#unless it’s supposed to have mold which like carry on then

[weezeryuri]

[kisses you tenderly on the lips while holding you like my lover] don’t eat any food with mold on it even if you cut the moldy part off ok?

#unless it’s supposed to have mold which like carry on then

[thesugarhole]

Barring obvious potential triggers, would you recommend Human Centipede? Like just as a movie to watch? (I have never seen it)

table of contents: do i recommend it? / triggers / my opinion / red flags analysis (for funsies)

warnings for: possible spoilers out of context, unsanitary/surgical discussions, long post

do i recommend it?

alright so, before i begin i wanna say im not the type to have definitive answers to recommend / dont recommend unless its something i Extremely Liked (darkest dungeon for example). so i would recommend it in a " idk tbh lol" way. so this is all my personal, unrevised by Movie / Horror Professionals, opinions, take with a grain of salt and whatnot. im also trying to write this as objectively as possible so at worst its out of context spoilers, in case you or anyone else decide to see it.

triggers

im not sure what 'potential obvious triggers' would be in this case. i mean that sincerely this time, since im always poking fun at dnis etc and i dont want to come across as sarcastic or anything! i think it suffers from the saw/texas chainsaw effect where the first movie is very tame but people over represent its contents to the point where it gains a, imo unjust, reputation as viscerally disgusting and unwatchable. tangentially, in both saw and human centipedes case, its a self fulfilling prophecy of sorts because the sequels DO end up fitting the mold of these warnings. i know that tcm 2 is more of a comedy/horror, and then theres like 6 alternate universes just to retell the story, that i dont think quite fit the "warnings actual fit the sequels" curse, but still i felt like mentioning it, and this is because these type of movies play a lot, a LOT on how fertile your imagination is. texas chainsaw massacre (1974), saw (2004) and human centipede (2009) show very little gore, but the implications of whats going on and how it would traumatize someone physically, mentally and emotionally when you think about them later is what carries the legacy, imo. maybe human centipede got a bigger punishment in fake negative hype because on top of the central body horror theme, it also adds scat and torture.

so in terms of triggers, gore wise it would be: some blood, some cutting (surgically and self harm), and an EEK! situation of a character running away and the catheter pulling on their arm, ripping vertically across. These are maybe a 2 second scene at its longest, as the camera doesnt linger on them. a shoot out near the end as well, filling a pool with blood. there is a photo of 3 dogs lined up in front of each other meant to imply they were a doggy centipede as well, but out of context its just. dogs calmly sniffing the front ones butt lol. no animal cruelty and/or death on screen that i can remember. there is harassment, there is kidnapping, there is drugging, there is murder, there is racism, there is explaining of a surgical procedure and there is treating the resulting centipede as a pet from a cruel and abusive owner (mainly beatings, i think most also off screen). most of the surgery affected areas are covered in bandages the entire movie, exception being the glasglow smile practical effects, of which are put to use once to display infection. add squeezing some pus to the list, i know some people are Very grossed out by it.

i think thats the bulk of what is portrayed that might put people on edge the most, and anything else might be escaping into more abstract fears -like clowns for example-; no clowns in the movie but its not something youre supposed to be afraid of is what i mean. as i said before, the big threat of the movie is that it gets your imagination going on both the horrors people are capable of (unsurprisingly, doctor heiter was in part inspired by josef mengele, even sharing the first name) and what it would be like to find oneself part of the centipede. for example, you dont actually see in detail one shitting into each others mouth and the other swallowing, just all actors squirming and crying in unease as the doctor realizes its happening and cheers it on. Extra note: 2/3 of the centipede is almost always crying. Its apt that they do obviously, but quite uncomfortable to listen to for extended periods of time. And you will, if you watch the movie.

(wikipedia backing me up on this, its the >Implying thats the real terrifier here)

i dont remember where i read this but i would like to bring to attention the tenacity and endurance of the three actors that played the centipede, as it was said that some other actors that got the role soon gave up upon finding out theyd have to have their face so close to someone elses ass, and vice versa. its all practical effects and THERE IS a small, obvious distance between the elements, like theyre not straight up tossing the salad in there, but still. rough position if youre not shooting a strange sex scene. finally, and i know all you never-seen-human-centipede enjoyers have been waiting for this one: no sexual violence of any kind. really! I was surprised as well, since these types of topics also love to pull on rape and whatnot, but the first movie is fully lacking in those types of themes. The sequels have them. Whether its unfortunate or not I wouldnt know, as I don’t intend on watching them, but more on that later (%).

my opinion

i was about 15 when i finally decided to watch it and i gotta say, i was disappointed because i had braced myself for the worst, didnt quite receive it, and was left with a lot of tension. like honest to god, the way people describe this as almost a snuff film when its just. a boring movie. it was a bit insulting to me back then lmao. i also didnt watch it with subtitles, as its marketed to an english audience; back then id argue about the guy not really needing to speak in english all the time since hes in his homeland but, while the doctor doesnt care for them as humans, he cared for them as pets, so it makes Some sense to have at least 2/3 of the centipede understand what hes saying. however with the amount of non english dialogue in it its safer to consider it a straight trilingual between german, japanese and english. if you do watch it TRY to find subtitles for ALL THREE. dieter laser (the actor that played the doctor) mumbles a good amount and it can be hard to perceive. anyway that was my opinion then and it stayed like that for a bit: 'boring movie everyone exaggerates'. it shifted positively when i decided to hear dead meats podcast on it, aka chelsea vehemently defending it with a :grimace: james accompanying her. when the red flags song first came out i thought it was extra hilarious because in some way this probably paralleled when she first told him "human centipede, not ironically" (iirc her favorite horror movie is american psycho but I don’t care enough about them to have this memorized) i havent rewatched what was said in the podcast before writing all this because i didnt want my own thoughts to be re-influenced just yet; still, it will be linked at the end regardless, since it changed my viewpoint on it when they dropped it. at this time, my opinion was "it wasnt that good, but it wasnt that bad either… was it?"

so i re watched it maybe a week after getting this ask (editors note: due to personal tragedies it has since been two more weeks) just for you! and i uhhh. ended up liking it a lot more this time around, now that i also know a little bit more about movie making. unfortunately, i made the damn fucking mistake of watching it with no subtitles again sdajhdfk. it feels strange that i understood the japanese better than the german this time around. german, on a technicality has more similar words to my native, BUT, being a fan of j music for as long as i have, and the japanese dialogue being very simple stuff like 'i have to shit' 'whats going on' 'fuck you' I occasionally grasped some dialogue teehee. i didnt understand enough to make a difference really, but still felt like pointing it out. also, despite not having seen it with subs both times, i remember back then looking it up later what was said so i +- know the context of each scene, the one I remember less being the conversation between the detectives and the doctor. still, its something i have to rectify eventually, even if i just find clips of the non english scenes and watch them.

i think i found it boring back then because its a slow movie, with just one story going on the entire time. they take some time to introduce you to the american tourists, but im not sure it makes a difference in establishing emotional connection since they suck ass (sorry) for most of the time theyre not a centipede. definitely not enough for someone to want to see them get punished like that either, but ehh. Its a 'i got no dogs in this race' situation, unless youre a stan of the doctor (which ive since learned a lot of people are (source: bort); its not my type of character is all.

im not sure how to best explain this but theres a lot of cinematic shots. if youre someone who likes movies as works of art, or understands and analyzes the meaning of the slow scenes, angles, whats being shown etc i think this movie is worth the watch, for sure. i think the sound design is also phenomenal; music is used to a bare minimum, and tense/action scenes dont get as much of a noise as you come to expect, exacerbating their vibes by like 200%. its straight up just silence sometimes, as you would expect if that was happening irl, its great. for the imagined horror i mean. its also great for the cinematography i think. Theres a scene that stood out to me of one of the members running, hiding from and then yelling at the doctor, that stood out to me by having most of it be ambient noise only.

That said, there are some critiques to be had, mainly on the creation aspect. The doctor had an accomplished career, so youd think the procedure would be more thought out than just “german doctor sews three people ass to mouth (cool!)”.

Ill try not to enter too much of spoiler territory here, but just in case if you watch it skip this LIST then come back idk:

its an intense cut and suture process of different materials between randomly selected people with no knowledge of their medical history, so its already a recipe for things to go wrong. The doctor seemed little worried about missing people being investigated, so he could have definitely looked a bit more into them before jumping right to the surgery, the movies pace would have certainly allowed it.

The surgery itself is implied to have been a day, and the recovery maybe two? Before he forces them on their knees and starts moving them about. I highly doubt the cut on their knees would permit this without at least a month of recovery. And a month is being generous. Youre not given a strict spongebob ‘a few moments later’ screen though, so while it could be argued ‘who knows how long actually passed!’ the nature of the surgery simply doesn’t allow it. Additionally, part of the process implies removing teeth, which immediately tells you this should be something phased. Like I dunno, im not a doctor but immediately connecting bleeding gums to a fecal exit doesn’t sound like a solid plan. Maybe he cauterized them? Youre not shown these things.

Ignoring the obvious -people cannot survive on just eating poop*- the removal of teeth makes sense on the sewing, since theres minimal chance to move the jaw on those conditions. It makes no sense anywhere else: if you cant chew it, you risk choking on it. other factors like coughing or vomiting have also not been accounted for.

there is never a single mention of urine in this process, which I found strange after the fact because if its left untouched, any female parts would just be painting the following sequence yellow, but theres also the fact that humans cant survive without water. It would be immensely punitive to figure out the surgery to include this, especially with urethra placements being different on male/female, but maybe worth it for the surgeon in-lore acclaims of fame if they could figure it out. Within the plot, the doctor would have certainly had the time anyway.

*i noticed next to their cage that they have an iv drop, which I think is meant to imply that the doctor wouldnt be THAT stupid and is giving the back parts the necessary nutrients to stay alive until inevitable eat-only-shit complications arise.

A lesser critique that if acknowledged would result in “but then we wouldnt have a movie would we?”, therefore not that relevant, is that katsuro should have double tapped. If you consider the neck bite a double tap, a triple tap then. Quadruple tap even like fuck man id be in there stabbing until I had human soup lmao

all that said, its a good movie. Not a bad movie by miles, but not a tour de force either. But I will say, if youre not watching it for the human centipede itself- how it came to be, how to create it, how it works, how it succeeds, how it survives, how it fails, how it ends- youre not getting anything out of the movie. Again, there is no b plot to it, no secret twist. It might be worth analyzing its movie quality (not just plot but also camera shots, characters, scenery, effects, etc) on top of that, but you have to be aware thats all there is.

(%) More on that now: I did not watch the sequels, but I don’t intend to and from the summary alone wouldnt recommend it. I already saw the human centipede once, there is little innovation that can be done here (sewing even more people to it is barely innovating in my eyes, its just stupider). Theres the added bonus/punishment of having all the sexual/gross out/possible graphical gore? schlock people warn about the first one, which would be something id be interested as a teen, not so much now. Even thinking about watching them feels like a drag, id rather do something else.

Red flags analysis:

now for something fun, since I know I got this ask because I kept talking about it lol

"the best movie of all, a masterpiece of art": we shouldnt be getting into the debate of the best movie of all right now. a masterpiece is debatable, as the movie itself is not that far removed from the art form that it shouldnt be at least considered.

“I think im gonna get murdered tonight”: youre not.

“the costume design was a highlight”: I mean, I guess? Its average clothes for the average person for the year it was shot in. the glasgow smile suture effects and the doctors lab coats (along with the fucking. aviators glasses) deserve a positive mention as they feel iconic of the movie… so yea you know what no ‘I guess’. I no longer guess. I agree.

“I like it for the plot (...) german doctor sews three people ass to mouth”: this is part of plot, not The plot. Its the catch of the movie that makes you curious about it, but I feel like the movie focuses more on the “ok, how? and then what?” to that summary than it does on the man sewing the people itself.

“please god save me”: coward.

“I think thats a red flag”: maybe.

“I don’t want to get stabbed”: you wont.

“human centipede is a tour de force”: already gave my thoughts on it, but respectfully disagree.

“im gonna be the main course”: 🤔...

“I admire the narrative of character growth”: see, this line here makes me think tom cardy/montaigne havent actually seen the movie (or if they have, dismissed it for the sake of having a good song which is absolutely fine by me, don’t get this analysis wrong). I will disclaimer that, for the doctor, it might be hidden in the german discussion with him and the detectives (but given the body language I doubt hes grown/learned anything from it) and in that case yea I missed it, but outside the centipede working together whenever possible to escape and the front going on a speech about “this happened to me because I was a bad person” theres absolutely no character growth. Its an experience they all go through and cannot recover from, much less grow from it.

Opposite of this, id like to think galoogamelady (the animator) has seen the movie, as getting reference shots of the indoor pool/wall tiles as well as dieter lasers face (to a lesser extent; write his name, he shows up) can be tricky with just google images and random ass youtube clips. I especially like that the eyebrows came out the exact same as how he had them in the movie, lol

“is this because your date is a freak” not necessarily the case (and the crowd goes ‘shes not gonna fuck you, tumblr user thesugarhole’ djkhgfhdsghskjd)

“only if the wedding is themed (…) human centipede” I wouldnt let my wedding be human centipede themed not gonna lie. Its gonna be saw themed. get in da bathroom lmao

“that way we can save on the catering bill” the implication here being all your guests get human centipeded, all your money is going to the surgery tools and prep.

“only one mouth to feed” of course, in cutting corners you could just shove some sort of weird tube between ass and mouth…

“I can finally sew a mouth to a butt” hate it when hes right about the red flag 🙄 sad! Oh well there will be other women with red hair that will defend human centipedes honor (cough) ⬇️

(^ as I said previously I didn’t rewatch this so my current opinion couldn’t get influenced by it, so I don’t remember what she said. Might rewatch after posting)

Pucker up!

#wrote half of this in notes half of it in libre word so my capitalizations are all wacky #haters will say they love a girlie getting autistic with it untl they actually see it (me and my text) #iamphibolous #the human centipede #cuties replying #sugar.txt #unsanitary #human centipede #askblog #red flags #watching the human centipede

[forbiddcnsirvn]

DOES THE MUSE(S) BELIEVE IN DIVINE INTERVENTION AND/OR KARMA OR DO THEY BELIEVE IN TAKING REVENGE INTO THEIR OWN HANDS?

She has retaliated against those talons that had molded her, and it brought nothing but absolute peril to the one she was supposed to protect. 

When she’s all nestled with those half-pints she has, somehow, managed to deliver so closely, she now lets thoughts shrill like a twist of waterfall and thinks it’s time she just let it go. Tranquility isn’t necessarily its prominent alibi, for one molded with bristling sinews knows that chaos is forever meant to pursue the desolated boulevard without ease and without an end, but it’s less troublesome to not chase the rims of the claw marks any longer. It was a process so to speak, as riot used to impulsively bathe her bones, and if it were not for a certain one’s strained reprimanding there would have been a manhunt perched in every corner. It’s easy as flicking her wrist to set up a payback — but what good does it do when all she can see is its root continuing to furcate, because it’s just what Lieseil does, like fucking mold or stains on unhinged doors, and she knows now that her waste of energy will eventually end up being her downfall?

The marionette has severed off its strings, and that’s all that should matter.

WHEN THEY WITNESS PEOPLE WEARING MASKS IN THE RED LIGHT DISTRICT, DO THEY FEEL ‘OFF’ OR SUSPICIOUS? WHAT ARE THEIR VIEWS OF THE POPULARITY OF WEARING MASKS WITHIN THE DISTRICT?

She knows more than she lets on and it perhaps makes sense that it’s enough to keep her undaunted. If there’s one string of rumors which she can affirm is the hushes about her lacking empathy — she could witness the world throttle in ashes and she wouldn’t bat an eye towards anyone other than those who she feels are crucial to her. She can name a few, glides them off the brim of her tongue like it’s always been made to hoist the same monikers over and over again — and she doesn’t give a single damn for anything else. In short, she knows secrets and she knows these leering ghosts carry them but it’s none of her business. Live a life confined in the cubicle she had been born in and you’ll be able to say you have observed, chugged more unnerving fragments in life than a bunch of passersby ambling around sporting masks.

WHERE DO THEIR LOYALTIES LIE? IF THEY ARE AFFILIATED OR LOYAL TO ANY PARTICULAR SYNDICATE OR GROUP, WOULD THEY SWITCH SIDES IF GIVEN AN INCENTIVE OR REASON TO GROVEL? IF THE MUSE IS A ROGUE OF LIESEIL INC. OR THE SILENT DEATH, WHAT OPENED THEIR EYES?

Lieseil would sputter off decadences like they are all she is and all she will ever be — a deceiver, one who gnawed off the hand that fed her, a betrayer, and while some of those don’t venture away from the truth, she has never perceived what she had done as a betrayal as much as a wake-up call. Reborn entirely anew, freed of the cages, her loyalty is never meant to be lacerated unless there’s a good reason for it and those ancient chokeholds surely had bestowed an immense one. Soaked in deceit, she has never looked back ever since and has now instead sloshes around her current faction — more familial than anything she could have possibly tasted prior and laden with signs of affection and protection. She isn’t for any of those things, doesn’t think her body was sculpted to welcome warmth — but it works, somehow. There has not even been an ounce of urgency to turn any other way, and she’s content with it, she thinks she has discovered her place with these people — curt and standoffish as she often presents herself to be.

#terminatask

[yellowfingcr]

"Heysel?" She turns her sword over and over in her hand, staring into the fire with unfocused eyes. It's rare indeed for Merri to be so still, though the constant shifting of the rapier seems to be alleviating some stress; but her face remains tight, her jaw clenched. "Why do you think someone has to become Elden Lord?"

Heysel, sprawled long on her side like a mountain lion, head propped up on a fist, first looks at Merri- at the motion of her sword, back and forth, back and forth, pensive, rhythmic- then turns her stare to the flickering flame too, letting her gaze fall into the orange glow.

“That sure is a question, and one people wiser and more studious than I likely have an answer for you that isn’t because we must, which is a sentence that means nothing and deserves unfettered violence if uttered. I’m assuming you aren’t requesting if I personally demand the existence of an Elden Lord for things to be right and just, which, in any case, I don’t. I’ll tell you what I think, as someone not particularly wise, nor particularly religious. The obvious part: we’re called to kill. To kill, and kill again, and ascend through killing, until we are the very shape of unopposable power. We’re called to do so by an entity who’s supposed to be a god. The same entity that first made you and I outcasts, and then called us back, when the time was right. You do not toss anyone far from home to struggle while still under the watchful eye of your Church unless you want to make something able to survive anything, anything at all, and mold it to somehow follow your precepts still.”

Her gloved fingers run between blades of grass. 

“So you've made warriors. So you've made warriors and believers. Even if they hate you they still hate you because they know the meaning of you or there wouldn’t be hate at all. You are etched into their lives. So we're here, returned, armed, hardened. Oh dear: everything is in shambles. Please fix. Now we have the chance to change everything, if we take the title needed for a throne. I’ll say my wretched idea: someone has to become a Lord because then that someone will carry the power to end all there is once for all. All, Merri. I do not mean this in the way the Three Fingers would. I like the idea of life and thought and births. All lovely things. But I do mean killing Marika. And the Erdtree. And even higher. And higher still. I know I would. I am sick of gods, Merri. Though, of course, this would mean a truly bizarre change in a woman-god who, until not too long ago, wasn't precisely concerned about the suffering she created in the name of a bright bold new world under golden branches."

Her stare returns to her friend.

“But I speak as a professional murderer. I’m afraid that is the lens through which I understand the world. So of course that’s all I'm able to conceive. In the end I see a god’s death wish. I see a kill me, and kill all I'm tethered to. So perhaps what I mean is that it is less about the necessity to hold a crown and more about what you'll leave in your path to reach it: scorched ground, and pristine void. Potential for freedom. But I ramble. I do promise all of this has sense and logic in my mind. Still I wonder how comes that no one has been able to truly enact change, in so long... champions must have been called back. Saints and knights of legend. History makers. And yet. And yet. What has been done wrong, so far? Why is it all like this still? Hmm."

“Why this question, though? You seem worried, my friend.”

#smouldring #er au #heysel vc unfortunately merri my answer for most things is going to be Killing and Maiming

[percontaion-points]

TOWB chapters 57-60

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 57

THEY WERE ALL CHILDREN. Some were close to Ranka’s age, but some were far younger, all cycling through various states of decay as the disease coursed through their veins. Most were beyond saving—they slumped on the floor, secured by manacles and chains, snarling at the sight of Ranka, drool running down their chins. But a few weren’t yet lost. Witches lounged on infirmary beds, hooked up to tubes similar to the ones Aramis had used to pull blood from Ranka’s veins, watching as disease slid into their bodies. Hands of Solomei moved between the beds, checking their vitals, patiently administering more of the disease to the ones who were still lucid.

Why do you have to go through the trouble of creating a viral infection when you can simply trick them into willingly getting sick and dying?

Seriously, these people are literally too stupid to be alive. THEY ARE LITERALLY KILLING THEMSELVES; THIS PHRASE HAS NEVER BEEN MORE APPROPRIATE. 

“She told us it would make us strong. That we could go anywhere and do anything.” Asyil laughed bitterly. “Ongrum loves her lies.”

I have to know if she thought that Ongrum was lying before she let the Hand inject her, or if it was only in hindsight did she realise what was happening. 

This was what Nadya and Sigrid had been transporting. This was what had killed Nadya in the tunnels. Which meant there were more winalin witches loose beneath the city, likely hunting humans at this exact moment. All along the Hands had sown stories of monsters lurking beneath their city, snatching their pets and children, feasting on their corpses in the night. Now Ongrum had ensured it would be a reality. 

Congratulations, you played yourself. 

“We all own this,” Asyil said dully. “We watched her mold you. I suppose it’s easier, to let the bad thing happen than stand against it. But she’s a poison, Ranka. She always has been. If I could go back—Goddess, Ranka. If I could go back, I would have shot her through the heart. I would have gotten you and Yeva the hell out of there and never looked back.”

Oh, this is 100% the disease ravaging her right now. I doubt that anybody would openly admit that they sat back and watched as a monster destroyed everything that they loved unless they knew that they were dying.

And Ranka had always been so very good at fighting.

Chapter 57 summary: In case you couldn’t guess from the previous chapter, but they’re trying to infect themselves in the hope that some of them will somehow survive. However, since this entire thing is being overseen by the literal anti-witch murder cult, there’s no doubt in my mind that there’s going to be a 100% death rate here. Even if somebody does start to get better, they’ll probably be silently suffocated under a pillow. 

This continues to be the turning point between me rallying behind the murder cult and Ongrum, and siding with Ranka. Because now they’re straight up murdering innocent people, and telling them that this’ll make them stronger. 

Ranka sees Yeva’s sister, Asyil, lying on one of the beds. She goes over, and Asyil asks if Yeva is really dead. Asyil then goes on and apologises for having let Ongrum groom the entire coven into whatever sacrificial lambs that they’ve turned into now. Especially for Ranka, who was forced to bear the brunt of Ongrum’s abuse because nobody else wanted to deal with Ranka. She then asks that she go home now, and Ranka knows that Asyil’s only home is with her sister. Ranka asks that Asyil carry a message to Yeva that she’s sorry, and that she’ll put things right. Asyil then dies, and Ranka goes off to make things right. 

Chapter 58

“Isn’t it obvious? The Star Isles were missing a key ingredient: a real, healthy blood-witch. With your biology we can refine winalin until it becomes stable. And a new generation of blood-witches will have the perfect teacher, ready and waiting to help them conquer their power.”

Except that you need fucking living witches for that. The few witches who haven’t willingly signed up for their death sentence will soon, it seems like.

She just hoped she wasn’t too late.

Chapter 58 summary: Ranka storms out from the infirmary and demands to know why Ongrum did it. Ongrum openly laughs at Ranka’s misery, and says that it’s to breed a better witch. Also keep in mind that by Ranka’s own admission, Ongrum is too uneducated to even have thought up even the idea of biological warfare on her own; she knows that the Hand were whispering in Ongrum’s ear. Ongrum goes on to say that with Ranka’s blood, they’ll perfect the plague and turn every witch into a blood witch. One without the bomb inside of them, ready to go off and kill the host at a moment’s notice. 

Ongrum then continues to taunt Ranka, by implying that Aramis lied about how her mother had probably mastered her blood magic. This is where Ranka loses it. Because she might not be smart, but there was no way that Aramis was faking the emotions she had when she talked about her now-dead mother. 

Ongrum then proves that there’s literally no depth of her depravity. She said that she’d taken Yeva south with her, because she bears a mild resemblance to Ranka (in that they’re both blonde and white). She handed Yeva over to the Hand, who held her captive . And she’s like “IDK where that bitch ended up after they released her when you showed up. She probably ran away to a human village, since she was so weak anyway.” She dead-ass thinks that Yeva not only survived, but that she deflected to the humans. Ranka loses it, because Ongrum literally sold a fellow coven-member to the enemy. And as the readers already know, the Hand literally experimented on Yeva and then turned her loose in the city to try and infect others. Ongrum also admits that not only did she sell Ranka out to the guards as well (those wanted posters were a little too specific in their description), and that she’d sold other witches to the Hand for their initial experiments. 

Ranka then pulls out a tranquilliser dart she’d snagged in the infirmary, and jabs it into Ongrum’s neck. Despite all of that, Ranka can’t bring herself to kill Ongrum. That’ll probably be a mistake, and Ranka will likely end up needing to kill her regardless, but whatever. 

Chapter 59

Ongrum was awake. She’d called her witches, and they were coming for blood. Ranka’s time was up.

Chapter 59 summary: Ranka goes to where Percy is being tortured by Tafa and another witch. However, if you think for one second that this is Ranka growing as a character and showing empathy for others, you are wrong. She only cares about Aramis, and Percy is simply a means to an end.

Ranka throws her weight around, and orders them to take Percy down to where Aramis is. That it’s under Ongrum’s orders, because Ranka is the blood witch. 

Ranka also has to bitch-slap Percy in order to keep up her ruse. This only makes Percy hate her more. 

But then as they’re going, Ranka realises that the tranquilliser she used already wore off, and she’s out of time. Should have fucking killed her and stuffed her body in a supply closet or something. Cause then you would have had a bigger window of movement. 

Chapter 60

“Have you seen them, Tafa? The sick ones?” Did you know? Did you help her? 

Tafa looked away. “It’s necessary.” 

“Tell that to Yeva and Asyil.” Ranka swallowed. “What she’s doing is wrong. I think you know that. I think you’re scared too. If winalin gets out into the world, our entire coven is at risk.” 

“Don’t talk about the coven. You have no right. You have no place—”

This is going way further than simply knowing and not doing anything. Tafa is on board with the literal self-genocide plot, which makes her as much as a sociopath as Ongrum. 

But the cell beside hers was empty. Galen was gone.

Chapter 60 summary: Ranka fights off the two witches Ongrum had sent, but without her blood-magic, she’s weak and kind of pathetic. It’s only the element of surprise that allows her to best them. 

Tafa asks how Ranka could turn her back on her own coven. Ranka points out the hypocrisy, and asks if Tafa saw how everybody is literally dying of the witch-plague. Tafa laughs and she basically parrots Ongrum about how this’ll make them all stronger and superior. 

Percy knocks Tafa out, since he was randomly left unattended. He asks Ranka why she’d changed her mind, and she tells him about the plague witches brewing in the infirmary. Percy is like “Well shit. Let’s go.”

They run down to the dungeon, where they find Aramis in really bad shape in a cell. But Galen isn’t there. 

#The Ones We Burn #chapter 57 #chapter 58 #chapter 59 #CHapter 60 #too stupid to be alive #HEADDESKING #Ranka (TOWB) #i'm done goodbye #i have no sympathy for you #shitty parental figures are shitty #Percy (TOWB) #Aramis (TOWB) #Galen (TOWB)

[osborn97lloyd]

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[windblooms]

liyue boys – how they touch their s/o

headcanons and scenarios of how childe, chongyun, scaramouche, xiao, xingqiu, and zhongli would romantically interact with their s/o.

gender-neutral reader.  sfw scenarios for each character, with additional suggestive implications for childe, scaramouche, xiao, and zhongli (since they’re confirmed legal).  2309 words.

childe

the Touchiest of the liyue boys

he just really, really fond of touching you, whether it be with his fingers through your hair or having you a hand on your lap. 

the first time he wanted to touch you, he actually asked (yes, verbally) if you were okay with him doing so

at least one of his acts with you could be orthodox, yeah?  although, looking back on it now, he supposes that he was attempting to be a bit more serious and wasn’t sure how to convey the sentiment when his reputation often preceded him

since then, he’s made a habit to have you next to him at all times

you don’t mind, since his attention is admittedly nice, but understandably neither of you want to display affection towards each other in the presence of his coworkers.  

if you were to be in public, such as walking down the streets of liyue, then he’d have his fingers laced between yours

if he were to be in a particularly good mood that day, he’d actually have you hook your arm around his.  you’re not sure why – but maybe it’s because more of you would be pressed against him that way.

an avid displayer of fleeting touches.  some are playful, like tapping his finger on your nose to get your attention, while others are slightly more teasing, like trailing his fingers up your thigh when you’re working and really shouldn’t be getting distracted. 

“i can’t help it.  your expressions are always the best part.”

so long as you’re next to him, he’ll find any excuse possible to have himself on you.

you’re cold?  take his coat, but also a complimentary hug because wow he’s kinda sorta warm for a snezhnayan native. 

got work to do?  he’ll stroll over to you every once in a while, claim he’s checking on you, and then place a kiss on your cheek as “encouragement.”

just got home from a long day out?  take some time to lay on top of him, he makes for a comfy mattress

his favorite ways to touch you: gloves off, thumb rubs against the back of your hand, hands cradling your neck or squeezing your hips in more passionate moments.  especially enjoys contact the more of your body he feels.  not sexual all the time, but definitely sensually pleasing.  he’s reassured when he feels you next to him. 

chongyun

chongyun is relatively inexperienced in acting out his romantic impulses.  

hand holding?  yeah, sure, he knows it’s what people do, but apparently there something about interlacing fingers . . . ?

also, there are different ways to hug?  he thought that just wrapping his arms around your shoulders would be fine, but is there a specific instance where he should “back hug” you?  

he thinks there should be a lover’s manual for how to go about with physical touch, but sadly there isn’t, and he’s left by himself to make sense of his confusion.

he’ll have to learn first-hand – something he quickly realizes he won’t mind.

chongyun’s touches will reflect his nature: gentle and initially somewhat shy, but he will gradually become more confident as time goes on.

the first time he tries to initiate hand-holding with you, you’re sitting next to each other on the couch

you can tell something’s a bit off by how he’s staring straight into your skull, as if he’s conflicted over something even when there’s nothing to be distressed about –

and he lifts his hand, hesitantly, and you swear that he’s shaking, before he mumbles something along the lines of “screw this” and just

places the tips of his fingers over the back of your hand and

just leaves them there

and you’re blinking, not quite sure what to make of his awkwardness, before connecting the dots when you see him absolutely red in the face. 

he’s startled when he hears you laugh, and especially when you move your hand to securely grasp his own. 

you’re warm, incredibly so, and when he looks up from his lap to affirm that he hasn’t made a complete mess of the mood, you’re there to give him a pat on the head.

“y-yeah.  can we stay like this?  hey!  no, don't laugh – ”

the take-away: soft boy.  will realize that he loves it when you squeeze his hands but will be flustered when admitting it.  also internally enjoys it when you put your chin atop his head, and when you let him put his hand on your shoulder.  will become more confident over time with showing affection, whether it be through light touches or shy pecks. 

scaramouche

scaramouche is admittedly one of the more destructive harbingers

meaning he wouldn’t be one to be gentle in the slightest

probably doesn't even know that hugging is supposed to be an act of affection and instead registers it as another method to crush someone’s chest

the least likely out of the liyue boy to even be in a romantic relationship 

but in the off chance that he is, 

warm affection won’t be on the menu unless you’re in a dream sequence.

yes, he might not be as irritable around you.  yes, he won’t immediately scowl at your presence, and maybe even request for you to be beside him once in a while.

but that is a far cry from assuming stable, healthy intimacy.

the closest he’s ever gone to touching you kindly is by pulling you towards him – nearly winding you with his forcefulness – and insisting that you play with his hair

(definitely a pushy one, and it would be endearing if not for the fact that he does not know how to interact constructively with others.)

so it’ll take time, lots of explanations and dialogue to tell him that no, he doesn’t have to be so rough with his grasp, and yes, it does bother you and you’d insist that he learn to be gentler before touching you again.

he won’t strike you down for speaking your mind – that’s exactly why he’s with you to begin with, since you were able to back up your wit with fight.

he’ll grumble, as if you had told him the most unpleasant of news (which you suppose you just have), but nonetheless attempts to mimic touches you would approve of.

scaramouche is, admittedly, easy to vex.  while he might generally be a hassle to handle, the only time you do let him give in to his harsh tendencies are when you two are kissing each other a bit too hard or grabbing each others’ clothes too eagerly.

in other words, making out.

it’s obvious that he enjoys these more aggressive instances over the ones you’ve convinced him to be satisfied with.  it’s an agreement that both of you have come to terms with: if he’s to  command  ask for little things, he better be respectful about it.  but when you decide to reward him for exercising restraint publicly, it’s behind his door where you let him go unrestrained. 

“so long as you’ll still let me do this, then i might tolerate your . . . other preferences.”

xiao

he’s not sure when you became more comfortable with one another, but for some reason he’s certain that it had to be after you commented on his hair

something about it being soft and appealing to braid – not that he would ever let you,

okay, maybe if you ask enough times.  but for now the answer is definitely no.

anyways,

you were actually the one to ask to hug him first.  he was a bit perplexed, wondering what you were thinking that prompted you to ask, but then realized that neither of you had been physically affectionate before.  

as in, not even hand holding.  or hand squeezes.  or anything else that would be considered basic between partners.

as quickly as you asked, he affirmed that it was all right, and has since become attuned to your need for physical assurance.

something about him “feeling like home” and “safe.”  at the time, he wasn’t sure what feeling like a home meant, however through time he realized that you felt like home as well.

soothing.  as if automatic, he fits your body into his and holds the back of your head against his chest, lets you twirl your fingers in your hair, and carries you into bed.

under the covers, he feels more alone with you, as if the closed door isn’t already enough.

even in the dark, his eyes will roam all over your face, and he’ll run his fingers over your cheeks, down your neck, and over your collarbones. 

he can feel you shudder slightly under his touch, and he’ll always stop immediately, concerned for your discomfort. 

but when you take his hand to your lips and press kisses on his fingers, he’s relieved that he’s still doing right by you. 

so long as you’re sure, he’ll continue his ministrations.  whether it be holding your form flush against him as you drift to sleep, or crooking his finger under your chin so he can mold your lips together just the way you like, so long as you both know you’re safe with him.

in short: inexperienced, but always concerned for you.  won’t do anything unless you ask or suggest, and even then, his care for you is more obvious than the wake of day with the sunrise. 

“i’ll hold you as long as you let me – if you’d have me be with you.”

xingqiu

simple: dramatic.

if you thought that the novels he’s written have gotten to his head, then you would be completely right, because he does not miss an opportunity to add in some flair to your relationship. 

produces a glaze lily out of thin air each time he greets you after your day of work, “fairest, this is for thou,” and has the audacity to look pleased with himself.

a nerd at heart, and you might unironically think it’s cute if not for the laughs he allows himself afterwards.

is always smiling when you touch, even if you’re just bumping into him accidentally.

it doesn’t take much to make him happy, you realize, but that assumption morphs into wow he just.  really loves with his whole heart.

xingqiu’s a magnet when it comes to your shoulder, somehow always leaning against you when given the opportunity

you could be sitting next to each other at the table, or even standing up talking to other people, and he’ll latch onto your shoulder.

“i’ve got you right next to me.  why not capitalize on the moment?”

absolutely adores it when you let him play with your hair.  you’re not sure what it’s about, but after his obvious attachment to your arm, you just decided that he was a very physical lover and you’d be more than willing to indulge him.

if you come visit him when he’s reading or writing, he gets especially excited because!!!  head rest!!!!

and consider yourself occupied for easily the next hour as he rattles off yet another plot of a novel, or attempts to woo you with sappy lines that he decided to mentally bookmark just to tease you with later.

in the instances when he isn’t occupying your lap or shoulder, he actually likes it when you lean on him as well, especially if you’re sleepy.  he finds the whole act endearing, either you being too lazy to move to bed or finding him comfortable. 

so long as you don’t tire of his antics, he’ll be sure to indulge you in the same. 

zhongli

despite being what some would call oblivious when it comes to human interaction, zhongli is surprisingly romantically competent so long as you give him time to adjust.

he’s quick to notice things you like and hones in on them with relative ease.  admittedly, the first time you hugged him, he was a bit stiff, but was actually the one to initiate physical affection the following time.

 it gives you hope that there aren’t actually cobwebs still in that thousand year-old brain of his. 

already a traditional man, you soon realize that he’s fond of more innocent touches, such as when you slot your fingers against his or unbind his hair to play with the strands. 

he might even fall asleep if you comb his hair long enough, enjoying being spoiled.

forehead kisses!

at least twice a day, he’ll brush aside your bangs and place pecks on your forehead.  if not your forehead, then definitely your cheeks.

lowkey wants to pinch your cheeks.  you’re not sure why.  maybe it’s the childish curiosity that peaks out of him every so often, and he’ll absent-mindedly comment that your cheeks remind him of crystal shrimp balls.

you’d stutter every time, finding his sense in compliments endearing yet flustering at once, and he’d just blink, the sincere man he is.

“but they do.  flush with color.”  a pause.  “could i maybe have a bite?”

ah, yes, when he does want a bite –

his touches will be unbearably soft.  so much so that you’re not even sure he’s real, with the tenderness on his fingers and warmth in his voice.

zhongli cherishes you as if he’s waited a thousand years for you.  in the back of his head afraid that if he’s any more present then he might break you, as if he would ever capable of doing something like that –

he’ll have your thighs around his waist, body above your own and mouth leaving fleeting pressures along your neck

each time his lips press into your skin, he leaves sweet words behind.

he only wishes to enjoy the moments he has with you, so long as you enjoy yourself as well.  zhongli will be attuned to your preferences, and take delight in spoiling you rotten – even if he might be a bit unorthodox with his speech, his sentiment is never in question. 

#genshin impact #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #scaramouche x reader #chongyun x reader #xingqiu x reader #scenarios #headcanons #short king will count as a liyue boy for now #can you see my zhongli bias? yes #italics need a break

[yellowbellywriting]

Year One

Bruno had forgotten his birthday.

That wasn’t entirely true; Bruno had lost track of time. Living in the walls was easier if he didn’t pay attention to the time that was passing. Which wasn’t to say that he didn’t keep to a schedule. He learned very early on that if he wanted to keep a grip on his sanity he was going to need a routine. On Sundays, when everyone went to church, he gathered any miscellaneous supplies he needed from the house. On Wednesday nights, (Agustín had managed to convince Julieta that at least one night a week she should take a break from the kitchen), he snuck downstairs overnight and picked up any cooking supplies he needed. It was too risky to steal all his food, he had to be able to make some. He’d worked out a setup to do just that, but he had to be careful not to take too much of any one thing from the kitchen. It wasn’t exactly a starvation diet, but if anything at all went wrong and he wasn’t able to make his usual trips, he found himself making meals out of a pretty strange assortment of things. One week he’d mostly subsisted off of jam. That had been a particularly unpleasant week.

But it gave him something to do, a way to keep busy. He’d steal just enough to get him through each week, keeping enough preserved goods stashed away that he could handle it if anything went wrong. He’d cook at the same time Julieta did, to disguise any cooking aromas that might escape through the walls into the rest of the house. And rarely did he steal his sister’s cooking anymore. There wasn’t much point; sure it tasted better than his own cooking, but the difference wasn’t enough to be worth the risk. And her healing gift only worked if she made the food for you, if she intended for you to have it or gave it to you directly, which pretty much disqualified him unless he wanted to let her know he was there.

Which was…fine. He was fine. Except he’d been gone for a year and he wasn’t fine, because two months ago he’d found cracks along the wall like the ones in his vision, only these ones had revealed a pretty extensive mold problem behind Pepa’s room. All the damp, he supposed–it wasn’t even dry rot, which he’d found elsewhere and dealt with, it was proper mold, black and clinging to anything that touched it. He’d stripped out all the ruined wood and gotten rid of it, using Pepa’s storms to cover the noise, and had managed to do a repair job that he could be proud of. Luckily he’d gotten pretty good at turning old barrels and things into construction materials, and had fixed up the whole area.

But working with mold, in close proximity to Pepa’s room, had taken its toll on him–especially since he’d only worked during her storms. For weeks, he’d gone to sleep in his hammock shivering from working in a cold rain, muffling coughs from the dust he’d kicked up carrying the moldy wood. And when he’d finished the job, the coughing hadn’t stopped. Neither had the shivering. He told himself he’d just picked up a cold and would recover soon enough, which had been a wonderfully comforting thought that had lasted until he’d found himself suddenly unable to breathe one day, standing at the top of a ladder with a bucket of spackle.

The fall had hurt. The bucket of spackle landing on him had also hurt, and had covered him in what felt like cold, gritty mud. Once he’d been able to breathe again, he’d cleaned up the mess as best he could, then stripped and washed his clothes, trying to scrub out the spackle before it hardened. He had a few changes of clothes, but not nearly enough to waste an entire outfit by letting it cement into a sculpture. By the time he got to cleaning the spackle out of his hair, he’d officially run out of hot water, and he was shivering hard. But only once that was done did he pull on dry pants and a ruana and crawl into his hammock to assess the damage he’d done to himself.

It hadn’t been good. He couldn’t be certain, but he thought he’d probably broken his wrist. And maybe his ankle was just twisted, but walking on it wasn’t fun. There was a purpling crescent on his ribs where the bucket of spackle had landed, and that didn’t even address the root of the problem, which was why hadn’t he been able to breathe?

Bruno had been sick before, and he’d certainly had more than his fair share of headaches and fevers, but he’d never gotten to experience being injured and sick at the same time. If it was a cold, Julieta’s cooking wouldn’t really help–it could treat symptoms, and she often made use of that to great effect on people who were sick, but it didn’t get rid of sickness. It would only really help if the mold had somehow damaged his lungs.

It would only help if he could get to it.

…It would only help if she made it for him .

Bruno resigned himself to a long, miserable recovery.

For two weeks, he slept fitfully, only really moving around when he had to go relieve himself or get water. He ate his entire stock of reserves and resorted to using what little cornmeal he had left to make what he was pretty sure qualified as gruel. His ankle swelled, making walking harder, and his ribs grew stiffer, stabbing with pain every time he needed to cough–which was often, as his breathing got worse. He didn’t think he was in danger of dying, but he clearly had to do something . He just didn’t know what.

So it came as a surprise one morning when he woke up and heard the definite sounds of party preparations coming from the other side of the wall.

He had to pee anyway, so he hauled himself upright and waited for his head to stop spinning before limping over to take a look at what was happening. What he saw through the gap made his chest hurt in a way that had nothing at all to do with his ribs, and his breath left him like he’d been punched.

It was his birthday. It was their birthday. He’d looked through the gap just in time to see Julieta shoo Pepa out of the kitchen, because Pepa couldn’t stop raining around the food. Julieta stood in the kitchen on her own for a moment after her sister left, then fell into a chair and buried her head in her arms, her shoulders shaking.

Bruno wanted so badly to go to her. To go to them . To apologize. His right arm was all but useless now, but he sank down in his chair as well, in front of the pathetic plate he’d painted himself months ago, and covered his own mouth with his hand.

“I’m sorry, Julieta.” The words were soft. Too soft. They had to be. “Pepa. I’m so sorry.”

He stayed there all day. Through the party, through the singing, through his sisters’ forced smiles and his mamá’s fixed, pleasant expression that looked entirely wooden. He was still there when everyone went to bed and his sisters swiped a bottle of wine and broke down together. He was still there when Julieta cut a small slice of the leftover cake and left it on the table, at the place that used to be his.

He only moved once he was sure everyone was asleep, when his uneven, painful steps and his wheezing little coughs wouldn’t draw anyone’s attention. He thought he’d been managing. He thought he’d been coping–a few accidents aside, he had been , hadn’t he? But when he finally managed to make it down to the kitchen, picked up the fork his sisters had left for him, and took a bite of his birthday cake, reality came crashing over him in a way he simply hadn’t let it since he’d left.

He hardly noticed his wrist healing, his ankle deflating back to its normal size. He noticed the air come easier into his lungs, the way it didn’t hurt to breathe anymore, but only because he found himself taking a sharp, shuddering breath. He sat down hard in the seat Julieta had occupied an hour earlier, when she’d been crying on Pepa’s shoulder. He let his head sink to the table the way Pepa had after the wine bottle was empty. He imagined they were still here, that all three of them were grieving together. That he could tell them how sorry he was. That he could come home .

He whispered his apologies to the wood of the table, hoping casita would understand, but the house was entirely still around him. And he couldn’t be found here, or it would have all been for nothing.

So eventually he stood. His breath still trembled in his chest, sobs that he refused to let out. He couldn’t bring himself to finish the cake, didn’t want to give his sisters that kind of false hope. Because he couldn’t come back. He just had to hope they wouldn’t notice the bit missing, or that they’d blame the rats.

So instead, he made his way woodenly to the kitchen. He swiped a new bag of cornmeal and a couple of fruits, and stumbled his way back into the walls just as dawn began to touch the horizon, feeling far more broken than he had when the day began.

#my writing #ok the problem with posting chapters as their own fics on tumblr #is that I need to come up with ACTUAL TITLES #which is terrible I'm bad at titles on a good day #anyway #bruno madrigal #triplets tag #pepa madrigal #julieta madrigal #angst #bruno whump #also how tf do you tag writing on tumblr I certainly don't know #tw food insecurity #side note I tried to tag food insecurity when I posted this on ao3 just now #and the SUGGESTED TAGS that came up #I know there's that internet rule that there's a kink for everything including things you haven't thought of #doesn't make it less startling when you encounter evidence of that in the wild while trying to tag something for a totally different reason #anyway this is part of a longer fic but i think it stands alone fine

[lexpressobean]

Do you guys think Shino actually allows himself to decompress during his days off? Like it’s one thing to simply catch up on household chores or maybe tend to his Kikaichu free of time constraints. Possibly does some shopping while he’s able to. Maybe pursues his hobbies. But then there is also simply lounging about in one’s home or enjoying a low level activity like taking a walk around and out of town. I’d like to think he would do that.

But, as it’s his day off, would he ever consider leaving his Kikaichu behind? Like, tell them to leave his body and keep them contained somewhere. Inside his own gourd in his room, or maybe there’s an Aburame compound based area to keep Kikaichu when not in use? Maybe they rent a space within the area for scheduled expulsions lol

Would that even be allowed? Or even possible? Possibly frowned upon or actually encouraged to give the body time to heal and let chakra build back up again?

I’m probably overthinking and spending too much time on this but a part of me hopes they do give their bodies a break because I… think that should be a thing.

No matter how stone-faced Shino tries to be, aided by his glasses and high collars, Shino for sure (imo) is prone to Anxiety and periods of Dejection. Some of it is filler, some of it is not. Sometimes he’s shown to to express himself, sometimes he isn’t.

Shino definitely tries to and succeeds in embodying the ideal Shinobi, even as a youngster. And just like Neji, one character who definitely had molded his thought process to the point of being promoted to Jounin while still a teenager, Shino is more likely to follow the Shinobi Code of Conduct as well during any situation.

And when he concludes that he can’t efficiently follow through, he just gives up on the current situation and bows out. Fragile self-confidence of a literal child and wounded pride aside, I think he also just knows that everytime he goes on a mission, everyone’s life is effectively on the line. Even a D-Rank Mission could end up having B-Rank hazards and risks as the situation changes, and every member of the squad has to be skilled enough and prepared to face the hypothetical challanages ahead.

So going back to the idea that Shino may or may not be able to leave his Kikaichu behind in some kind of temporary holding. I'm very positive that a long term Kikaichu user can definitely be without their Kikaichu. Short term expulsion (like just a day or so) shouldn't be a problem because whatever business Kikaichu do to tunnel into their Aburame shouldn't heal up that quickly unless aided by medical ninjutsu, I think. So physically, I think it's fine. My doubt more or less comes from the Kikaichu's side of the situation. Like, how are they managed when their Aburame needs a break? I'm so sure they need breaks.

Shibi keeps a good chunk of his in a gourd that he carries around. And since they eat chakra, that's probably not a problem because they're still very much on his person. They can easily take in all the chakra they're allotted because he's literally right there, and the only reason he carries the gourd is because his actual body has probably already met it's full occupancy, right? Logically?

Seeing as he's older and considered very skilled and seasoned, I would say that's just because Shibi has lived long enough to easily produce and maintain a certain amount of chakra that lets him double up in the first place. Shino is younger and hasn't had enough time to produce as much chakra, so he doesn't actually need a gourd, which is fine. But is that the ultimate Aburame goal or is Shibi just a special case as "The Pride" of the Aburame??

I can't imagine that they or any other Aburame hive could actually take a break from their Kikaichu tho. They're called parasites for a reason... They literally just live off of their Aburame when they're not actively given a meal in the form of enemies or whatever else.

But supposed they could expel their hive for a day with no negative impact to their Kikaichu or that symbiotic relationship. I have a few ideas as to how but I won't get into that. More like, if it's just simply a choice that one can make for their day off... Like, would Shino actually choose to expel them?

Shino, the guy who lives so strictly by the Shinobi code. A typical nin doesn't need to carry kunai or other tools on their way to the hair salon during a day off and definitely not on a trip to the local onsen... so like, even though Kikaichu aren't simple tools... does Shino, or any other Aburame really need to keep their Kikaichu on them during their own day off? Is that really considered "off duty" or is that just life for them?

Yeah it was kinda funny when Genin Shino passed out in the onsen with Kiba and Akumaru, causing his hive to become displeased and rowdy. But when Chuunin Shino took Lee's invitation with everyone else, he never actually got into the water, though maybe he just didn't get the chance. The Illustration for that tidbit implied he did/would've with his Kikaichu, causing them to slip out of his overheated body once again into the water. But as far as we actually know, he simply just... partook in the cleansing that usually happens beforehand and might've just hung out like Neji at the edge. I would hope he'd know he can't handle the heat for too long at this time, but maybe it was a conscious choice since he didn't really have time to put his bugs away. He knows what might happen.

It's just so inconvenient bro. Like, Shino is still human, and their home isn't constantly at war anymore. The Shinobi Code is so ruthless and dehumanizing and strict. Even if the Aburame didn't actually have anything for or against short term expulsion, it was just common practice to do what you will/need, would Shino actually believe in that? Would he believe that his body deserves a break, his mind deserves a break from consant Kikaichu maintenance during an assigned day off? Like I think it should at least be an honest choice the Aburame can make without any official or unofficial consequences. They deserve that much.

But I feel like Shino wouldn't take it as something he should do. He could, but he wouldn't. He'd be too dutiful, even hypervigilant, and keep them on his person just in case. Just in case he might need them. Does that make trips to the onsen for the full experience kind of a no-go? Yeah. Does that mean he can never drink? He probably just doesn't out of his own likes/dislikes, but at this point it's not an honest choice, he just can't. Not without major problems.

I don't think Shino would let himself just enjoy himself as even a Typical Nin would because he can't. Not while he's infested. But once successfully infested, you're infested for life, right? "You don't get to shouldn't expel for leisure" is what I think Shino would think, because he's such a stickler for doing things the "right" way, and when it comes to his profession, there's a whole ass Rule Book on it. No one should ever let their professional life affect or run over into their personal life if they can help it. But if your profession IS a way of life, then... I guess that's just it. And when you specialize like the Aburame do, I guess they just have to live with that Tradition. And that kinda blows. I mean, props to the commitment and what not, but I wonder what that does to their mental health, on top of the more obvious shit. Like murdering people for a living.

Ideally, all Shinobi are actually very questionable individuals, with or without Kekkei Genkai. And these questionable people are paid to stay this way... the more questionable the better lmao. Maybe if Naruto actually did what he set out to do back in the day, everyone would feel a lot better. What happened man.

#anime: naruto #shino aburame #aburame shino #my brainrot is just getting worse lol #neverMIND shino having problems like hive seperation anxiety #or partaking in more adult activities with a goal of succesfully starting a family #him and the rest of the clan #like please i just want him to chill out #but he's probably too vigilant #what if Shibi actually nags at Shino to 'just leave the bugs at home shino. just for one day.' #like even Shibi knows his son is too fucking much sometimes hahaha #but Shino is a bit of a brat. he's not gonna listen lol

[dc41896]

Gratuity (2)

✨Pairing✨: mob!Ari LevinsonxBlack Reader

Summary🪄: It’s the night of the party, and you might be in for more than you thought with Mr. Levinson

⚠️:Brief language, pretty much all fluff💕!

“$500?!,” your best friend shouts through the phone startling you and apparently bothering someone else from the loud shush you hear in the background. “Um you don’t have to sit right next to me you know. Exactly walk away rude! Anyway, $500?”

You can only shake your head as you slide the few dresses hanging in your closet from one side to the other. “Well, really $495 and some change after the charge for his coffee but yea I tried to hand it back thinking it was a mistake, but he said no. And he um invited me to a party.”

You only hear silence making you pull the phone from your ear checking to see if the call had been disconnected.

“Hello? Tyla?”

“Sorry I’m here, just had to run somewhere more private,” she answers slightly out of breath, “but a $500 tip and a date?! Wait..oh shit are you a sugar baby?”

“No!”

“If you are I’m definitely not judging, you know that’s my dream.”

“No Tyla I’m not a sugar baby, and it’s not a date. He said I could bring a friend or friends. I’d like to think dates are a little more secluded.”

“They can be, unless it’s like those group hang outs where two people are hanging out more so with each other than with the group. But anyway, know what you’re gonna wear yet?”

Searching through the few dresses dangling in your closet, you felt yourself growing a bit more frustrated trying to determine which could be deemed acceptable enough to stand in a room filled with CEOs, millionaires, and trust fund kids who grew into somewhat financially stable adults.

So far, none fit the mold.

“No,” you sigh, “not yet.”

“Perfect! I’ll come get you when I get off in about an hour, and we can go shopping.”

Being an office assistant for a magazine company downtown, she knew where all the best boutiques were and who carried the most beautiful dresses and gowns having to go to at least one everyday retrieving someone’s order. However, being the best also tended to mean expensive.

“Okay, but you know I’m trying to save money-,”

“To buy the boys and girls club and stop it from closing, I know, but you don’t have to spend all your money. Put majority of it back and keep one or two hundred out. That’ll be enough for a dress and shoes trust me.”

She had a point. You could still add to your collection pot while treating yourself. Plus it was a necessity really, seeing that you didn’t even have a nice, simple black dress. Something every woman needed in her closet.

“Okay, I’ll be ready when-,”

“Ms. Ward!,” a voice booms on the other end followed by loud knocks. “I know you’re in there! You were supposed to be back 10 minutes ago!”

“I had a bathroom emergency!,” Tyla shouts back making you silently giggle to yourself afraid you’d somehow get your friend in more trouble. “Gotta go.”

———

“And you’re sure this is okay? I don’t want to look like-,”

“A hooker?,” Tyla finishes while reapplying her lipstick in the small compact mirror.

“I was gonna say escort but..”

Since leaving your apartment, you’d pulled the the black skirt of your dress down pretty much every other minute afraid that the soft, velvet material would eventually show the matching colored thong hidden underneath.

“Relax and stop tugging,” she scolded swatting your hand away, “The dress stops mid-thigh so it’d take a lot for you to flash someone. That is unless you want a certain, insanely rich someone to see what’s underneath.”

“No I don’t,” you laugh smacking her in the arm with the back of your hand as she rolled her cat like honey brown eyes.

Although, deep down you wouldn’t be completely against it. With his statuesque figure and muscles that you were surprised didn’t cause rips in his clothes whenever he walked or moved, you were ashamed to admit there were nights you wondered what it would be like to be held against his solid chest with those arms you were sure could easily be suffocating, yet also secure you physically and emotionally to a peaceful sleep. Or pin you down with just the right amount of pressure as he-

“Your stop ladies,” the Uber driver announces snapping you out of your daydream just as the car slowly stops in front of quite possibly the biggest mansion you’ve ever seen.

Given it was the first mansion you’ve actually seen in person.

Carefully exiting the backseat of the SUV, both sets of your heels clack against the sand colored cobblestone while taking in the grand home as if you were tourists gazing at the Eiffel tower. It reminded you of all those celebrity homes you’d see mentioned in magazines or those shows depicting how the rich and famous lived. You didn’t even have to touch the doorknob, being greeted by a middle aged man in a black and white tuxedo with white gloves. “Good evening. Everyone is either outside or walking about the lower level. I can take your purses if you’d like.”

“Thanks,” both of you mindlessly murmur handing over your small clutches while gazing at your surroundings. You felt like an ant with how much bigger the inside seemed due to the high, multi-layer ceiling. The polished white floors reflected the circular, built in lights shining above making the room appear even brighter and warmer. Through the walls of glass lining the back wall, you could see the small set of stairs leading to the manicured lawn where other partygoers mingled and laughed.

“I feel like God’s house in heaven would look just like this,” Tyla speaks making the butler silently chortle to himself. She’d been to a few mansions before being lucky enough to tag along to fancy soirées, albeit for work, but none compared to what she stood in now. “Y/N your boyfriend isn’t just rich. He’s that level of rich where they use old bills for napkins or toilet tissue.”

“Crazy enough, I prefer the usual paper. Cloth ones are nice too though, when the occasion calls for it.”

Black long sleeve shirt that perfectly framed his upper body and charcoal grey dress pants fitted just as well with a matching black boot, its like seeing him walk in the restaurant for the first time all those months ago. You feel your heartbeat quicken as he peers at you, blue eyes subtly taking you in from your pulled back curls down to your new black stilettos that wrapped up to just above your ankle. The metal band of his silver watch leaves a cool imprint on your lower back as his hand gently pulls you in for a welcoming hug. His cologne mixed with his soft beard catching your cheeks from the quick kisses has you transported to another world and head feeling fuzzy from what you could only describe as a high.

“You look breathtaking angel,” he whispers in your ear as he pulls away before directing his attention to an inwardly smirking Tyla realizing who this mystery man was. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Tyla. Tye this is Ari, my um friend who invited us,” you explain as the two greet each other with an embrace and kisses to each other’s cheeks.

“Nice to meet you Ari. Your home is immaculate.”

“Oh this is actually my uncle’s house. I haven’t quite gotten to his level yet,” he humbly smiles using his free hand to brush his hair out of his face.

How could he make a simple movement something you’d want to watch over and over again?

“Ari,” a voice calls appearing from tall, brown double doors across the room. All black suit and a gold ring adorning the four fingers of his left hand, the bald man looked like someone you definitely wouldn’t want to piss off. And from the look on his clean shaven face, whatever needed to be discussed must’ve been important. Even Ari’s energy seemed to shift and body become more tense.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to handle something really quick but please enjoy yourselves,” he smiles at Tyla before meeting your eyes, “I’ll find you later.”

“Oh, okay.”

Your best friend waits until he’s completely out of sight before playfully hitting your arm and squealing. “Y/N’s got a hot booyfrienddd!”

“Shh! Before you get us kicked out,” you giggle, walking with her towards the large sliding glass doors that led to those mingling in the lawn. “And he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yet. He’s definitely into you though, and from that smile you’re into him too.”

It was probably your naïveté, but him liking you back never crossed your mind. Yes he was charming, but like most wealthy businessmen you encountered, you assumed that was just part of his personality. Being suave and saying the right things was a must in that profession, so once it was displayed on you, you didn’t want to think too much into it in fear of being foolish.

“And speaking of boyfriend’s, I see a potential suitor so I will talk to you later. That is unless Ari finds you first,” she winks before seductively swaying down the steps and right up to a slender man in a burgundy suit, who pulled a champagne glass from one of the passing waiters for her.

The dim lights mounted on different points of the house along with those set in the ground created a warm glow making those around look even more glamorous. It carried to the empty grassland behind the property highlighting the incoming fog as well as different markers lining just before the thick forest waving from the breeze.

Or were they targets?

Just as you stepped closer to the black, metal gate trying to get as close a look as you could, a deep voice startles you nearly making you drop your glass as you grab your chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Black hair faded on the sides and back while the longer top was braided to his head in a V formation, his chocolate brown three-piece suit and white button down does nothing to hide his muscular figure. Although just as fit and tall as Ari, this stranger’s beard was thicker bringing attention to his fuller, moisturized lips and snow white smile. “Shiloh.”

“Y/N,” you reply shaking his outstretched hand.

“So tell me, what’s a beautiful woman like you doing off to herself?”

“Well I um don’t really know anyone here.”

“Plus she was waiting on me,” Ari interjects wrapping a secure arm around your waist. “This guy isn’t bothering you too much is he?”

“Bothering? She practically begged me to save her from her boring date,” Shiloh grins as Ari rolls his eyes before joining in. Of course two good looking men like them were friends, you shouldn’t be surprised.

“Congrats again man on the expansion. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Thank you. Between us, hopefully this is the first step in having offices around the country. Can’t have you being the only one building an empire.”

“Wait, you own the lounge downtown. Acuvus, right?,” you ask. Looking more at his face, you recognized him from the many magazine articles and interviews discussing his story and how he’d became so successful in seemingly a short amount of time.

Pretty much everyone knew about Acuvus and how only those with connections or who were part of the elite had access to the coveted reservation list. In your time waitressing, you overheard some customers talking about their night before at the multi-floor, rooftop lounge. How the drinks were some of the best in the city, maybe even the whole state, and the dance floor was never dead from the music that was played. If you could, it was surely one of those places you needed to experience at least once.

“Yep, and the lounge in Miami, Vegas, and eventually every major city in the US,” he smiles taking a sip of his beer. “You’ve been?”

“No I uh, don’t really get to go out because of work.” That and you’d probably never get on the list since you weren’t wealthy or had any connections of the sort.

“Well then, looks like now you have the perfect date idea,” he grins grabbing Ari’s shoulder giving it a gentle shake. You weren’t sure if Ari not correcting him was for your benefit of not being embarrassed, or if maybe he actually liked the idea. Either way, your gaze shifted towards the ground hoping he didn’t feel the nerves in the form of excess heat radiating off your body.

His hand gently squeezing your side as he lowly chuckles has you quickly pressing your lips together to block the gasp threatening to escape at the feel of his larger hand and thumb mindlessly grazing along the mesh of your dress.

“Thanks, but I already have an idea for that.”

This has your head lifting to unintentionally meet his eyes gazing at you the same way he did when you’d sit with him talking about how you spent the prior weekend. Or when you’d move about the restaurant like a passing wind setting people’s orders down in front of them and flashing your best smile being friendly to the new customer who just arrived. Of course you’d never notice it yourself, but you had this spirit that brought a type of bliss from your quirky ways and overall quiet, simple nature. And Ari couldn’t seem to get enough.

“Well then on that note, I’ll leave you kids to it,” Shiloh winks taking the last swig of his beer. “Lovely to meet you Y/N. Come by the lounge anytime you want or if you ever want to get away from this one.”

“Thank you, nice meeting you too,” you giggle.

“Mm very funny,” Ari quipped bumping fists with his friend before he disappeared further into the gathering of bodies. “So what was that face?”

“Face? I-I don’t-,”

“When I mentioned a date,” he smirks moving to lean on the gate that stood to his lower abdomen. “I’m a big boy so don’t feel like you have to spare my feelings.”

“No no it’s just…why?”

“…why not?,” he shrugs looking amused.

“I don’t come from all this like you, nor do I live the same lifestyle. I just figured you’d want someone equal, you know? Makes things easier I guess,” you shyly admit.

“You don’t know where I come from angel,” he states standing so close you can smell the beer on his lips and feel the air from his nostrils hit your cheeks. “And I’ve told you before, I like what I like.”

The sudden clinking of glass has everyone’s attention turning towards an older man standing in the center of the lawn holding up a half-filled champagne flute causing everyone around to do the same. Still somewhat in good shape for his age, a full mix of black and grey hair sat atop his head styled in short waves that seemed to be combed back either with the actual tool or maybe just his fingers. His dark green, knitted short sleeve partially showed a cross tattoo surrounded by roses and some small emblem on the underside of his bicep, while his other hand stayed in the pocket of his black slacks.

“As you all know, we’re here to celebrate the opening of our new downtown office. But, I also want to take this time to celebrate my nephew Ari, or as I’ve know him cucciolo,” he chuckles along with everyone around including Ari himself.

“Behind every major decision, his input was the driving factor, if not the final say, and we haven’t been steered wrong yet. You’ve been right beside me all these years and I can’t thank you enough nipote. I see you as the son I never had and I know we still have more to do. To the head of our new district office and to the continued success of I Cinque.”

“I Cinque,” everyone cheers taking a sip of their respective glasses.

Translations:

-cucciolo: cub/pup/whelp/youngling

-nipote (ni’po.te): nephew/niece/grandchild

-I Cinque (Cheen-kweh): The Five

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @lazybatlady @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @bekinds @ladydmalfoy @maxcullen @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @damnitaa @literaturefeen @bamondomesticity @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for (can be found in masterlist), or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

#ari levinsonxblack reader #ari levinsonxwoc #ari levinsonxreader #ari levinson au #ari levinson #red sea diving resort #chrisxblackreader #chrisxwoc #chrisxreader #chris evans

[remsmoonlight]

— title : candy coated promises

— word count : 2.6k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : a chance conversation between you and daryl leaves you realising just how much of a sponge daryl’s mind is when he comes back from a run with an unexpected gift.

— warnings : mentions of alcohol, light mentions of deaths of loved ones

“ Daryl x reader. Daryl comes back from a run and has found readers fave chocolate and keeps it hidden all day until they have watch together then surprises them with it and gets a big awkward hug from them, making him blush like a tomato on the outside and feeling happy on the inside. “

            ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*   requests are open ! / requested by @phoenixblack89  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A rugged backpack is slung lazily over the shoulder of Daryl after a successful run , as relaxed as Daryl could find himself those days, the stress and alertness still molded every inch of his body as if they’d been there since day one. Perhaps they have been, he contemplates. After all, growing up, his life had not been a beautiful, tangled mess of fairytales and light, rather it had been the inspiration for nightmares. Still, he doesn’t dwell on that life unless he has to, the world has chosen to live a different life and that does not hold space for past memories.

For him? The past can be a painful reminder of a way of living that has long since been deceased — focusing on what once was is the best way to take away the focus of living in the present.

Only a few days had been spent at the prison, the majority of the time had been spent making it somewhat fit for purpose, despite no life being there to tend to its upkeep. They’d been burning through what little the group had of their stockpile of supplies, preferring to stay inside the barbed wire fences. To enjoy the moment, how little it may be. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d been able to just rest without the need to tread into a dangerous path .. perhaps it had been at the farm? It feels like it has been a lifetime since they’d had somewhere to regroup, to rebuild their strength to its optimum.

Being cooped up with his group, as much as he thought of them as family, he had slowly began to feel suffocated by the prison’s metal gates — even in the apocalypse do they still do their job well, even a day away has given him the much needed space his soul craved to breathe. Respite that had sorely been needed.

Daryl’s mind wanders off to a conversation had a few months prior, something so insignificant to you yet it stuck to his mind like glue.

“ If I knew the world was gonna end and we’d spend the rest of our lives trying not to get eaten by walkers, I’d have stocked up on my favourite things. “

The hunter turns his eyes to you strangely, almost in confusion as it inks itself into his features as he continues to stare at you. You understand why he’s so confused, it had rather come out of the blue since you had been enjoying the company of the other — a language without words that you are fluent in when the other is around.

“ Huh? “

“ Well, “ you begin, your eyes widen momentarily as you shift to face him, your knees complaining silently at the movement. “ Life is difficult as it is, but you know what makes it a little less hard? “

“ Booze? “ he guesses immediately, his shoulders shrugging with little liveliness.

“ Okay — ! You got me there .. technically ? “ you pause, your brows furrowing as if to allow your mind to thoroughly work through that answer. Your mind retreats back to the days where you spent nights where you should have been studying, to parties where the alcohol appeared to flow without a limited supply.  “ But, your favourite things make this nonsense easier. “

“ Same shit. “

“ You’re no fun today. “ You complain hopelessly, a wispy sigh dancing off silently in the summer’s breeze never to be seen again. Again, you shift your position and allow your chin to rest on your knees.

Night shift of being on watch had been left to the two of you, if anything you enjoy taking the night watches. Your heart takes comfort in a certain tranquility the night brings, leaving time for you to gather your thoughts and to reflect on the day and everything it had brought. The empty space the farm brought only adds to the charm.

Many of those watches had been accompanied by Daryl, in the beginning he’d seen you as nothing more than a nuisance who couldn’t keep quiet. Of course, with the movement of time brings change. You’d found a wavelength where there was less and less venom sent your way. Edges that had spent more time bathed in a haunting concoction of hatred and hurt began to dissolve little by little as he spent more time above air, an understanding had been reached.

“ Ain’t much to be laughin; ‘bout now. “

“ Hm, I suppose you’re right. “ You nod to yourself, your eyes scan the endless horizon of the farm, following the eerie trail the moonlight leaves as it grazes the Earth below. “ Still, I would kill for my favourite chocolate bar. I’d stock up on them if I ever get the chance. “

“ Yeah? Wha’s that? “ He questions you lazily, carrying on the conversation while turning to face you momentarily.

You tell him the brand, going into specific detail as you try to replicate the taste on your tongue from nothing, itching for a momentary break in a world painted red with the blood of the living and the dead. It’s a silly belief, yet anything that helps you to build a fog of a perfect illusion for no matter how long is worth it, the human brain can only take so much darkness surrounding it before it takes a hold that feels as if it will never succumb to the light.

“ Keep y’eye out. Y’might get lucky one day. “

“ Luck is a rare thing to have nowadays, Daryl. “ you whisper, more to yourself than the man who sits by your side. A twinge of pain buried deep within the arms of your words, though not hidden enough as Daryl spots it swiftly. “ It’s becoming rarer each day. “

“ Guess y’gotta make y’own luck then. “ He offers lightly, unknown that his mind has already stored the information away.

He’d developed a fondness of you, his original opinion had been turned on its head and he hated to see even the slightest hint of suffering penciled into your features — unspoken, he’d decided, even in this world, you were made to smile. He’d seen the light and joy that you brought to others, it’s only right that you should experience the same. Even over the smaller things, which is why he would promise to himself he would be on the lookout for the very chocolate you have your heart set on experiencing once again.

Heavy thuds punish the gravel beneath him as he treks back to their new home, observing the complete transformation in their expressions. Even after going through a lifetime’s worth of trauma with these people, realising people who are genuinely glad about his presence returning, even happy to have him there, is still something that he’s to get used to. Every time he finds himself faced with this situation, Daryl recognises the uncomfortable prickling sensation that begins in his fingers and inches outwards, under the veil of self preservation. But Daryl knows better. He has been the fool to such emotions before and that has only left him lost in a sea of silent distress, powerless. No longer does he listen to that mischievous voice in the back of his head that gorges greedily on his self sabotage.

Searching for your whereabouts had been the original plan on his mind, but he’s quick to rid that thought from his mind. Unable to bring himself to just be ready for the surprise on your face.. Or lack of. The conversation had been so long ago that he wonders if it had been no more than a passing wish, left forgotten as a passing fancy that holds more weight to him than you.

The day romantically dances with the dusk that slowly rolls the night on, stars shining so bright without the bright glare humanity brought with it.

“ You’re on watch tonight, they’re already up there. “ Rick informs Daryl with a pat on the back, of course, the smirk that paints his mouth so gleefully is hidden in his retreat.

Steps to the peak point of the guard tower felt as if they have shrunk, the distance feels lesser than normal, he notes to himself. Better now than never, he silently remarks. The confectionary lays safely tucked away in his side pocket, he’d have physically clipped his ear himself had he forgotten to bring it, he���s warmly thankful of his memory in this case.

“ Daryl! “

Closing the door with a lone click the noise alerts you to the presence that joins yours in the darkness. It feels like months since you’d laid your eyes on him, when in reality it had been little over a day. But when you spend twenty four hours with people you now call your family, even the hours you do not see them, time flows at a hauntingly slow pace. Had you your way, you would turn those hours into minutes.

“ When did you get back? “ You ask with a beam, your eyes more colourful than ever.

“ A few hours back. Got ‘nough supplies till a group can go out. “ Daryl answers simply, moving to lean against the railing of the guard tower.

“ You know, you could have taken one of us along. “ You offer, hoping the need is left out of your voice.

Uttered only to Maggie, you’d divulged your fear of losing people. The fear of never seeing those you’ve grown close to clouds your senses, the beating of your heart unable to rest until they are in your line of sight — a thought that if you go with them, you can do something constantly swirls in your vision. Of course, you know that won’t always be the case, but it’s all you can think of when your family temporarily misses a few members.

Winter had brought many challenges, and there had been times when you’d see them come back with scrapes and bruises that would leave your heart aching.

“ Nah, needed to do this by myself. “

“ You sick of us already, Dixon? “ There's a coating of humour as you question him, a smile accompanies your word hand in hand to assure him there’s nothing but humour.  “ I’m telling you now, you’re never allowed to be sick of me at least. “

“ You’d be the first person I’d have’ta get out of my hair. “ He answers back with a gruff, his hand reaches up to ruffle your hair slightly.

“ Don’t be so mean. “ You whine, pushing his hand back with a short burst of laughter with a richness that could rival the purest of golden honey.

A silence overtakes the two of you after the rare display of playfulness that you know most would not associate with the rough looking hunter of the group. It’s in these moments you find yourself looking up and feeling your heart full to the brim with an intense amount of gratitude, that he’s comfortable enough around you to allow you to peek into a different side of the man. This is not something you will ever take for granted.

“ You come back with much today? Or did it look like vultures have hit the spots? “

“ Wasn’t too bad. “ Daryl responds, shaking his head as he speaks. “ We got enough for a while, till we can get a group out. “

“ Hopefully we can make a home out of this place, I don’t think I can take any more of this moving about. “ You confide weakly, your nails pick at each other as you remember the time between the farm and the prison.

Daryl agrees with a huff, the winter had been hard on everyone in the group. The more he studies everyone in the group, the more differences he can see between them and those who had been on the farm. No one is the same as the people they were months prior. Daryl argues that is for the better, a certain amount of ruthlessness is now a tool required to breathe for an extra day in this world.

“ Ain’t my idea of home, but beggars can’t be choosers now. “

“ If we weren’t, I’m sure we’d all be in one of those huge mansions now. “ you sigh heavily, yearning for all the comforts you had come accustomed to. They are long gone now.

“ Y’know, I came back with sumn’ for ‘ya. “ Daryl starts, rugged fingertips descend to reach into his pocket, touching the plastic wrapper that protects the sweet treat. “ ‘Don’t know if y’want it though. “

Your eyes light up at the possibility of a gift, they rival the stir of the stars in the night sky that illuminate the darkness with their might. They may as well cower from the blinding shine as they witness the colourful wrapper come into your view, the audible crinkle brings out a quiet giggle with the grace of a ballet dancer as it twirls away into the air.

“ This is for me? “ You confirm, your hand hesitantly reaches towards his as if waiting for him to tell you that he is playing a silly joke on you.

Only that doesn’t occur.

“ Yeah.. I remembered a while back y’said that ‘ya wanted one. “ Daryl explains as he hands you the chocolate bar, the other hand reaching back to rake his nails against the back of his neck — almost as a distraction technique. “ Thought y’might’a forgot. “

Your teeth plunge deeply into our bottom lip, attempting to quell the grin that is moments from overtaking your features. Even if he’d been unsuccessful in apprehending the chocolate, even the thought that he remembers such a trivial conversation is enough to send a burst of adoration further than any galaxy reached by the heart of a dying star.

“ Daryl.. “ A whisper is spoken as you begin, turning  your sight upwards to meet the man. “ You didn’t have to. “

“ Wasn’t any trouble. “

“ Thank you. “ Gratitude is expressed, you speak with a warmth in your words as you do. “ I mean it. “

Daryl doesn’t speak, it’s not a case of having nothing to say, but rather what he should say. His actions are not done with the intent of receiving appreciation, he does it because he wants to and in his mind, is what’s right. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, unable to take in the intensity of the affection sent his way.

The attention of the hunter is lifted back into reality as he feels a weight against his, arms tangle themselves behind his back and strands from a headful of hair tickle his nose as he realises you’re currently hugging him. The change is slow as he tentatively relaxes into the action, it’s so faint the two of you barely realise it’s happening until a weight sits lightly on each side of your body. He has never realised until now how much he has needed human contact that comes with no ties until now, a connection that doesn’t hinge on the deal of giving and taking as a nothing more than a cold transaction. A content breath of air slowly tiptoes away into the weak breeze that blows through the prison at a leisurely pace, of course, the air does nothing to suppress the heat that burns the cheeks of the man.

“ ‘S nothin’. “

“ Daryl, even if you came back with nothing, you still had the thought there. “ You stress from your position, your grip tightening on the man. “ You wanna share this with me, or what? “

As the night marches on, you wonder if the chocolate could ever be sweeter than one Daryl Dixon. Though, in your heart, you know that may be a fight easily lost against him.

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead imagine #daryl x reader #daryl imagine

[professorspork]

Hot take, perhaps, but if/when Penny 3.0 happens I don't think she should have Floating Array, etherial or otherwise. It's just too bound up with her self-image as a Weapon instead of a Person. If Penny gets a sword, it needs to be a sword she can put down.

This is-- a fascinating take! I’m not sure I agree with it, but I think there’s some meaty ideas here worth unpacking. And I do think we agree on the fundamental premise (i.e. Penny’s autonomy needs to be foregrounded above all).

You assert that Penny’s current problem is that she sees herself as a Weapon and not a Person, and I don’t think that’s exactly the case. 

One of the things I admire most about Penny is is that when people try and tell her who (or, insultingly, what) she is, she quietly but assertively refutes them. Though early on her conviction in her own personhood was somewhat shaky, when her friends encouraged her she took it to heart. After Ruby “I Love You And Your Beautiful Soul” Rose told her that she was real and Winter “Everyone’s Feelings Are Valid Except For Mine” Schnee told her that her opinions mattered, she got-- really quite bullish about this. To illustrate:

Random citizen: It's Ironwood's robot! Robyn: [suspicious] Penny. Penny: I-- I didn't! [7.06, A Night Off]

Vine: I thought you were supposed to protect the people, not hurt them. Penny: I would never hurt anyone. Elm: Well Winter’s in critical condition, because of you. Harriet: And you repaid her by stealing the power that should have been hers. Penny: But taking the Maiden power was the only way to stop-- [8.03, Strings]

Cinder: You’re just a tool to be used! Penny: You do not know what you are talking about. ... Cinder: I don’t serve anyone. And you wouldn’t either, if you weren't built that way. Penny: That is not… I choose to fight for people who care about me. [8.05, Amity]

Which isn’t to say Penny isn’t prone to self-doubt, because she absolutely is, or that Penny doesn’t have a self-sacrifice streak a mile wide, because she absolutely does. But Penny wouldn’t have that reflexive, Janet-saying-“Not-a-girl”-style reaction to people telling her she’s nothing but a weapon unless she genuinely thought they were wrong. She’s not defensive, in these moments, even though she’s defending herself. She’s certain.

Maybe this is me splitting hairs with your argument, but I don’t think Penny’s issue is that she sees herself as a weapon. It’s that she sees herself as a hero. Not just a soldier, but THE soldier. The Protector of Mantle. She’s not Winter; she’s not most comfortable when she’s got orders she can hide behind so she can reassure herself she’s doing the right thing because someone else already did that math. She’s-- she’s Spider-Man. She feels a tremendous responsibility to save everyone she can, because that’s what you do. And yes that’s also, literally, what she was built for, so I can see where the argument is coming from, but I think it matters that the argument’s being made about someone from Remnant.

And on Remnant, your weapon is an extension of who you are.

We’ve never, as far as I can remember, seen anyone straight up switch their weapon. Ironwood made the nuke attachment for his pistols, but it’s still Due Process underneath. Maria only carries one of her two canes, now, but she didn’t make any design changes. Same with Yang and (lefty) Ember Celica. Jaune gave Crocea Mors substantial upgrades, but it’s fundamentally the same weapon; Blake chose to solder Gambol Shroud back together rather than replace it... and if anyone had an argument that using the same weapon might be too traumatic, it would be her. I mean, hell, the Messrs Oz have been using the same staff for millennia.

Weapons aren’t something you turn your back on. I don’t think it’s something that would occur to people. It would be like-- like turning off your Aura. That’s you. 

Unless, of course, you’re Cinder.

Cinder gave up on Midnight after the Beacon arc, and we’ve never seen it since. She relies exclusively on Maiden weapons instead-- some of which she molds into forms quite similar to her old swords or bow, but still. She tossed it aside. This follows the logic of the show: Cinder discarded the weapons, and with them the person she used to be, when she found it all to be lacking. Instead, she embraces what she sees as a higher form of power.

I don’t think Penny would think of Floating Array that way; as a sign of her failure. Nor do I think she’d see it as the prophesy/burden your take implies.

Granted, Watts used a sword from Floating Array in order to get access to her code and install the virus; it ended up being the vector for a huge breach of autonomy and violation of consent. But so was Tyrian using Harbinger to murder Clover, and Qrow’s still using it.

And granted, Penny didn’t choose Floating Array in the same way most people chose or designed their own weapons. She was born with it; activated combat-ready. But then, that’s not so different from Jaune inheriting Crocea Mors, is it? It might not be what either of them would have selected or been most suited for if they’d had the chance to say for themselves at the start, but... well, we’re far from the start, now. And Penny does choose Floating Array, when it matters. When she conjures weapons in her new, self-created body, she instinctively reaches for what she knows, what’s familiar. Her father’s providence. So for me, the moment you’re alluding to... it’s already happened. The whole point of leveraging Ambrosius’ limitations in the way they did is that Penny is separated from the parts of her that can be weaponized-- she watches her synthetic body eat itself, consumed by its own self-destructive urges. It doesn’t get much more metaphor-made-literal than that!

What remains, then, is Penny. And Penny uses Floating Array.

If Penny comes back and doesn’t resume the Winter Maidenhood (which I think is... low on the list of options, given Winter’s desperation and the likelihood that Maiden transference shenanigans are going to be a part of the vehicle that allows Penny to return in the first place), then she won’t have a choice. Either because that will mean she’s back in a 3.0 robot body (in which case it’s the same lack of choice she always had; Pietro wouldn’t give her an unfamiliar weapon after all that) or because she’s a Regular Normal Flesh Gal now and unless her Semblance is telekinesis (which it may be!!! we don’t know!!!) a weapon like Floating Array just isn’t on the table. But all of that, as I’ve already laid out, has to contend with so many unknown factors. How she comes back, and in what form, and at which time.

If Penny does end up designing a wholly new weapon, to me that would signal total transformation, given the rules and themes of the world. And that... well, it depends on the execution, I suppose, but I think I’d find that a little alarming. That she’d choose to have so little of her old self in her new form. But on the other hand, maybe I’m dead wrong there! That could also be read as yet another gorgeous act of creation by the Maiden best suited to it; it could be Penny choosing to yes-and herself into doubling down on her identity. She could be SO MUCH of a person that she, and she alone, gets to make a new weapon for her new self. I’m not against any of that! 

But even if that’s the case, I still think we’d see the hard light version of Floating Array again, especially if we have a Maidenbowl Redux. Even if I were to concede to your point that it’s too bound up in her self-image issues, that doesn’t imply to me that she’d have to move beyond it. If she’s to contend with herself, if she’s to decide she’s a person and not a weapon as you lay out, she’s going to put all of herself in the effort. As the speech goes, it’s a part of her. Even if it’s just a part, that’s still... a part. And this show has never been about severing yourself from your broken bits; it’s been about embracing them tenderly and letting them actually heal.

...also, Floating Array is *checks notes* cool. 

#rwby #penny polendina #Anonymous

[shewhowillnotbenamed1]

I wanted to get this ‘Valentine’s Day’ piece out, even though it’s massively, supremely late. 😭It’s part of a longer piece (because I couldn’t stop writing it😶) and I’m still not sure whether or not it’s not terrible.😖

prompt list

-------

This couldn't be right.

Damian almost did a double take, his cool smirk withering when he glanced up, transfixed by the sleek storefront at the cross streets where he stood. Why on earth would Raven be in a place like this?

The building towered above the tottering sea of gray, black and blue below. And the mannequins in the display lorded over their dominion, propped loftily on their perches, arms and legs of impractical proportions, stilted at absurd angles.

And why would she summon him here?

His trousers began to buzz audibly and the shifting crowd of passersby jostled him closer to the glass. Damian delivered the faceless caricatures of the female form a final foreboding glare, before he reached down to free the device vibrating in his pocket. New Message. Raven. Apparently, it was urgent. He tapped the speech bubble icon with a fingertip and his jaw went slack.

I Need You.

The three words seemed etched into the surface of the screen. And they were more than enough to get him to take a deep breath and grasp the curved door handle, his jaw set, and wingtips marching determinedly onward.

The atmosphere inside the store was even more unexpected than the outside. When translated, the pounding music and low lighting read as more nightclub than boutique. It was completely impractical in Damian's view—how could anyone locate a price tag, let alone see the item they were intending to purchase? Although, after a few minutes of skulking around in the dark, he could see how the implementation of such a design was advantageous. With stealthiness like his, he wasn't in danger of being accosted by overly helpful employees hungry for commissions, before he located the heading of a dramatic script that read Dressing Rooms, and turned underneath it.

Down the row each stall had a flood light stationed above it, but only one appeared to be presently occupied: the corner room at the farthest end of the hall. And as he got closer he noticed it also appeared to be the largest. Damian glanced behind him and rapped on the door with a knuckle. And just as he began to wonder if he'd needed some sort of special knock or password prepared, the lock glowed black and unlatched itself.

"I'm here." The door creaked open and the floor groaned under his solid weight. Damian turned swiftly to shut it, growing steadily concerned.

"So what is it? What's the—big emergency..." He started, but his tongue began to feel heavy and leaden inside his rapidly drying mouth. And his eardrums began to beat violently until they matched the thumping of his maddened heart.

Red.

Blood red.

Burning. Blinding. Blazing.

In the carpet, the walls, the curtains, the chandelier.

It was everywhere—even in the deafening pounding hammering away at his head.

Thundering images suspended before him, going in and out of focus. They were searing his eyes, blearing his vision. In sinful shapes marred over pale flesh, it was red repeating over and over. Criss-crossing crimson. Damian had to dig his fingernails into his palms to ground himself with the tangibility of a familiar sensation.

And suddenly he realized that all the times before were incomparable, this was what it meant to be blindsided by a breath-taking blow. This was what it meant to receive a rush of blood to the head…

…or a rush of blood to the—

"I'm glad you came so quickly."

And the silhouette of Raven turned where she sat on a velvet ottoman, leaning forward in a way that was guaranteed to diffuse away the rest of his brain's processing ability. It was all he could do not to goggle at her like some cartoon character. Tawdry and tactless. Damian inwardly cursed the merciless Goddess above as he took in the cleavage created by cups, a series of straps and bows and elastic and he didn't know what. Only that he shouldn't have been so disarmed by it—by Raven's breasts pushed up to high-heaven. Like they weren't perky enough or distracting enough in their usual sheath of simple black cotton.

His wide emerald eyes strayed downward in spite of themselves and onto shapely, stocking clad legs folded one over the other, with a lace-up heel tapping out the bass of the synth pop bleeding into the background. Raven slid to her feet seamlessly, swaying slightly to the song. She took a single step, allowing the shadows to part for her as she did so.

There was a muted click, clack, click of her heels on the carpet as she drew near. He'd never seen her in stilettos, and he stared at them through slits.

Gods, they had to be four inches at least. Their impressive height only seemed to serve to make her look even more powerful. Just about as powerful as the force rooting him to the spot.

The deep panging in Damian's chest carried on, a racehorse charging from the starting gate, galloping faster and faster, as she grew closer and closer.

Suddenly he'd become aware of the fact that it was far too warm in here for the dead of winter. Or was it simply that Raven radiated such an intense heat?

Most definitely the latter.

The garnet colored lace gracing Raven's skin was a perfect match to her chakra stone. The semi-sheer fabric of her bra offered up a playful glimpse of the darker skin of her nipples beneath. When his gaze wound down her tapering waist, it appeared that the lack of opaqueness carried over to the front of her panties. He could just make out a little shadow—a promise laying underneath a tempting, well-kept diamond shape in plum wine. And last, but certainly not least were the thigh highs trimmed by garnet lacings and affixed to a red and black garter.

Damian's throat had somehow gone even drier. He tried to swallow with great difficulty, then tugged at his turtleneck for a reprieve.

However, there would be no such alleviation for his trousers.

"There's no emergency, Damian..." Raven assured him with a tilt of her head, lilac tendrils skating across a valley between pale peaks. "You'll have to forgive me, but I had to get you here. I had to know..." She paused, folding her arms as she prepared to pose a question to him. "Tell me... what do you think...of my outfit?"

Damian froze, fingers mid-tug and blinked several times as if he'd been struck dumb.

What?

That wasn't...

There was no way...

Was that a serious request?

She was being facetious—she had to be. It was the only explanation, unless Raven was somehow messing with his mind and Damian sincerely doubted that. But how could she ask him this with such bold-faced sincerity? Even if the wooden arch behind her housed a funhouse mirror and had been reflecting distorted proportions back at her. Or was there actually some warped reality in which they weren't looking at the same picture?

Although...

If he could muster up a voice to speak he would have asked, what outfit?

Lackadaisically, she trailed a hand down her body, tugging at the cups spilled over with supple skin. "The bra—do you like the pattern?" Raven traced the gorge between the swell of her breasts. "It's tulle and...French lace," she confirmed, squeezing the scant, semi-sheer embroidery molded to her chest. And Damian grimaced as though in physical pain.

"No?" she assessed, seemingly marking off boxes on a mental checklist. Raven smoothed her hands over her hips for a moment, appearing to be lost in thought. She paced slowly, revolving a full three-hundred and sixty degrees to pause with her back to him.

"And what about..." She swept a purple curtain over the nape of her neck to glance over her shoulder and he saw—of all things—a bow below the dimples on her back, nestled into the heart-shaped curve of her ass. "My panties...?"

Damian gritted his teeth, though not before letting a sound escape, like a hiss coupled with a wince.

"Are these okay?" The soft profile of her lips pressed.

Gods, it was almost as if she were seeking to offer all of this up to him. And who needed to clarify anything when she was all wrapped up and presented? Covered in the finest cardstock wrappings in gold-flecked marble, then laced up with champagne silk ribbon to await her unravelling.

Though his own would be more likely.

Right now, he'd forsake all his names, both Wayne and Al Ghul to get her to stop. Stop slinking closer, stop speaking in that sweet, scratchy undertone, and stop directing his focus to her various attributes, more than it already was.

It would only make his growing pain more pronounced.

A pale hand dangled down and spread across a smooth, silken thigh. "My stockings, then?" Raven hummed.

Though, Damian didn't speak. He wasn't entirely certain he was still breathing. Somehow, he'd managed to remain motionless and drag his unwilling eyes toward the floor. All his carefully constructed control was necessary to keep himself calm and centered in this moment. He could do this—he had to do this. Otherwise, what was the point of all those long years of training he'd endured?

Shiny purple strands bobbed; she'd started to shake her head slowly at the stony silence from the stoic cashmere wall standing before her, as if she expected as much.

"I bet you're still wondering why I called you here." Damian heard her voice go up in the middle, which it did whenever she was apprehensive or unsure. "I wanted you here to find out what you like—exactly what you like." When he arrived, Raven was blushing a delicious pink, so by now it had to be a violent red. "I wanted to get it right because...you're the first person, or only person I've ever been intimate with in any world, dimension, or universe..." She lingered.

And once again, Damian said nothing, and she resumed speaking.

"I do know that this is something that one does traditionally." Raven paused to worry her already cherry-red bottom lip. "That couples do... Buying underwear for your significant other is supposed to be something special, particularly for this holiday."

He was a mountain, immobile, unwavering...

"Oh, I see..." Her mouth set into a line. "Perhaps, it's the fit—or is it the color...?" Raven's large amethyst eyes swept over the room and landed on her reflection. "I thought dark red was classic. I knew I shouldn't have listened to Donna. I should have gotten something in black." She dragged a distraught hand through dark purple. "It's too much...or maybe it's not enough..."

"Don't," Damian growled low. His inflection was level and gave nothing away. If Raven was surprised by the outburst, she didn't let on, instead she continued.

"I bet the old string of socialites shuffling in and out of the manor were never caught dead in skivvies that weren't Kiki de Montparnasse or at least Agent Provocateur. But this..." Raven lifted her chin toward the mirror. "It's not your taste though, is it?"

That was far more than enough.

Far more than he could stand to hear and far more than he could stand to bear.

When his eyes flew back to hers at last, they weren't steely anymore, they burned—whittling her retinas down like they were wicks on candlesticks. As if he were all but telling her he dared her to do that again, to say that again.

"It's okay. I'm glad I found out before I bought—"

"I said...don't." Damian placed his hands on her wrists and whisked her right up to his chest. And he closed his eyes. He skimmed his lips along the length of hers like it was something sacred, his mouth trembling as Raven muffled out a note denoting her surprise.

He murmured to her, "you're brilliant, deadly beautiful—an empath...and for some reason unbeknownst to me, I'm your blindspot." Damian sighed resolutely. "But Raven, can't you take pity on me? I'm still a man." One that had been barely keeping it together since he arrived, but... "And you're you, so..."

There was no way in any world, dimension, or universe that he could ever resist.

Purple eyes grew wider as he told her and lifted a finger to her chin. Then it was Damian turning the tables and tipping her mouth towards his own. And though he hungered for her, he took slow and sweet and gentle grazes. It was tortuous, but he should only have a little at a time. This was an excess of an impossibly decadent dessert, an indulgence he was undeserving of. It was like the power in his sub zero freezer had short-circuited and he had no choice but to guzzle down that buried pint of vanilla caramel gelato.

Though who could blame him for being greedy when he had all of this spread out before him? And when her ass in those panties even resembled two round, creamy spoonfuls.

To hell with it then.

Damian lunged, face forward, longing for more of her. In an instant, he was inhaling her pulse, intaking the scent of leather-bound books with aged pages and the nectar from plums she'd probably narrowly avoided dripping on them. He dipped his tongue along the hollow of her collarbone as if he sought to test this.

"Mmm, that's nice."

"Nice?" Damian scoffed, his eyes on hers. "That's not what I was going for. Surely you didn't wear this because you wanted me to be nice." At the present, he wanted nothing more than to rip the tiny pieces of lace into twos, but Raven had selected them specifically for him. So he would continue to be patient and continue to savor this.

Let the pieces of fabric hold up for as long as he could hold out.

"Wait a moment," Raven gasped, quickly clutching his arm. "So your present...?"

"Present? Tch..." Damian's lip curled under his front teeth and he let out a piercing click. "If you're seriously considering getting me a present..." His palms glided down her chest and he gathered a scoop of softness in either hand. "Then these are perfect," he whispered in her ear.

And then Damian's mouth pushed back into hers and he was kissing her in ways that would make it impossible to return this lingerie after trying it on. He nipped urgently to gain entrance to her castle, then trapped her lip between his teeth like it was a drawbridge, at last releasing her tongue to collide with his own. All the while, his thumbs were sliding over her nipples, which puckered and pointed at his touch. He pushed up the cups of her bra for better access, head inclined towards his goal, soon to be met by a full mouth.

Each brush of his lips on Raven's chest made her fingers clench further and further into his shirt like it was a life preserver, and she was in danger of losing herself to the depths.

And after all, wasn't this the answer that she'd wanted from this—that she needed from him?

A chance to lose herself.

To stand in a dressing room in his arms, moaning his name like a breathy spell, her body bending until her back was arched under the avid swipes of tongue. He tugged her nipples between his teeth and they reddened, their response a glowing rave.

Yes.

Raven's eyelids squeezed, her pink face contorting in pleasure while Damian enjoyed the full weight of her breasts in his hands. He continued polishing the plush, pink rings. Left then right—until they were glistening.

"Gods, Damian..." Raven groaned. "Just—"

Just as sudden, there was a wet noise, a slip of suction. Damian had released a rosy nipple, taking note of Raven's expression. Hungry and dazed, and all his doing. Whether unconsciously or not, she pressed her legs together, clenching them as she watched Damian slip off the left sleeve of his coat and let it crumple to the ground in a heap.

The glaze of her gaze, her diaphragm's continuous rise and fall, her fingers digging into his arm, she needed this.

So why deny her?

"Yes, these are beautiful..." He whispered as he admired his handiwork under the chandelier light. The way the red nips and bites were like Damian Wayne watermarks upon the pale flesh. "But perhaps..." Damian's hands glided freely down the small of her back, just over the hill of her ass and stroked the burgundy bow, like an X marking the spot. "This."

When Damian glanced down at Raven, she was barely biting back another mewl, and moving restlessly in his arms. "I wonder what would happen if I were to pull this bow... Raven what do you think?"

"Damian... We shouldn't..." Raven murmured, sounding somewhat apprehensive and holding the fabric at his back tightly.

"Yes, we should Raven," he rasped darkly. "Right now, I can't seem to think of a reason why not..."

"Well, there's the fact that we're in public—"

"Public," Damian repeated flatly. "What of it? The outside world ceased to exist the second I entered the door of my own little version of Narnia."

Raven's jaw had unhinged in unmasked shock and Damian supposed this was an instance to take her remaining breath away by kissing her. Yes, he'd walked through a door and suddenly he was laying eyes on his half-naked demoness dangerous in dark red. So clearly nothing else in creation mattered.

When he pulled away her lips opened and closed, while her eyes remained shut, like a thirsty traveler prematurely cut off from a longer drink. And even though it seemed her body knew the truth, a darker part of him wanted her to beg for it.

"But, that's not what I asked," he said with a hard smile that wasn't. Damian drummed a divot on her lower back. "I fear I've gotten ahead of myself again. Tell me about the bow, Raven. What happens if I pull it?" His hand jutted out, he made a motion with his fingers, in mimicry of it.

"Why ask when you know the answer?" Raven asked him, her brow rising shakily.

"I could have asked you the same earlier. But..."

"But?"

Raven bit her lip but made no motion to stop his hands from climbing onto the curve of her ass. He taunted her twice, by tugging lightly on the tulle, until at last... The bow in the back came loose, and her panties slid down her legs with ease. She secured one pale thigh tightly over the other to hide herself.

No bottoms and bra half-undone, she was nothing short of delicious.

Though that scrap of fabric had barely covered much of anything, so why bother to tease? Or hadn't that been the sole purpose of this outfit?

A devious smirk sidled onto Damian's face as he realized something: these were the exact kind of underwear that one put on simply to take off.

"I pulled the bow, Raven," he murmured almost mockingly. "Don't I at least get to see the rest of my present?"

She stared up at him through her soot colored lashes and slowly opened her thighs.

#damirae #demonbirds #damian wayne #raven roth #raven #teen titans #dcau #damian x raven #me #fanfiction #writing #dc comics #dc #titans #raven and damian #damian and raven #lingerie #sort of valentines day #valentines day #valentines day 2021 #dressing room #very late #💌💌💌

[yumeyooa]

02—there’s magic in the air | sugawara koushi

—as per royal tradition, prince sugawara koushi, second in line to the throne of the kingdom of corvus, is to spend one whole spring in the kingdom of angora, strengthening relations between the two neighbouring kingdoms. but while exploring the forests of the otherwise mysterious land, he comes across a rather curious stranger, gracing the woodlands with her whimsical tunes and enigmatic melodies. The more they meet, the more enchanted he becomes and sugawara soon finds himself diving deep into her everything; not knowing of the dangerous wonders that would befall him the more he falls

➢  pairing: sugawara koushi x female! reader

➢ genre: fluff | angst | royal au | supernatural au | strangers to lovers | prince! sugawara | rated 15

➢ word count: 7.9k+

➢  warning: use of she/her pronouns | really big eagles | magic(?)

➢ love letter: i’m a day late but i’m finally finished with chapter 2! so many new characters ahhhh i hope you all like it and let me know what you think hehe :>> reblogs are highly appreciated

want to be tagged? send in an ask!

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Sugawara says nothing at first, caught in a stare-off with the frightened stranger, unsure of what to say. As a reflex, he throws his hands up in the air slightly, trying to come off as harmless. But it’s no use, as his stature and aura alone are enough to startle the poor girl.

“I apologize,” Sugawara says as he finally gathers his thoughts. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just enchanted by the wonderful music you were playing just now….” 

His words make the girl relax ever so slightly, even though she still looks at him with wary eyes. “W-who are you?” She asks again, backing up to the tree as Sugawara tries to take the first few steps to approach her. 

“My name is P—“ Sugawara halts, thinking to himself. Would it be a good idea to introduce himself as a prince right away? What if the girl gets startled? Or perhaps hostile even? There were so many things Sugawara wanted to ask her, he couldn’t just let her slip away because of his status. 

“My name is Koushi,” he says instead, showing a bright, kind smile. “I was exploring when I heard your music, so I came over to find the source. I truly mean no harm, miss.” 

The girl’s eyes stare at him in disbelief, and Sugawara can only watch patiently as the girl slowly takes him in. She stands up, walking towards him cautiously as if she were afraid that any moment he would run out and steal her away from the world she had come to know. 

“Your attire,” the girl mutters, looking him up and down. “Are you perhaps of noble descent?” 

If it wasn’t for the fact that Sugawara had been paying attention to the girl for quite some time, he would have probably missed that slightly hostile tone in her voice. It was evident that, for whatever reason, the girl held a grudge against the nobility. What more if royalty? Even if he were a prince of another country, he was still a prince. That simple fact wouldn’t change. 

“Unfortunately no,” Sugawara says, cringing at the way he was quickly deceiving the innocent girl. “I am merely an attendant of one.” 

Even at that, the girl’s eyes look up at him, this time with more caution laced into them. “And whom do you serve?” She asks, waiting with bated breath. 

“A noble of another kingdom, miss,” he replies, pleasantly surprised at how well he was able to keep his emotions in check. Perhaps he could consider engaging in the art of theatre once he returned to his hometown. It was always a pleasure to delve into new hobbies. But this wasn’t the time for that. 

“Another kingdom?” The girl repeats, confused. “Whatever are nobles from another kingdom doing here?” 

“For a delegation, miss,” Sugawara says, stunned at how well the girl carried herself. It was almost as if she weren’t a commoner at all with how her confidence was beginning to grow with each passing second. “A trip, if you will. My kingdom and yours have exchanged nobles for the spring to fulfill a promise made long ago.” 

The girl hums, eyes widening in realization. “Is that the reason why the city has become so festive lately?” 

“Most likely,” Sugawara says, shrugging. “Unless there is another festivity of the kingdom during the spring that I am unaware of….”

“No,” the girl mutters, shaking her head. “Unfortunately, there is not.” She stays silent for a while, looking at Sugawara before finally sighing, giving the prince a bashful grin. “I apologize, sir Koushi, for my rude behavior. It’s been a while since I last encountered a stranger….”

Her words make Sugawara raise his eyebrow in confusion. What did she mean by that? He wonders to himself. Why would he be the first stranger she’s seen in a while when citizens of the capital fare just beyond the forest?

But well, he figured, The forest is vast and wide. The miss must have been sheltered in the palace. Perhaps she is the daughter of one of the servants? 

“But nevertheless!” The girl suddenly exclaims, startling Sugawara out of his trance. “You mentioned you followed the sound of the music, correct?” 

“Yes,” Sugawara replied, nodding his head enthusiastically. “In all honesty, I had heard your melody a few days ago and just couldn’t get it out of my mind… It was spectacular! The moment I heard it again, I just had to see who was behind such artistry!” 

Flustered, the girl looks to the ground, not knowing what to say. “Thank you,” she mutters after a while, avoiding matching gazes with the prince. “But are you certain that you heard the sound I had just played?” 

It’s strange, Sugawara thinks to himself. What could she possibly mean by that? “Yes, I am certain,” he says, confusion seeping out of him. “Is there a reason for me not to be?” 

Sugawara watches as the girl fidgets where she stands, before taking a deep breath and gently taking Sugawara’s hand into hers, dragging him towards the piano, which as Sugawara had assumed moments prior, was worn out and broken, in a state where it would have ordinarily been impossible to use. 

“This piano is old,” the girl says, tracing her hands through the dusty keys. “Very old, much older than I am. And as you can see, it’s broken and withered and shouldn’t be able to produce any sound at all, yet….”

The girl sits down on the rusty chair, taking a deep breath before playing a few notes. “When I play, despite not knowing how to, it makes a sound. I’ve tried showing others the beauty of it, but they are unable to hear. You are the first I’ve ever encountered that could hear its melody….” 

Sugawara remains frozen where he stands, eyes swelled in shock as he takes the girl’s words in. There was so much to process. First of all, was she meaning to say that she had absolutely no knowledge of how to play the piano, yet she was able to conjure up a magnificent melody, just like that? What kind of sorcery was this? Is this, too, one of the magical attributes of the Kingdom of Angora?

Second, whatever did she mean by him being the first to hear it? That made absolutely no sense. But then again, it did all the same. Sugawara recalls how Yamaguchi reacted when he first told him about this enchanting melody. It was a melody he couldn’t hear despite Sugawara hearing it clear as day. He thought he was delusional for a second, but if the girl’s words were true, then it meant that for some strange reason, the beaten-up piano in front of him had been enchanted with magic. 

How peculiar….

The girl, on the other hand, not sure of what to make of Sugawara’s reaction, looks at him with uncertain eyes. “I know that my words seem like nonsense,” she mutters, “But believe me when I say they are true.” 

It’s strange. If this were any normal circumstance, Sugawara would have scoffed and accused the girl of lying. But he couldn’t find the heart in him to do so. The genuine sincerity in her eyes didn’t help either as they looked at him with such passion and determination as if they were trying with their whole being to convince Sugawara that she was indeed telling the truth. 

“I suppose there is some sense to your words….” Sugawara says, somewhat teasingly. He tried to hide it to the best of his abilities, but it was no use. The moment he saw the slightly distraught expression on the girl’s face, he couldn’t help himself. He let out a chuckle, something he hadn’t done in a while with all the heavy burdens weighing on his shoulders, and smiled, much to the girl’s confusion. 

“I’m sorry, are you laughing?” She asks, startled and confused. Sugawara’s grin only widens, amused at the whole situation. “And if I am?” He playfully asks, watching as the girl’s expression molds into one of exasperation, not quite sure what to make of his playful banter. 

“May I ask why?” She finally says, looking at him, concerned. “I don’t believe this is a matter to laugh about….” 

It’s oddly refreshing, Sugawara thinks to himself. The girl’s reaction is a first for him. For so long, Sugawara had been faced with people who held themselves up with such extensive egos that Sugawara just wanted to grab them by the hair and bring them back down to earth, as gracefully as his status could allow. He had to keep up with their foolish little games, fake smiles, and awfully hidden intentions. 

But there was something so interesting about the apparent innocence she portrayed. Sure, she seemed wary and cautious of him initially, but he couldn’t hold that against her. He would, too, if he randomly encountered a stranger in the woods. But it was that strange naivety and child-like behavior that made her inexplicably stand out within the few short moments he got to know her. 

“Fret not,” Sugawara says, smiling at the puzzled girl. “I was merely playing with you for a moment…” the realization that falls into the girl’s eyes is all too precious. “I believe you, no matter how ridiculous your words maybe.”

The girl pouts, obviously bummed by the fact that she had gotten played by a stranger she barely knew. She sulked, turning her back to Sugawara, and averting her gaze back to the ancient piano that had been her only source of entertainment for a short while, getting lost in thought. The silence is quite calming, and Sugawara observes the girl as she gazes softly at the worn instrument as if it were a newborn child, eyes holding great care and affection. 

Everything about this whole situation is unusual. A girl in the woods who knew nothing about the piano playing the most gorgeous tune from the tips of her fingertips and gracing the ears of those who could listen to it. If Sugawara didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he was living in a fairy tale. But this was reality. And what reality was telling him at the moment was that sometimes the truth could be quite… whimsical. 

“How long have you known about this?” He asks as he makes his way closer, basically hovering over the girl as he curiously observes the piano underneath him. The girl, mildly startled, looks up at him with an inquisitive gaze before smiling softly, gently caressing the ragged keys. “I’m afraid I’m not sure,” she whispers. “I have no sense of time, you see… All I know is that I came across this beauty one day and haven’t stopped visiting since.”

Strange. How could the girl not have a sense of time? It was pretty unusual. Time was something he considered of utmost importance, especially as a royal. He couldn’t afford to waste any; that would be a disgrace not only to his status but to his dignity as a human being. How curious it was to meet such a person who didn’t consider time to be of vital priority, 

Sugawara hums, unsure of what to say. He observes the girl for a few moments, taking in the way she looks at the old instrument as if it were the most glorious thing ever known to mankind. He had never seen such a look on anyone else before. It was both captivating and intriguing to him. 

“Well then,” Sugawara finally says, mustering up the courage to speak as the girl turns to him with another inquiring glance. “Would it be alright if I could request for you to play again? Your music is absolutely charming, miss.”

There’s a glimmer that sparks in the girl’s eyes as she quickly nods and settles down on the chair in front of her, hands hovering over the keys, before taking a deep breath. Now that he’s closer, Sugawara can see the way the girl almost changes, as if playing has drawn her into a trance that no one could ever bring her out of but herself. It’s amusing to Sugawara, but just as he’s about to comment on it, her eyes open, her gaze changing into a more serene one, and her hands finally settle on the keys, commencing her play. 

And up close, Sugawara is blown away even more. 

Every note is crisp and clear as they dance together in harmony to produce a lovely tune that moves his heart into tears. Sugawara was sure that if he had to associate a sound to the heavens above, this is what he would call it. It was as if he had stepped into paradise, introduced to the true beauty of the world. Even his surroundings changed, as hard as it was to believe. 

It was like nature itself was singing, thriving on the music that fell from the girl’s gentle fingertips. Life surged through the leaves and the branches and the breeze that caressed the surface with its calm wind. The colors waltzed around him. The bold greens, timid yellows, and proud blues blended together to create a view that Sugawara swears even the best artists could never capture. 

It was so much more brilliant. Raw, surreal, and marvelous to the point that Sugawara didn’t even notice that the girl had finished, too stunned to form the words. She looked up at the clearly awed man with a flustered look of her own, not expecting him to be as amazed as he was. She didn’t necessarily think her music was extraordinary. Heck, she just let it flow through her naturally, as if someone had lit up a switch inside of her. 

The girl didn’t quite understand it herself, but she was glad that it made others happy. Or at least she hoped it did. 

“How was it?” She asks even though she had the gut feeling about the answer based on the shocked look plastered on his face. But who knows? The shock could mean he was appalled with how terrible it sounded. Even if he was a mere servant of a noble from another kingdom, there was a chance that he was well versed in music. What if her music was so horrible that he would wish to never hear or see from her again?

“Incredible…” is all Sugawara says, mouth still hanging in awe. He was right to chase after her music. He was right to pursue it. The girl was a talent that came once in a lifetime, a talent heavily blessed by the Ancient Ones. A diamond under the rough, even. How come her talent had never been discovered before? Did it have something to do with the fact that she claimed no one else could hear her? Why was that so? Was it the piano? If he were to bring her to another piano, would her music finally be heard? 

“...Absolutely Incredible,” he continues, staring at the girl with wide eyes as she looks up at him with sheepish ones. “So incredible, in fact, that I have nothing else to say.” His praises fluster her. No one’s ever complimented her this way before. It caused a warm feeling to bubble in her chest, blooming from within her as she smiled at him in happiness. 

“Thank you,” the girl says sincerely, eyes beaming as she smiles so wide she could feel her cheeks begin to hurt. Meeting Sugawara was honestly a breath of fresh air on her part. She had always hated aristocrats. They were stuck up rude, and as her caretaker pointed out, selfish. They only cared about themselves and the things that could be beneficial for them. But she could tell from the few moments she’s spent with Sugawara that he was different. And for now, it was a good kind of different. 

The girl was about to say more. To invite him to play with her because perhaps he was musically inclined himself? Maybe he could teach her a thing or two. She only played what her heart told you to but never truly learned how playing the piano actually worked. But it has always been a dream she wished to reach one day. Something she longed for desperately. Maybe Sugawara could be that teacher figure for her?

But then, from the corner of her eye, she spots a black cat staring at her from its position atop a tree branch, its eyes boring heavily into hers, and her blood runs cold. The girl stands up, much to Sugawara’s surprise, and frantically looks around before finally looking up at the sky and letting out a gasp of surprise. 

“Oh my,” she mutters, gathering up her skirt and hoisting her legs over the chair so she could stand up, dusting the dirt off of her dress. “Oh me, oh my,” 

“Miss?” Sugawara asks, confused at the girl’s frantic state. She pauses momentarily to stare at Sugawara like a deer caught in headlights, almost forgetting he had been there in the first place. “Is there something wrong?”

“Time,” is all she mutters as she takes a glance at the black cat who remains on top of the tree branch, seemingly glaring at her to get a move on. “I’m out of time. I’m late. Oh dear, Oh Heavens.”

In the midst of your panicking, Sugawara can’t help but be confused. What did she mean? Out of time for what? 

“I apologize, kind sir, but I have to go. If I’m late for another second— Oh! I don’t even want to think about it!” The girl bundles up her skirt within her hands once more as she begins to make her way to the opposite direction from where Sugawara came, but just before she can make a run from it, Sugawara reaches out his arm to grab her own, stopping the frantic girl momentarily. 

“Will you come back?” He asks, wishing to hear her beautiful melody once more. The girl looks at him, eyes darting from every which direction before nodding hastily, a forced smile on her face. “Of course, sire.” She says, nodding. “So long as there is music, I will be here.” 

And just like that, she leaves, not even turning back to give Sugawara a farewell wave. He doesn’t notice how the black cat from behind him disappears the moment she moves away from his line of sight. All he knows is the disappointment that gathers within his heart, settling deep within his bones. 

Especially considering how he didn’t even catch her name. 

“Good Morning Sire, I have brought you your morning tea,” Yamaguchi says as he enters Sugawara’s room with a cart alongside him. Sugawara nods in greeting as he basks in the morning sunlight shining on his suite’s balcony, clad in his morning robes as he tries to will the lingering sleep clinging unto him away. 

“Did you have a good sleep, your highness?” Yamaguchi asks as he sets down the teacup in front of him, grabbing the teapot in the process. “Today’s tea is a special green tea from the Kingdom of Reynard in the East. According to the servants from their delegation, this tea is perfect for energizing the body.” 

Sugawara hums as the fragrance of the tea wafts through the air and settles within him. Already he can feel his energy begin to load itself after the fatigue from the night before, and he shows a soft smile, offering his thanks to Yamaguchi. “What is our agenda for the day?” He asks, rolling his head to ease out the kinks that have formed prior. 

“Today, the Kingdom of Angora has prepared a special trip towards the Magic Academy. After breakfast, we are to depart immediately as it is quite a journey from the castle.” 

The Magic Academy? Sugawara muses to himself. How interesting.

Sugawara had highly anticipated the trip to the Magic Academy. Especially considering how the Kingdom of Angora was prominent in the field of magic. It was rumored that their Academy was top class and was way more advanced than any other academy in the world. According to the information gathered by his team, the director of the Academy was said to be directly blessed by the Ancient Ones. A chosen one, if you will. 

He wonders if the mysterious maiden he met was a chosen one too. 

It’s been a few days since his fateful encounter with her in the forest, and ever since then, he hasn’t been able to get her out of his mind. The yearning in his heart was too intense, unbearable at times. Sometimes he wished to abandon his duties just to venture out to the forest once more. But he knew that after the stunt he had pulled on Yamaguchi, he had to be wary. 

After all, he was still the leading representative of his kingdom. He was not about to blow it. 

Before he knows it, his quiet time comes and goes, and breakfast was just around the corner. Sugawara wished he could have just eaten within the comforts of his suite. He immensely enjoyed that cup of tea Yamaguchi had poured him. Although bitter, it did wonders in restoring the energy he needed for the day. It would have done him well to enjoy another cup while eating a delicious Angorian meal as he admired the view. 

But alas, breakfast was also a time when Prince Morisuke would brief them of their plans for the day and what they were to expect within the mini trip. Honestly, he could have left that part to the servants. But perhaps with this being the infamous Magic Academy on the line, the said prince felt the need to rise up to the occasion. 

Or at least that’s what it looked like.  

However, as much as Sugawara despised socializing, there were moments that he did find the daily breakfast enjoyable. Prince Morisuke was a charm to converse with, and Sugawara honestly found himself building a suitable friendship with him. Yet, he could never shake that strange feeling he got whenever he interacted with any member of the Angorian Royal Family. 

It was different from how he reacted to Duke Tooru and Marquess Yuji. Those two were way too easy to read, their intentions showing in their faces. And in a way, he quite enjoyed toying them, watching their faces fall in disappointment when he would reject their requests. 

But with the Angorian Royal Family, Sugawara felt unsettled. He couldn’t quite describe it. It was as if every fiber in his being was screaming at him to stray away from them and head back, even though at the surface, Sugawara could find no fault in them. 

And that, perhaps, was the most significant warning sign of all. 

But he ignores it, for now, plastering a fake smile as he engages in a pleasant conversation with Prince Morisuke, exchanging thoughts about a philosopher they both enjoyed, with Duke Shinsuke of the Kingdom of Reynard joining in. 

“I’ll have to thank you for introducing us to such exquisite tea, Duke Shinsuke,” Sugawara fawns, turning to the Duke that sat beside him with a pleased smile. “My butler poured me a cup before breakfast, and it was absolutely splendid.”

When Sugawara had found out that a delegation had arrived from the Kingdom of Reynard to establish trade relations with the Kingdom of Angora, Sugawara couldn’t help but be excited. Because as much as this was an opportunity for his kingdom’s more magically inclined ally, this was a perfect opportunity to help his own kingdom thrive as well. 

“My pleasure, your highness,” Duke Shinsuke comments with a small smile of his own forming on his lips. “Our green tea is the pride of the kingdom. It brings me great joy that you’ve enjoyed it. I’ll be sure to tell our servants to give you some spare supply should we have any.”

“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Sugawara says, genuinely excited. “Perhaps we should have some tea together? I do find our conversations pleasant and would gladly enjoy some more.”

“I am honored by your praise, your highness.” Duke Shinsuke says humbly, giving a slight nod. “Perhaps Prince Morisuke would like to join us as well? We would love to hear more about your nation’s history.” 

“Yes,” Sugawara agrees, although he tries to hide the disappointment that bursts from within him the moment Duke Shinsuke had proposed his suggestion. He truly did enjoy conversing with the stoic Duke, and he wouldn’t want that to be hindered by that unsettling feeling that continues to rise the more he stays in the presence of any member of the Angorian Royal Family. But he couldn’t deny how enlightened he felt whenever he talked with them. “It would be a real pleasure!”

“I would love to, gentlemen,” Prince Morisuke says, and Sugawara can immediately tell the slight shift in his mood, although by the looks of it, no one else other than him can sense it. Perhaps he was looking into it too much? “However, I’m afraid my schedule won’t allow me even a moment of freedom. Perhaps another time?”

Silence befalls the three as they solemnly agree, continuing on with their meal. Prince Morisuke doesn’t engage in any further conversation after that, choosing to instead eat in silence as Sugawara and Shinsuke continue to engage in a pleasant conversation.

Before long, breakfast ends, and everyone is in a haze, getting ready to embark on the journey towards the Magic Academy. Sugawara understands their excitement. It’s not every day that you get the opportunity to go somewhere where some could only dream of. Even as royalty, getting into the Magic Academy was a difficult feat. 

Excitement rushes through his veins as he enters the carriage. The Magic Academy was the one thing he had been looking forward to throughout his entire stay in the Kingdom of Angora, and he was confident that this venture would be the highlight of his journey, aside from his chance encounter with the mysterious girl in the forest. 

What wonders would he be able to learn from the Academy? Perhaps he could learn some techniques and spells to improve his own magical abilities? If he did, he was sure to return home and flaunt his new findings to his brothers, who would without a doubt be in awe at his learnings. Daichi, especially, would marvel at the wonders of it, immediately asking Sugawara to spar with him. 

Oh, how Sugawara missed his brothers. 

“You seem a little excited, your highness,” A playful voice comes out, and Sugawara snaps out of his trance only to be face-to-face with Marquess Yuji, who was staring at him with a raised eyebrow and an amused smirk. Oh Right. Sugawara thinks to himself, inwardly groaning. He was in a carriage with Duke Tooru and Marquess Yuji, who would without a doubt bother him with their meaningless stunts to earn his favor so their families could manipulate him to take the crown from his brother.

But Sugawara had no desire for the throne. All he wanted was to live a happy and comfortable life, doing his part and supporting his brothers. But of course, others wouldn’t want that for him. 

“I admit that this trip has piqued my interest,” he says, chuckling with a fake smile. “Who wouldn’t want to see what the infamous Magic Academy of the Kingdom of Angora is like?” 

“Is it really that great?” Marquess Yuji asks, with an uninterested expression on my face. “I don’t really see how magnificent an academy of all things could be.”

“Well, that’s because you’re an idiot, Marquess Yuji,” Duke Tooru quips, causing Sugawara’s eyes to widen in surprise at how blunt the duke was. “One would be a fool not to be excited at going to the Magic Academy of all places. Do you not know how hard it is to get in? Only the best of the best are permitted to even catch a glimpse of the Academy! We’re practically given a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity here!”

To say that Sugawara was surprised was a tremendous understatement. He was shocked, impressed, and amused at Duke Tooru’s outburst, not expecting the usual flirty duke to geek out about something other than his looks and charms. 

“Is that so?” Marquess Yuji asks, still not interested. Well, it was a given. As far as Sugawara knew, Marquess Yuji was very adept with the sword. His whole family had fostered a line of very capable swordsmen who’d help lead the frontier of the country’s defenses. Magic didn’t really seem to suit him. 

Scoffing at the Marquess’ lack of interest, Duke Tooru turns to Sugawara with an excited gaze. It’s pretty different from the usual expressions Sugawara had seen from the Duke throughout their journey. He was usually more calculative, always seeming to hide his true intentions behind a mask. But today, he seemed a little more authentic. And Sugawara wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

“Is there anything you’re looking forward to, your highness?” The duke enthusiastically asks, and it almost feels like he has stars in his eyes with how much enthusiasm vibrated through his entire being. “Personally, I cannot wait to see how they teach spells. There’s such a big difference between learning from old books and actually learning from real magicians! I just can’t wait to see it!”

“Yes,” Sugawara agrees with a small smile. “I’m quite fascinated with learning new spells and techniques. The books back at our kingdom can only do so much.”

“Indeed!” Duke Tooru exclaims, clasping his hands together excitedly. “The magic we’ll be able to learn in this short trip will most definitely help us in the long run! Perhaps it will gain you favor with his majest—“

“—Duke Tooru,” Sugawara interrupts, a stern gaze gracing his features. “I would advise you to stop while you’re still hanging on a thread. It would be best not to ruin my day with your words.”

He should have known. Sugawara knew it was too good to be true. No matter how pleasant Duke Tooru was to converse with, he was still part of the Oikawa Duchy, one of the powerful families that desired power in the kingdom.

There’s tension in the air after his words as Duke Tooru falls silent in shock, with Marquess Yuji staring between the two of them with unsure yet awkward eyes.

“My apologies, your highness,” Duke Tooru says, his familiar fake smile plastered on his face as he composes himself. “It was my mistake. I’ll try not to do it again.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, leaving Sugawara to groan inwardly. He knows his words are half-hearted. Duke Tooru and Marquess Yuji would still use any chance they could get to convince him to vie for the throne. But he couldn’t scold them for it, as he still had to go through an entire carriage ride back to the castle with them. And he would rather not spend it with the burning tension of awkwardness raging through the air.

Luckily for him, however, the carriage momentarily halts, causing the three nobles to be confused. Sugawara takes the initiative to take a peek out of the carriage window, calling out to his attendant Yamaguchi, who was sitting in the passenger seat beside the driver.

“What seems to be the matter?” Sugawara calls, addressing his attendant, who turns back at him with an adept smile on his face. “The Barrier Sire,” Yamaguchi calls back, causing Sugawara to frown in confusion, prompting him to continue. “We have reached the border and are about to cross the barrier that protects the academy.”

Now that Sugawara had a better look, he realized they had entered an empty clearing, just at the bottom of a mountain. It would certainly be strange if Sugawara hadn’t known any better. Anyone would have questioned why they were in the middle of nowhere if they weren’t informed of their destination prior, or rather they would have panicked and assumed that they were being kidnapped.

However, this was no trap whatsoever. To Sugawara’s surprise, magic weaves through the air, bursting up above and causing the barrier to make itself visible, and finally, Sugawara can see the Magic Academy in all of its glory.

To say the Academy was stunning is a gross understatement. It was gorgeous, far beyond his wildest dreams. The Academy took the form of a castle situated on the edge of a hill, watching over the Kingdom with all its majesty and glory. 

Sugawara marveled at the intricacy of the Academy, feeling even more surprised when he suddenly felt the carriage being lifted in the air, gaping in shock as the horses began galloping mid-air all the way to the top of the hill where the castle’s entrance lay.

He couldn’t even register the audible gasp from Marquess Yuji and Duke Tooru, who marveled at the sight right beside him, not believing their eyes. Sure, they should have expected some magic the moment they embarked on their journey to the magic Academy, but this was far beyond what they expected. 

It was even more remarkable than their first flying experience when they first arrived at the kingdom. It wasn’t just levitation magic. It was almost as if they gave wings to the horses allowing them to soar high and flaunt their majesty and grandeur. The three nobles were rendered speechless even as they landed on the entrance, too stunned to comprehend that they had arrived.

“Your highness?” Yamaguchi says, mildly concerned as he opens the carriage scope, seeing the awestruck expressions on all three of the nobles’ faces. “Are you alright?”

Sugawara finally breaks from his trance, looking at Yamaguchi with a sheepish smile. “Yes,” he says, swiftly getting off the carriage, Duke Tooru, and Marquess Yuji following closely behind. 

The entrance of the magic academy was just as impressive as getting there was. Surrounded by lush greenery and branded with the Academy’s flags, the entrance made Sugawara feel like he was about to enter a portal that would lead him to another world. 

In the midst of the ginormous arch that marked the entrance stood an old man. The man was dressed in noble robes, with a scepter disguised as a cane held in his hands. He observes the crowd of royals and nobles gathering in front of him, waiting for everyone to settle down before he lets out a cheery smile. 

With a snap of his hands, sparks fly into the air, and a welcome sign formed by magic litters the atmosphere, amazing the crowd. “Welcome, delegates to the Magic Academy!” The old man greets, hands flailing around him gleefully.

“We’re so glad you are here to celebrate this momentous occasion! It isn’t every day that royals from kingdoms across the continent come together to visit our humble school!” 

The old man seems cheerful, undeniably so. But Sugawara couldn’t exactly blame him because he was right. It was sporadic to have three kingdoms in the same area, no less on a visit to a school. To the Academy, this must have been as much as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity as their stay was.

“My name is Nekomata Yasufumi, the director of this Academy. It’s a pleasure to have you all here.” Sugawara’s eyes widened at his words. The Nekomata family is considerably the oldest family in the history of the Kingdom of Angora and once stood tall as the royal family before the current one took over long ago. It was inspiring to Sugawara how even with their fallen status, they stood tall with impressive achievements under their belt. 

“On behalf of all the students and teachers, we wish you a pleasant trip, and may the Ancient Ones bless you with divine grace and prominence,” and just as quickly as he came, he disappears, leaving everyone in shock at what had happened. 

Magic was indeed a remarkable thing. 

“My apologies,” A voice calls, and everyone turns their attention towards a man dressed in extravagant robes, glasses perched atop his nose, and a soft smile on his face. “Our director is quite the character, as you can see. I hope you’ll find it in yourselves to forgive him.”

The man then turns to Prince Morisuke, bowing. “Greetings, your highness, it is a pleasure to have you in our Academy once more, and greetings as well to the fine nobles of the kingdoms of Corvus and Reynard. My name is Akaashi Keiji, a professor of potions and alchemy at the Academy. I am humbled to be in your presence.”

Compared to the director of the Academy, Professor Keiji was much calmer and held himself up with such dignity and grace, almost as if he were a noble himself. As if he was reading Sugawara’s mind, Prince Morisuke smiles, walking up to the calm professor and swinging his arm around his shoulders, much to the shock of everyone in the vicinity. Prince Morisuke hardly played around like this after all, and it was strangely refreshing, now that Sugawara thought about it. 

“Professor Keiji here is actually a Duke of the Bokuto Duchy. His partner, Duke Kotaro, is the current head, however. If you could all recall, he introduced himself during the trip to the knight’s quarters.” There’s a faint blush on the professor’s cheeks as he tries to cover it up by looking to the side, causing Sugawara to smile. 

He remembers Duke Kotaro, who, without a doubt, was quite a character himself. It was almost as if he still retained remnants of the child he once was even as he had grown into an adult. He was loud but bright and certainly knew how to foster a fun environment, even if the people surrounding him were unfamiliar with each other. 

He had visited the royal knights’ headquarters to spar with Prince Tetsuro, who had invited him over for a showcase duel, much to the delight of the knights and the royals surrounding them. Watching their fight reminded Sugawara of when he would spar with his brother Daichi, and soon after, he had sent a letter home, fulfilling the promise he had made to his brothers that he would update them as soon as he got to the kingdom. 

“I would appreciate it if you would stop with the flattery, your highness,” Professor Keiji whispers as he wiggles himself out of Prince Morisuke’s hold, clearing his throat and plastering on a professional smile as if the little incident mere moments ago hadn’t happened at all. “We are in front of esteemed guests after all.” 

From beside him, Prince Morisuke scoffs playfully before giving the professor a slight slap to the back, catching him off guard. The bewildered expression on his face almost made Sugawara let out a chuckle, but he kept it in so that he wouldn’t feel embarrassed. 

“My apologies,” Professor Keiji says, averting his gaze before finally composing himself. “With all distractions aside, I’d like to welcome you all once more to the Magic Academy. I will be your guide for the first day, which will simply be a tour around the campus. The second day, you’ll be guided by other professors who will be more than happy to accommodate you in their lessons.”

Sugawara was ecstatic. Were they really going to allow them to take lessons from esteemed professors just like that? It seemed too good to be true. Duke Tooru, who stood right beside him, seems to share the same sentiments as he was practically vibrating with excitement from where he stood. Sugawara understands because if he just had the permission to, he would be jumping in joy. 

The tour begins, and Sugawara finds himself marveling at the sights and integrity of the Academy. It was as if he was being transported into a different universe. The capital of the Kingdom of Angora may have been thriving with magic, but this was on a whole other level. It was as if the Academy was living in magic. It was everywhere, from the rebel students flying through the halls to the way spells were used to pick up fallen books. Everything about the Academy was absolutely charming. 

But even more so when they got a peek at how classes were being conducted. 

When they arrived at the lake, where flying classes were also held, they were surprised to find one in session. It seemed as if the class was for a group of freshmen who were about to learn all about the basics of flying. 

“That’s Professor Shohei,” Professor Akaashi explains, as the group observed a very unique man leap through the air like he was performing a magic show. “He’s the head professor of the Flying Department. As you can see, he quite enjoys it. He’s also a member of the Angorian Royal Family, right, your highness?”

“Indeed,” Prince Morisuke replied, grumbling under his breath. “He’s a cousin of mine, the son of my father’s sister. Quite an oddball if you were to ask me.”

“But you can’t deny his skill,” Professor Keiji adds as the group marvels at the way the strange professor leaped through the air as if he were walking on the ground. “How is he doing that?” Marquess Yuji mutters without thinking, mouth agape in awe. “It’s almost like he’s dancing mid-air.”

“Nobody really knows, Marquess,” Professor Keiji answers, smiling at the flustered man who grins awkwardly in return. “As talented as he is, Professor Shohei has some difficulty in converting that talent into something the students can easily understand, yet even so, at the end of it all, the students under his guidance become expert flyers.” 

True to his word, the students began trying to fly themselves, with many not succeeding no matter how hard they tried. But there were others who got the feeling almost immediately and soared through the air (albeit a bit wobbly), causing smiles to circle the group of nobles.

“Follow along, gentlemen,” Professor Keiji says, capturing the group’s attention. “We still have many places to cover.” 

Place after place, Sugawara could do nothing but be amazed at the sheer grandeur of the Magic Academy. From the grand hall, which served as the common area of all the students, to the enormous greenhouse that was home to numerous magical plants (even the poisonous ones), to a tall tower with the most spectacular view, the Academy was nothing short of amazing. 

Sugawara couldn’t wait to experience the greatness of it all on the second day. They had already taken glimpses at some of the classes throughout the tour aside from flying, and it had been an experience like no other. There was magical combat, held in the basements of the Academy, yet it was enchanted to look like an open field. However, the professor, Professor Kiryu, was very intimidating and ruled his class with an iron fist. Professor Keiji had mentioned that it was the way of the south, yet even so, Sugawara wished he could avoid that class as much as possible. 

Professor Keiji had even brought them to his own personal classroom, which was filled to the brim with all sorts of potions and ingredients, some that Sugawara had never even heard of in his life! The kind professor had even showcased some of his brews, even going so far as to show his most recent endeavor, a healing elixir that would help restore one’s conditions in record speed. It was indeed a remarkable feat. 

The amount of wisdom and knowledge he had learned just by touring around the Academy was already more than what Sugawara could ever wish for. What more when he actually got the opportunity to try and experience it for himself? This was going to be the most prominent part of his journey thus far, and he swears to himself that he would never let this chance slip away from his fingertips.

“And here is our last stop for the day,” Professor Keiji says as he leads the group to another area, and this time Sugawara is confused as to what this location was for. They had already seen the spaces meant for combat and flying. What else could they possibly need? 

All of a sudden, seemingly out of nowhere, a screech rings through the air, and from the sky, a humongous eagle flies down, almost as if it was aiming for the group. Terrified, Sugawara ducks, not knowing what else to do, but nothing sinister comes his way, and he looks back up only to see that the eagle had flown over their head and had landed on a tall rock, looking at them with curious eyes. 

Shocked, Sugawara can only stare at the eagle in confusion, yet at the same time, he marvels at how majestic it appeared to be. In the midst of his admiration, he almost doesn’t hear the sound of giggles ringing through the air, but it makes its way to his ears, and Sugawara turns to the source of the sound, the giggles ringing quite familiar. 

A girl suddenly steps out from behind the rock, making her way towards the group, a sly grin on her face. From the corner of his eye, Sugawara can see the annoyed expression on Professor Keiji’s face, but that was the least of Sugawara’s concerns at the moment. 

Because right now, standing directly in front of him, was the girl he had been thinking about for the longest time. The girl he spent a pleasant afternoon in the forest with, the girl who could play the sound of the heavens. 

How could this be? 

“Hello everyone, I hope Taku here didn’t startle you too much. He loves putting on a show.”

Sugawara continues to stare, not believing what he was seeing in the slightest. But as more time passed, and the more the girl’s appearance didn’t change, the more he was trying to convince himself that it was true. Fate had worked its magic and brought the two souls together. There was no other explanation. 

“Professor (Y/N), how many times have I told you to keep the animals in check?” Professor Keiji sighs, rubbing his temple in annoyance as if he had gone through this plenty of times before. 

“Hmm, maybe a hundred? Or was it a thousand?” The girl— no, (Y/N) quips back, wiggling her eyebrows teasingly. “I’m not really sure, but honestly, I don’t really care!”

Before Professor Keiji could scold the girl, she turns to the group, a bright smile on her face. Sugawara almost swears from where he stood, captivated by the way the sunlight highlighted the girl’s face. 

“Greetings delegates, and welcome once more to the Magical Academy! My name is Professor (Y/N), and I teach courses on Divinity and Magical Creatures! A pleasure to meet you!”

“—Why are you here?” Before he even realized it, Sugawara had blurted out his thoughts, causing everyone around him to look at him curiously. He looks down, flustered. Why did he blurt that out? What was he thinking? He could do better than this. He was a prince, after all! 

The girl’s smile drops, and she looks at him with a confused gaze. After pondering for a moment, she takes him in and surveys him up and down before finally addressing him. 

“I’m sorry but do I know you?”

© yumeyooa 2021. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform aside from a03 and tumblr or by any means is NOT permitted and will be dealt with accordingly.

➢ taglist: @mirakeul​

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #koushi x reader #sugawara koshi x reader #sugawara x you #sugawara koushi x you #koushi x you

[movedtodykedvonte]

Bad ending AU with the Winterses where Ethan and Mia become lords?

Oooooh, now I gotta think of lord concepts for Ethan and Mia. Let's say that they get rid of Miranda but Rose dies and the mold takes them over but in a bad and negative way due to grief.

They wouldn't be around each other as I believe Lord Winters would blame Lady Winters and be hostile towards her while Lady Winters is busy trying to repent. Ideas undercut

Lord Ethan Winters - Headless Horseman/Zombies

So sticking with the gothic literature/classic horror monster theme I chose the headless horseman for Ethan. The horseman is a character driven by spite and the desire to get back once was his (his head, but in this case, Rose) This is also because you're not supposed to see his face and it is funny

The zombie part is obvious as this man just keeps coming back from the dead.

The spot where his head should be is usually empty, yet tendrils may sprout from it if angered. He can still talk and hear but rarely does so. This is to contrast with how he is in canon. Lord Winters listens more and comments less so he can hunt better

He can detach and reattach his limbs but cannot regenerate them anymore, if you were to fight him you'd have to use explosives (this is due to how Zombies need to be burned and irony towards the headless horseman's flaming head)

Physically he remained the same, but just looks a lot more mold covered and has areas of rot on his body

He carries his head in an old-style baby basket and it is impossible to see unless you are very close... but if you are that close it is far too late for you.

His face is contorted and his head can speak on its own, it is delirious and constantly asking where Rose is in a guttural, panicked fashion. Has the features of the concept molded (pictured below)

He would be the lord of the deserted village which is now inhabited with headless mold creatures. They cannot hear or see but can sense your movements and will go towards you if you run or break things (sensation based lickers)

He stalks you and you can only really tell he's nearby his head calling out for Rose as he sorta blends with the rest of the mold creatures. This is intentional as Ethan was just some guy, so of course, he'd trick you into a false sense of security by being some mold creature

If you somehow destroy his whole body his head would mutate into an awful pumpkin sort of head creature. Veiny and moldy tendrils would come from its decapitated bottom and it would whip and lash at you until dead, sometimes lunging to try and devour you.

This is a reference to how the horseman is often depicted with a pumpkin but also pumpkin patches which are often used in tandem with the myth babies come from gourd/cabbage patches (ixnay he is not over not being able to save Rose.)

Lord Mia Winters - The doppleganger/la larona

So for Mia, these may seem super weird but let me explain. Mia's relationship was always two-faced with Ethan like she gave him a version of her while the real one was tucked away. As if she gave Ethan a doppelganger. Being possessed by the mold made it seem like another Mia, not just an evil Mia. Akin to a doppelganger (Plus Miranda literally acted as her doppelganger)

La Larona is because she is constantly mourning Rose as the weeping woman does and also like the weeping woman, the death of her child is on her own hands.

She reins on the outskirts of the village and copies the image of tourists and travelers. (Cannot copy a person she has not come into contact with or make new features)

She has no face as she has been lost in the lies of other people and herself, can't recall what she looks like

Poses as copies of people to lure them in think all these people are Rose and kills them when she finds out they aren't

Can speak when she is mimicking someone but it is usually their voice unless she is between turning into them, then you hear some of her real voice

Will try and trick you by mimicking then getting closer until she can strike, the only thing to clue you that it's not you're friend or ally is that she wouldn't blink and there is mold in her eye whites

This is of course is to see/notice but it is your one saving grace.

I don't believe they would be traditional hostile like the other lords, more like Donna in that they don't really get all that happening around them due to the grief. They both are just looking for Rose, too bad she's gone...

#ask #anon #wanted their gothic creatures to be a little out there #but accurate to the character #resident evil 8 #mia winters #rosemary winters

[hey-there-juliet]

Random Drabble Day (2/23)

Summary: First off, let me just say that this is more like a one-shot than a drabble because I'm a wordy bitch and I cannot control myself 😅

That said, I always had a hard time imagining Julie writing some of the Perfect Harmony's lyrics about herself, so I thought why not make this just another song that Luke and Julie wrote together? This is set somewhere between Finally Free and Edge of Great, in that week when Ray was stress-eating. This is supposed to fit back into the show at the end, so it might seem like a cliffhanger, but it's not.

Quick shout out to @jamestkirkish for betaing this for me! I love you and you are amazing! Any remaining mistakes are my own. And to the fabulous Sloan, for helping me out with Luke's handwriting! Enjoy 🧡

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms

Relationship: Juke 💜

in the great scheme of life and ghosts

No matter how many times Luke insisted that she had been snooping through his things, Julie knew for a fact that she had done no such thing. In reality, she had simply been cleaning the studio when she came across it.

For three ghosts who didn't eat and could barely even touch anything most of the time, the boys sure knew how to make a mess. Every morning Julie would walk into the studio to find the chairs or coffee table rearranged, at least one of the rugs was always askew, and the clothes... the clothes were everywhere, and the worst part was: they reeked. 

And so every morning before leaving for school Julie would shoot them a stern look and tell them to pick up after themselves. Which they did - when she got back home, things were mostly in their rightful place. Still, every weekend Julie would make sure to take a moment away from homework and rehearsal to tidy the place up to perfection, just like her mom liked it. She'd dust off the furniture, water the plants, sweep the floor, and even vacuum the whole place. One Saturday when she was home alone (her dad photographing a wedding, and Carlos at a friend's house), she even went through the trouble of washing all of the guys' old clothes. 

Somehow, and she didn't even want to think about how that worked, the clothes didn't stink when they were actually wearing them, but at any other moment when they made no contact with their skin? Yeah... not good. So she washed them all (three times, using every trick and product she had). She washed them a fourth time for good measure and, by the time she was finished, any traces of twenty-five year old mold was gone, and so was the smell.

So no, she was not snooping - no matter what Luke said - when she came across the crumpled paper ball between the couch and the low cabinet, just behind a big vase her mom had gotten from tía Victoria.

Julie sighed, making a mental note to tell Luke to put his discarded ideas in the bin (again) if he didn't want them anymore, when one scribbled and wrinkled word caught her attention: Perfect Ha-

She bit her lip, staring down at the teasing word. Perfect what? Was it lyrics? Maybe half formed ideas? Doodles? Julie knew Luke liked to doodle in the margins of his notebook whenever he got stuck trying to come up with the next best piece of lyric or melody. She also knew she should probably just leave it alone, put it with his stuff to ask him later if he wanted to keep it, or put it in the garbage. Except the more she glanced down at that damn word, the stronger she felt it pull her towards uncovering whatever else the crumpled paper ball was hiding. 

In the end, the pull was too strong. She'd just take a quick look, make sure it wasn't anything important before she threw it away. And, she reasoned with herself, trying to squish the guilt that was making itself known in the pit of her stomach: Luke had gotten rid of it, so he clearly didn't care much for whatever was in there. 

Not able to resist any longer, Julie carefully unfolded the paper, slowly making her way towards the piano and using its surface as a table to help smooth the page over.

Luke's (horrendous) handwriting covered it with the bare bones of a song, random lines were scribbled in the margins with a couple of doodles for company, and even a little note from their bassist - ‘Reggie was here ;)’.

It took her a minute before the chicken scratches became words, and then Julie's breath left her in a rush, as the guilty feeling in her stomach turned into butterflies and flew away with her imagination. 

It was a song, parts of one, anyway, and - more importantly - it was a love song.

Unprompted, her own words came back to her, "Wow, Luke! I didn't know you were such a romantic." Quickly followed by Alex's short reply, "He's not."

She knew now who Unsaid Emily was really about, but these new words were clearly about a different kind of love. The romantic kind, and Julie couldn't help letting herself believe - just for a moment - that the song might be about her.

Before she could let herself be carried away in a daydream, there was a - now familiar - shift in the air, a sound almost like static, the only thing letting her know of a ghost's appearance. Without a thought, she crumpled the page again and shoved the paper ball in her pocket for later inspection. 

"Hey, Julie!" Reggie's cheerful greeting sounded across the studio from where he had poofed in, and soon - with his "help," bless him - Julie was finished with her weekend clean up. 

As if summoned by the end of her chores, Luke poofed in, ready to rehearse. Alex soon followed; and by the time Julie retired for the night, the song had been almost forgotten where it hid inside her pocket. 

Almost.

***

After getting ready for the night, Julie settled on her bed with the wrinkled page and her dreambox. She read over the words again and again, imagining they were about her.

Step into my world, 

Bittersweet love story about a girl 

Shook me to the core 

Voice like an angel, 

I've never heard before, 

- 

You and me together, it's more than chemistry 

- 

Love me as I am 

I hold your music 

Here inside my hands 

- 

You are my brightest burning star 

- 

We create Perfect Harmony.

And unless Luke had been singing with another girl, there didn't seem to be many options on who it could be about, right?

From the beginning, Julie had felt something connecting her to him; to all of them, in different ways. But Luke had been the one to give her a little piece of his soul right after meeting her when he let her use Bright to earn back her spot in the music program. Seeing his passion reflecting back on her, the way he treated music like she used to, made her miss it more than anything for the first time in almost a year. It made her miss the way it felt to use music to connect with her mom.

After they spent a whole weekend finishing each other's songs and working on new ones, getting to know each other's inner workings - the part of them that bled out feelings into paper to create beautiful melodies, Julie knew she was a goner. Finding out he'd been the one to write the words that shaped her taste in rock certainly didn't help. Like he'd been helping her find her way to music long before they even met.

Her crush on him had been inevitable from the start, and while falling for him was probably one of the worst things she could’ve done, it was too late to stop it. She'd been free falling for a while, and hopefully she'd land in his arms soon enough. Reading over his words again gave Julie a warm fluttering in her stomach that made her think he was more than ready to catch her once she reached the ground. 

Carefully folding the piece of paper, she put it inside her dreambox, then placed the box back on the shelf.

***

The following week went by without any hiccups. Every once in a while, Julie would remember Luke's song and a familiar warmth would fill her up, leaving a soft smile on her lips and glazed eyes staring off at nothing. Just as often, Flynn would have to shake her out of her daydreams.

She didn't think much would come of it until her dad decided to throw the band a party so he could film them and post their video on YouTube. Which was fine. Amazing, even. It was most certainly great! Until Luke came to the school, staring at her with his stupid, beautiful, awed eyes, and with his soft, perfect smile, saying things that made her combust and melt, all at the same time.

"I think you make me a better writer." 

    "I think we make each other better."

Calling Nick 'Luke' was bad enough, but slipping into a complete musical sequence as she danced with him? "Goner" didn't even begin to describe her. 

Like the other times they'd written together, the lyrics flowed through her, finishing the song he'd started with the same ease as one would take a breath.

Julie knew that whatever was going on between her and Luke couldn't happen or, if it did, it couldn't last. In fact, in the great scheme of life and ghosts, she didn't know much, but what she did know was that - be it in life or in death - love was constant. 

He didn't need to have a heartbeat or to be able to touch her for her to love him. He was just as real to her as the next person, and whether it would hurt in the long run or not, it didn't matter. 

She knew Flynn was only looking out for her, but that ship had sailed, and Julie was already so lost in his ocean eyes that avoiding eye contact wasn't going to bring it back. She would entertain her though, even knowing it wouldn't work. Just like the tide, eventually he'd pull her right back in.

She could love him just as he was, for however long they had together, and especially after that.

-

End notes: I hope you guys enjoyed it! And, if you'll notice, at the beginning it kind of gives off the impression that Luke eventually finds out about the song and Julie tells him how she found it. Which may or may not lead you to believe that they're in a relationship. I guess it all depends on interpretation though ;)

Oh, also! Shout out to the chaos squad folks that guessed right! You guys are no fun :( /j lmao

#RDD #23 by 23 challenge #fanfic #mine #jatp #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #juke #jukebox #julie x luke #fic recs