarrassed, but the alcohol numbs the effect.
Gregory reaches for the block, turning it back over, and making a noise of understanding. “It says you can’t speak a word for the next hour,” Gregory says, and blows a stray piece of hair from his face. “Well that’s far too easy for you. You’re as quiet as a church mouse.”
“Draw another,” Sveta says, eyes glittering. They all turn to me with the same expression as Sveta chants, “Do it, do it!” And as the rest join in, I laugh.
Their joy is infectious. I know I need to stand my ground in this world, but this feels like an exception. I’m among friends, I realize, and friends aren’t something I’ve had in years. I want them to like me, I want to gain their approval, to be part of the group even though I don’t live with them. Even Josefina is wearing a smirk as they all lean in. I draw a second block and they all cheer, and it’s hard not to smile at their energy. 
This block is much easier to read: Take a shot. “What’s a shot?”
“It’s a swig of pure alcohol,” Kimiko says.
“That…sounds horrible,” I say, and the others laugh as if I’ve made a joke.
“It is,” Kimiko says, nodding. “That’s why you gotta drink it fast.”
Emile holds up two large bottles, both nearly empty save for a few fingers of clear liquid in the bottom. “Tequila or vodka?”
My head is already pleasantly swimming from the drink Gregory made me, and my words come out before I have a chance to think, “Whichever will get me drunk faster.”
This isn't like me, I usually think before I speak. Should I be worried about what they may get me to do if I become too drunk? My gut tells me 'no' but my gut is also requesting more alcohol, so I'm not sure how trustworthy it is at the moment.
“Tequila, definitely,” Emile says, handing me the bottle in his right hand. It smells foul when I bring it to my nose, and I wonder if the other one would’ve been any better.
"Oo-- wait!" Gregory bounces up and jumps into the kitchen, and comes back with a sliver of lime and the table salt. "Do it this way, makes it easier to swallow."
Sveta snickers behind her hand and Gregory flips her off before showing me the process. Salt on the hand first, then tequila, then bite down on the lime. At first glance it seems like a lot, but I manage to do everything in the right order. The tequila tastes foul, but it warms my belly as it goes down.
The game continues for another hour, another round of drinks and even more shots. There’s laughter and gossip and chatter all around, and it’s easy to fall back and let it take me wherever it needs to go. I’m giddy, I feel lighter than air, I want to spread myself over the couch and take a nap.
Eventually, the game is abandoned in favor of conversation. They’re not confined to a single place like I am, lucky bastards. They can go to and from the market, learn magic on their own time, and even meet up with other fae without worrying about a hulking guardian in their shadow.
Their looks are deceiving as well. Sveta is nearly three times my age, and Gregory claims he was brought here nearly forty years ago.
I originally came here for a break, but maybe they have answers for me. I wait for a lull in conversation before asking, “Do you all know anything about Aure— the forest god?”
“Only that he’s terrifying,” Gregory says, laughing. “But he’s very important. Oversees the forests everywhere.”
I scoot forward. “Has he ever brought another human here?”
Gregory squints. “I dunno. Sveta you’ve been here the longest, has he ever brought a human back?”
Sveta’s head falls heavily to the side as she purses her lips. “Not that I remember.”
Kimiko mutters behind me, “He probably ate them.”
Gregory balks. “Kimi! That’s not nice.”
“What? We’re all thinking it! He’s the most powerful god this side of the world, and he picks a single human to shack up with? Of course there was one before, there’s probably hundreds he brought back! They probably realized how horrifying he is and tried to take off, and he ate them!”
The others laugh, but Emile hums in thought. “That sounds awfully sad,” he says. “To seek out companionship in another only to have them leave.”
Emile has been almost as quiet as I’ve been this evening. Not brooding, but observing. I get the feeling he’s very studious, maybe he could help me learn to read.
“That’s on him, though,” Josefina says. “That’s not the humans’ problem.”
“How do you get rid of something ingrained into your very being, though?”
Kimiko kicks her feet onto the table, brushing several blocks to the floor. “Don’t know, don’t care. Do you wanna live with him?”
“No, but I know someone who already does,” he says, nodding his head towards me.
I move to rub my arm, but overshoot and my hand winds up wrapping around the side and back. "I don't think he's all bad. Kind of pushy, but not cruel."
"Interesting," Kimiko says, leaning forward. "Tell us more.”
My face is already flushed from the alcohol, but I feel it growing steadily worse the longer the group looks at me, and that urge to please them comes back. I tell them what I can, about the house with its winding halls and nonsense layout. I tell them how Aurelius leaves me alone most of the day, of the animals I tend to and the library where I sleep. Telling them feels like unclogging a stream, the words flow forth  and before I know it I’m speaking of our relationship— the woes we’ve been having recently.
I finish my tirade with a huge sigh, letting my chin fall into my hand. “How do I make him listen?”
“How have you gotten his attention in the past?”
I flush as I remember. “Sex, usually.”
“Then do that!”
“Isn’t that…not right?”
She scoffs. “You’re a woman! You have to use what the gods gave you. Besides, you’re not dealing with a regular human, or even a standard fair folk. You’re bargaining with a god.”
I mull over her words for far too long, and GRegory claps me over the shoulder. “Kimi’s right, you’ve got to use what you’re given.”
I hum, thinking it over. It doesn’t sit easy in my stomach, but it’s the only thing I haven’t tried yet, the only thing left. I don’t want to manipulate Aurelius through this, but what other choice has he given me?
Sveta’s eyes glitter as she says, “Let us know how it works out.”
***
The walk back and a skein of water clears my head enough for me to walk up the stairs and navigate the halls back to the library. It's still difficult; the sun has long since gone down and I've never navigated the path in the dark before, let alone walking it backwards and slightly inebriated. But I make it back, carefully stepping around a each book I’d tossed aside.
We haven’t spoken since he confessed his love for me. Would he be suspicious of my actions? Pick up on the deception? Even thinking of deceiving Aurelius through such a manner makes my mouth sour. I tip the remaining water into my mouth and swallow as I think.
He’s not listened to me in a way that matters, not since we came here. I want him to hear me, to see me as more than a pet or trinket to be toted around. I’m not a handbag, and he needs to see things my way. If the only way is to train his attention on something else while I get what I need, then so be it.
And I’m pretty enough to pull this off! My hair is clean and my skin unblemished, my frame isn’t too manish from chores or my nails dirty. I’m decent at sex, I suppose I could be better, more confident in my abilities. The show I’d put on for Aurelius at the altar had been a good start, but what else is there?
The world tilts as I swing my legs over the sill and stand far too fast, but I have my wits about me in a moment’s time. I can do this, I can.
The door to Aurelius’ room is heavier than I remember, but I may be weaker at the moment. Still, it slides open without a sound and I step into the warm air of his quarters.
I whisper to the room, “Aurelius?”
No response. Listening, I hear the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing. Perfect.
As I crawl into the nest and around Aurelius' huge sleeping animal body, he rouses awake.
“Kyla…?” He says, voice low, lifting his head to look at me. He stills, taking in my nudity. “Are you hurt?”
He surges forward, inky arms coming from his form to pat me down. They're warm from sleep, warmer than usual, soft and attentive in their motions.
“I’m fine, I’m fine! I just…” I trail off, shifting my weight from foot to foot. No, this won't do. Confidence. If I want something, I have to take it. I grab one of the hands that was patting me down and hold it to my breast.
Aurelius pauses, parsing my meaning, and a low, pleased growl making me and the whole nest shiver. Without another word, shadowy tendrils pick me up off the ground, holding my wrists together and my legs apart. I kick and thrash with what little movement I'm allowed as Aurelius grabs one of my feet and presses my knee to my chest. “Wait!” 
He stops immediately, hovering over me in that massive, animalistic form. “Is this not part of the game?”
I shake my head, deciding to unpack that comment later, and give him my best pout. “I want to play a different game. Would you lie back for me?”
He stares at me for a long moment, before releasing me from his grasp and setting me down on the floor. “As you wish,” he says quietly. His form shrinks to the one I’m familiar with, the shadowy cloak falling away to reveal the rest of his body. Still like a man’s body, with long limbs and dark skin that blends into the shadows and shimmers out of focus the longer I look at it. His skin is rough like cloth, and the muscle underneath flexes as he moves.
“You weren’t here today,” he says, keeping his gaze on me as I throw my dress over my head. It lands in a far corner of the nest, where I can get to it later.
"I was with friends," I reply quietly.
"The humans," he growls, and I nod. "You're supposed to stay here."
"I’m not doing that," I say, surprising myself with how firm my voice is.
Aurelius doesn't ask me anything further after that. He remains reclined like I asked, but I see his hands flexing against the floor as I step forward and spread my fingers over his belly.
“Why don’t you show me this more?” I ask as I run my hand up his stomach. I’m so preoccupied with seeing him— truly seeing him since that first time— that I nearly miss how his breath hitches at my touch. My heart skips over itself in nervousness. This is going to be easy.
“What is this new game?” He asks instead, long hands wrapping around my wrist and pulling me forward. My hand glides up over his ribs, past his chest to land on his shoulder.
“It’s called, uh, bartering,” I say.
Aurelius stares at me, and says flatly, “I know what bartering is.”
I grin, showing my teeth. “Wonderful! Then you already know how to play.”
I swing my leg over his hips and smooth my hands up his chest. I can't lose myself to him this time, I need my wits about me if I want this to go the way I need it to. The notion of what I’m about to do as some sort of transaction has that sour feeling returning, but I push it back. As much as I don’t like it, this is how we fit together, there isn’t an alternative. 
My heart lurches again-- even when I’m just sitting on him, I can already feel him hardening against my ass. 
"I give you something," I say, reaching behind my back and blindly feeling until my hand wraps around his cock. "You give me something back."
Aurelius doesn't immediately respond, and even props himself up on his arms like he means to throw me off. Instead, he leans forward, reaching out a hand as if to cup my face. But he stops at the last moment, so close I can feel the heat of his skin, and pulls his hand back and lowers himself to the floor. 
"Alright," he mumbles, almost too low for me to hear, and he sounds sad. I need to fix that.
I throw my leg back over his hips so I'm kneeling at his side, and I grasp his half-hard cock with both hands. My fingers don't meet at the widest part and even with stacked fists the head of him breaches my fingers. He's still as big as I remember him. 
He hardens fully at my touch, and I'm flattered that he still feels this way, I was so sure I'd ruined myself for him. I want to meet his starry eyes, but I can't bring myself to do it. It's too much, but I have to push forward. 
I shift my hand down so I can lick over the tip, tonguing the sensitive underside as I gently squeeze my hands. He tastes of iron, sharp and subtle, and smells like the forest. I take the head of him into my mouth and he gasps, the hand closest to me resting on the back of my head, brushing my hair away from my face, and I want him to leave it there, to guide me because I have no idea what I’m doing, but that’s not part of this game.
I pull off with a wet noise, spit lewdly trailing from my lips to his cock, and I frown up at him. “No, hands down.”
Immediately, his hand disentangles from my hair, and I do want the warmth back, but I can focus better like this. The branching antlers at the back of his head have his head set at an odd angle, but even with his snout pointed towards the ceiling, I can feel his gaze on me, watching.
I swallow hard. His gaze is intense, it makes me want to perform well. Like when he watched me strip, I want to please him, I want to surprise him somehow. 
I squeeze my thighs together as I lean forward and take his cock into my mouth again, releasing my top hand so I can take it further down. The lowest I can go without gagging is only halfway, so I move my hands in time with my head to make up the difference. 
At the contact, Aurelius chokes a noise, shifting his hips again as I bob my head at a slow, steady pace. 
I learn quickly that he enjoys certain things: attention on the head, and a forceful pace over a faster one. I have no idea if this is working, or if I’m even doing this right, but I follow the sounds he makes, the noises he swallows down. 
The only time I ever heard about this sort of fucking was gossip with the ladies of town. They spoke of how unpleasant it was, how their husbands always wanted it. But I don’t find this unpleasant. I only have to worry about the growing arousal between my legs which is easy to ignore, leaving me able to focus on Aurelius. His hips twitch when I squeeze my hands, his claws are pulling up that layer of down on the floor, and his breathing is almost in time with my movements. 
This is a heady feeling, I realize as I twist my hands and run my tongue over his head again, tasting salt and heat. Aurelius gasps beneath me, and another bead of precome blooms over my tongue. I wait for another, when his breathing turns ragged and his legs begin to shake, to pull away with an obscene sound.
He groans to the ceiling, and his cock twitches in my hands. He turns his head down to me fully, and huffs a breath through his nose.
"Why did you stop?"
My smile is easy, and my heart is racing. "I need something from you."
"Kyla…" he warns, his voice a low growl. I frown, but I'm frowning at myself. I must not have done well enough.
I sit up and straddle his hips, lifting myself onto my knees and positioning the glistening head of his cock at my entrance. The position forces me to settle the rest of my weight on my free hand, which I place directly over his heart. "Please?" I ask, pouting.
Before he can respond, I sink my hips down. It's not without pain, but I can push it to the back of my mind for now. The moment I settle my weight on his hips, Aurelius moans outright, something I haven't heard before. 
While I adjust, my hazy mind grinds away. I can't ask about the other human right out of the gate, I'll need a smaller favor so this doesn't backfire. I rest my other hand next to the first, and I feel his heartbeat like a bird underneath my fingers.
"I want more magic." 
Aurelius rests his hands on my waist. "Of course."
"Hands down," I order, and he starts like he's been shocked. His hands hover over my legs for a breath, before he sets them back on the ground, palms against the floor. I shiver at the rush of power that moves through me. I grind my hips forward and back, chasing my own pleasure on that rush, disregarding why I started this and instead finding something else. 
Oh, how I've missed this. The few times we've had sex since I've been here have been so…emotionally charged, like electricity beneath my fingers, here one moment and gone the next. But this, this is heat under my skin, the sun against my face, a spiraling pool of pleasure where I don't have to worry about any negative emotions. It's like the first time.
"Gods, this feels good," I moan, and Aurelius bucks beneath me. 
Slowly I gain my faculties, slowing my hips and eventually stopping. “Will you teach me more magic?”
He groans, a fist thumping against the floor. “When I have the time.”
I roll my hips once and he twitches like I've hit him. “That’s not an answer.”
He exhales, and I feel the strain in his muscles as he remains still. "Whatever you want."
I grind my hips slowly. "I want more magic."
"Of course."
I reward him with an agonizingly slow pace, and I have to hold back a laugh as he shudders beneath me. His hips are moving with mine, little thrusts he can't control that shove his cock that much deeper into me. It pushes the air from my lungs, and spurs me on. "Are you going to give it to me?"
"Yes," he breathes. "Yes, I will."
This is dangerous. I feel powerful, untouchable. I could ask him for anything-- no, I could command him to do anything, and he'd be at my mercy. This all-powerful god is like wet clay in my hands.
But then, like a clap of lightning, I remember that he's lied to me, that he's toted me around like an object, treated me like an afterthought. I remember why I'm doing this, and all the heat under my skin, all the arousal and feeling of power, pops. My stomach churns as I realize I can't bring myself to finish this.
I stop all movement, slipping forward and off his cock, and he whines. "Kyla…"
"Will you—“
“Now,” Aurelius growls. 
Despite the ice in my veins, the nest is getting warmer by the second, and I'm not sure how much longer he's going to last. It's now or never. “Was there another human before me?”
The very air freezes with the next thump of my heart. 
“Where did you get that idea?” he says slowly, and I want to slam my hands on his chest. The fair folk won’t lie, but that doesn't mean they aren't capable. 
“Tell me and I’ll let you come,” I say, pushing my hips back until I feel the hard length of him pressing against my ass. I'm losing control of the situation fast. I need answers.
Aurelius growls, and there’s a timbre to it, pitched low and dangerous. He used this on Gregory when he took me away from the market, and again when he brought me back. He’s angry. Not the fun, teasing anger that arouses me, but the hard, volatile anger of an ancient god with an ego.
“Who told you?” he asks, voice quiet and dangerous, which only sparks my anger brighter.
“You lied to me,” I press, leaning forward and bracing my hands on his chest. “So what happened?” And when Aurelius doesn’t reply, my anger comes out full force. “Did you eat them? Kill them? Tell me!"
Aurelius sits up in a flash, and I tumble to the side of the nest. As I fumble to my hands and knees, angry tears prick at my eyes. "What else are you keeping from me? What else have you lied about?!" I stand on shaking legs and wipe the tears as they fall.
Aurelius rights himself, sitting, and crosses his arms over his chest. "It was for your protection."
"It's for your protection!"
"Don't be ridicu-- Kyla!" He tries to stop me as I snatch my dress and storm out as fast as my legs will allow me. I take the barest of moments to pull the dress over my head before I'm fleeing Dachaigh and headed towards the Forest of Souls.
I can't do this anymore. I don't want to be here. And I know of a place where he'll never find me again.
I don't have any books, any extra clothes, I don't even have food or water, but I don't care. Anything is better than staying here for another minute.
I'm several dozen steps towards the forest when I pause to catch my breath. I ran all the way through Dachaigh to get out, and I ran until I was under moonlight and then some more. I'm nearly to the treeline, that soft lilting melody calling to me again, when I look back.
Dachaigh still towers up to the heavens, an obelisk in the nighttime air, as if she's swallowing the sky itself.
With space to think now, I'm hit with a pang of melancholy. I can't consider this place home, but living within those walls has been comfortable. Dachaigh is a good friend, and when Aurelius was there I enjoyed his company. It wasn't enough, but what little I did get, I treasured. The animals will miss me, I think, and I'll miss the routine. Mortimer may wonder where I've gone, and I wonder how long it will take him to realize that I'm not coming back. I won't be able to see Gregory, or Sveta, or Kimiko. I'll even miss Josefina's tilted smirks.
I turn back to the forest, and run straight into a solid shadow.
“Where are you going?” Aurelius asks, arms crossed over his chest. He's pulled himself to his full height, towering over me and blocking my line of sight to the forest. He's wearing the traveling cloak he always does, although it's askew over his shoulders as if he rushed to put it on. I stumble back, if only to allow myself space to breathe.
“I…I…”
He tilts his head like a bird, this way and that, getting a better look at me, and says again, angrily, “I ask again: Where are you going?”
I straighten, solid in my confidence. “I’m leaving.”
“You can’t,” he says simply.
I scoff. “And why not?”
“I will find you.”
“Not if I want to be lost!”
He growls, the sound reminding me of a predator. “I will not let you.”
“Like hell you will!” I push past him, making a wide arc and trying to run again.
I’m only a handful of steps past Aurelius when his large arm wraps over my waist and yanks me back. He pulls me into his body, his head above me, and he laughs. It's a chilling sound, his great jaw opening and his teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “You think you can escape me? I’ve already marked you as mine.”
I struggle against his grip the same way an insect struggles against a spider's web. “I don’t want it! I want to leave!” I push myself out of his grasp and the second I hit the ground, I start to run.
“Kyla!” He shouts, but I keep running. Almost there, almost there! “You will listen to me!”
“I’m done!” I shout back, and it hurts, oh it hurts so much to say. I’m leaving both Aurelius and my heart on the ground in front of his home. "I'm done with the whims of a single forest god!"
He catches up easily, and I'm back to struggling against his grip again. His growl shakes the trees, rumbles the very ground I'm standing on. “I am the god of every forest.”
“You do not have domain over me!” I struggle in his vice-like grip, tears streaming down my face. I was so close, so close. “Get the fuck off—I hate you!”
Aurelius pauses, and I know I hit a nerve. I didn't mean it-- it just came out. I want to correct myself, but I struggle to find the point. It's what it took for Aurelius to let me go.
The grass is wet and cold beneath my bare feet as he gently sets me down. I gather my skirts in one hand-- it'll make my trek through the underbrush quicker.
"If you wish to leave," he starts, slowly releasing me from his grasp and angling me towards the wood.
The quick change in his demeanor throws me off course. I snap my head around to look at him, and I see that he's shrinking down, skull transforming from that sharp-toothed predator I saw at the market and into his normal deer.
"Then go," he snaps, jaw clicking shut.
I take a step forward. The forest is pitch black, I can't make out anything beyond the treeline. The energy wafting from it is dangerous, yet tempting. I could truly get lost in there. Alone for eternity.
Even still, I look back at Aurelius. He's sat on the ground, legs curled up, long arms wrapped around them. His great head rests on his knees, angled towards me, watching. Not like a predator about to pounce, but a creature resigned to its own pain. When he sits on the ground like this, only his antlers are taller than me.
I look back to the forest, and I hear her whispering call, a lullaby to lure me into the depths of this ancient, consuming wood. Closing my eyes, I sway to the soft tune, a melody that rolls over itself, transforming and rearranging. It wants me to play, wants me to join them.
The spell is broken, interrupted by a low whine, like an injured animal. It's coming from behind me, and I suck in a breath as I turn just far enough to see Aurelius out of the corner of my eye. He's still sitting on the ground, watching me, and I'm hit with a realization.
I don't want to leave him, not forever. I want to get away from this harmful, sticky relationship that we're in. One where I have to get him mad to make him listen to me. Where he doesn't take me seriously until I threaten to harm myself.
Without a word, I close the distance between us. He remains still, even when I grab his great skull with both hands. His voice is barely audible, "I will miss you terribly." 
And heaving a sigh, his form melts into the ground, along with it his skull, which shrinks down. He's making himself small for my benefit again.
This is the Aurelius I want to talk to. The understanding, calm one, as opposed to the volatile, angry god I've been interacting with.
I sigh through my nose, and avoid the urge to sit with him, standing my ground. I haven't fully decided to stay, not yet. "What happened to the other humans you brought here, Aurelius?"
Sensing my hesitation, Aurelius leans into my touch, but I'm not ready for that yet, so I pull away and let my hands rest at my side. I need the truth, even if it's just to know why.
"There was only one before you," he says. "It was just as I've said: he ran in fear. I lost him in the woods." Again, he tries to knock my arm with his head in his form of intimacy, but I twist away from it. He rears his head up in offense, but when I make no moves to reciprocate, he rests his chin back over his knees. 
"You lied to me," I say.
"I did."
"Why?"
It’s a long, quiet moment before he answers slowly, "I did not want the cycle of time to roll over again. I asked him the same that I asked you, and he said yes. So, I brought him here. " 
His head tilts the other way, resting on his folded arms. "And he hated it here, as you do. He hated our home, hated this place. Recoiled at my touch and refused to speak to me. And then one morning, he was gone." He shifts uncomfortably. "But you called me beautiful, and I thought this time would be different. I knew once I had you that I'd never find another. So I did everything with you that I didn’t with him. I gave you space, let you be. I was just happy to have our home filled with life again." 
I look back to the woods as I turn his words over in my head. The temptation to leave has weakened, but I can still feel it. Eodine's words float back to me: No one would ever bother you anymore.
And that doesn't sound bad. Peaceful, even. But would I enjoy that life? Is that the way I want to live? I'd be alone, forever. I'd never see another human, or even another soul, for that matter, and I don't want to take a path like that. Could I live without companionship for eternity? I was willing to give up my entire life for this god to stay by my side. 
I sigh, to myself and the world around me. No matter what path I take, a path away from Aurelius would be…lacking. I'd miss him terribly, just as he'd miss me. 
I run my thumb along a line of silver in Aurelius' antlers, the shape closer to the branch of a tree than any kind of animal. He's shown me so little of himself, but I haven't shown him much of myself either. If we have the rest of eternity together, I'd like the chance to know him better, and let him know me. 
"Aurelius…" I say, sighing. "I'm not afraid of you. But you treat me like an object. I'm not a pet."
“I taught you magic,” he says. “I involved you in the festival planning and brought you gifts. I wouldn’t do that for a pet.”
I sigh, pushing a lock of hair from my face. "I sleep alone, I eat alone, and I live my life in that library, alone. When we're actually together it feels like you're a ghost. You cart me around like a child and treat me like—" I stop myself, my air coming out in a rush. "You asked me to plan your festival and then discounted all of my notes."
"But it is tradition to lay the vendors a certain way," he says, tone soft and conversational. 
I roll my eyes. "Is it tradition to bring a human into your home?"
He pauses, which tells me that he hadn’t considered it. "I suppose not," he says. 
He did remember that I wanted to learn magic, something I mentioned nearly a month ago; he chased after me thinking I had been stolen, and put a tracking spell on me so he’d never lose me again. He thinks he loves me, and whatever that may mean truly, to him it's something important.
He sighs, mimicking me with a dramatic heave of his shoulders. "Much of the time, I am a stone in the river, pushing everything around me and unable to change my own path. I was trying to give you space so you would want to remain here, so you weren't afraid."
That makes sense, in a strange, Aurelius-esque way. It’s almost sweet, him realizing that his presence frightens others and taking steps to minimize it. I rest my hands over top one of his, and he turns his palm sideways to curl his fingers around mine.
"You left me alone," I mutter. “You know I don’t like that.”
"You weren't alone."
I try not to roll my eyes or smile. He said it so genuinely. "Dachaigh isn't you."
He speaks slowly, as if in realization, "You…prefer me." 
He sounds so surprised that I can't help but laugh. “I do.”
“You want to be with me.”
I snort. "All the power you wield, and you couldn’t piece together that I enjoy your company."
"You want to eat meals with me."
"I do."
"You want to sleep with--" I cover his snout with my hands, laughing.
"Yes, yes, you big dummy! I like being around you, except when you're being rude and pushy. I like this world you've brought me to, and the home you’ve opened up to me. I like--" I stop and bite my tongue before I say something lewd.
But the stars in his eyes sparkle as he asks, "Yes?"
And I'm very bad at denying him. "I like getting you so angry that you fuck me within an inch of my life."
He chuffs. "There are other ways to get me to fuck you."
"But," I flush, looking resolutely at his bony snout and not his eyes. "I enjoy that way."
He hums, low and approving. "Because you are mine."
"Yes," I say softly, enjoying the word on my tongue. "At least, I want to be."
"Then you are," he says, leaning forward to knock my head with his, but he stop halfway, waiting for me. I reach out my arms and pull him forward, closing the gap. My temple gently taps the side of his head, and warmth curls in my chest at the contact.
"This is called a truce. I'm giving you another chance." Even saying it has me feeling lighter. I have confidence in Aurelius, I know he can do better. I've seen it.
He hums. “How am I to repay you?" 
I let my head fall against his chest, and I can feel his heartbeat in my ear, quick yet strong. "Not everything is a debt to be paid." 
"It is here." His voice vibrates through his chest.
"Not between us." Not anymore. I feel the very spark of my being, maybe it's my soul, release all the tension I'd been holding for the past month as I relax into Aurelius.
The pull of the forest, that steady, whispering voice that promised me a life of solitude, is gone.
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zoubissoux · 2 years
Text
party favours
summary: your best friend robin is in a bit of a pickle, and who else to help her out is there, but you? did she forget to mention eddie munson?
word count: 2.6k
warnings: mentions of drugs, drug use, FLUFFFFFFFF
“seriously, robin. if i wanted to be arrested for drug possession, i could think of a million other ways to do it.”
“really? you?”
you closed the lid on your flute, sitting snug as a bug in a rug within its case. “really. me.”
robin scoffed as she threw her trumpet with little care into its case, shutting its locks with a click. “for some unknown reason,” she eyeballed, looking you up and down, “you make that very hard to believe. besides, you’d really be doing me a favour here. you owe me, remember?”
“remind me?”
“last month when you skipped band practice to go to the mall? i had to tell mrs. blancher you came down with the craziest case of diahorrea?”
your fellow bandmates were slowly filing out of the music room, the blanket of chatter slowly leaving with them. hoping to escape this ploy you were very obviously being dragged into, you threw a handle of your backpack over your shoulder and grabbed your instrument off your chair. “you sure that was a favour?”
hurriedly grabbing her things and following close on your heels into the hallway, robin was growing desperate. “okay, okay, okay. i know it might not have been the best excuse, but i did it out of the goodness of my own heart! doesn’t that count for something?”
“okay, whatever. why can’t you just go get it yourself? i don’t understand why i have to go for you.”
“because i just so happen to have a shift at the video store with steve and won’t have time to do much else before the party.”
you rolled your eyes.
“pretty please? please, please, please do this eensie weensie little thing for me?” robin clutched her hand’s together so tightly that her knuckles were almost white, eyes scrunched closed in prayer.
despite not being friends for a very long time, you had to admit that your soft spot for robin ran pretty deep, as much as you liked to hide it. “alright! okay,” you sighed in admission. “i’ll go see munson.”
lunch was a sort of organised chaos - one that you never really had to think about beyond getting your food and walking to your usual table near the windows. if you really focused and examined your peers’ seating arrangements, you might be able to find some sort of hierarchy, but admittedly you were more interested in the food in front of you.
robin came into your field of consciousness with the grace of a baby deer, slamming her lunch tray onto the clear space of table next to you and making herself comfortable on the bench seat. “ah, how we meet again!” she laughed, nudging your shoulder.
“very funny, rob.” you laughed in response, nudging her back. “study period got you on the ritz again?”
“you know it. but something else has been nagging me even more, believe it or not.” she sighed into her meatloaf before downing a heaped spoonful. oh no, you think, i was hoping she forgot about that.
“i have.. almost this sixth sense.. that you’re avoiding the the task i so graciously handed off to you yesterday.” she raised her spoon at you, eyes reduced to slits. “am i right?”
you shrugged, quietly picking at the mystery meat in front of you. “i haven’t forgotten, don’t worry. just.. waiting for the right time.”
as if thinking the same thing, you both turn your heads to peer at the table a few from your own.
eddie munson was quite the character. ever since you started at hawkins’ high as a freshman and first seen him in the flesh, you had held a sort of fascination with him. you’ve always preferred keeping your head down and keeping to yourself, it’s always been easier to handle the lack of drama when you’d always been sort of… forgettable. the main character in a filler episode type of personality. but this boy never seemed to care what others thought of him - the mischevious smile that never failed to reach his eyes, that playful glint in his eye; it was enough to piss people off, but you found yourself a little jealous of his reckless abandon. your memory of him doesn’t pale in comparison to how he appears in front of you now, it only created a clearer picture.
although you couldn’t exactly tell what he and his friends were talking about, you could still hear the echoes of his voice travel across the cafeteria and see his arms wildly gesticulating something to the boys sitting around him. if you hadn’t known any better, from this angle he looked a bit like an excited kid (albeit, a kid two years older than you).
as if he could feel your gaze on him, he whipped his head around to look in your direction. he caught you staring long enough to throw you a questioning look. you continued to blankly stare at him before being ripped out of your reverie by a painful pinch from your neighbour. “eks-nay on the staring-ay, doofus.”
you quickly realised that you were basically staring all googly-eyed at eddie munson and were caught in the act by none other than the aforementioned party. “fuck. FUCK.” your hand flew to your brow to shield yourself from his view as you began to closely examine your meatloaf.
robin sounded exasperated, joining in on your stealth mission. “you better hope he doesn’t charge extra after that stunt you just pulled.”
“surely not? besides, its not like he’ll remember who i am.” you sneak a peek back at his table through your fingers to see if he was still looking your way. huh. “okay, coast is clear. he’s gone.” it seemed a bit strange that he had just disappeared, but you decided not to question it and count your blessings.
“i swear to god, it feels like the universe is throwing obstacle after obstacle at me in the revelation that i might have some fun tonight.” you let out a breathy laugh at robin’s epiphany, resting your head on her shoulder.
“god, you’re telling me. i never knew this would stress me out so much. i haven’t even asked munson to meet yet!” you let out another giggle, too slow to realise that your friend had gone stiff.
“what do you mean you haven’t asked munson to meet yet?” you lifted your head to meet robin’s raised eyebrow.
“well, i mean- i was going to do it later.. like at last period, or something? isn’t that how it works?” something tells you that no matter what you said here was the wrong answer.
“y/n…” robin shook her head. “at least give him some notice! i bet ten dollars we will not be his only customers today and his services will be in high demand. you have to ask him now. like as soon as possible.”
you found yourself at a loss for words. just as you were about retort back at robin for not giving you any sort of direction, an unfamiliar voice answered for you.
“ask me what?”
eddie was standing right behind you and robin. dear god.
robin was the first to turn around with a sheepish grin. “heeey, munson.. we were just talking about you.”
you gulped, hoping that the floor would just swallow you whole and you wouldn’t have to sit through this interaction any longer.
“yeah i figured. saw your friend checking me out all the way from my table,” he smirked, turning his attention toward you.
his indignance seemed to awaken a little fire within you, causing you to sit up straight and look at him dead in the eye. “i… was not.”
eddie let a small chuckle escape his lips. somehow your feigned confidence served as an invitation for him to make himself comfortable on the bench seat next you. turning his body toward you, he rested his chin in his hand and grinned maniacally at you. “so, what did you want to ask me?”
seeing the infamous troublemaker up close was a lot more pleasing to the eye than you originally thought. you didn’t exactly have the luxury of time to inspect his every feature, but you knew that roguish sparkle in his eye belonged to him. besides, his cocky act was enough to piss you off a little bit. “for weed, munson.” you decided to mimic his smile, resting your own chin in your hand. “were you hoping for something else?”
“honestly? yeah,” he moved closer, testing your resolve. your faces were nothing but a breath away from each other; it took everything in you not to shuffle backwards into the safety of robin. “but i can be patient.” his brown eyes flittled between your eyes and your lips so quickly you could have imagined it. he suddenly stood up and stepped away from the table to take a bow. “i shall be seeing you at the park bench in the woods at 4pm, m’lady.”
“oh.. okay.” you both sat there watching eddie, dumbfounded. it was as if what just happened was a hallucination - he shot you a wink over his shoulder as he left the cafeteria and disappeared into the hallway.
you turned to robin to get some look of reprieve, only to be met with a gaze that said i told you so. “could’ve been worse, right?”
there was a notable chill in the air; the leaves were yellow, orange and red and while some of them held on for dear life, most of their fellow leaves created a colourful palette on the forest floor.
counting the leaves one by one was the only thing holding you together right now. all that was running through your head - or rather, that you were trying to distract yourself from thinking about - was how you embarrassed yourself so collosally at lunch. what were you thinking? what was that whole thing? eddie is kinda weird.. isn’t he? well, it explains a lot of what you’ve heard and seen thus far.
oh man, who cares anyway? you think to yourself. it’s not i’m ever going to speak to him again. it’s not like he’ll remember me beyond whatever happened today.
you stretched your jumper sleeves over your hands and scrunched the material up in your palm, obscuring any lingering cold breeze that dared to slip through.
yeah, it’s fine. i’m so fine. i’m just going to do the deal, head to the party and forget any of this ever happened.
“hey-“
so enrapped in your own thoughts, you didn’t expect to hear a voice coming from behind you, sending you flying up from your seat with a yell.
“woah, sorry. didn’t mean to scare you.” eddie stepped back with his hands up, one still being occupied holding a small metal box.
you took a second to gather yourself before sitting back down. “it’s fine. sorry about that.” you were trying to push out the thought that you have just embarrassed yourself for the second (or was it third?) time in front of this guy and you weren’t sure if you could handle another stint of this.
the table seemed like an awfully interesting subject of focus instead of the drug dealer who was now circling back to sit across from you. from the corner of your eye, you could see eddie trying to hold back a grin, his lips pursed into a thin line. just my fucking luck. ugh.
“so-“
“well-“
you lifted your head to look up at him to find a familiar pair of brown eyes looking straight back at you. you couldn’t help but mirror the grin eddie projected, and before you knew it, you both burst into laughter.
“god, sorry! i’m a bit of a nervous mess, aren’t i?” you giggle sheepishly, scratching the back of your ear.
“understatement of the year,” eddie chuckled, playing with the latch on the little box. “we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. just say the word.”
the wall you created around yourself softened to clay at his comforting words. maybe he wasn’t so scary after all? or is that just what he wanted you to think?
“thanks, but i’m good.” you nodded to yourself. “how much does thirty dollars get me?”
“maybe enough for a small family of 4?” eddie answered back in disbelief. “didn’t peg you as the type.” he raised his eyebrows at his container, leisurely collecting the goods together.
you almost corrected him, but your curiousity got the best of you. “the type to what?”
“oh i don’t know,” he threw his hands up. “the type to buy a pound of weed out of the blue?”
“thought this was a ‘no questions asked’ kind of transaction?” you raised your brow, causing eddie to bite down his lip bashfully and continue to carefully scoop the leaves into a little bag for you. “but you’re right, munson. it’s not for me - it’s for robin and her other friends.”
“oh yeah?” he pressed the bag shut along the suction closure at the top. “big party tonight?”
“you haven’t heard? it’s at patrick’s house on cornwall.” eddie looked at you blankly. “patrick mckinney? on the basketball team?”
“ah, that explains it.” you and eddie exchange packages; three ten dollar bills for a medium sized ziploc bag filled with little balls of green. “you haven’t heard? those assholes are allergic to freaks. not that i care to get to know the monkey living in their empty skulls.” he looks down at the money in his hands for a beat, before shuffling it back into the box.
“well… i wouldn’t say you’re a freak.” you squeezed your lips together. as best as you tried to keep to yourself, it was definitely hard to ignore the bullying that went on. it wasn’t fair to the hellfire club to keep taking all the ignorant insults thrown their way. over a board game? and music? are you serious? you couldn’t believe people were so dense.
“really?” you had piqued eddie’s interest. maybe that moment in the cafeteria earlier wasn’t a one off occurence. “what would you call me?”
you looked at eddie. really looked at him. from his wild curly hair, brown eyes shimmering with curiousity, mischevious grin, all the way down to the chunky rings he adorned - he looked nothing like a freak. he was cute, you’d admit it to yourself, but never to him. “i would call you… interesting.”
“hm!” he smiled widely, nodding to himself. “well, you might be the only one who thinks so. thanks.”
without even touching them to check, you could tell your ears were burning bright red. “anytime, munson.”
sitting across from each other just smiling had you both fidgeting with nothing after a few minutes. “well, i guess i should be going.”
“oh. yeah. sure,” eddie seemed to be caught up in his own thoughts until you started getting up. following your lead, he awkwardly waited for you to gather your things before he joined you on the walk back down to the parking lot.
“is this not a violation of customer policy or something?” you joked, hiding a grin.
eddie looked over at you, metal box jingling in his arms as he walked beside you. “maybe,” he shrugged. “gotta say, our hr department sucks.”
you giggled, covering your mouth as you did. “i kinda wish you were coming tonight.”
“really?”
you have no idea where this sudden rush of confidence came from; it was a total 180 from earlier today. explaining this stir in your chest after such a brief interaction was bound to sound ridiculous once it left your mouth, so you decided against it. “really.”
eddie did little to hide the grin spreading across his face. “maybe i could make a quick stop on the way home.” he looked over at you, brown pools of hope clouding his eyes. “do you need a ride?”
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vinvantae · 2 years
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Hi, could you write something about Daniel dating a cello player? Thank you
More Drabble than a one shot because I don’t know much about cellists. Hope you enjoy!
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Heart Strings
The Australian used to hate fancy galas - the false pretension, the flashing of cash and the kiss-assery that seemed to fill the air. He never felt like he could really he himself, his usually funny man persona having noses turned up at.
But then he met you.
You didn’t even pay him much mind during them, much too busy dancing your fingers across the neck of your cello, running the bow across the strings. There was nothing more beautiful to him than seeing you at one with your instrument, playing in harmony with your orchestra.
His heart skipped a beat when your eyes opened and immediately fell on him, like you knew exactly where he was. You threw him a playful wink before turning your attention back to your sheet music.
“Can’t believe you’re dating a cellist.” Lando came up beside him and handed him a drink. “Far too classy for you, bro.”
“I thought that, but she’s a massive goofball.” He chuckled. “She’s something special.”
He had to try and not let his mind wander too far but he couldn’t help but remember his favourite memory. It was a lazy Sunday morning in France, the sun streaming through the gap in the blinds and you were practicing for an upcoming event - wearing nothing but his T-shirt and a pair of pants, no makeup, just you. Sure, in the beautiful black silk dress you wore this evening you were truly a marvel to look at, he loved being able to see you embrace your natural beauty too.
“She’s finished if you’re done staring.” Lando teased, nudging his teammate.
Daniel threw back the last of his drink before moving across the room to you, grinning as you approached him - throwing your arms around him. “Hi baby.”
“Hi, my love. Beautiful performance as always.”
“You liked?”
He nodded, kissing your nose. “Always do.”
“Mhmm, thank you. Now let’s get home, these heels are fucking killing me.” You giggled.
He took your hand and proudly lead you out of the building, glad he could call you his.
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renrenlady · 1 year
Text
Ranking Shaperaverse Songs from Worst to Best Within Their Album
First up:
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24- Voodoopunk
Listen. I have listened to every single one of Paul’s albums. I’ve hunted each and every one down and listened to the ones I could get my grubby hands on. I’m very familiar with his work and his musical habits (he has a very particular set of trademarks ie: symbol crash to end a song, repetitive word/lyric use throughout albums to create a through line, etc) but one thing that just does not resonate, does not vibe with me are these very long winded instrumental songs interspersed with singing. I’m a huge lyric person, so I definitely have a bias and it’s not that the music itself is bad, but this song is always gonna be a skip for me. I’m just not gonna sit and listen to pretty much the same thing over and over again, although I would LOVE to see this performed live. I think it would be incredibly fun, but from a listening standpoint, there are much better songs on this album.
23- Edgar Builds a Business
There’s gotta be a worst and best, and unfortunately this lands on the former side of that scale. Despite me absolutely loving Kate coming in with the connective tissue, the central theme of the show (really, all of Paul’s shows if you think about it) “circles never stop themselves” it isn’t enough to get past the extremely repetitiveness of the song. One could make the argument that, because we are heading for a more industrious/business era it’s only natural for the song to be repetitive and maybe even a little boring. One could also argue that because Edgar is such a boring little evil incel bitch, perhaps he’s meant to have such a tedious song. Whatever the case may be, it has a lot of verses, lots of instrumental breaks and it usually also gets a skip, unless I’m listening for lore purposes. I have to admit that the second to last verse where he addresses the issue he has with Silof is my favorite part of the song, it really lets us peak into his head after the break up and is almost the epitome of his evil if not for the last verse/conversation he has with a recently divorced Fay over dinner. (Side note- I absolutely love the headcanon that Silof is Amelia’s father. I don’t know if that’s canon or been made canon, but it’s absolutely delicious and makes DoNA a complete circle with no loose ends.)
22- New Albion 3
The lesser out of the four. While it does tie up some storylines (or ties them up from the perspective of a first time listener) and it does have a humor to it, it’s extremely transitional and it shows. You might be thinking ‘well no shit it’s transitional that’s literally what the song does’ but when I say it shows, I mean that you can just feel Paul really wanted to write this song and be done with it. It falls into the unfortunate section of not being the last one as most of us in the western world are very used to a ‘rule of threes’ way of things. Particularly stories. But I did say it had humor and it ending abruptly with the sentient plant’s story coming to a close is some unexpected humor I enjoyed. (Also is the plant a post human? Did I read that right on the wiki? Is the fucking plant able to control reality? Somebody tell me, please.)
21- The Movement 2
So. The thing is I don’t think I like gen 3 all that much. It’s still interesting and Byron and Amelia are fascinating characters- also Jasper gets to really shine in this act! But it definitely has the more instrumental, bring me to church kind of songs. We get an interesting advancement of understanding the character dynamics with Amelia fully admitting to loving Byron who is never gonna love her back, but it just doesn’t make up for the repetitiveness of this song. Much like New Albion 3, I think this entire act suffers from not being the last to go, it feels very transitional despite it being arguably one of the most important acts due to the founding building blocks of Radio Hour being done within it.
20- The Movement 1
Much of the same critique of the one above this, but I will say what gives it more of an edge is the reestablishment of Edgar’s ‘business theme’ where Byron uses it for campaigning. It’s a bit of musicality that I really enjoy from Paul, connecting the characters through motif and parallelism. Byron hates his dad so god damn much, and yet still employs the same tactics he used when he was a young man looking for a purpose. McAllisters don’t fall too far from their tree huh?
19- Annabel Has a Doll
The origin of Kate’s ‘circles never stop themselves’ motif and it’s haunting beautiful when you go back and listen through. It essentially sets up the theme of every album following the first and is, what I think, the central part of what Paul is trying to convey. I could get into the philosophy behind his work for hours, like make a whole video essay on it but for now- this song. It’s on the lower end due to the fact that even though it is a hilariously frantic and manic bop, it can get really grating after the third verse. Like getting hit by a hammer over and over again with the constant and loud and insistent melody. Like I said, there has to be a worse and best, and I just think there are better songs on this album. Oh also- the beginnings of the Elysium theme? Fucking brilliant.
18- We Bid the 1st Generation Adieu
This is a brilliant way to introduce the concept of time jumping and also not getting too attached to the characters we see. It’s exposition without it feeling like exposition and Kate is always a delight to hear. It’s just that it’s a very short, transitional song and it’s. Yeah. That’s kind of it. We bid adieu to this review and move on to the next.
17- Bonfire of the Dolls
This song is a doozy in the best way possible. The climax of gen 3 and it completely delivers after creating such a delicious amount of tension between the living, the dead, and those who stand in between them. It’s the culmination of a society finally ready to snap and it is displayed so beautifully through a kick ass score that evokes such a frightening kind of emotion. A mixture of fear and pain and loss and somehow, love. Byron calling for Jasper in a desperate attempt at saving the one thing he only truly selfishly cared about gives me chills every time I listen to it. What this song suffers from however is the large amount of instrumentation. Don’t get me wrong, it sounds very good and the way Paul creates the ‘screaming doll’ sounds is so incredibly cool. But this would definitely benefit from having a visual element which is a problem I see across pretty much all the albums. Now that I call it a problem, I feel as though it’s a harsh word to use. I think it’s more like the show doesn’t need such long musical breaks if it’s never going to be staged. Still have the breaks, but perhaps shorten them? My mind can only supply so much imagination before I’m just replaying moments over and over again in my head.
16- The Ballad of the Gambler and the Monk
Full disclaimer I think this song is a fucking bop. I think it’s a certified, fun to sing along to jam. I love how this is the interlude of the story, reminding us of how exactly we got to this point of societal collapse by showing us how everyone was doomed from the start essentially. The music too has this old, nostalgic feeling to it which makes you feel like you’re being transported back to somewhere else, away from the chaos and the death and relentless evolution of New Albion. The only issue I have with this number is that for most of it, we already know the story due to it being explained to us. The opening lines of this show are telling us the story of the gambler and the monk. They only go more into detail about what happened at the end of the game, introducing us to the concept of reincarnation with incredible subtlety, but I really wish we had gotten more of a glimpse into just who these two were, and more importantly, who they were to each other. Now that’s a big wish considering it might’ve been difficult to have some establishment for these characters before Paul knew he was going to make Janissury, but some more detail to an already known story would’ve been nice considering a whole song was dedicated to it.
15- Edgar Gets His Heart Broken
Oh Edgar. Edgar you silly stupid bitch. You silly stupid bitch baby boy. Your song is objectively hilarious to listen to and I enjoy hearing your heart get broken every time. Although his incel anger does backfire on…well, New Albion for the rest of its existence, it was pretty funny watching it happen in a musical number. Lime pie//dying inside? Instant classic. Also the origin of the ‘one day you will learn’ theme and it’s honestly one of the best motifs Paul has ever written. It’s a perfect reprisal line and can be interpreted in so many ways, it just open to possibility. I don’t really have any critique for this one, it’s a concise and well paced story that gives us exactly what we need to know about gen 2 and it’s a bop. There are just better songs that come before this.
14- Annabel Raises the Dead
God damn does this song kick. These cats are cookin. When that piano/xylophone/I don’t even know what fuckin instrument barrels in with that tight ass arpeggio. The instrumentation is gorgeous, it’s evocative as all hell with its frantic nature and atmospheric sounds. The sole reason this isn’t further down on the list, is because I have this (most likely) singular issue with the actual notes themselves. Specifically the notes Annabel sings. Now, we’ve heard Laura Osnes sing, and I mean sing but what I can’t figure out is why despite everything being so incredibly frantic and high energy, are the notes she singing fall so…flat? And I don’t mean flat as in pitch I mean flat as in it just doesn’t match the energy. Annabel is a mad isolated scientist, why wouldn’t her melody line be an insane roller coaster? Why does it continue on in this sort of monotone way? It does get better at the end, with the bridge giving us insight into what the actual fuck is going on. But overall it leaves me wanting more in regards to a dynamic musical experience. Annabel’s part in the song holds the whole thing back with its sort of awkward melody where she’s singing these low, honestly uninteresting notes when the music is kicking all kinds of ass. Love this song, but I wish it was different.
13- Fay Considers Edgar's Proposal
Get his ASS Fay, make him eat shit. With his own musical motif of course. This song gives me chills when I listen to it, never a skip. For this entire time Fay has been living outside the main narrative, the sole reason why our easily corrupted protagonist gets…well, corrupted. To many, some may resent Fay in the beginning of gen 2 due to her somewhat vague couple sentences of break up. We have no context for how she feels or what her motivations are besides finding someone in a better financial/status position in life- but then this song comes on. Then we understand Fay really and truly did love Edgar. Filled with school-girlish, young love, Fay was head over heels. She fell in love with a young man who was most likely just as much in love with her. And during this song, Fay no longer sees that young man anymore. She feels betrayed, wondering how exactly she became a piece in Edgar McAllistair’s game of business and commerce. Wondering where the young man went and when he got shot out the back and replaced with the miserly and revenge ridden capitalist sitting before her, having taken everything from her. And then to top it all off with offering her late father? Her explosive ending is a stroke of genius and my only complaint is that this song is too short.
12- New Albion 4
This is the first instance of us hearing a more dieselpunk sound, the roots of Radio Hour beginning to grow into the cobbled ground of New Albion. It is haunting to listen to the second time around and frightening the first. Times are changing and by the sounds of it, for the worst it seems. Kate introduces us to a new kind of city and paints a very geometric and drab image in my mind where a dark cloud looms over a frightened and paranoid people. We are introduced to Soldier 7285 and the origin of one of the slappiest songs Paul has ever written, ‘the day we come’ motif. It is evocative of Javert from Les Mis, a solid and clear cutting tune that constantly comes in like a thick wall, impenetrable. You can basically hear the brainwashing going on and it’s honestly a great example of police/authority indoctrination. The words are empowering 7285, making him feel like he is justice, he is an important extension of the law and the law is just. It is unwavering. It’s an incredible piece of music and it was really difficult to decide to put it at twelve.
11- We Bid You All Adieu
There’s something about this number that breaks my heart in the best way possible. Like the way you felt when the children accidentally left Narnia or seeing Frodo Saul away to the Lands of the Undying. There’s still more story to be had, peoples lives still go on, but we are no longer viewers. The characters will live on as will we and…that’s that. The song is a perfect button finish to the mad and frightening escapades of the McAllistair family, bringing us not a sense of closure but drawing us in even more as to wonder what happens next in and to New Albion. I love the way it makes me feel, the only reason it falls here, just short of the top ten is because at this point we have heard this musical refrain many, many times and while that isn’t necessarily bad, repetition isn’t always the best choice, though perhaps in Paul’s case, the easiest when creating a new show every year.
10- The Suicide
Coming in at number ten we have our girl Amelia signing out! I have very similar thoughts to this as I did with Fay, getting the context of Amelia’s life is extremely heartbreaking. Also the discordant, chaotically violent way Paul displays abuse from a father is unfortunately accurate and phenomenal. Every time I listen I get so incredibly uncomfortable and displaced when that part comes and that to me is what makes this song a success. And then the twistingly sad nature of Elysium getting a reprise through Amelia’s epic goodbye to life just ties the whole thing together so neatly. Amelia is also a huge perpetrator, much like my blorbo Annabel in creating a chain reaction of events that will eventually lead to some crazy ass shit. I admire what this song contains and what it does.
9- New Albion 2
Full disclaimer, I love all of Kate’s parts and solos. I adore this one because of the charm we still have with this narration convention as well as development of the background characters! I want to hear more about the two women, the albatross Simon and the brilliant mouse Sam! It gives the city so much more life whereas the first one is an intro to help us build the world and the others lose a bit of charm after a while. This one I think is the most fun and I really enjoy listening for what are essentially clues/future callbacks for the future albums.
8- Priscilla Contemplates
I had no idea what Miss Priscilla was saying the first time around and if I didn’t take the time and effort to really listen to the words, this song probably would’ve been in the twenties. But after thinking it through and really tasting the words, I think this is one of the best poetically written songs Paul has ever wrote. It’s gorgeous in writing, describing such an odd and strange feeling from a girl who is living such an odd and strange life. And the way it ends with the phone call? Chills. Can you imagine being Jasper in that moment? This is a scene I would kill to see staged because of just how raw it can be. Priscilla is the best of the McAllistairs- as though reincarnation finally got it right this time.
7- The Day They Come
Not a ton to say about this one other than the fact that the rising panic is kick fucking ass to listen to. The way the music portrays Jasper and Priscilla arguing yet still desperately trying to be quiet. The inevitable way Soldier and the others are proudly and dutifully singing their vows. It’s short but it’s a riot, also RIP Byron and his trophy wife I’m pretty sure they die in this one if not died way before.
6- The Old Trunk in the Attic
I don’t know what the wide, general opinion is of this particular song but it, to me, absolutely belongs in the top ten. It’s strength is that it completely stands out from the rest of the discography. When Paul takes that moment to just create music from poetry, evoke feelings from us that we’ve never felt before. The delicate way the melody and instruments are done, the nostalgic yet unfamiliar list of items we all have a collective (but not real) memories of seeing going through our relatives belongings before. It’s what is a great representation of what makes the Shaperaverse so special. Just these moments of singularity, of importance when to the characters it’s just a Tuesday night. There’s so much gravity in this one song, I think we all forget just how much the rest of the discography relies on this specific moment- save of course for Annabel’s breakthrough. It’s beautifully sung by Kate and I put it on loop all the time.
5- Annabel's Lament
Humanizing our mad scientist with a ‘where did it all go wrong/how did I get here’ song is brilliant. One could argue it’s a verse too long, but to that I say the word ‘opera’ is in ‘pulp opera’ which is how Paul describes his works so. Yeah it sounds like a verse too long cause it’s opera. Anyway Annabel, like the logical thinker she is, lays the map of her life bare as she is finally ready to face the grotesque music she has composed entirely for herself. She’s trying to find the source, the answer as to why, why she cannot seem to escape this deep pit of loneliness she has been stuck in ever since her father set the high expectation of ‘be a success, then you’ll be happy’. And y’know what the crazy part is? I don’t even think she really figures it out in the end! Isn’t that wild? Yes she sets Jasper free because she loves him and on some level realizes his suffering- but the main reason she lets him go is because HE was supposed to be her success and, confoundingly, she still. Isn’t. Happy. Annabel doesn’t understand why this didn’t solve all her problems, why despite having worked for years and years, pushing everyone and every opportunity for social interaction away she still can’t get what she wants and this is the beauty of Paul Shapera’s works, but especially highlighted in his first. Annabel is trapped in a cycle, a circle. And the great tragedy is that she is the first act- there was no way her story was going to end happy. Instead she begins (or if you think about it, just another in a long line) a curse which takes four generations for her lineage to break. But the greatest tragedy of them all is that Annabel didn’t just curse her family tree, but the entirety of New Albion as well. Or perhaps- it was already cursed from its conception? I could keep going about Annabel and her lament, but overall this song feeds the story and lore part of my brain that is never satiated and the music has the intensity that I was looking for in Annabel Raises the Dead. It builds and builds until Annabel is screaming at an inanimate object, tragically missing the point of her own sad story as her ax flies.
4- New Albion 1
Where it all begins. The set dressing done in this song is brilliant in two ways. The first being that as just a listener, it’s like a pop-up book is opening and unfolding in your brain. Like a DM just before the beginning of a long, long campaign setting up the most intricate and alive world you’ve ever had the pleasure of stepping into. This is how musicals should be (something I’ve noticed is that immersion is distinctly lacking in modern day mainstream shows) where they entice you, guide you into a story before plopping you right down into the action. It’s exciting to hear what’s around every corner of this intensely strange city. The second is that when this is staged, despite imagination not being all that necessary, it is as though Kate is conducting the city to come to life herself. Set pieces gliding in from stage right, the one eyed red haired dwarf strolling onto stage tossing a pair of silver dice in the air, the city itself rising as Kate builds upon it. New Albion 1 works because it is not complicated, it tells you things as they are because what they are is already a wonder to imagine or see. And the continuous line of ‘and Annabel McAlistair is raising up the dead’? Brilliant intrigue, instantly letting us in on the score. More stories should try this method, after all why do people like Hamilton or Hadestown or Heathers or Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 so much? Their intros lay it out and we get to sit back and enjoy the spread. Also of course, this is the origin of the New Albion theme, the one all the narrators use. It’s just beautifully simple and strange and it makes me emotional whenever I hear it across the albums. Even when I’m all the way in the future, watching Jane fight for her life and Han Mi struggle with creating her own narrative, I hear that familiar tune and think about where it all began, with a sad lonely blorbo trying to bring back to life her own blorbo.
3- Priscilla and Jasper Play Cards
This song is disgustingly good. It’s a final act showdown, an earned epic moment in the narrative. Finally everything that has happened in this fucked up city is reaching a head in Byron McAlistair’s basement of all places and it is beautiful on delivery. The reprise of so many important motifs, my favorite being Jasper saying ‘be my angel’- the chills I get every time I hear him use that line is outrageous. Now I’m not sure who is right, but my interpretation of Jaspers line in that moment is that he’s asking Soldier to be his ‘angel’ by shooting him and finally, y’know, letting this man fucking die. But then I saw someone else say Jasper is saying this to Priscilla, begging her not to do this for him as he has finally accepted being alive again and doesn’t want her to die due to finally loving a McAlistair. Whatever the interpretation, canonical or not, it is a rip out your heart kind of moment. Sacrifice, duty and love all culminating to finally end the cycle of madness started so long ago in an epic trio of fantastic vocals. And when Priscilla finally can hear the music, the message Kate has been trying to get through, it’s breathtaking. You have to wonder how Kate feels when this happens, when she’s actually listened to. And just when you think it’s over…
2- I Will Bring You Down
…A new hero starts the cycle anew. This song is so fucking dramatic, so very end of an action movie sounding song and yet it works. It works because this is a relatively new character who is now able to think for himself, not just rehash the creed which will haunt this city for generations to come. And his thoughts (the music) sound incredibly unique to everyone else and that is a sign of so much care and attention from Paul. It’s a call to action, a sign of a new age coming whether the city and its people want it or not. It’s the beginning of a new story placed squarely as this shows finale. Finally, when the dust settles it is not a McAlistair who ends the tail in triumph, but a random soldier who kicks of another set of events. Circles really do never stop themselves.
1- Elysian Night
It’s hard for me to express what I feel when I listen to Elysian Night. Usually when I’m talking to people about it I end up struggling and stuttering and start spouting about something ephemeral leaving the person I’m talking to trying to decipher my words. What can one say about Elysian Night that isn’t already felt when you listen? Much like The Old Trunk in the Attic, it stands out amongst the rest of Paul’s works while somehow being the golden center of the sewn together quilt. It’s honest, it’s raw. It’s all the thoughts Jasper has been desperately trying to say after three generations of living. Picking apart other songs on the radio just to craft this one that will hopefully (tragically and inevitably fly over peoples heads) send the message about how he and every other doll in the city has been robbed of something that can barely be described. How do you not love this song? How do you not feel every emotion Jasper has raging on inside the machine that is his body? It’s close to one of the best songs Paul has ever written and I’m grateful to be alive in the time I am to be able to listen.
Thank you so much for reading if you’ve gotten this far! I’ll probably do another one for Radio Hour as it is my favorite of all the albums and we’ll see where this all goes. If you have any questions or would like to share your own opinion about the songs or have a bone to pick with me about the order they fall into, feel free to send me an ask or use the comments on this post. I never really get to talk about the Shaperaverse with people in real life and despite the discord community being amazing a full of incredible people, I find it hard to interact so I lurk most of the time. Thanks again for reading and happy listening!
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eddie-sweetheart · 2 years
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HI!! I just recently read Sorry I’m late, sweetheart and OH MY GODDD just entirely obsessed with your writing and they way you can portray Eddie so well. I was wondering if you felt like writing a one shot or some headcanons about reader who is with Eddie and a musician as well but they’re in marching band and concert band with formal concerts and stuff?? Anywho, I think the dynamic could be so fun and cute!! Lots of love❤️❤️❤️
Hello love!! First of all, thank you sooo much for your kind words!! 🤍✨ I always try my best to make fic-Eddie as Eddie-like as possible (if that makes sense) so I'm beyond happy to know that you liked it!
I also loved your request, so I thought I could try to write some headcanons about it - it's my first time with this kind of genre, so I hope you like them as much as I had fun writing them!
Here's my version of headcanons about Eddie being with a band musician S/O 🌹
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You and Eddie have been together for a while now, and you’re quite different people - which is one of the things that make your relationship so special, actually! You both love learning new things and hearing everything about each other’s passions, especially since one of them is music.
We all know what Eddie’s taste in music is like by now, and after a while you’ve come to appreciate it as well - mostly because he’s so vocal and passionate about his favorite bands and songs and he loves sharing them with you, and his enthusiasm is truly contagious. Plus, you’re the first (and best) Corroded Coffin groupie, and he loves you for that!
You, on the other side, belong to a different sphere of the music universe: you’re in the high school band and yes, you might not know your way around electric guitars, but you play your own instrument and you’re definitely great at it - “fucking amazing”, Eddie would say, and he makes sure to remind you any time he can! He’s your greatest supporter, really, and here’s why.
He wants to be involved with anything you like just out of his pure love and admiration for you, and this includes asking you to teach him how to play your instrument. It’s rarely a successful undertaking, but he tries so hard! He usually sits on the floor in the middle of your room, his tongue sticking out and his eyes partly covered by his fringe as he focuses on putting his hands and fingers in the right places, following your expert guide and miserably failing to produce any kind of sound in tune - but he looks extremely cute, so it’s okay. 
“Fuck, this shit is hard - I don’t know how you do it, sweetheart”
Also, when he actually manages to crack a few notes, he requests (or better, demands) a reward in kisses. You oblige happily every time, of course.
He often gives you a lift to band practice, taking the instrument case from your hands and opening the passenger door of his van for you, like the gentleman that he is. A lot of times he likes to sneak inside the school without you noticing, just to sit on the floor outside the classroom where you’re practicing to listen to you and occasionally peer inside. You’ve noticed him a few times, and the sight of his wavy hair and doe eyes suddenly appearing through the glass on the door always makes you accidentally skip a note (and your heart skip a beat) but you never tell him. 
When you finish early and find him outside the classroom, he always shrugs it off with one of his signature upside-down smirks. 
“I didn’t know I signed up for a bodyguard” “Jesus Christ, can’t a man escort his sweetheart outside?”
Eddie never moves or postpones his Hellfire Club meetings. No exceptions, ever. He’s just very careful to plan them around your performances and band events, so he can be there every single time - and that’s why he asks you for your band schedule every month, like clockwork.
More about official events: he never misses one, as we said. He’s always there on the bleachers, clapping at you and only you, his eyes following your every move whether you’re in the gym or on one of the sports fields outside. He’s such a hype man, he tortures the other kids who are just there to see the match or parade, or whatever.
“Second row, third from the left. See, Henderson?” “Jesus, Eddie, I have eyes of my own for Christ’s sake-“ “Shut up, it’s starting. And make sure to clap”
You always see him there, but you don’t how many times he risked being late. Not because he didn’t care or forgot: quite the contrary. He wants to look his best for you, so he always loses so much time getting ready - metal band t-shirts literally flying through his room as he looks for just the perfect one, eyes narrowed in concentration as he readjusts his hair in front of the mirror, stumbling over his feet as he rushes outside, almost bumping into his stupefied uncle on the way out.
“Shit shit fuck I’m going to miss the beginning - come on, sucker, turn the fuck on” *slams fist on the steering wheel*
Also, he loves your band outfit. Not the slightly cringe-y green uniform per se, but the fact that he gets to peel it off of you once you’re back to his trailer. After all, your body is your favorite musical instrument to play, and he’s terribly good at it.
Bonus headcanon:
I believe this applies easily to any passion or hobby you have! He loves anything creative (have you seen the Hellfire Club set up???) so he always would hype you up and support you - whether it’s about the school newspaper, drama club, painting or anything else you love to do! He’d love to participate, if you’ll have him, even if it’s just to spend some extra time with you… he’s such an angel 🤍
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thatladdyp · 1 year
Text
He is.
Last week I thought about having to write a description of someone we love in English class, and because we don’t actually have to do that, I thought I’d write one anyways, bc why not. Enjoy.
***
He has dark brown hair, the sides are shorter than the hair on the middle, which is usually laying towards his left. Sometimes he puts it up into the air, making him look like a saiyajin. His eyes are also brown, warm and chocolate-colored. In the sun they are brighter, almost orange, and also a little golden. His skin is darker than most people’s; sometimes people confuse him with a foreigner, he even got almost beaten up for that - but in reality it’s because his ancestors were some kind of special sort of Vinschgauer. It’s complicated.
He has almost no beard; he sometimes tries for one, but mostly it just looks like dirt on his chin, that’s why he prefers shaving vigorously. His skin isn’t very clean nor smooth; when he eats greasy stuff like salami his pores usually get even more clogged. His eyebrows are the perfect amount of bushy, just enough that they help underline all of his weird facial expressions; and he is only able to raise his left eyebrow if he only wants to raise one, he cannot raise only his right one. His Adam’s apple is quite prominent, especially when he’s singing. His smile is wide and his eyes and forehead get all wrinkly when he’s laughing. I could explain so many faces he likes to pull, but that’d take too much time.
He is really tall, about 1,93 m; just the perfect height so that I can bury my face into his chest when I hug him. He’s got a little of a sixpack, a great butt and biceps and in general a nice body to look at, maybe a little too lanky if you don’t wanna hug air. He has warm and soft hands which are perfectly made for playing the guitar, and they are bigger than mine. He likes to play with them, when he’s greeting people he likes to shake hands, give high-fives, bro-fists etcetera.
Sometimes he just trolls you with that; when you wanna give him his hand because he holds out his, he pulls it away and dabs right in the moment you wanted to shake it. He has a lot of those little quirks. He likes to play with my purse and throw it around. He likes to call me Lünde even though he knows I hate it. And he has a lot of sentences he says ways too often, which are already a little annoying to me, like “Impressive!” with a weird th instead of the ss or “You good bro?”
School is his lowest priority in life; he almost never studies for class tests, because everything else is just so much more important. His band, theatre, the people he loves. That’s why he skips quite often, gets bad marks or only half-satisfying ones. He says he doesn’t care about anything as long as he’s positive everywhere, but I know he still tries his best in every subject, just like in all the other things he does. He’s so ambitious.
He loves being in a band, and it makes him extremely desperate that his bandmates don’t care a fracture as much about the band as he does. He fights for it, he organises everything, the gigs, the music video shots, the recordings, the press stuff, the PR, social media, their own songs. HIS songs. He writes his own songs. Until now I’ve heard 5 finished ones of them, he’s still got 4 to show us and currently he’s writing another one which talks about our friendship, the song I’m most excited for. He plays the guitar amazingly, and not only the guitar, he nailed all of the instruments he recorded for his song You’ll See. He also sings very well. He’s a bariton, I’d say. He can’t sing very high songs or else it sounds really exhausting. His voice is perfect for the genre he sings, low acoustic songs. His voice is warm like him, and slow, quiet, calm songs sound the best with it, and the songs he writes always match with his personality. He is also a good actor, even though he doesn’t enjoy playing theatre as much as musicals or singing. He gets better every time when he plays something, and he usually plays the asshole - and he’s really good at playing that. I gotta say, he surprises me every time I see him act, and not only because he manages to change his lines into something similar, but still right every time he plays.
He often says some lines in English, usually vines or similar stuff, and he’s got a weird accent when he does so. His south tyrolean accent in his songs really fucks me up cringing, but yeah. Like I said, he sometimes says stuff in English totally randomly, but so do I.
He loves his friends, family and girlfriend. The people he loves are everything for him; he does everything for them, they mean the world to him. Never would he leave somebody out or make them feel bad. If one friend is left out only a little, he comes up, puts his arm around them and speaks to them. He doesn’t give a shit about money and is not cheap at all, he is cool with blowing a shitload of money up just to surprise us, his friends. He is all about having a good time and making memories, especially with us. He is always affectionate and caring towards everyone, his family is so kind and good-hearted and amazing, his mom is super lovely and talented, his grandparents helpful and super cute and his brother effortlessly funny. He can get moody and boring if he “could be doing something that makes more sense”, but is most of the time in a good mood. He is thankful for the experiences he’s made, tries to learn out of every situation and cherishes the moments he’s spending with us, because he knows that these are moments he will remember for a long time.
He’s thankful for the musical.
His favourite drink is Gin Tonic, but only with Fevertree Mediterranean tonic water.
He wears ridiculous socks and has weird pink flamingo trousers.
He likes to smoke cigars together with Manu.
He gets headaches very easily.
He’s the funniest when he’s drunk.
He got very sick from green beans when he was in Salzburg, then he threw up for 3 days after that and now he’s got a trauma from them. He’s never broken any bone in his body except for his little toe. He’s got no allergies.
***
It’s the 21st of September 2019 and I’ve decided to continue this love-struck textpost. I’ve found out so much more about him until now, and I am very excited to extend this text. Enjoy.
***
He can be extremely insensitive, not realising what shit he has just said. Also there can be a few situations where he doesn’t realise what is going on around him, and later has no plan what has happened, making him look like a complete insensitive moron, also if he didn’t actually want it.
He is extremely self-opinionated, and only if you show him the cruel and plain facts, he will maybe accept that what he said was wrong. Being in a discussion with him is difficult, because he is very good at talking you into something you are not actually thinking. Because his flow of words can be really impressive and too complicated, you tend to just accept a lot of things he tells you, even though it’s complete bullshit and you might think it through a few more times. In general, when he has an opinion, it is extremely hard to change his mind, and that can get super annoying.
There’s two types of drunk he gets, either he’s totally hilarious, cuddly and funny and lets you do whatever you want with him, or he transforms into a moody asshole who lets out his bad mood onto everyone without thinking of the consequences, and there is no in-between.
He usually doesn’t separate love from sex. I must admit that I wonder why he’s still had one night stands, there’s gotta be some exceptions - but usually he doesn’t sleep around, knowing he must really love someone to properly enjoy sex.
He tends to show arrogance and narcissism in a couple of situations, but I think he secretly hates himself for it.
He is a real businessman when it comes to his music. He is working hard to be able to pay for the production of a song, a music video, or maybe just some sushi for lunch. Also when he gets the opportunity to learn something new, or do just whatever may push his career, he takes it. He may sometimes not get some personal situations and misses some opportunities, but never when it comes to playing a gig somewhere or just doing anything that may be in the slightest convenient for his career. Above I mentioned that he does anything for his band, but that has kinda changed now... he does it for his own success - but for his own good! He has a goal he wants to reach, and he’s putting all of his focus on that, but never forgetting how to enjoy life and hang with his friends with a good glass of Gin Tonic.
People who know him better, have all come to realise that he does not think with his brain, but with his heart. Not with his dick, either, absolutely not - but I haven’t met a single person that thought more with their heart than him. There aren’t many decisions this man has thought through thoroughly (lol English is weird), and whatever he does, he does it because his heart tells him so.
Speaking of heart! He has a rather awful and weird heart condition that gives him random heart palpitations. Sometimes it’s more frequent, other times not... the worst that can happen is that he just randomly blacks out, falls on the floor and can get up only when his pulse has chilled down a bit. His fam has paid Dr. Fliri, the cool cardiologist, hundreds of bucks for appointments and the portable EKG he carried around with him for some time, only to get no diagnosis at all. He unfortunately jokes around about that, but it’s always got that bitter undertone when he does so, for example by changing the lyrics when singing Irgendwann Bleib I Dann Dort to “bevor der Herzinfarkt mi mit 25 in di Windeln packt” - like dude, that is so inappropriate.
Speaking of heart, he has got two tattoos by now (lol, can you believe I started this blog post when he didn’t have any?), the first one is the audio wave of the last verse of his song “Thanks”, on his left underarm, which I still can’t believe; this guy’s got a tattoo of a song he’s written partly for me. And the second one is a design of six and five lines around his right underarm, the five lines symbolising a music staff and the six lines the guitar strings. The next tattoo he’d like to get is an anatomical heart, and I’m really fond of this idea.
***
6th January 2023, and I’d like to finish this text to finally post it and put it in the archives, because I just adore the process.
***
He is a responsible and reliable employee, having worked himself from intern up to radio host in only a year. He grew into a proper businessman, driving a grey Tesla, the second car he bought with his own money. Despite him making a full-time wage, he never became greedy or thrifty, as he changed from being an Android-guy to a full-on Apple user all around and going on a few trips. I have no clue whether or not he would still pay for a 100€+ round of drinks, I suppose so if the financial situation’s right, but we haven’t gone out for drinks together in years, so I’d have to see, lol.
He has become more chill over the years, his growth clearly visible. Even though he still sometimes has No Chill, it is a gift to watch him grow from a high school guy with big dreams into a young man living his dreams and still working as hard as always. He is as overachieving and ambitious as he was when I got to know him.
He doesn’t like vanilla flavoured stuff, which I find quite exasperating.
He now has ... uh, how many tattoos? 1. Thanks, 2. guitar lines in Ireland, 3. light bulb from Barcelona, 4. the heart he did together with me and 5. Liebele he did with Tina. The next one will be a map of his home in Lana and, the one I am very excited for, a lemon slice, standing for our favourite shot, the one and only: Tequila, will be next.
His difficult to assess music taste varies from gospel over soft- to hard rock, including all kinds of pop and ranging to country and house and is honestly just as wild as his character can be sometimes, but he has an incredible talent of always whipping out the best song for each and every situation we are in.
Just as astounding is his way of appreciating little situations, small moments where he feels at peace, happy and safe, and he will say out loud how he feels in that very moment. That is something that inspired me to do the same every now and then, and it gave and gives me a feeling of warmth because those are the moments we live for and that truly deserve the appreciation.
His most outstanding trait is and will always be his honesty. Without a filter he will tell you his opinion on things and will show you a bold and sometimes maybe even frigid view on whatever issue you may have. There will no be babbling around; elephants in the room have to be put aside before they even come to be, and if you aren’t gonna be honest and clear with him, don’t even bother bringing it up. If there’s a problem, if something happened, if there is bad blood anywhere, just talk it all out as honestly and directly as you possibly can, and there won’t be an issue. Not only is he willing to spit out every dirty detail about himself if it helps to air it out, but he demands that his friends do the same, which creates an insane amount of trust in his relationships and leaves me in awe about how strong the bonds between him and those few close people in his life are.
I will now FINALLY post this thing, after all those years of it rotting in my drafts, as I am not in love with him anymore (should’ve made a tally sheet about how often I said that and lied), but if anyone ever asks me why I love(d) him, these are the things I’m gonna say.
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bonesandthebees · 2 years
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Sorry for more questions I hope you don’t mind ^^” if you do lmk, I’m just interested in writing and you have such an amazing style <3
A) what character is the hardest to write? And which is the easiest?
B) what’s your writing process? Do you have a lot of drafts? Do you start over a lot? Do you play music or in complete silence?
C) similar to question A, which character is your favorite to write? And which is your least favorite?
D) does it ever hit you how many people have actually read your fics?
E) if you could write fanfiction for a career, would you?
Sorry again for all the questions!! No need to answer them all, I was just curious, but I don’t mean to be nosey /g
-🍄anon
I don't mind at all these are super fun questions!!!
A) Techno is the hardest to write by FAR. It's not that I don't watch his content or anything, I do! I really love him as a cc and think he's hilarious. I just struggle so much with how to characterize c!techno. Where to draw the line between humor and seriousness and how he talks about emotions—I overthink writing him so much lmao. Easiest character is definitely Tommy though, he's my boy
B) Aww that's cute that you guys think I write drafts /lh. I basically will have the plot for a chapter or fic outlined in loose bullet points, and then I just go through and write it from start to finish. Not all at once usually, but I go in chronological order and don't skip around. And I don't write multiple drafts or anything. While I might go back and add a few lines here and there or reword a sentence or two, nearly everything you see written is what I wrote down on my first run through. I don't have the patience to go back and heavily edit so I just write it as best I can the first time around and that's what we get. I almost never start over either. I think one of the only times I came close to starting something over was when I was writing vanderlyle, I ended up writing a huge chunk of the first bookstore scene with Wilbur and Tommy meeting and deleted nearly the entire thing because the tone wasn't right and it was messing me up trying to move forward. Also, sometimes I listen to music that's instrumental like movie soundtracks or lofi beats, on rare occasions I can listen to music with lyrics while i write but I have to be really focused, and sometimes I just write in total silence it really depends on my mood
C) Wilbur is my favorite to write hands down. I definitely think a bit more about characterizing him properly when I'm writing him vs Tommy, but I just love c!wilbur as a character so much. He's so complex and has so many facets to him, it's really fun to pick and choose which part of him I want to highlight in each of my works. And again I'd say Techno is my least favorite character to write mainly because of how difficult it is for me to write him
D) I definitely try to comprehend the numbers, but y'know how our cc's often say it's really hard to conceptualize the huge number of viewers they get? it's like that with my fics. It's so strange to sit there and try to comprehend that there have been over a million clicks on clinic. It's very strange to try and picture ~4500 people in a room and know that that many people get emails whenever I post literally anything, not just a specific fic. It's mind boggling to comprehend that at it's peak, over 10k people got an email every time I updated clinic. I struggle to even picture 1000 people in a room, let alone that many. so yeah, I don't really comprehend it most of the time, but I try my best to keep things in perspective because I'm so grateful to have the audience I have
E) hm, I don't know if I'd want to write mcyt fanfiction solely for a career for the rest of my life. my interests shift, and tbh mcyt is a fandom I've stuck around in for one of the longest periods of time, which is surprising since I've been fandom hopping since 2015. I would hate to get stuck creating fanfic solely for a singular fandom, and even if I had the opportunity to switch fandoms, I don't know if I'd want to be restricted creating fan content, y'know? My dream is to be a published author with original novels, so while I don't know if I'd wanna write fanfic for a living, I definitely know I want to write for a living :) It's been my dream since I was a little kid
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fractoluminescence · 25 days
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Shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. Then copy/paste this ask to your favorite mutuals. 💌
I don’t really have something like that? I use folders for my favorite songs, and most of the songs in my youtube playlist thing I basically never listen to. So I’ll be shuffling that one (although, as I said, not my top favorite songs, but I do still listen to them) and only counting the first five that I actually care for 1. Some cover of This Is Halloween from The Nightmare Before Christmas (I have way too many of those tbh, no surprised this came up - as a result I’m not pointing out which one it is in particular) 2. A cover of Believer by Imagine Dragons (which is funny because my favorite version and one I most often listen to is probably the original njvkflnjv) 3. She'll Make You Lose Your Mind by Riff Kitten (okay, that one I do actually listen to a lot ngl) 4. A Lone Digger x Magic Man mashup (can I say though, it doesn’t work nearly as well as mashing up Lone Digger with Aurora’s Cure For Me, which is an absolute banger) 5. A very specific instrumental cover of Friend Like Me (I have spent way too much time looking for my favorite covers of this song lol, and this one is def somewhere at the top! See here: https://youtu.be/gxnb2epmbyY?si=ha0wvUNWt4EoR5xV)
I. Actually only skipped two songs that I recognized but never listen to. Huh
Then again, if I’m not mistaken, Youtube never seems to use the songs further down the playlist when shuffling, so maybe that’s partially why? (The songs at the top are the ones I added most recently)
What’s funny is the next one that came up is Dead Bite by Hollywood Undead, which I didn’t even know I had on here, as I usually listen to it from the folders XD (absolutely chilling chorus btw)
Thank you for asking! Will pick a couple of people to pass it on to 🥺 (I assume you’ve already received it, since you’ve passed it on to me? Missed that post somehow)
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tokiro07 · 10 months
Text
Cipher Academy ch.29 thoughts
[Mirror, Mirror]
CLASS A SWEEP!!! 4-0 BABYYY
Honestly I’m surprised, not only is it pretty rare to see the protagonist’s team sweep the opponents, you also don’t usually see the protagonist’s match get skipped
I suppose that makes sense here, though; the Class E battle is mostly a Toshusai Faction issue, so Iroha being the MVP as usual could have ended up taking focus off of the cast that Nisio wanted to focus on in this case. And it’s not like Iroha wasn’t instrumental to the victory, either; not only was he the linchpin for the matching game, but it was his counsel here that allowed Toshusai to confirm that a false Omomuro wasn’t present at all
I really hate saying “I knew it all along” when I didn’t vocalize my thoughts in the first place, but I really did consider the possibility that the answer was “both are Omomuro,” I just didn’t think of the mirror trick. The fact that they harped on there being three possibilities clued me into the possibility of there being a fourth more absurd answer, I just dismissed it because I couldn’t think of how to make it work. Once again, my nose for finding the right path is on point, but my sense for following it is dreadful...
Also, it’s super subtle, but once you notice it it sticks out, but you can actually see the edge of the mirror reflecting Omomuro. There’s a thin, stray line between the two Omomuro, off-center towards the one on the left (though in the previous chapter it was to the right, which I’m willing to bet was a mistake since it’s there consistently otherwise). It’s a very nice clue for attentive readers that made solving it possible from the very beginning. I definitely got hung up on her buttons, to think I needed to be paying attention to the surroundings too!!
Circling back to the unusually swift conclusion of this battle, it’s clear that Nisio knew that would be the expectation; Kubinashi got the correct answer, so the onus was on her to continue or end the match. For all intents and purposes, she should have won this two-point round, but that would have run the risk of deflating the emotional resonance of Toshusai proving that Omomuro really is her friend and not a brainwashed servant. In fact, it was that resonance that convinced Kubinashi to concede to Class A entirely, which may suggest a sense of sentimentality towards Omomuro that I definitely wouldn’t have expected
I also think it’s funny that Hannari (using her first name to differentiate her from her sister Ranbada) suggested that Omomuro’s mirror trick would make the game too difficult for both Toshusai and Kubinashi, as it indicates that Class A has more faith in each other than Class E does. Perhaps she meant that Kubinashi’s biased expectations (”I told her to choose options 1-3, I wasn’t expecting a 4th”) would make it more difficult for her to notice the truth, but regardless, the contrast certainly helps further sell the theme of this battle
I do think it’s a little sad we didn’t get to delve into Toshusai and Omomuro’s past here, but it occurs to me that aside from dialogue and brief panels, we’ve never seen anything outside of the academy. We haven’t had a single extended flashback scene, so I’m wondering if Nisio is deliberately avoiding showing us any non-chronological information, or saving the flashbacks for much bigger moments. Iroha’s flashback could be being saved for a big moment with his father, and Toshusai’s could be being saved for a big moment between her and Yugata, who definitely has something deeper going on than what we’ve seen so far. If he is avoiding flashbacks though, I do think that’s a really interesting approach, as it enforces the idea that we, as observers, can’t know every detail, and can only use the information we have in front of us to make inferences and draw our own conclusions, just like a codebreaker. That certainly seems like the kind of thing that Nisio would pull
Speaking of things Nisio would pull, wow, “I’d happily die if you told me to”?? What’d Iroha mean by that?? What prompted this?? When did he get to the point that he’d go that far for Toshusai?? Probably around the time she convinced him not to drop out of the academy, I suppose. Honestly, though, the real impact of that line wasn’t how needlessly dramatic Iroha is, but rather Toshusai’s response. “You think I’d ever tell you to die?” While on one level it’s just a plain and simple denial of Iroha’s wild statement, I sense a little bit of melancholy in it. “Do you think I’m that kind of person?” “Is that the impression I give off?” “I wish you wouldn’t think of me that way.” Did that line hurt her to hear, and if so, was it because it holds up the mirror to her villainess persona? Or did it scare her? Did it worry her that Iroha, who is so easily influenced that he’ll say and do things you can’t imagine him doing just because he sees his friends doing them, might actually be serious and sacrifice himself if prompted? There’s a lot of nuance that one could glean from that sentence, and it’s so out of nowhere that it really feels like it has to be foreshadowing something down the line. Don’t know when, where, how or why it’ll come back, but I can feel it in my bones that this sentiment will be hugely important later
Finally, we see that Class B has been observing the battle for some time now. Since Kubinashi has labeled them as both the class most likely to be able to help Iroha find the dancing soldier and the class that Kubinashi would most like to avoid fighting, it seems pretty clear that they’ll be the focus of the next battle. This would mean that I was wrong about Yonakiuguisu being in the finals, and it’s not yet clear whether it will be a three-way battle against Rikukeito and either Hakanage or Zakuroguchi, but it’s also possible that Class B lost their match and Iroha will be facing them for personal reasons rather than for the sake of becoming Code Emperor. It would certainly complicate the road that I suggested he’d be taking a few chapters ago, and it would be cool to have an excuse to face the classes he doesn’t otherwise get to here, but as it stands, it looks like Class B is in the finals, so we’ll go with that assumption for now
Before I sign off, I want to talk a little about Class B’s aesthetic. Rikukeito’s given name, Tonbo, means dragonfly, explaining her wings but not her cat ears. The rest of the group also have clear animal themes, such as Jigino’s antlers, Kogecha’s bunny ears, Ikishiro’s bug leg antennae, and Eteshite being a literal god damn bear, though as far as I can tell, none of their names are related to their animal themes. In fact, aside from Eteshite, I don’t think their names overtly reference animals at all, but Eteshite’s of particular interest to me because her name is QUOKKA! That’s not a bear! That’s a marsupial! They’re related to koalas! Why is her name Quokka when she’s a bear???
Aside from Quokka, Kogecha is the most interesting to me, not only because she’s just outright the cutest girl here, but also because of those 3D glasses she’s wearing. I know we were told that Class A had a monopoly on the Glasses Weapons, but you can’t even show me someone wearing regular glasses at this point without raising my eyebrow, what makes you think I wouldn’t be suspicious of 3D glasses??
It’s clear that Class B is talking in some kind of coded language, which we may or may not get a translation for going forward, but either way it’s pretty easy to tell that they’re talking smack right now, as groups of newly introduced enemies are wont to do. They seem like a good escalation, honestly, with their whole group being eccentric and not just a bit showy like Class E. As usual, I’m excited to see what happens next, and since Cipher Academy just recently got its own twitter, I have to assume there’s concrete plans for it to be around more than long enough for us to do just that
See y’all next week!
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marauderundercover · 3 years
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Maribat Halloween: Decorating
Marinette Dupain Cheng groans, dropping herself across her friend’s lap, hiding her face in her hands. 
“What’s up Pixie Pop?” Jason asks, his attention immediately on her. She just groans, trying not to think of the ways she had failed today. “Pix?” Jason prompts. She huffs and sits up, pouting. 
“I met a boy today.” She says, and Jason grins. 
“Didya say something embarrassing?” He teases, and she huffs. 
“Kind of.” She says vaguely, not willing to go into it. 
“Ya know you’re gonna tell me eventually. Might as well just tell me now.” Jason points out, and Marinette sighs, rubbing her hand over her face. 
“So he was super cute and instead of doing something normal like tell him he’s cute or ask him out or anything else, I volunteered to be his secretary for the month while his is on vacation.” She rambles out, groaning. Jason snorts, laughing loudly until he stops abruptly. Marinette glances at him, frowning at his sudden change. “What-” 
“Your meeting today, it was at Wayne Enterprises, wasn’t it.” He says, his frustration clear. 
“Yeah?” She draws out, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 
“Goddamnit Replacement.” Jason swears, shaking his head. 
“What?” Marinette raises an eyebrow, completely lost. Jason sighs. 
“Let me tell you a little about Tim Drake.”
---
Tim Drake was confused, as he walked into Wayne Enterprises on October 1st. And he didn't like to be confused. But all things considered, he felt that his confusion was valid. After all, when he left the building at eleven o'clock last night (long after everyone else, even his secretary, had left), the building looked like a normal office building. Now, though, there were spiderwebs and tiny pumpkins everywhere. Tiny plastic spiders and cloth ghosts hung from the ceilings. It was cute, but he had no idea how it could've happened. Or when. Deciding to check the security tapes, he walks swiftly over to the elevator, blinking in surprise at the change in music. Instead of the usual (boring) elevator music, an instrumental version of "This is Halloween" was playing softly. Honestly, it was impressive. Whoever had managed to do it had done so without Tim seeing them as he left, and without tripping any of the alarms. He'd just have to hope that whoever did it wasn't willing to use their powers for evil.
As the elevator stops at his floor, he mentally makes a note to ask Marinette, his temporary secretary, if she'd seen anyone strange when she left the night before. She’d only been his secretary for two weeks, and was only scheduled to do the job for one more. She had come in for a meeting with Lucius Fox, something to do with a fabric Lucius had developed, Tim was unsure on the details. But when she came in, she’d seen the absolute mess that the top floor had become since Tim’s secretary had left on vacation. She’d nearly insisted on helping out, and Tim honestly loved having her around. Marinette was funny, and cute and smart and- He frowns, shaking his head to clear it. Sure, he had a crush on her. But nothing could come of it. He’d seen Jason picking her up a couple times, and as much as he disliked his brother at times, he wouldn’t try to date the girl his brother was dating. Sighing, he watches as the numbers finally approach his floor.
The second he walks onto his floor, he's bombarded with even more decorations. More of the same from downstairs, but there were also skeletons (dressed in tiny costumes), plastic bags, and Marinette- for some reason- had a witch's hat on. Tim's eyebrow raises. 
"Feeling festive?" He asks, confused. It's not that Marinette was always serious. In fact, he'd seen her leap over a counter for a cup of coffee. But he'd never seen her in a hat. Especially not a witch hat. 
"Is it too much? We don't really do Halloween in France, not like this anyway." She says nervously, touching the hat.
"Well, er, it's definitely more than I'm used to." He says, before the pieces click together. "Wait a minute, did you decorate the entire building?" Tim asks, completely shocked. Though, he probably shouldn't be. The woman was a force of nature. Marinette blushes. 
"Yeah, I just thought- sorry, Jason mentioned something about it the other day.” She says and Tim sighs. Of course his asshole brother had something to do with this. Tim drops into the seat in front of Marinette’s desk and smiles at her gently. 
“What exactly did he say?” Tim asks, and Tim’s surprised to see that Marinette’s face can get even more red. She mumbles something, and Tim frowns. “Couldn’t hear you, Mari.” He says. She sighs, pushing a stray piece of hair out of her face. 
“He said that you love Halloween.” She says again, and Tim blinks in surprise. 
“Wait, what?” 
“You, he said that you like Halloween. And I wasn’t exactly sure how much would be too much and I’ve never been great at subtlety and so I decided that it wouldn’t be the end of the world to do the whole tower instead of just this floor but then I had to call Jason to help me change the music in the elevator because I didn’t have the clearance for that and-” She rambles, and Tim frowns, reaching forward to grab her hands to try and get her to slow down, to help her calm down. She takes in a deep breath and grins at him, making his heart skip a beat. 
“Sorry, I just, you were rambling.” Tim says, quickly releasing her hands. 
“I really like you.” She blurts out, her eyes widening. Tim’s eyebrows shoot upwards. 
“I-you-Jason?” He says and she frowns. 
“What about Jason?” She asks. 
“You, you and Jason. I can’t- you’re dating Jason, aren’t you?” He asks, and she laughs, which confuses him even more. Was she laughing at him? Or at the suggestion? 
“Jason is one of my best friends. And, like my friends Adrien and Nino, he’s also practically my brother.” She explains, her amused smile shifting into something else. Something softer. 
“So you aren’t dating my brother?” Tim asks, and Marinette shakes her head, giggling softly. 
“If I was dating Jason, I definitely wouldn’t have decorated the entirety of Wayne Enterprises to try and ask you out.” She says. Tim grins as her words register. 
“You want to ask me out?” He clarifies, and she nods.
“Coffee after work? I’ll buy.” She offers, and he smiles. 
“As long as I can buy next time.” He says with a grin. Who knew a couple of decorations could lead to something so great.
Permanent tag list (open): @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @maribat-october-rarepairs
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hizashiiis · 3 years
Text
Bakusquad + “Why are you awake” Part Two
PART ONE HERE
So here’s part two! Fun fact, the song Jirou plays you in her part is actually a song I wrote! I didn’t include any of the lyrics though because its lowkey really cheesy :/
I hope you like this! This one is for Sero, Mina, and Jirou.
Warnings: insomnia, depression kinda
Sero Hanta
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- Sero is very much a hypocrite when it comes to getting enough sleep
- He’s constantly up at all hours, even sending you random texts if he can’t sleep
- But when you aren’t going to bed at a normal time?
- He’s so sad
- He looks like you kicked his puppy and then him in rapid succession. 
- It’s crazy because he seems to just instinctively know when you’re awake
- Like he bolts up in his bed all, “they ain’t in bed. I’m abt to beat some ass.”
- He’s never sure if he’s right though, so he texts you a meme he made specifically for you being up too late
- It’s probably really cheesy and outdated, but the effort is there
- If you respond to it (because you will) he knocks on the wall between your dorms and talks to you 
- Often, you both just stay up like that
Sero’s body is awake before his mind, moving him to sit up in bed before he can think. He was having a really intense dream; something about talking mice. He didn’t mind it, but he woke up as if he’d had a nightmare. 
Faintly, from the wall beside him, he can hear low music playing, but he can’t make out what song it is. It’s coming from your room, though, so he’s concerned. 
The sky outside is dark, clouds drifting across his windowed view of the moon. It must be pretty late; all the noise is gone, leaving nothing but static air, and the music. He leans over his bed to look at the time on his phone. It’s around 2 am. The song you’re playing ends, and he recognizes the next one. It’s on your sad playlist. 
He sends you the meme, as well as an invitation for a hug as soon as it’s morning. You respond almost instantly, assuring him that you’re fine, you just couldn’t sleep. But he knows you better than that. 
Knocking on the wall between you, he hears the music stop suddenly. He calls out to your wall. 
“Mi amor? What’s keeping you awake?” He’s met with silence for a moment before your shaky voice responds.
“I’m okay. I just kinda got hit with some sad, y’know?” He does know. He knows that this happens sometimes. It happens to him, too. But he hates hearing your voice sound so lost. You almost sound hopeless, and he can’t bear it. 
“I understand.” He places his hand up to the wall, wishing he could hold you. Unfortunately, you had both been told off by Iida for sleeping in each other’s rooms more than enough times lately, so he couldn’t just go see you. He opts instead for hugging a stuffed giraffe you had gotten him after the Sports Festival. 
“Do you want me to distract you, or do you want to talk about it?” He asks, stroking the giraffe’s head as if it’s your hair, not knowing that on the other side of the wall, you’re holding a stuffed lion the same way. 
“Distract me?” Your voice comes out only just loud enough for him to hear you, but he understands. He begins to tell you a story. He’s told it before. It’s about a great hero, one who fights crime valiantly, and his partner, also a fantastic hero. He ad-libs parts of it, making pretend villains say silly slogans, and recounting how the heroes save the day. 
As he reaches the end, he hears you giggle a bit. “Oh? Did it work? Are you smiling over there, my sweet?” He calls to you, a teasing lilt to his voice. 
“A little bit.” You respond, playing with your stuffed animal. “If you keep talking, maybe I’ll even smile more.”
He laughs, eyes bleary with sleep, but happy to talk to you the whole night.
Mina Ashido
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- Honestly, she’s no better than you about staying awake
- She tries to sleep, but her thoughts are always racing
- Sometimes it’s thoughts of you, sometimes of new things she wants to try in training, or things she wants to see if she can convince her friends to do
- But she wants you to get adequate rest, even if it’s hard for her to do the same
- She used to get told off for sneaking to your room every night, but then Momo and Iida saw how much better you were performing in school on the days after she’d been there, and they started letting it slide
- It’s nicer for her, too, because she has someone to ramble to as the two of you fall asleep
Mina skipped down the hallway toward your room. It was a bit past midnight, and usually, you would be asleep by this time. It was well past lights out, and classes had run long that day, not to mention the endless exams that were happening at UA right now. So when she reached your door, she was surprised to find you watching a movie on your phone instead of snoring. 
“Hey bug! Why are you still up, don’t you know what time it is?” She says, throwing a grin your way as she puts her blanket down next to you. 
You shrug, yawning. “I could ask you the same thing, love.” She pouts at that, tossing her arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple.
She watches you watching your show for a few minutes before saying anything. It looks good, she supposes, but she has a better idea of what to watch. “Scoot over.” She pushes you lightly, giggling as you scrunch to the side to give her more room. “Do you wanna watch something with me?” She asks, holding up her phone. 
You look at her for a moment. “That is what we are currently doing, is it not?” You hold up your phone in return, showing her the paused screen. 
“But I have a better movie!” She insists, unlocking her screen and shoving it above yours so that you can see her pick. She’s right, it is a better movie. You guys have watched the entire Studio Ghibli filmography, but even you know that her favorite, “When Marnie was There,” is the better option at this particular moment. 
You toss your phone to the side, pulling her in to lay next to you. “Fair enough, bubs, I guess yours is better.” You feign reluctance, watching her excitedly press play and tuck the blanket in around the both of you. Her arm curls tighter around your shoulders, and she giggles as the opening credits start. 
“Hey Minari?” You use her favorite nickname, looking at her through hooded, sleepy eyes. She hums in response. “Why is this one your favorite?”
Hearing the question, she pauses the movie, turning to look right at you. She’s quiet for a moment, thinking about her answer. “I guess because they remind me of us! Like I’m Marnie, and you’re Anna, and we’re having this great adventure together!” You feel your face heat at her words, thinking about the movie more critically now. Mina continues, “It’s like…” she pauses, finding the right words. “Like Anna is learning how her friendship with Marnie can make her feel more right, as a person. And I feel like that about you!” 
You’re tearing up now, unsure how to respond. Mina is so many things, and being with you is that important to her? It’s a new feeling, but certainly a welcome one. You pull her down, giving her a kiss. And then another kiss. And one on her nose. 
“Press play, Mina.”
Kyoka Jirou
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- Lol u think she sleeps?
- She does, but not at night
- Were it not for classes, Jirou would be essentially nocturnal
- So you try to remind her to go to sleep
- Sometimes you’ll walk past her dorm at night, and you hear her guitar, softly playing her favorite songs
- Before you got together, sometimes you would sit outside her door and listen to her play
- Not in a creepy way, there’s just a little common area right outside her room and you like took a book there, you weren’t like ooh it’s late i think i’ll sit outside someone’s room and listen to them
- You aren’t Mineta. 
- But anyway
- Now that you are together, Jirou thinks it’s really sweet that you listen to her play
- Sometimes she leaves her door cracked open so you can come in
It’s 4 o’clock in the morning, and the light is on in Jirou’s room. You had come out to go to the bathroom, but you noticed her guitar, and decided to stay. The soft strumming is pretty, and you’re glad to be one of the few people allowed to hear it. 
Opening Jirou’s door just a bit more, you nod toward her desk chair in a silent question. She nods, so you go sit down. 
She’s playing a song you don’t recognize, and the lyrics are sad. Even still, it’s beautiful, and your eyes seem to naturally close, taking in the melody of her voice. She used to tell you her voice wasn’t anything special, but she seems content now to let you listen. 
The guitar resonates with the last few chords, and the ending note is held for three beats. When she’s finished, Jirou opens her eyes and looks at you, waiting for your thoughts.
“It was beautiful. Did you write that?” You ask her, your hands fidgeting with the urge to hold her own. She nods, but doesn’t say anything. 
You don’t acknowledge the sad theme of the song. She’s told you before that sometimes sad songs are easier than happy ones. That the melody is clearer. You don’t mind. All her songs are beautiful, and they reflect her in them, and isn’t that what makes a piece of art?
“I have another one, if you’d like to hear it?” She looks nervous; something you never see on her.
“I’d love to!” Your exclamation seems to snap her out of the anxiety in her eyes, which narrow a little. 
“Just…” She starts, looking away from you to adjust the capo on her instrument. “Don’t freak out, okay?”
Confused, you nod, and she starts playing. 
The song starts out with a few chords repeating in a loop, and then she begins to sing. The lyrics are confusing to you at first, and you still aren’t sure why she’s told you not to freak out. But then she gets to the chorus, and it begins to make more sense. 
Lyrics, in essence, are a poem, and this one is a love poem. Her thoughts, written out, are so sweet and loving, that you’re sure you don’t know what to think. She sings elegantly, like someone who’s never known how to dance, and yet is waltzing perfectly across a shining floor. 
She finishes the song with a declaration of loyalty, and you realize your eyes are watering. She looks at you, waiting for your thoughts. 
You say nothing. You don’t know how to say anything, so you stand, cross to her, and pull her into a hug. She’s not usually one for physical touch, but she holds you tightly. 
“It’s about me, right?” You laugh, leaving a kiss on her calloused fingers. She rolls her eyes. 
“Obviously.”
She smiles at you, pulling you to lay on her bed as she puts her guitar in its case, taking the capo off the strings. “You should sleep. It’s like, morning now.”
“You should too.” You retort, still holding her hand. 
“No.”
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ladydimitrescuspet · 3 years
Text
Just This Once, Your Ears Only
AO3 link! this is for my anon that just found out about miss d and the pallboys and wanted a fic about it so here you go! I hope y'all enjoy this and apologies for any grammatical errors!
Tag List (form to join): @lord-dimitrescu, @alwaysgoodnight, @paint-it-periwinkle, @lightspica, @ultimatebottom69, @sexyheisenbeast, @crazy-obsessed, @squid3, @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu, @the-obscurity, @sapphicalciee, @ladydimitresculove, @solemnnova, @itsyourgirlmalise, @the-little-shadow, @marvelwomen-simp,@rachelthefanfictionwriter, @d14n4ol, @peachesandlesbians
-----
Alcina didn’t talk much about her past and that was fine. You always cherished the things that she had told you about her time before Mother Miranda and the cadou. You never pushed her to tell you more than she was comfortable, but when you found that old jazz album in a box your curiosity was piqued. How had she not told you that she used to be in a jazz band called Miss D & the Pallboys? Honestly, you were pretty shocked that Alcina hadn’t told you about this part of her life. So when you brought it to her, your find, she was a bit hostile about it.
“Ali, come on. This is really cool.” You said. “I know you don’t often talk about your past, but I really want to know more about this.”
Alcina sighed, rubbing her temples to ebb away the oncoming headache. “Dear, I’ve already said that I don’t wish to revisit such a trivial time in my life.” Alcina replied.
“But I’ve never heard you sing.” You counter. “I’ve heard you hum, I’ve heard you play the piano, but I’ve never once heard you sing.”
“And I’m afraid you’ll never get the opportunity to. My singing days are long behind me and I’d like to keep it that way.” Alcina replied.
You frowned, but ultimately accepted your defeat. “Alright, Ali, I’m sorry. You win.” For now, at least. Time for Plan B. “Can I visit Karl this week?” You asked.
Alcina groaned. “I am not sure how you became friends with that annoying little imp, but I do need you out of the Castle tomorrow so I suppose you may go and visit him then.” Alcina responded. “However, when you leave, have him escort you home. As much as I despise that man-child, there have been lycans spotted around the village and forest more so than usual in the evening, so you’ll be safe with that little idiot by your side.”
You gave her a smile and nod as you did an internal happy dance. “I will call him now to let him know. I’ll even throw in a little threat so he knows you’re serious, Ali.” You teased. Alcina snorted at that. “Alcina?” She hummed in acknowledgment. “Have you ever tried to say something nice about Karl or even tried to be a little bit nicer to him?” You asked.
Alcina looked up at you. “When that insufferable idiot is nicer to me then I shall repay him in kind. Until then, if he keeps calling me lady super sized bitch, I will continue to refer to him as a child. Although, he really is a child regardless of what affectionate nicknames he has for our so called family.” Alcina replied. “But Heisenberg being nice to me will never happen in a million years.”
"Are you willing to bet on that?" You asked. Alcina whirled her eyebrow at you. "If Karl does something nice for you then you have to sing one of your jazz songs for me."
"And if he doesn't?" Alcina asked.
"Then you get whatever you want from me." You replied.
Alcina hummed. "And if I want you chained to my bed all day to do with as I please, I can have that?" You nodded your head. "Then I believe we have a bet on our hands, dear."
You gave her a nervous smile before excusing yourself from her study. After you left, you made your way to your own study. The thought of it made you smile. Alcina had realised that you didn’t have a room in the castle to call your own, so she allowed you to remake one of them into your own, so to speak. It was still decorated the way Alcina had, but now it had more of your things in it to keep you occupied if Alcina went out for a meeting or if you just needed a quiet space to be in.
The first thing you did upon entering your study was call Karl. You let him know that you’d be over early and you even mentioned the bet you had going on with Alcina. “Lady Super Sized Bitch is going down.” were his exact words and they made you laugh. After you said goodbye to him, you called Donna and asked her if she could sew some costumes up for you, the girls, and Karl. You were glad that she had agreed and accepted your invitation to Jazz Friday as opposed to Opera Wednesday. This week’s meeting had been moved from Friday to Wednesday so Opera Night had been moved to Friday. You really hoped that Alcina wouldn’t mind you hijacking her night with your plan and with only five days to get it all planned, you really didn’t have time to work yourself into a tizzy with worrying.
You spent the next day with Karl, telling him what instruments you’d need him to produce for the show. With that taken care of, you could talk to the girls about the surprise and the parts that they’d play for Jazz Night. You made sure all of the Lords had an invitation for Friday. You would’ve invited Mother Miranda, but she was out of the village on business. You were nervous when Friday finally came, making sure everything was perfect.
“Hey, kiddo, don’t worry. Alci’s gonna love it.” Karl said as he fussed over his tuxedo.
You let out a deep breath and smiled at him. “Of course. Or at least I hope she does.” You replied. You held the microphone in your hand when you heard Alcina’s voice.
“Donna, Moreau, it’s a pleasure to have you two with us tonight. I see Heisenberg has failed to join us for another evening.” That made Karl scowl. “Nevertheless, the show must go on. My wonderful daughters and my lovely partner, Y/N, have prepared something special for us tonight. So please sit back and enjoy the show.” Alcina said, finishing off her speech before sitting in her seat.
A couple of maids opened the curtain and you could hear the small gasp Alcina let out, your face starting to heat up. You’d had Karl make a saxophone for Bela, a piano for Cassandra that she could comfortably sit at, a cello for Daniela, and a trumpet for himself. Whilst Donna made tuxedos for all of you. The girls and Karl wore black tuxedos with white dress shirts, the only difference being that the girls had their gemstones on the collar of their shirts and Karl’s didn’t. Your tuxedo was white and you had a hat on with a feather like the one Alcina wore on the cover of the Miss D & the Pallboys album. You managed to not let your nerves get to you as you sang a Nat King Cole classic, Unforgettable. When the performance was over the five of you bowed before the curtain closed.
“Y/N, that was amazing!” Bela said. “I think I saw Mother tearing up out there so I’d say that she loved the performance!”
You scratched at the back of your head, laughing nervously. “Really? I just wish we could’ve sung a Miss D & the Pallboys original for her too, but you can’t go wrong with a classic like Unforgettable.” You replied. “Now you three go get changed, you still have to do that Italian opera piece your mother picked out for you.”
Daniela gave you a hug. “Thank you for putting this together.” Daniela said into your ear.
Cassandra gave you a smile. “And we completely understand if you want to skip the rest of the show. Putting together something like this sounds very tiring.” You nodded your head before wishing them good luck.
The rest of the night was purely opera, but you didn’t have it in yourself to join the others back out in the audience while the girls did their performance. So you had made your way back to the room that you shared with Alcina, putting on your pyjamas and curling up into bed with a book. And that’s how Alcina found you, except you were almost half asleep with the book lying across your stomach.
“Darling?” Alcina called out softly, rousing you from your sleep. You hummed in acknowledgment to let her know you were still with her. Alcina took that opportunity to put on her nightgown before slipping into the bed next to you, pulling you into her side. “Did you put together that whole thing just for me?” Alcina asked.
You nodded. “I did. Not alone though. Karl and Donna really helped out. And Moreau was the one that recommended the song I sang, Mother Miranda bless him for the suggestion.” You mumbled out slightly before yawning.
Alcina pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you, My Love. Now, I do believe I lost a bet so I’ll give you your reward, yes?” You sleepily nodded your head against her side. “Alright, little one, but just this once and for your ears only. And only because you got that idiot oaf to do something nice for me.” Alcina said.
“Be nice, Ali.” You mumbled again, smiling at the grumbling noises that Alcina made at your words but you could faintly make out her saying “Fine,” before you let out a hum of approval.
After a few seconds of silence, you heard Alcina start to sing the words to a song you didn’t know. You could only assume that it was one of the songs she sang with her band and you smiled. Alcina really did have a beautiful singing voice.
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sundaysundaes · 3 years
Text
My Words, Your Thoughts (Teaser)
Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut | Soulmate AU, Friends-to-Lovers AU
Part of the beautiful ‘Aubade’ collaboration hosted by @hyucksie​
Synopsis: As an introvert, you are familiar with the silence. Drowning yourself deep in your thoughts has been a habit you’ve become addicted to. Your life begins to change, however, ever since the day you turned twenty. Suddenly, there’s this song that’s stuck in your head, and no matter how much you yearn to hear your thoughts or be comforted by the silence, it keeps on playing. You only get to find the answer to your problem when a young, cute barista hands you a cup of coffee one day, with that song’s lyrics written on the side. And you realize that you’re not the only one who’s been hearing voices in your head.
Warnings: explicit sex, expletives, mentions of physical abuse and astraphobia (not for the main characters)
WC (Teaser): 4k
Release Date: June 27, 2021, 10 AM KST
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It’s weird. It’s so weird.
It’s weird that you’ve been hearing this song replaying over and over again in your head when you’re sure you’ve never listened to it before. It’s also weird because sometimes the song sounds like the ones you often hear about on the radio—complete with instrumental accompaniment and everything—but most of the time, it just sounds like someone is humming to it. Sometimes quietly, but more often than not, vehemently like they’re having a concert in the shower, not caring if the neighbors might hear.
As someone who rarely listens to mainstream music, you don’t keep up with the trend these days but the tunes are catchy enough that you think, maybe, it’s one of those Justin Bieber’s songs people always talk about. You’re not fond of it, though, so even if you’ve heard it somewhere in a cafe or a mall, there’s very little chance you’ll be humming it in your head.
And yet, it keeps on playing.
It gets worse when it goes on for a whole day—a whole fucking day—that your brain feels like it’s seconds away from bursting into pieces. It doesn’t even sound like your voice. It seems like it belongs to a male, a bit light and a pitch higher than most. Though it sounds pleasant, the voice is unfamiliar to your ears and that’s what bothers you the most. 
Trying your best to escape, you plug in your AirPods to your earholes, choosing one of the most beloved tracks from your playlist—today, it’s Bloom by The Paper Kites—to help you relax as you lie down on your bed. But no matter how many times you turn up the volume—it’s practically turning you deaf, ironically—you can still hear that one goddamn song playing.
“Oh my God,” you groan, projecting a murderous glare at the ceiling of your room before you shriek all of your heart’s content to your pillow. “Make it stop!”
This has been going on ever since your twentieth birthday and it’s been three months since then—three months of suffering, to be exact. Fortunately for you, you haven’t been listening to the same song for those amount of time—God, you would’ve killed yourself if that was the case. The song changes without warning. It can change ten times within a day, or stay the same for ten days. You have never heard of these songs except for the popular ones, and even then, you only ever listened to snippets as they don’t suit your taste. 
So… It doesn’t make sense that you could recite the whole lyrics, does it? 
And yet, you can. 
Somehow, you already know every word, every tune, even every ad-lib in these songs and it both amazes and creeps you out. It’s as if somebody else is singing about it in their mind, and you, somehow, are mentally connected to them.
But that’s surely not the case, right?
With more days passing by, as your brain deteriorates little by little, you start to think that maybe that is the case.
Or maybe you’re just going crazy.
It’s nine in the morning and your eyes are bleary from how you involuntarily skipped sleep last night. With the loudest sigh and your half-charged MacBook sitting still in your backpack, you let your wobbly legs carry you to the nearest coffee shop. There’s a new Starbucks store opening just a couple of blocks away from your apartment and it’s perfect since you’re going to pass it every day on your way to college. 
You’re not excited though, not when you have Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror playing in your head for the, approximately, thirty-fifth time that day. And it’s only nine in the fucking morning.
When you enter the coffee shop, greeted by a cute Christmas tree and festive decorations spreading all over the place even when it’s still three weeks away from the holiday, you almost weep in joy when the song stops playing in your head. It does happen from time-to-time, sometimes it stops for a few hours before it starts again with the same song or an entirely different one. But in most cases, it only pauses for a few minutes which just doubles the torture whenever you’re trying to concentrate on your paperwork.
“Hi.” You display a timid smile at a female barista, slightly wincing when the song in your head starts blaring again, as expected. It’s still the same song this time—so that thirty-sixth by now, Jesus Christ—but instead of someone humming it, it’s the original version that plays. You’re having trouble focusing on her greeting when the sound of a synthesizer echoes through your ear, stridently so. “I would like a tall skinny latte with a double shot, please.”
“Would you like anything else to accompany your drink?”
Perhaps a gun to blow my head off? “No, thanks. That’d be all for me.”
“Is that for here or to go?”
You take a quick scan of your surroundings. You still have an hour before your first class starts and since the place isn’t that crowded, you figure you might as well just spend some time here. “For here.”
You tell her your name and slide down your card to complete the payment. “All right. We will call your name once your order is ready.”
“Fantastic. Thanks.” As the female barista takes an order from another customer, you drag yourself to an empty seat in the corner of the room, next to the glassy window where you can glance at passersby. You lay your head down on the table, cheek pressed against the wooden surface, lower lip jutting out in weariness. You’re drowsy and you want to think about the snow that’s probably gonna fall sometimes near Christmas’ Day and maybe the sight of a warm fireplace where you can cozy up with your imaginary boyfriend (also known as Jung Jaehyun—that one perfect boy who lives just across of your hallway), but no, unfortunately for you, you no longer have any space left in your brain since Michael Jackson is performing a damn concert and it doesn’t seem like he’s gonna stop anytime soon.
“I’m starting with the man in the mirror…” Great, now you’re singing it. “I’m asking him to change his ways…”
The music in your head abruptly stops again but before you can close your eyes to finally enjoy your silence, a familiar voice chimes in.
“It’s a great song, isn’t it?”
Shocked, you quickly lift your head to identify a male barista placing down a cup of your ordered latte on your table. You swear you recognize his voice but his face doesn’t ring a bell.
“Hi,” he greets, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I don’t usually bring orders directly to the table but I think I misheard your name so I couldn’t call you out from there.”
“That’s, umm, that’s okay…” You hide the bottom half of your face behind your scarf as you’re not used to talking to a stranger, especially one that looks overwhelmingly pretty. “What did you think my name was?”
“Umm…” He rubs the back of his nape awkwardly. “I don’t think you want to know. It was a bit… inappropriate.”
“R-right…” You glance at the cup. “It says ‘Michael.’”
He chuckles but with only a slight hint of amusement in it. “Yeah, sorry about that. I had to come up with something and it was the first thing that came to mind.”
“And it has…” Your eyes widen when you notice the words he’s written on the side of your cup. It’s not a greeting, it’s not a motivational sentence, it’s the fucking lyrics to Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror.
“Yeah, okay, so—” Noticing the appalled look on your face, he hurriedly tries to reason out. “I’ve had this song stuck in my head all day long—I just listened to it a minute ago while making your order—and the lyrics are just so inspirational so I decided to write that down. I hope that’s not too weird.” Then he laughs a little, a tad more genuinely this time. “But I heard you singing that song just now. What are the chances, right?”
You swallow hard. He’s been thinking about that song too? Listened to it a minute ago? What are the chances of this is happening? Is he the one whose voices I’ve been hearing in my head—
The male barista abruptly takes a step back, his tray nearly slipping out of his hold. He has a hand pressed against his ear, eyes blinking several times in disbelief. “Holy shit.”
“Excuse me?”
“You—” He splutters, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I can’t believe it’s real.”
“What?” The way he seems like he’s looking at a ghost sends goosebumps all over your skin. “What is it?”
“Think about something.” 
“Umm—” What is he talking about?
This time he gapes, his jaw dropping low. “Holy shit, I can really hear you. Think about something else—think about me.”
“Look, I don’t know you and you’re being weird.” The sudden change of conversation baffles you but when his words sink in, you can’t stop yourself from thinking about him as he orders. He’s cute, his entire features are cute—you’ve noticed that from the first second you laid your eyes on him, but what catches your eyes the most is his lips—the way they’re shaped so beautifully, like a cupid’s bow—
“You’re thinking about my lips? Seriously?” He asks, but might as well splash cold water to your face. “If you said something about my eyes, sure, I mean, they are attractive. One might even say that God Himself took the stars from the sky and put them in my eyes—but my lips? Huh, that’s new.”
You loudly gasp when you’re finally aware of the situation, hands flying to your face to cover your gaping mouth. “You can hear my thoughts!”
“And you can hear mine too!” He points out, and as startled as you are from the previous realization, you instantly frown upon his words. 
“I don’t think so,” you reply. “I can only hear—”
“Donghyuck-ah!” Another barista comes to interrupt from the other side of the room. “We didn’t pay you to flirt, come back here!”
“I wasn’t flirting!” He shouts back, tips of his ears reddening. When he turns to you again, he has a prominent scowl on his face which makes you squirm on your feet. “We need to talk about this. My break is in an hour, do you think you can wait?”
It sounds more like an order than a request. “B-but I have a class in an hour.”
“Skip it.”
It takes all the strength in your body to be brave enough to retort back with, “Why don’t you skip your work?”
“I’m already half-done with my work, I can’t bail out now.” He rolls his eyes. Suddenly, his courteousness just vanishes without a trace. “Look, I’ve been hearing your thoughts for months now and I have a lot to complain to you about.”
You grimace. “It’s not like I can control my thoughts—”
“I know, I’m not blaming you.” He picks up the tray, his gaze softening but only slightly. “I just want to complain. You’ve been driving me crazy these past few months.”
You glance away, pouting. Wow, he surely knows how to befriend a stranger.
“I can hear you, you know.” He sighs as if talking to you is exhausting, when it should be the other way around. “Look, I’m sure you’ve been going through the same thing. Don’t you want this to stop?”
You’re not wasting any second. “Yes, please.”
“Then wait for me. We’ll talk this through.” He pivots on his heels, his tray glued to his side. When you can finally breathe properly, exhausted from the social interaction as you sink back to your seat, the barista—Donghyuck—adds, “Oh, as you wait. Can you please stop thinking about my lips? Or just how cute I am in general? It’s sweet but I gotta concentrate so I won’t write another Michael on my next order.”
You slam your forehead down the table, face aflame. “I-I’ll try.”
“Thanks.”
***
“You just can’t stop thinking about my lips, can you?” Is the first thing Donghyuck states out as soon as he’s approached your table. He runs a hand through his brown hair, which looks out-worldly fluffy that you begin to wonder what kind of hair product he’s been using. “Or my hair.”
Mortified, you mumble out, “I’m sorry,” with half of your face covered by your hands. The more I try not to think about his lips, the more I do—shit, is he hearing this too—
“Yes,” Donghyuck says, but this time with an amused smile. “Man, I didn’t know my lips were that appealing to ladies. You’re gonna make me blush.”
Well, he’s making you blush for sure. “Would it be too much to ask for you to stop listening to my thoughts?”
“Believe me, woman, I’ve tried.” He groans, taking his apron off before he sits in front of you. He loosens up his collar, unbuttoning two buttons of his white shirt—which is two more than necessary to your liking—and you have to gaze away before another thought forms inside your head about a certain part of his body. 
“Sorry if I came on too strong before. I’m Lee Donghyuck,” he introduces formally, offering you his hand. You reply with your name but you’re reluctant to shake his hand since you’re sure you’re breaking into a cold sweat, and an overly sweaty palm doesn’t really scream attractive—
“It’s literally just a handshake,” he says, stifling down a laugh. “I’m not gonna start judging you about it. You’re cute, sweaty palms or not.”
You nearly choke. “If I can’t ask you to stop listening to my thoughts, can you please be quiet about them?”
“That’s also impossible since talking is an integral part of my charm.” He leans back to his chair. “I’m pretty good with my mouth.”
That was… a poor choice of words, you think, as you stare at his lips and can’t help but wonder what can that mouth do other than talking. You take a bite of the bagel you just ordered, desperately trying to avert your attention.
“It wasn’t a poor choice of words.” He winks. “I did mean that in every way possible.”
This time, you really are choking.
“Okay, so what’s happening to us?” Donghyuck questions, after you manage to shed a tear or two during your attempt in relieving your throat. “Why have I been hearing your thoughts? I don’t even know you.”
“Same here.” You’re still going through a hard time keeping eye contact with him, but with more seconds passing by—and him pronouncing every bit of your thoughts out in the open—the knots inside your chest begin to loosen. “Ever since I turned twenty, I’ve been hearing these songs playing in my head that I’d never even heard of.”
“Never heard of?” Donghyuck snorts. “What, you never listen to Billboard’s top forty?”
You weakly shrug. “I prefer indie music better. Or instrumentals.”
“I would say that you have a soul of an old lady but the way you’ve been thinking about my lips reminds me of my sister who’s going through puberty.”
“Okay, this isn’t fair.” You shake your head, ashamed and tired of being humiliated over something you can’t fix. “Why can you hear my thoughts but I can’t hear yours?”
“Believe me, you’re much better off this way.” His face contorts in pain which makes you feel somewhat sorry if he’s not constantly being an ass about it. Hearing your insult, he notes, “Also, I’d prefer to be called with terms of endearment in the future, if that’s okay with you. Something like Babe or Darling.” The way he raises his eyebrow is just strictly illegal. “And in return, I’ll call you Sweetheart.” But before you can say anything—or run toward a running bus to put an end to this endless humiliation—he questions, “Wait, when you hear the songs I’ve been thinking in my head, does it sound like the original version of the song, or like me singing it?”
Finally, a proper conversation. “If you’re listening to the actual music, I can hear the original song as if I’m hearing it through my headphones. But when you’re just thinking about it, well, I‘ve never heard you sing, but,” you decide to tease him back—which startles you from how blatant you’re being. “From how amateur and pitchy this voice sounded in my head, I think I’ve been hearing yours.”
“Cute.” He scrunches up his nose. “Okay, let’s try again. Can you hear what song running through my head now?”
You stiffen, sitting in silence. After a few seconds pass by with only you exchanging stern stares at each other, your eyes gleam with a spark of hope. “Wait, I can’t hear you. Does this mean it stops? Because we’ve met in person?”
“Sadly no, because I was just thinking about how silly you looked when you choked over your food earlier.” He chuckles to himself and sends you another wink when you degrade him in your head. “Okay, let’s try again.”
“For real this time?”
“For real this time, Sweetheart.” He closes his eyes, holding back a smile when he catches how you flinch a little at his pet name for you. This time, you really do hear him humming inside your mind. “Don’t tell me by words,” he immediately adds, “Just think about them.”
Heaving a sigh, you close your eyes too. I’ve heard this song somewhere.
“If you’ve never heard about this song, I will literally cry and apologize to the world on your behalf.”
Be quiet, please, I’m trying to concentrate.
“Worried that you’d be thinking about my lips again?”
You almost fall from your seat. Almost. Okay, you’re singing to… You knit your eyebrows together as you provide your best effort to remember the tunes. You’re singing to Super Mario Bros theme song?
“Correct.” He taps his fingers to the table, simpering. “This is actually pretty cool. We can be, like, partners in crime or something.”
You shudder. “Please don’t tell me you’re an actual criminal.”
“If looking this handsome is a crime then I am, yes. Guilty as charged.” He makes a kissy face when you think about throwing the rest of your bagel to his head. “You look like someone who writes fan-fiction about their idols having sappy first kisses in your spare time but you’re actually pretty wild in your head, aren’t you?” He loves seeing your reactions, you know that, so you give your all in trying to act nonchalant. “Now, let’s try again. Did you bring your headphones with you?”
You check your coat’s pocket. “I got my AirPods.”
“Perfect. Put them on and play something from your phone.” As someone who’s pretty carefree, he can get serious at times. “Play as loud as you can until you feel like you’re going deaf.”
“I’ve tried that many times.” You nearly wail at the memory. “But it’s hard to drown your voice since it comes from inside my head.”
“Yeah, I know that. I’ve been hearing your thoughts too, remember? Don’t you think I would at least try something like that?” You narrow your eyes menacingly at him but he simply waves you off. “Anyway, that’s not what I’m trying to do. Put them on and you’ll see.”
He’s ordering you around. He just met you and he’s ordering you around. Socializing with people in general already zaps your energy pretty quickly, so socializing with a brat—
“I’ll grow on you, don’t worry.” He smirks and you take a mental note to really learn how to control your thoughts this time.
You follow his lead, as requested, connecting your AirPods to your phone and play something relaxing—because God knows how desperately you need it—as loudly as you can bear. Okay, go try… whatever it is that you want to try.
He smiles and shifts slightly on his seat, facing the window. His eyes glimmer under the light when he parts his lips, mouthing some words—no, singing something that you can’t hear.
Wait. I can’t hear?
Donghyuck glances at you, a grin breaking further on his lips upon hearing your thought. He gestures to you to take your AirPods away and you nod. Vacation Manor’s You promptly fades as his voice enters, and it’s weird because you’ve heard him sing in your head so many times yet it doesn’t do justice to how beautiful he sounds in real life.
It’s almost angelic, the sound he makes, which is kind of ironic for a little devil that he is. His honeyed voice is soothing, almost like the patter of rain on your window at dawn, lulling you back to sleep. You’re no expert in music but to you, he sounds impeccable that you run out of words to describe how pleasant his voice is to your ears. It’s so distinct, soulful—
Donghyuck giggles. “Thanks.”
—and annoying. “Okay, so what happened?” You try to divert the topic. “I can’t hear you when you’re singing out loud, but I can hear it when you’re thinking about a song?”
“I guess so.” He furrows his eyebrows, deep within his thoughts. “I figured it out when I couldn’t hear your thoughts whenever you spoke out loud. I think we can work from this?”
“So instead of thinking about what I have to say, I should focus more on saying what I want to say?” You shake in horror. “I don’t think I can do that.”
“What, you don’t like talking?”
“I’m…” You swallow your breath. “I’m not really good at that.”
“You’re talking to me just fine now, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, because you make it so easy.”
“Aaw,” he purrs, a lopsided smile painting his face. “Thanks, Sweetheart.”
“No.” You hold up a hand. “I mean, since you can hear my thoughts, I have no other choice but to speak. Also, you seem like you’re the type who just says whatever that comes to mind without worrying too much about my feelings—”
“Hey, now you’re just making me sound rude—”
“You are rude,” You emphasize. “But it works well with me because then I don’t have to hold myself back and pretend to be somebody else.”
“Why do you have to pretend?” He frowns. “Because you’re afraid people are gonna hate you? Judge you on your words?”
“It’s…” You look away, nibbling on your bottom lip. “I just… I’m trying to be a good person so people will like me—”
“I like you,” he says casually as if he was talking about having a cute Pomeranian as a pet, and there you are, almost fainting in your seat. “I mean, in the last forty minutes I’ve known you, I think you’re great the way you are. You don’t have to be good, you just have to be you.” He shifts closer, crossing his arms on the table, and lays his chin on them, gazing up at you with a soft smile that doesn’t match well with his previous attitude. “Don’t you think it’s great if people accept you the way you are?”
You hurriedly take a sip of your coffee, pretending to swallow even if it’s already empty. “You’re… not so bad yourself.”
“What was that?”
“Okay, well I think I should go.” There’s no way you’re gonna repeat that. Donghyuck titters, taking a hold of your wrist when you’re about to stand up from your seat.
“We still have loads to talk about.” You observe the way his fingers linger around your arm, his sun-kissed skin feels silky smooth against your own. “Why don’t we have lunch together? My treat?”
“D-don’t you have work to do?”
“I’ll make an excuse.” 
A barista with the word Jeno written on his name tag walks by and slaps Donghyuck on the back of his head as if it’s something he’s done on a daily basis—probably is. “You’re not going anywhere, asswipe, get back to work.”
When the brunette boy turns to you, he winces. “Or maybe you can give me your number so we can meet up later?”
***
A/N: I’m both nervous and excited for this as this is my first collaboration. Thank you so much, Denise, for having me on this wonderful collab!
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All Demons are Entitled to Vacation Time (Because The Devildom Isn’t a Dystopia)
Part One (you are here!) Part Two Masterlist
Genuine friends in the Devildom were hard to come by, and the human exchange student had noticed that the brothers had been working her new friend to death, so she decided that the poor bastard needed some time off. The brothers agreed, but come to notice that they may have become a tad dependent on their makeshift assistant’s help.
(Just a heads up, this fic features an OC and my personal MC, so the MC will be using she/her pronouns, if you’re uncomfortable with that, no harm no foul, see you next fic. Anyway, enjoy Paimon’s mental breakdown and the boys being jerks!)
“Do you need anything else, Lord Lucifer?”
“Yes Paimon, get me a coffee.”
“The usual?”
“Yes, and do hurry up, I have work to do.”
Paimon quickly nodded and scampered out of Lucifer’s office at RAD. Sure it was after school, and sure Paimon had other things to do, and sure, he needed to sleep, but when the seven rulers of hell declare you their assistant, you be their fucking assistant.
“Oi!” Paimon felt the back of his uniform get balled up and he braced himself to be thrown into the nearest locker. “Pipsqueak, I need help with my homework.”
“H-hi Lord Mammon, s-sure, when do you want-”
“Nah nah nah,” Mammon spun Paimon around to face him. “I need, ‘help’ with my homework.”
The purple haired demon winced as he rummaged around his backpack and pulled out the assignment that Mammon had neglected to do. “R-remember to change up some words so-”
“I know how to copy homework! I’m not some dunce!” Mammon not so nicely set Paimon free from his 80s movie bully shirt grab and walked off. He whistled some made up tune and sporadically grumbled about finding his missing human.
Cheating on assignments was punishable by hanging from one’s thumbs in the glorified torture chamber known as the detention hall. Paimon had never been down there due to the fact that the place was reserved for the worst troublemakers, but he was pretty sure Mammon was familiar with it. Why didn’t he learn..?
While entranced with his thoughts of torture and mayhem, (see, Paimon could be a demon sometimes) Paimon didn’t notice the Avatar of Envy peeking around the nearest corner and nearly ran right into him.
“S-sorry Lord Leviathan!” Paimon sputtered. Levi’s head swivelled to Paimon as he began to stutter out a reply.
“G-good! You’re here! Get rid of them!”
“Get rid of who..?” Paimon looked around the corner and noticed a group of students just milling about and chatting. “Oh, right away sir.”
This wasn’t the first time Paimon had to do traffic control for Leviathan, and it wouldn’t be his last. He made up some bullshit lie about the hall needing to be cleaned and the students grumbled and slowly filed out. Once the hall was clear, Levi brushed past Paimon without even so much as a thank-you. He mumbled something about sending normies to deal with normies and disappeared down the hall.
Next up on his trip to get Lucifer a coffee, he ran into Satan, thankfully, he didn’t literally run into him.
“Ah, Paimon, give these to Barbatos, last time I saw him he was in the colosseum with Lord Diavolo.” Satan, barely even looking at the poor demon, slapped a huge stack of papers into his arms and strode down the hallway like he didn’t have a care in the world. Shit, and Paimon still had to get Lucifer coffee…
“Ah, there you are Paimon dear,” Paimon needed to muster up all his willpower to not openly roll his eyes as he met the gaze of the cheery Avatar of Lust.
“Lord Asmodeus,” Paimon said blankly. “How may I help you?”
“Take these to Majolish after you’re done… whatever you’re doing. On the double, sil vou plait!” Asmo shoved a massive stack of fabric on top of the paperwork Paimon was holding, causing him to stumble back a bit. “And if any of those touch this disgusting floor, I will personally claw each of your little freckles off your face.”
“Yes sir…” Paimon barely suppressed a growl as Asmo sashayed away from what one could barely call a conversation. As much as Paimon wanted to throw both the fabric and the paperwork into the nearest trash can, Paimon knew that both things could be recycled, and he also valued his life and his freckles.
Maybe he could run to the colosseum on the way to getting Lucifer’s coffee, torture two traitors with one tool, or however the saying goes! Paimon picked up his pace, his vision almost completely obscured by the massive pile of fabric. Despite nearly tripping twice, he made it to the kitchen, started up the coffee maker, then ran to the colosseum to drop off the paperwork.
“Mr. Barbatos?” Paimon’s call for the butler’s attention was cut off by a growl that sent shivers down his spine. Right in the centre of the colosseum the Fangol team was getting into “oh fuck” formation. That could only mean one thing and one thing only… oh no… Lord Beelzebub was hungry… really hungry… who didn’t order snacks?!
“Dammit dammit dammit…” Paimon squeaked as he shifted the paperwork and fabric and rummaged through his bag for his lunch. If Beel didn’t get some sustenance quickly he’d wreck the entire school! “L-Lord Beelzebub?! D-D-Do you want my luh-lunch? Sir?”
Beel’s head swung around to the sound of Paimon’s voice and before he could blink, the Avatar of Gluttony was towering over him. Paimon gulped and held out his lunch bag, and Beel snatched it up and ate the entire thing whole. Well… Paimon needed to replace the lunch bag anyway… and he could always eat later. His stomach growled pitifully. He had made the mistake of skipping lunch…
“Mmm… more.” Beel said, Paimon was still shaking in his designer knockoff school shoes.
“S-sorry, I don’t have anything e-else but the cafeteria has leftovers I think…” Paimon squeaked, Beel nodded and lumbered off towards the cafeteria, his hunger tantrum momentarily halted. Paimon breathed a quick sigh of relief before he heard the sound of someone stirring from a nap next to him.
“Mmph…” Belphegor shot Paimon a glare that only those who just woke up from an hour long nap could. “What took you so long?”
“M-my apologies, Lord Belphegor.” Paimon adjusted his glasses and frowned. “Pardon, but do you know where Mr. Barbatos is?”
“The kitchen, he was making something for Beel.”
Paimon had… he just left the kitchen… damn it. Paimon nodded in thanks and rushed towards the kitchen. The coffee was done, the paperwork was delivered, the fabric hadn’t touched the ground, and Paimon was on his way to give Lucifer his stupid- I mean needed beverage.
He limply pushed open the door to Lucifer’s office with his shoulder and placed the coffee on his desk. Lucifer didn’t look up from his paperwork and raised an eyebrow. “I did say quickly, didn’t I?”
Paimon bit down on his lip, a tic developed under his left eye and he clenched his fists until he felt blood trickle from his palms. “S-sorry, Lord Lucifer. I’ll do better next time, sir.”
“You’re dismissed, Paimon.”
The moment those words left Lucifer’s lips, Paimon turned on his heel and walked right out of the office. He was done, so tired and… and so angry! He just wanted to relax, he just wanted to relax. Paimon’s feet led him to the concert hall. Ah, he was supposed to be the president of the school’s band, not the student council’s resident doormat. He could just call on his undead parade and play some music… that always kept him calm.
His thoughts of relaxation were brought to an abrupt halt the moment Paimon felt the sting of recent magic in the air around the hallway that led to the concert hall. Oh no, please tell him there wasn’t a fight near the concert hall, please tell him-
Two of his band members were in their true forms and hurling insults at each other. Phenex and Eurynome were standing in the midst of a completely destroyed concert hall, the instruments were scattered around the room, dented and completely broken… the two brawling demons paused when they noticed Paimon at the door.
“Prez! You won’t believe this shit! Someone vandalized our stuff, and Phenex’s accusing me!”
“Paimon! You hafta believe me! I walked in and Eury was-”
Their voices had become unintelligible background noise, Paimon’s eyes were glued to the destroyed instruments, his instruments… he felt his shoulders shake and his chest begin to tighten. Why… why!? Why him?! Why today?! Paimon dropped the fabric and his backpack onto the ground and slowly dug his partially bloodied palms into his hair. To his absolute horror, he felt tears threaten to spill from his eyes. Don’t cry- Don’t cry! He can’t cry!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHGHGGHHHHH!” Paimon let out a screech like a wounded animal, he felt his true form beg to be released so he could wreak absolute havoc on everyone and everything in a mile radius, but he yanked down on his hair and brought himself back to reality.
“Paimon?” The demon in question slowly turned, the human exchange student herself awkwardly stood a few feet behind him, seeming to not be sure exactly what to do. “Are… are you okay..?”
“Y-yes…” Paimon mumbled, his fists began to shake. “Th-thank you Ms. Himiko but I’m fi-”
Paimon’s voice broke and Himiko fixed the other two demons behind him with a glare that could probably kill a man. “YOU TWO. Clean this up right now!”
Before he could react, Himiko pulled Paimon into an empty classroom and slammed the door behind her. “Pai, what happened? Do you need to sit down?”
“Nuh-ne-no! I-I-if i suh-sit down I’ll fu-fall aslee-eep…” Paimon awkwardly hiccuped. Trying to talk through the lump in his throat was proving to be very difficult.
“Paimon… do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” Himiko’s voice was oddly gentle, almost sisterly in a way as she sat Paimon down in one of the desks in the room. “I’m here to listen.”
“Thanks Ms. Himiko… sorry…” and with that, Paimon began to explain.
———————
“BOYS!”
The scream of rage was punctuated by the slamming of the front door of the House of Lamentation and the angry clicking of heels going towards the living room. Six of the seven rulers of hell sat dead straight in their chairs, geez this little human had really whipped them good.
“Stupid human! Let go of my ear-yeeeeeeOW! Sorry! Sorry! Have mercy, tiny overlord-” Mammon was dragged into the living room by the ear and shoved onto one of the couches. She let her glare rest on each and every one of the demons before she spoke again.
“So, Asmo,” Himiko turned to Asmo with a calm smile, but the Avatar of Lust was anything but calm. “You think you’re too good to deliver your own fabric to the place where you work?”
“Uh… what are you talking about Himi?”
“Paimon! You told him to deliver your fabric to Majolish!” Himiko then turned to Mammon, who was already looking for an opportune time to bolt to the exit. “Mammon! You took his homework to copy, didn’t you!?”
“I-uh-”
“Satan!” Himiko stamped her foot and swivelled to glare at the relatively calm Avatar of Wrath. “You can’t just dump your paperwork on him like that!”
“Himiko-”
“CRAM IT!” Satan’s mouth clamped shut and he levelled an absolutely murderous glare at the human, but remained seated. “Levi! What the hell’s the matter with you!? Did anyone ever teach you that it’s polite to say THANK YOU?!”
Levi awkwardly shifted in his seat and sputtered out a barely intelligible reply, but Himiko was already turning to Beel and Belphie.
“Belphie! Beel! What the fuck were you two on during Fangol practice?!” Belphie grumpily lifted his head from his pillow and Beel mumbled out an apology. “Beel! You cannot just throw your hunger tantrums whenever you don’t have food handy, I thought you had enough common sense to realize that the kitchen wasn’t that far from the colosseum! And Belphie! Why didn’t you pack snacks for Beel like you were supposed to!?”
“Himiko why the fuck are you so upset about-”
“Shut UP.” Belphie was in the same boat as Satan in a matter of nanoseconds, the Avatar of Sloth rolled his eyes and went back to resting his head on his pillow.
“And you, Lucifer, the eldest and best of the bunch.” Himiko’s words were laced with enough poison to take down a fully grown grizzly bear as she stared down Lucifer with a glare cold enough to snuff out a fire. “I have one question: would it kill you to show some appreciation to the people who help you? A thank you? An appreciative nod? Or is your head rammed so far up your own ass you’ve forgotten basic courtesy?”
In a blink of an eye Lucifer was standing in front of Himiko. He was a good foot taller than her even in his human form, but she looked right back up at him with zero fear.
“Care to repeat that, Himiko?” Lucifer’s words were as sharp as a razor, he narrowed his eyes when Himiko didn’t even flinch. “If I were you, I’d choose your next words very carefully.”
“Or what?” Himiko asked, tilting her head slightly. “You’re going to try and kill me again?”
The room went completely still. It was so silent that they could hear Cerberus rustling around in the Underground Tomb. No one said a word as Himiko casually smoothed down her skirt. “You know what they say, third times the charm. Are you going to listen to me or are you going to explain to Diavolo why I’m a bloody smear on the wall?”
Lucifer held her gaze for a few more seconds, until he sighed and sat back down, still not breaking eye contact with the human. “What do you want, Himiko?”
“I want you all to give Paimon a week off, or, you pay him to be your actual assistant. Putting up with you boys’ crap should be a full paying job.” Himiko raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Give him a week off, live without him for a bit, and treat him nicer when he comes back. Unless of course, the seven rulers of hell can’t survive without their assistant?”
Lucifer bristled and crossed his arms. “…fine.”
———————
Sleep went by too quickly… way too quickly. Paimon rubbed his eyes and trudged through the hallway. Stupid mondays… stupid school… stupid Mammon… wait did Paimon say that out loud, because the Avatar of Greed and Lucifer himself were standing right in front of him.
“Sup pipsqueak.”
“Hello Paimon.”
Oh, Paimon must have fucked up bad somehow for the Avatar of Pride and the Avatar of Greed to have stopped him in the hallway. Great. Wonderful. Fantastic. The sweet release of death was coming. But what exactly had Paimon done? Was talking to the human exchange student a punishable offence?!
“Lord Lucifer! Lord Mammon! Uh… how can I help you?” Paimon smiled nervously, at this point, nervous was his default state, so this was his normal smile.
“Ya can help us by handin’ over your lunch mon-”
“Oh for fuck’s sake Mammon,” the signature clicking of Himiko’s heels on the stone floor alerted the three demons to her arrival before her voice did. “Stop being a douche.”
“We’re here to offer you a week off.” Lucifer ignored both Himiko and Mammon and kept his eyes fixed on Paimon. “Himiko noticed you were five seconds away from a stress induced heart attack so she campaigned for you to get some time off.”
“I-I-I’m fine, that’s very nice of you to offer but I’m coping well with my extra duties.”
Extra duties, also known as ‘nice things Paimon was doing for a group of demons he respected, which those demons then began to expect him to do all the damn time.’
“Paimon,” Himiko raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “You’re left arm is shaking.”
Paimon silently cursed his stupid arm. “Those are normal shakes!”
“Fuck dude… I don’t even like ya and I want you to take a vacation.”
“Consider it less of an offer and more of an order.” Lucifer said sternly. “Take the week off and come back refreshed. Your school responsibilities will be waived during your time off, now shoo.”
Lucifer waved his hand and strode past him down the hallway. Geez, what a charmer.
“Have fun, Paimon!” Himiko gave him a wave before gesturing Mammon to follow her, class was starting soon after all.
“Th-thank you Ms. Himiko.” Paimon mumbled and began to turn to leave, but Mammon caught the back of his school coat. Huh, a goodbye locker shove perhaps?
“Before ya leave,” Mammon cooed. “What’re ya doin’ with my human?”
“I’m not doing… anything?” Paimon said truthfully.
“Plannin’ on doing anything?”
“N-no?”
“Are ya sure?” Mammon tilted his head, his eyes began to glow dangerously. “Not planning on trying anything?”
“No sir!” Paimon began to wave his hands in an attempt to communicate some extra ‘NO’. “N-not at all! Ms. Himiko’s just a friend!”
Mammon raised an eyebrow and Paimon felt his stomach drop right to the floor. Apparently talking to the human exchange student was a death sentence. Wasn’t the point of this exchange program for demons and humans to get to know each other???
“Really now? How’d you two get to talkin’?”
“I-I uh, she um…” Paimon stuttered. “She swore me to secrecy…”
After blinking a few times in surprise, Mammon dropped Paimon right to the floor. “Alrighty then, I’ll just ask ‘er myself.”
Mammon then sauntered away like nothing happened. Geez… Paimon silently made a wish that Himiko could swallow her pride and actually admit the reason the two became friends so Paimon wouldn’t end up getting his ass handed to him by the Avatar of Greed himself. What a shit way to go…
————
Himiko gave Mammon a glare that could wither roses the moment he began to pepper her with questions about her friendship with Paimon. Geez, couldn’t a lady have some friends who didn’t want to date her? Was that too much to ask?
She let out a sigh and looked around to make sure that she and Mammon were alone in her room and that there was no one walking around in the hallway outside. Good, nobody. “Mammon, Paimon and I exchange gardening tips.”
Mammon blinked a few times and debated pinching himself to see if he was dreaming. His mean little human liked something like gardening..? That was… that was… so fuckin’ adorable! “You… you like gardening..? Really Himi?”
Himiko’s cheeks reddened with embarrassment, which really hindered the effect of her scowl. “Yes. In case you didn’t know, the plants here are very different from the plants in the human world, and I miss having a garden, so,” she gestured to the window out into the HOL’s garden where Mammon noticed quite a few new flower bushes. He had to admit, they were really pretty.
“Oh, so you two aren’t smoochin’ or anything?”
“Mammon,” Himiko smirked and fluttered her eyelashes. “Just because you’re hopelessly in love with me doesn’t mean everyone else is~.”
————
The moment Paimon stepped foot into his apartment he collapsed onto the couch like a… like a… tired person. The man hadn’t had a proper staycation in almost a thousand years, give him a break.
When he was done being a lump on the couch, he looked up at his plants. He hadn’t properly been able to look at them for a while- shit almost all of them were dead. Perhaps Paimon should have invested in a nice garden of cacti instead of fussy water-needing plants. Oh well, he had things to worry about other than his failing garden. His apartment was also a complete mess. After defeating his chronic anxiety by going on a massive cleaning spree, Paimon decided that he had a hankering for some sweets. He ordered in from Madame Scream’s and collapsed back onto the couch.
His pastries arrived and he was fully prepared to dig in until- A knock on the door startled Paimon from his stress free thoughts and the demon rushed to answer the door. The familiar faces of Mephistopheles and Satan awaited him.
“Hey buddy!” Mephisto gave Paimon a friendly (and a little too hard) thwack on the shoulder and walked into the apartment. “I smell foooooooood!”
“Paimon,” Satan flashed a grin and a friendly nod.
“L-lord Satan,” Paimon nodded dumbly, after registering what he was seeing, he stepped aside and let Satan into the apartment, thank fuck he had cleaned it. “What are… what are you doing here? Do you need me to do anything?”
“No, no,” Satan waved Paimon off. “I heard you and Mephisto were trying to solve a mystery and I thought I’d offer my help.”
“Oh! Thank you!” Paimon sputtered, he then turned to his pie, that Mephisto was busily shovelling into his mouth. Mephistopheles gave Paimon and Satan a thumbs up.
“S’great Pai!” Mephisto laughed at his own pun.
The mystery Satan was referring to was the mystery of the vandalized instruments. Paimon had asked Mephisto to help look into it, he was the former president of the newspaper club and had a penchant for getting into trouble and finding people responsible for trouble. It was a last resort kind of thing, really, Mephisto and Paimon never really spoke outside of their few shared classes.
“O-okay, did you guys find anything out..? Do you need me to answer any questions?” Paimon asked, sitting down at his tiny dining table across from Mephisto and Satan.
“We didn’t find much out today, suspect, but we do have some things we’d like to know.” Mephisto pointed a pie-filling covered finger at Paimon. “How do we know it wasn’t you who vandalized the instruments?! I can see the headline now! ‘Band president vandalizes instruments, Mephistopheles hailed as hero and reinstated as newspaper club president!’ I love it!”
“E-eh?!” Paimon jumped backwards in his seat, nearly knocking himself right onto the floor. “Wh-what?! Why would I do that?”
“That’s what I wanna know!” Mephisto slammed his sticky hands down on the table and leaned across to look Paimon right in the face. “Why’d you do it?!”
Satan grabbed the back of Mephisto’s shirt and yanked him back into his seat and gave Paimon an apologetic look. Ah, good cop bad cop, that was the game they were playing.
“Paimon, do you have an alibi?” Satan asked, his tone measured. Paimon meekly nodded.
“Y-yes, technically my alibi is you and your brothers, sir… I was busy all day, and that morning was the last time I saw the instruments before they were wrecked.”
“Mmm, just as I thought,” Satan nodded. “Paimon, does the band have any enemies you know of?”
“N-no,” Paimon said on reflex. “Wait! Yeah… um… a few demons… I have a list…”
He quickly began to write out a list of names. For someone who seemed so meek and pathetic, he had made a lot of enemies… well, less a list of enemies and more of a list of people who found it fun to bother him.
Satan raised an eyebrow as he looked over the list. “Paimon, how?”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“How does a high ranking demon like yourself have this many petty enemies that you haven’t dealt with yet?”
A shrug was all Paimon could give. He preferred not to hurt people due to petty grudges, which was not a very good trait for a demon to have. No wonder no one respected him…
Satan huffed and nodded to Mephisto. “Well, we’ll look into these leads. Try and have a nice week off, Paimon.”
—————
Day One:
Lucifer needed his coffee, he sat up in his chair and leaned over to look at the clock, 3:30 pm. Paimon should be- ah, right, Lucifer gave him the week off. No matter, he rose from his seat and prepared to get his own coffee. He was a strong independent demon who didn’t need an assistant thank you very much.
When he walked into the kitchen, he nearly choked on air when he saw the technological monstrosity that was the new coffee machine. It had to be new, he had gone into the kitchen all the time to make his own coffee, hadn’t he? No, Paimon had taken care of that for the past how many years..? Geez, when was the last time Lucifer actually had to walk into RAD’s kitchen?
It’s just a coffee machine, Lucifer reasoned, he’d be able to figure it out in no time.
Riddle him this, why did this infernal thing have so many buttons?! The machine let out an unhappy groan and Lucifer was tempted to repeat the sound himself. Stupid coffee machine… back in his day coffee was made with magic, sure it exhausted the person more but… that’s what the coffee’s for!
After about twenty minutes of nearly fruitless labour, Lucifer finally figured out how to get the machine to make coffee to his tastes. He’d throw the machine at the wall if it made him decaf…
Lucifer (eventually) returned to his office and his massive stack of paperwork with his hot mug of caffeinated salvation and sat back down at his desk. His mind began to wander back to the conversation he had with Himiko the day prior.
Had he forgotten basic courtesy? He had known Paimon longer than Himiko could probably comprehend, was Paimon always this willing to get walked over? Lucifer wracked his brain trying to find the answer. He grimaced when he thought back to his time as an angel, but even then, Paimon was the same. A constantly frazzled Dominion who fell from heaven only to end up a frazzled and even more anxious demon.
It was so odd, when they all first became demons, Paimon was one of the large amount who decided that the best way to figure out their new demonic identities was to cause complete and utter chaos. It was an embarrassment, really, but Diavolo knew that no one could get that number of newly turned demons under control without ripping apart the Devildom, so he sent them up to the human world. It was devastating for the humans, but Diavolo knew it was necessary to save his kingdom. While up in the human world, everyone’s powers were tested and the pecking order if you will, was established. Paimon was right near the top.
One of the most powerful demons in the Devildom, one that watched kingdoms burn for his amusement just mere days after falling from grace, had become nothing more than an assistant. When and why? That was what Lucifer was wondering.
Tsk, he didn’t have time to wonder about the motivations of his little fake assistant, he had way too much work to do. He downed his coffee and stared down his paperwork. He was going to do this himself, or collapse from exhaustion trying.
——————
Day 2:
Mammon mindlessly gnawed on his pencil as he stared down at his homework. He was stuck in the library at RAD and couldn’t go home until his stupid work was done. His human had gone off with Asmo to go shopping… dummy… not that he cared or anything…
He needed help, but the great Mammon didn’t grovel! Wait, yes he did. But he usually didn’t have to when it came to his homework. That little nerd Paimon was always down to let Mammon copy his homework. Sure, if Lucifer even dared to ask if Paimon had let Mammon copy his homework, the purple haired demon would sing like a canary. Stupid little snitch….
…Mammon could have really used that little snitch right then…
He searched his mind for anything to daydream about to distract himself from the lame homework. Ah! His human! He liked to think about his human. Her cute little smile… her deep dark eyes… her soft hair that tumbled over her shoulders… her dumb but still somehow cute little headband…
Not that he liked her or anything! Uggggghhhh… this was going to be a long ass study session…
——————
How did things get this way..?
Paimon was once again lying face down on his couch, apparently cleaning only temporarily staved off his mental illness. At least he was spiralling in a clean house…
His concert hall got completely wrecked and his status wasn’t a deterrent to the stupid vandals… Paimon could and had crushed kingdoms beneath his heel! He’d sown discord across entire countries! Humans and demons alike begged to have the privilege of his favour, and now, nothing. Paimon hugged his knees to his chest and tried to ignore the feeling of his glasses digging into the side of his face. The tightness in his chest and gut was indicative of one thing:
Guilt.
Paimon was guilty. After being called back to the Devildom and seeing what he had done to the human world, he felt the worst most roiling and disgusting sense of guilt. He was completely alone, if any other demon that went up there and did the things he did felt guilty about any of it, they were amazing at hiding it. He had been an angel just a few days before he went completely ballistic…
Was his behaviour for the past thousand years some sort of bullshit atonement for him? Tsk, he didn’t have time to give himself a therapy session. He needed to go to sleep. He earned it, after all.
——————
Day 3:
Levi absentmindedly tapped his phone screen, the colourful gacha game was completely failing to fully entrap his attention. Ugh… just get the daily rewards and log out…
A crowd of chattering students walked into the formerly empty classroom to sit and eat lunch. Stupid normies… whenever he had to show up to school he at least had the ability to eat lunch by himself.
It was Paimon’s doing, obviously. After hearing that Levi was having a tough time being at RAD, the demon took it upon himself to make Levi more comfortable. After the first few times, Levi enlisted him as his personal crowd disperser.
He often wandered the halls during lunch making sure everything was alright like the world’s most anxious hall monitor. Whenever Levi happened to notice the sound of Paimon’s feet pattering against the stone floor, it was usually followed by Paimon’s meek little voice telling some wandering students that the classroom was occupied.
Tsk, dumb normie on his dumb vacation. Levi huffed and slid his headphones on to drown out the sound of the other students talking.
Paimon needed to hurry up and get baaaaaaaaaaack…
—————
Day Four:
“Alright, the scene of the crime…” Satan placed his hands on his hips and looked around the concert hall. The Avatar of Wrath had let Mephisto loose on Phenex and Eurynome for questioning. Satan now had the crime scene all to himself for investigating.
Most of the instruments were dented and ruined, hm… maybe he should have viewed the crime scene earlier when it was fresher. Man… all the fictional detectives Satan knew of would be so disappointed in him. Not perturbed, Satan began to peruse the room and take it all in. Well, until Asmo broke down the door shouting his name.
“Saaaaaaaataaaaaaaan!”
“I’m right here, Asmo, you don’t need to yell.” Satan turned and gave him an annoyed look. Asmo only beamed and clapped his hands together.
“No need to be so snide, Satan dear, I’m gracing you with my presence!” Asmo cartoonishly pouted as he almost skipped towards Satan. He looped his arm around Satan’s and began to try and pull him out of the room. “Come on! We’re going to have a self care day!”
“No, no we’re not.” Satan gently removed Asmo’s arm from his and shook his head. “I’m trying to solve a mystery, here.”
“Really?” Asmo raised an eyebrow and absentmindedly twirled a lock of hair with his finger. “Why? Isn’t this Paimon’s business?”
“Yeah, but Paimon asked Mephisto for help and Mephisto asked me, so here I am.” Seeing that Asmo wasn’t convinced, Satan dragged a hand down his face and prayed to the Demon King that his gossip of a brother could keep a secret. “There are no exams to study for, my favourite detective book series just ended, and Lucifer just rehomed a cat I took in. I have nothing else to do and I’m bored as hell.”
Asmo wrinkled his nose, then shrugged and nodded. “Eh, legit enough for me. I’ll help too!”
The two somewhat carefully rummaged around the room, searching for literally any kind of evidence that wasn’t destroyed in the fight between Phenex and Eury.
“Tada~ evidence!” So quickly? Satan had to stop himself from sighing as he turned to face his brother. Asmo proudly presented what looked like a neon orange fake nail, Satan crossed his arms and gave his brother a deadpan stare.
“Groundbreaking.”
“Satan, for a detective you can be really dense sometimes, I swear.” Asmo huffed and fixed his hair. “People who play musical instruments keep their nails short. Fake nails like these are expensive and are stuck onto the actual nail and sealed with magic. This obviously came off by accident, and it doesn’t belong to some band kid.”
“It belongs to the culprit then…” Satan murmured, digging through his pockets for his list of suspects. “Asmo, tell me, does anyone on this list have these kinds of nails?”
Asmo scanned the list of suspects and hummed to himself before snapping his fingers and grinning. “Only Amii would wear something as garish as that.”
Ah, one of RAD’s resident assholes. Amii and their partner in crime, Murmur, were frequent visitors to the detention hall due to their rampant idiocy. Their combined ability to learn absolutely nothing from their past punishments rivalled Mammon’s, and that was saying something because Mammon had gotten strung up at least once a month for the past two thousand years.
So, the little bastards had taken to bothering Paimon recently… perfect! Mystery solved!
Satan scratched his chin, then grinned. “I think we’ve found our culprits. Thanks Asmo, you were a real help.”
“It’s no problem Satan, really, you can repay me by keeping me company while we both have a nice spa day.”
————
Spending time rethinking one’s entire life and trying to cultivate a garden really sapped up Paimon’s energy. He wasn’t lying down on the couch this time though, his new breakdown spot was his kitchen table.
As he expressed to himself multiple times, he was sick and tired of being walked over, he may have hated being a demon, but he still was one. A damn high ranking one at that! He wasn’t some midranking Dominion anymore! He should be treated with basic respect!
The sudden ringing of his phone jolted him from his mini identity/respect crisis and he fumbled to pick it up.
“H-hello?”
“Paimon, you’ll be pleased to know that I have found the culprits.” Satan’s voice rang out from the phone and Paimon let out a sigh of relief. “Though, Amii and Murmur aren’t on school property at the moment.”
“Y-yeah…” Paimon was too emotionally drained to act surprised. “I think they’re on an overnight trip or something… they’ll be back on Monday.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I uh… I checked the budget documents you sent out at the start of the year to make sure no one was skimming funds again…” Paimon pursed his lips and sighed. “Remember what happened last year? I wanted to make sure Mammon didn’t cause you any extra trouble.”
“Ah, right.” Satan said. “Thanks for that.”
A genuine thank you! Paimon’s eyes practically sparkled as he nodded enthusiastically before realizing Satan couldn’t technically see him. “Y-you’re welcome!”
“So, I know it’s your club but this is also RAD property and I assume you know how much musical instruments are to replace…”
“Yeah… rest assured, I’ll deal with those two.” Paimon mumbled.
“Hm, I’d like to be there, if you don’t mind.”
You see, that was code for ‘I’m going to watch you to make sure you’re not just going to give them a lecture on not hurting other people’s feelings.’
“It’s no problem, Lord Satan.” Paimon said. “Come by if you have the time after school. I’ll put on a show.”
——————
Day Five:
Asmo was practically skipping through RAD’s hallways like he was following the yellow brick road or something. What had him so chipper? Some of his friends in the sewing club had agreed to help him sew some of his clothing designs and make them legitimately wearable! EEEEEEEE! He was so excited! He threw open the doors to the club and everyone… did not shower him with affection and praise. Pardon but what was this bullshit?
“Sorry Lord Asmodeus… but we’re in a bit of a crisis. Some of the sewing machines broke and we don’t have any way to replace them right now.” One of the club members said.
“How’d this even happen?!” Asmo huffed. “The sewing club never shuts down! There was a miniature hurricane going through RAD about a century ago and literally none of you skipped your club meeting!”
“W-well, normally we’d call Paimon to order some new machines or call a repairman because the student council usually gets really busy around this time of day…”
“UGH.” Asmo threw his head back and dramatically groaned. “Are there any machines in here that actually work?”
“Y-yes, about three of them…”
The demon pointed to three in the back and Asmo stomped over to begin sewing the one outfit he could do. He had bought nice fabrics and everything…
Asmo pulled out his sketch of the design, he smiled and set it down next to the sewing machine. He remembered how to use these… right?
‘Paimon usually fixes this’ ‘Paimon deserves a break’ ‘Paimon Paimon Paimon’ Asmo had to stop himself from openly rolling his eyes whenever that little pipsqueak’s name was mentioned. The Avatar of Lust had the stinking suspicion that the bespectacled demon wasn’t particularly fond of him. Everyone loved Asmo, that was a known fact, but Paimon had a funny way of showing it.
He never went exactly out of his way to help Asmo with anything. If Asmo requested help, it was always met with a cold ‘yes lord Asmodeus’. Hmph, Asmo had to hold back a bit of a smirk as a thought crept into his mind.
Paimon’s behaviour was truly a testament to how hard the Avatar of Lust is to get over~.
—————
Ready? Okay! The first step to becoming a respected demon was fixing the way he was perceived by others, and people mainly made their judgements on outward appearances.
Paimon was going to fix his self image! No more dorky glasses! Wait… he couldn’t see… damn. Okay, get contact lenses instead! Aaaaaaand he was out of those. New plan, the dorky glasses were staying on for the time being!
Hmmm… maybe he should flatten down his weird little crescent moon shaped Ahoge… Yeah, not going to happen. His hair kept flying right back up no matter how much hairspray he used.
Looking into his bathroom mirror, Paimon wondered how long it had been since he actually fussed over his appearance. 400… 500 years? Geez, that lined up awfully well with the last time he had been on a date… and that ‘relationship’ did not end well.
Oh well, he looked… well he looked like himself. That was fine. He just needed to fix his posture really quick-
The audible crack of Paimon’s spine may have scared his neighbour’s cat and caused the neighbour on his other side to wonder why their hellhound started barking, but at least he was standing up straight again. It was nice not to be slouched forward like the world’s most nervous Igor. Paimon stretched and shook out his shoulders. Huh, he forgot he was supposed to be 5’7 and not 5’5. He should have done this a while ago.
——————
The Weekend:
School was out for the next two days but the student council was still in the stupid building. Lord Diavolo had decided that the school year needed yet another festival week and it was up to the student council to budget, manage, and plan this entire thing, and to top off the sundae of stress, two of their members were missing.
Beel and Belphie were on the complete opposite side of the school, and their dear little human was having a hell of a time dragging them to the meeting. This was Himiko’s reward for not being an asshole.
“Beel, for the love of all things good in the world, I’m sure there will be snacks provided at the meeting, now get your face out of the fridge.” The long suffering Himiko practically begged. The attic nap club were stuck in the cafeteria despite the borderline desperate efforts of the human.
“You can’t know that for sure…” Beel sighed mournfully before he took another bite of whatever eldritch horror those demons called food. “Paimon or Barbatos would usually bring the snacks and neither of them are here…”
Foolishly hoping that the younger of the two twins would be able to do something, Himiko turned to Belphie, who was passed out with his head down on a cafeteria table.
“Belphie, wake up and help me get Beel out of the cafeteria.”
“No. I am asleep.”
“Belphie I swear-”
“Sh. Sleep.”
Beel usually carried Belphie’s unconscious ass to those stupid meetings because Beel knew for a fact there’d be snacks there, and now neither twin would move from the cafeteria. Great. Time to use the pacts Himiko worked so hard to obtain.
This. This was what it was like to be the one master to rule them all. It was glorified babysitting.
“BOTH OF YOU HAUL ASS TO THE ASSEMBLY HALL RIGHT NOW. BRING THE FOOD IN THE FRIDGE WITH YOU.”
Monday couldn’t come soon enough…
——————
To be concluded!
Author’s Note: Not too satisfied with this one, but honestly when am I ever satisfied with my own writing? Pai will go politely apeshit next part I promise
TFW you’re royalty and the local brown-noser goes on vacation and you now have no one to boss around :/ totally relatable right guys?
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sunnysviolin · 3 years
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ok idk if youve been asked this before but i honestly think post-cannon sunny would try to pick back up playing the violin as a hobby. I don’t think he could bring himself to any time soon but eventually he would be able to start to play and I think he would make a hobby out of it because he genuinely loved to play pre-cannon. this could also tie into the crow omori hc because he would also start collecting sheet music. idk if sunny and hero would ever play together with hero on the piano or if he would ever perform or just keep it as a hobby and i wanna hear your thoughts
I have not been asked this before!! I’m loving it though, and this hits me in my favorite spot which is big brother Hero little brother Sunny...So while I also have a headcanon that Sunny could never really play violin again...the violinist and the writer in me cannot ignore this idea 👀👀👀 SO
Sunny goes back to high school in the fall in his new town. It’s overwhelming, and he starts only going half days with tutoring in the off. hours (Look me in the eyes and tell me this boy doesn’t have an IEP...do that)
His mom is the one who makes his schedule though, and his mom is trying her best to help him but in all the wrong ways. 
So when they ask what electives Sunny might enjoy she tells them he draws and plays the violin...so they put him in Orchestra. 
Sunny has a minor anxiety attack when he sees his schedule, and he doesn’t want to go. He might have made up with his friends, and he may have told the truth. He fixed his broken violin, but no this is too much. He skips Orchestra and hides in one of the bathrooms trying to breathe. 
He continues to skip Orchestra while diligently attending every other class. His orchestra teacher has never even met him, and the man is worried (tm). 
He had been given a one page summary of Sunny’s IEP just like all the rest of his teachers, and this avoidant behavior is a bad sign. He decides to ask Sunny’s resource room teacher to hold Sunny back for a second so he can at least talk to the boy
Sunny looks just how his teacher expects him to look- a tired pale boy who is too skinny, too small, and far too scared of him. 
Sunny is nearing freaked out, forgetting all of the breathing exercises he once knew and just trying to keep himself from completely losing it. His orchestra teacher keeps a good distance, lowering himself into sitting on one of the desks and letting Sunny settle a bit before speaking. It’s just the two of them left in the room, and he asked one of the other music teachers to run the beginning of class for him
His orchestra teacher listens as Sunny explains that he didn’t actually want to play the violin (...doesn’t wanna be near a violin at all tbh...) but his mother forced him to sign up. 
They reach a medium ground. Sunny will stop skipping orchestra, and his teacher will make him his assistant instead of having him play. Sunny helps to organize sheet music, tune instruments, rosin bows, and set up before class. He can sit and listen to the orchestra but he doesn’t have to participate unless he wants to. 
The exposure therapy of being surrounded by others playing helps to ease Sunny into confronting his desire to play again. He eventually shyly tells his teacher that he would like to relearn, but he hasn’t played in almost five years. 
Sunny’s last violin tutor had been a harsh old woman who stopped him in the middle of playing and screeched at him to correct his fingering and practice more. His new teacher starts him off slowly, and in private lessons once a week during lunch. Sunny relearns not only how to play, but how to love playing as well. He collects the sheet music that his teacher carefully writes out for him the same way he used to collect Mari’s. His new teacher writes his notes different to his sisters, but they still feel special and sacred. 
He eventually joins the orchestra for real and quickly rises up to be first chair of the violins. There are some days where he feels like his violin is too heavy to pick up, but a gentle smile from his teacher and the joy of his new friends in his orchestra helps him to overcome that guilt. 
He doesn’t tell his old friends that he’s started playing again. He isn’t even sure how to bring that up to them. 
Once again his mom is the one to thank. 
Sunny has his first concert on a freezing dark night in December. He had not wanted to play in it, nearly had another melt down, but his teacher had encouraged him to do it. he had eventually shared some of the bare bones of the story with his teacher- He had a sister he played with, she died the night of their recital. 
A recital was different than a concert, there was no solo, no single light on him. If he messed up his notes, they would not be heard by all, but still Sunny felt anxiety running up and down his spine. As he sat backstage he nervously fingered the hairs of his bow, letting a plume of rosin fly out into the air. The rest of his friends sensed his nervous energy, but they just assumed it was Sunny being Sunny. 
As he walked out into the too bright lights of the stage, Sunny’s mouth dried up and his mind went blank. He couldn’t remember his notes, he couldn’t even remember the right way to hold a violin. He shook hands with his teacher as was the custom of the first and the conductor. 
He sat woodenly, looking out at a sea of faces as his teacher stepped up to the mic to address the crowd of friends and family. His mom had said she would be there, but he couldn’t see her.
Then he spotted a familiar face. Actually, he spotted four. 
Sitting next to his mom was Hero, Kel, Aubrey, and Basil. Hero was wearing a neat jacket and dressy shirt, his hair styled in his usual way. He gave Sunny a grin when he saw Sunny noticing them. Kel sat next to his brother, waving furiously and beaming. Aubrey was elbowing Kel, rolling her eyes. Lastly was Basil, looking nervous as usual, but still there. In his hands was a dark blue pot containing a cluster of delicate white tulips. 
They had all come to see him. They were there to hear him play.
Deep emotion cut through the panic, and as his teacher ended his speech, Sunny closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. Calm Down. Focus. Persist
Sunny raised up his instrument and began to play. 
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