#I can see him playing the flute for some reason

[room-surprise]

How Old Is Thistle?

(EDIT: I've made a follow-up post to this one that goes deeper into the math and additional evidence that the 5:1 ratio is correct. You can read it here!)

I've seen people debating this and a lot of folks insisting that Thistle is a child, and since Thistle just debuted in the anime, I wanted to do a full write-up to help myself and others figure this out.

We don't know how old any of the Merini family members are exactly, so the best we can do is guess based on the information we have, but after carefully studying the manga, I think Thistle is at least a teenager, but much more likely a young adult, and definitely not a prepubescent child.

Here's what we know:

EDIT: Depending on what translation you read of some of the extra materials, Freinag implies that Thistle is the same age as some of his advisors.

Here's a detailed translation of this panel from my friend Fumi:

Elves age 5 times slower than tall-men.

16 year old tall-men in Dungeon Meshi's medieval time period are adults, they commonly join the military, get married, have children, etc.

An 80 year old elf is an adult. Pattadol is 82 and she's a lieutenant in a military unit. It's her first job and she's obviously a rookie, but Captain Flamela tells Pattadol to accomplish her mission or die trying.

Many fully adult elves look like what we might consider children or young teens, because they're short, petite, and have androgynous features.

An average elven adult is around 150-155cm tall (5 ft), meaning some are shorter than that, and some are taller. Thistle is 130 cm, which is short, but not unheard of.

Fleki is 130 (26) years old and she's 140 cm tall (4'7")

Otta is 137 (27) years old and she's 130 cm (4'5") tall, the same height as Thistle!

They are both women, but there's probably plenty of elven men in their height range.

Just so we can compare Thistle to some adult elven men, Mithrun and his brother are probably adults (or close to it) in the panel on the left.

Mithrun (in this image) is somewhere between 75 and 144 (probably in his 80's), and his brother is older than him (so he could be in his late 80s or 90s). As you can see, they don't look that different from Thistle, Otta or Fleki.

So, how old is Thistle?

(Spoilers below the cut)

Thistle was brought to the royal court as a child (found on the street, stolen or purchased, we don't know how they got him). At the absolute youngest I'd guess Thistle is 25 years old here (so about 5 years old for a tall-man.) He can already play the flute, and possibly the lute, and most children that aren't prodigies can't handle playing an instrument (physically or mentally) until they're around 5.

EDIT: We now know that Thistle is the same age as Freinag, the king that takes him in! So Thistle must be at least 25 years old in this comic, though realistically he could be anywhere from 25 to 40 based on how Kui drew Freinag.

He lived in the court for an unknown amount of time, Freinag hasn't changed much but Thistle appears to have aged a little, so let's say it's been 5 years and Thistle is 30 (6) when Delgal is born. More than 5 years could have passed, but I'm trying to keep the numbers low.

Delgal gets married and has a child. Delgal should be at least 15 at this point, but since he has a full mustache before his wedding, I think he's in his 20's, since teenagers tend to not be the best at growing robust facial hair.

(He has a full beard by the time Eodio's a young child.)

Thistle puts the kingdom inside the dungeon around this point, however, people are still aging: Delgal's grandson Yaad is born, and Eodio is clearly a young adult here, probably in his 20's. Therefore, there is NO REASON to assume Thistle stopped aging. "The dungeon lords don't age" is a common fan headcanon I've seen people spreading, but it has no clear canon basis.

Yaad ages until he looks about 13-15 years old, and at this point all of the people of the kingdom and Thistle appear to stop aging, and 1,000 years pass.

So, the youngest Thistle could possibly be, if he was 30 (6) when Delgal was born, if Delgal was 15 when he had Eodio, and Eodio was 15 when he had Yaad, and Yaad is 13 years old...

Is 73 years old, which would make Thistle about 14.6 years old by tall-man standards.

HOWEVER, I think it's VERY unlikely that all the characters are that young.

I think it's clear from Kui's drawings that Delgal and Eodio are not 15 years old when they become fathers, and that Freinag is at least 25 when he takes in Thistle.

If we assume Thistle was 30 when Delgal was born, and Delgal and Eodio were both at least 20 when they had children, even if Yaad is only 13 years old, that makes Thistle at least 83 years old (16.6), and makes him older than Pattadol, who is an adult at 82.

However, I think it's entirely possible that Thistle was anywhere from 40-50 when Delgal was born, and Delgal could have been anywhere from 20 to 30 when he had Eodio, and Eodio could have been anywhere from 20-25 when he had Yaad. If you use the maximum ages, and assume Yaad is 15, then Thistle could be as old as 120 (24).

I think a reasonable middle ground is assuming Thistle was 30 (6) when Delgal was born, Delgal had Eodio at 25, Eodio had Yaad at 20, and Yaad is 15... Which would make Thistle 90 (18) years old.

This of course says nothing about Thistle's emotional maturity or sanity, he's obviously stunted in some ways, but the point I want to make here is:

Thistle's age could be anywhere from 14.6 to 24 at the most extreme, but more realistically he's somewhere between 16.6 and 18.

And that's not even counting the thousand years that he's lived since then!

And that's all I've got to say about that 🙏🙏🙏🙏

(EDIT: Follow-up post with additional evidence here.) EDIT 2: I've seen a lot of people talking about the page Kui drew talking about elven earmuffs. It's considered just barely okay for Pattadol to wear them, but it's ok for Thistle to wear them... In which case I'd say Thistle could be any age younger than 83. That's handy as it knocks out some of the older ages!

So in that case Thistle's age is between 73 years old and 82, which makes him developmentally between 14.6 and 16.4!

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Peach Part 1 of 2 (Rafe Cameron Two Shot) +18

+ 18 Minor DNI

CollegeStudent!Rafe x Ward’sSugarBaby!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

📖 Rafe has a thing for his dad’s sugar baby (reader)

🪄 Warnings: somnophilia (lol), secluded yet public oral, cheating, swearing, degradation, name-calling, pet names, oral (fem. receiving), oral (male receiving), ownership kink, reader’s a sugar baby, rough sex, nipple play, choking, creampie, & cum play, no use of y/n but everyone refers to her as the pet name Peach, softish rafe but he’s kinda mean here and ther

✨ Fuck, she’s arm candy – the perfect little accessory for my old man. And he’s lovin’ every second of the attention he’s pullin’ from every ancient perv here. This has got to be some mind-numbing shit for her. She gives one of the old men a fake giggle, resting her small manicured hand on my dad’s breast pocket, her head softening on his shoulder. With that I feel a little spark in me… something I haven’t felt in a while. Jealousy? Maybe. Not for long at least. I pull my phone out of my pocket, sending an invitation. ✨

2K

Reader’s POV:

“I mean it is a little much for Midsommers, Peach, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Ward gives you a cheeky smile as he unwinds a little more on the dressing room couch, eyes combing over your curves from the reflection of the mirror. “I love dressing you up, princess. Love showing off my little doll around the fellas. Can you blame me? You’re flawless.” He winks and smiles as he lifts his champagne flute to his lips, taking a sip.

“Thank you. I love it,” you praise, running your hands down the delicate black satin, purposely running over the fullness of your breasts, guiding his focus off your eyes. “I think this will go really well with those black Jimmy Choo pumps you bought me.”

Ward smiles and shakes his head ‘no’ as he crosses his strong arms over his chest. “Do you think I’m going let you re-wear a pair of date night heels, baby? We need to buy you somethin’ new. You deserve it. Very sweet for you to be mindful of Daddy’s pocket,” he lauds as he taps the wallet tucked into the pocket of his designer blazer. “That’s just one of the many, many reasons you have my heart, sugar,” Ward mumbles as he rises to his feet, eyes trained on your body. “That, and the fact that I just can’t believe you’re mine,” he mumbles before his lips meet your neck, kissing gently as he works his way to your ear. “I love takin’ care of you.” You tip your head slightly, resting your cheek against his, the two of you matching each other’s gaze in the mirror.

“We look good together, Cameron,” you coo. He wraps his arms around you, kissing your bare shoulder before resting his chin on top.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world, Peach. This looks so pretty on you. You’re stunning. You probably need something just as pretty underneath. Don’t you agree?”

You nuzzle into his cheek, making him chuckle warmly. “You spoil me, daddy… Of course, I agree. Something pretty you can take off me later,” you flirt, just stoking the fire.

“Baby girl…” He gushes, the apples of his cheeks reddening.

“Sorry… I can’t help it.”

“No, baby. I love it. Oh, I booked a hair and nail appointment for you, so I won’t see you until you arrive. I have to be at the Island Club a little early. You can just catch a ride with Rafe. I’ll meet you at the car and we can walk in together. Alright?”

You fix your face, trying your best to seem unfazed by even the mere mention of his son’s name.

Rafe Cameron…

Truthfully, I was about to make my move during parents’ weekend. Then, I laid eyes on Ward. Rafe’s old man… handsome, sweet, thoughtful. It was too hard to pass up the chance to be taken care of. And, taken care of I was. Student loan debt canceled, school-year paid in cash, trips, lavish dinners, anything and everything his little Peach wants she gets. But even with all of that, I can’t help but be drawn to Rafe. I still get butterflies when he passes me on his way to class or when he looks my way in the library.

Even after I got with Ward I’d still try to finagle my way into staying on campus for the weekend so I could hit up a house party or bump into him at the bar. Ward made sure that didn’t happen, pleading with me to spend most of my free time at Tanneyhill. Ward is so sweet when he begs. And, how can I possibly deny the man cutting the checks?

“Peach? Is that okay? He seemed pretty happy about getting to know you a little better,” Ward smiles as he fixes the strap of your gown.

“No, Daddy. It’s perfect.”

You look down at the vanity, watching your phone buzz. Your heart skips a beat as you see his name written across it, causing the usual butterflies to swirl. How would this play out? What would Rafe say?

To the rest of the family I was just some girl; maybe someone Ward picked up at the country club or some overpriced boutique downtown. Sarah and Wheezie were too unbothered to care. How would Rafe take this? Would he even recognize me?

The buzzing stops, pulling you out of your daze as you watch the incoming call shift to missed. Shit. Headlights beam outside as Rafe’s large truck rolls up the drive just as your phone dings. Voicemail – Rafe Cameron You lift the phone to your ear, hearing that familiar voice.

“Uhh… Peach? It’s Ward’s son, Rafe. I’m out front if you’re ready to head out. Don’t know if you need a few more minutes or whatever. Just let me know.” BEEP. The message ends, the eldest Cameron’s tone short and uninterested. Maybe he knows who I am and truly doesn’t care.

You look down at your body, wrapped in a pretty pink robe; dress still hanging up in the corner of Ward’s room. It had been a long day of shopping and pampering, leaving you late. The muffled sound of Rafe’s truck door kickstarts your heart. You unfasten the bow around your waist, letting the material fall off your body and onto a puddle on the floor as you hustle toward your gown.

You step into the number, stumbling slightly; looping the delicate straps over your shoulders before smoothing out the front.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

“Umm… One second, Rafe,” you call.

“Of course.” You hear his deep voice in person, making you suck in a nervous breath. Reaching behind your back you struggle for the zipper, craning your wrist to get it to close. “Uhh… You need some help in there?” Rafe asks, making your eyes widen as you stand in front of the mirror again, looking back at yourself dumbly.

Of course, I want his help. I’m sure if I struggle a little more I could get it to word. But do I want to?

“Rafe,” you call out his name, voice broken with nervousness. “I could use your help.”

Rafe’s POV:

What the actual fuck. I stand behind her, eyes falling down the length of her bare back to her open zipper. Nothing but soft skin and satin; the small zipper resting just below her g-string. I’ve gotta move slowly. No way I could step out from behind her like this. My hard-on pushes against my dress pants, straining the zipper. I let my fingers trail her skin ever so slightly, tugging the material together reluctantly before pulling it closed.

I had no idea it was going to be her when she accepted my offer… Lucky me.

“How are you, sweetheart,” I mumble from behind her, catching her gaze in the mirror.

“Umm… I’m good. How are you?” She asks sweetly.

“Great. I’m fine,” I hum, not moving from my place behind her, ambling a little closer. I can’t fucking help myself. Her lashes flutter at the closeness between the two of us. “Just came from campus.”

“Yeah? Umm… We go to the same school,” she starts, like I wasn’t painfully aware.

“Yeah. Yeah, we do. I know exactly who you are. And you and my dad are-”

“Dating?” She answers, her calm demeanor veiling her shame, just a sliver of it still peeking through. “No. We’re friends? Companions… I-”

I let out a raspy chuckle, saving her the strain as she flounder in front of me, panic painting her beautiful face. “Nah, Peach. I understand,” I smirk. She lifts her eyebrow, letting out an airy laugh herself. “He’s battin’ way out of his league with you. I must say.”

I lean in a little closer, letting the warmth of my voice fan across the column of her neck, making her head fall back slightly as she tilts closer. My large hands rest on her hips, all my primal urges pushing me to bend her over, hands on the glass, dress around her hips, my fat cock fucking in and out as I watch her go absolutely dumb on my dick. But I resist.

Why the fuck are you with Ward? You’re too beautiful… You’re only wasting your time with my old man. What is he givin’ you that I can’t? Money? Is that what you’re after, babydoll?

Good thing I have that too.

“Nice to see you, man,” Kelce smiles as he pulls me in for a half-hug, cutting off my view of her. I pull him to the side, giving me the perfect sightline.

Fuck, she’s arm candy – the perfect little accessory for my old man. And he’s lovin’ every second of the attention he’s pullin’ from every ancient perv here. This has got to be some mind-numbing shit for her. She gives one of the old men a fake giggle, resting her small manicured hand on my dad’s breast pocket, her head softening on his shoulder. With that I feel a little spark in me… something I haven’t felt in a while. Jealousy? Maybe. Not for long at least. I pull my phone out of my pocket, sending an invitation.

She looks down, eyeing her clutch as she feels the rumble of her phone. Her eyes lift, catching mine like she knows exactly what’s to come, without seeing the message at all. I give her a knowing nod as I stroll away.

In a room full of people she knows just where I am. She’s got her eye on me. Atta girl.

Reader’s POV

Well… if there was any question if that text was from Rafe or not that nod answered my question. My excitement leaves a steady pulse between my thighs as I try my best to act normally. He’s trying to get me alone.

“I’m going to run to the restroom,” you whisper in Ward’s ear, kissing him gently on the cheek before wiping some sparkly gloss off his stubble. He gives you a little pat on your bum and a wink.

“Gonna finish up this conversation, Peach, and I’ll find you. M’Kay?” He hums. “15 minutes tops.”

“Of course,” you smile, nodding quickly before excusing yourself, nabbing out your phone as you step toward where Rafe was headed, rushing to read what he had to say.

Holy shit.

Your phone glows as you reread the text messages sent by Rafe wandering down the hallway as you take in each word, considering your options. Am I doing this? Should I turn him down? Let him know he read this all wrong? That he’s overstepping-

“There she is,” you hear his low voice from behind you. His large hand wraps around your arm, tugging you back fast, pulling you into the dark room before slamming the lock shut.

“Rafe?” You gasp just as his lips collide with yours, the two of you running high on adrenaline; teeth clashing, tongues rolling. Your long nails scratch through the hair at the nape of his neck, making him moan into your kiss as he backs you against the wooden door.

“Didn’t even take any convincing to get you back here, baby girl. What do you have to say for yourself?” He mumbles against your lips as he paws for the bottom of your dress, bunching it up higher and higher.

“Rafe. I-”

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, princess. You want me. I need you. Bet you’re so fuckin’ wet for me. You gonna let me check?” He rasps, catching your moans between his lips.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want,” he taunts as his lips brush yours, his rough fingers grazing the soaked spot on your panties.

“I want you, Rafe. I want your… Fuck. I want your fingers,” you whimper, starting small, knowing full-well he’ll talk you into more; just making yourself feel less guilty about the whole ordeal by asking for the bare minimum like that even matters.

“Just my fingers. Huh?” He teases. Not buying the angelic ruse for a moment. “You don’t want my lips, doll? You don’t need my cock?”

“Shit,” you whine as your legs draw together; his filthy words fillling you ear, drunk off the taste of his lips, just thinking about more. Rafe grips your thighs, opening you up further before pressing his fingers against your sex. Your head falls back, knocking softly against the door as a drawn-out moan tumbles from your lips.

“Did that get you a little excited?” He chuckles, darkly against your neck, licking and nipping at that special spot that has you whimpering like a pathetic slut.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, what?”

“I got excited, Rafe… I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” you whisper.

“Mhmm… Haven’t stopped thinking about me and my fingers?” He bullies as he lifts you into his arms. You wrap yours around his neck, lessening the space between you further, your wetness surely transferring onto his white button-down as your legs wrap around his trim waist.

“Yeah,” you stammer, making Rafe suck his teeth and smile against your mouth.

“Stop trying to be a good girl, princess. I know what you are,” he growls. Your heart falls, breaking slightly as he hits you with the truth; Rafe opening his mouth before you can even defend yourself. “You want money… I want you. I can take care of you in more ways than one. I promise that. Got more money than him. I’m a better fuck. Let me prove it to you, angel. I know you’re a slut for cash alright. So am I. The game sees the game alright? But, you probably need proof… Let me fuck this pretty pussy, ma. Show you how much better off you’ll be with me. I wanna be your daddy. Aight? Not him. Not Ward. Rafe.”

You draw a deep breath, head spinning as he lays you back on the locker room couch. You claw for him, desperate for Rafe’s lips on you again. Rafe rips away your little lace panties, spreading your thighs before eyeing your glistening slit with a hungry groan. “Tell me what you want. You can speak. Can’t you?” He snaps impatiently as you fumble over your words. “Words.”

“You-”

“Fuck it. I can’t wait – need your pussy.”

“S-Shit,” you whine. “Just – Just your fingers Rafe…” He brushes your dripping folds with his thick digits, gathering your essence before stuffing them in his mouth, sucking them clean as his eyes roll back. “Let me eat you, baby. C’mon,” he pleads. You watch him wet his bottom lip, savoring the taste of whatever’s left of you.

“Damnit, Rafe. Your lips too… Fuck. Hurry. Your dad’s meeting me soon.”

“Little now. Little later,” he huffs as his strong arms loop around your thighs, pulling you closer than before, lowering you onto the cushion. Rafe’s gaze stays on yours as his lips latch on your clit, sucking and brushing his tongue from side to side.

He moans against your cunt as his fingers toy with your entrance, teasing you with the chilled ridges of his gold ring. Your thighs tremble, tightening around him. “Enough of that,” he slurs, spreading your legs wider, sucking and finger-fucking you with a little more muscle. “Can’t wait for you to suck my cock. Can’t wait to get you off,“ he mumbles against your heat. You look toward the door, watching a shadow pass underneath. The music blares from behind it. Is it loud enough? You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, holding back your cries of pleasure.

“You taste like heaven, honey,” he pants, bumping his nose against your clit as his tongue dips into your hole. Rafe grabs your legs, slinging them over his broad shoulders, getting even closer. He laps at your pussy, devouring you. Rafe breathes deeply, taking in your scent, eyes shutting softly, the vibration of a moan felt against your cunt. He takes your clit in his mouth sucking hard, making you cry out, spiked heels digging into his strong back as you buck your hips.

“Fuck, Rafe. M’right there,” you blubber. You reach for your dress straps, tugging down the top, letting your tits bounce free. Your hands instantly draw up to your chest, clutching and pushing them together. Rafe bites down on your swollen clit, making you toss your head back. Strangled cries spills from your lips. Your hands drop down, weaving into his blonde fringe giving it a rough tug as you grind your pussy on his face, feeling yourself wavering on the edge of bliss.

“Peach?” You hear Ward call from outside the door, making your eyes double in horror. Rafe doesn’t stop, increasing his pace even. His eyes flick to yours, solidifying the evident. He wants Ward to hear. Your hand clamps over your mouth, muffling your cries. Rafe reaches up, snatching your wrist as your body betrays you, eyes screwing shut at you cum on Rafe’s tongue, white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins.

Rafe works you through your orgasm, waiting until you’re fully relaxed to release you with a panting breath. His mouth greets yours in a passionate kiss, cupping your breasts in his large hands. He pinches and rolls your nipples between his rough fingers before sucking down; trailing sweet kisses causing you to mewl.

“You’re mine,” Rafe whispers, nestling himself into your neck.

“Not… Fuck. Rafe, I’m not.”

“You are. Stop lyin’, princess. You know you are,” he subsists as he matches your eyes. “Lie to me and tell me that wasn’t the best you’ve ever had. I didn’t even use my dick, baby. Imagine what I could do. Huh? I know my old man isn’t doin’ any of this shit better than me.” You fight for air, looking away for a moment before he grabs your chin, demanding your focus. “Fuckin’ talk to me. Use those pretty little words that you’re holdin’ back. Enough with the games. It was painfully easy to get you in here. I know what you want-”

“Rafe… I don’t know-” Your phone vibrates, stealing your attention as well as Rafe’s as you watch back-to-back text messages come in from Ward.

Part 2

[ferrstappen]

mónaco l Carlos Sainz

(a/n): this is a very short piece based on one of my favorite songs of all time which, by coincidence, is called Mónaco by Lagos and Danny Ocean. If you listen to it you can picture yourself having a summer romance with Carlos, true story. I'd love to dive deeper into it, but idk I just needed to get it out fast for some reason. hope you like it, feedback is always welcomed<3

summary: pero si algo que nos quedó es todo lo que pasó en Mónaco (but if there’s something left in us then it’s everything that happened in Monaco)

no sé si te acuerdes, de la vez que nos perdimos en septiembre

she'd never forget the warm september night when Carlos took her to the casino for the first time. He still wasn't very familiar with the principality and she was just a fleeting person for a couple of weeks, months, and he couldn't count on her of all people to know the streets of the heavenly Monaco.

As the flutes of Don Perignon continued to flow, he became more and more animated, trying his best to explain the intricate science behind poker and the true meaning behind each card. But despite his best efforts, she found herself unable to concentrate on his words. Instead, she was deeply lost in his eyes, taking in every detail of his sparkling hazel hue.

As she continued to stare, he finally noticed the piercing gaze, causing a warm flush to rise in his cheeks. A shy smile appeared on his lips, and she couldn't resist the urge to lean in and place a gentle kiss on them and when she pulled away, his smile grew wider making her fall deeper and deeper in this announced tragedy.

Everything was good until Carlos realized he was drunk, couldn't drive and didn't remember his address, eyes growing comically large as he came to terms that his alcohol-consumed brain really couldn't remember the name of his street, meaning someone had to drive him and his companion through the beautifully and carefully lit streets until one of you started to recognize his complex and as unusual and absurd of a situation they were in, she couldn't stop giggling as the streets kept passing by in a blur and watched Carlos still trying his best to remember.

tantas veces que tomé tres escalas para verte, creo que me acostumbré a tenerte como si no fuera a acabar.

her time in Monaco was over and Carlos' career in Toro Rosso was steadily climbing, he couldn't afford to take his mind off the track and she understood, she was willing to fly over just to see him.

but it started to fade away.

she was still willing to deal with three layovers to see Carlos, and his caramel eyes still sparkled when he saw her, but there was something missing, this wasn't like their late nights in strolling around Monaco, drinking cheap wine even if they could afford a way nicer bottle.

they weren't stupid, this wasn't meant to last any longer than a couple weeks in autumn, a simple memory, one of those people you can close your eyes and feel their scent, mind playing tricks that maybe if they closed their eyes long enough they might get a feel of the soft skin of each other, running her thumb through his cheek while he tried to fall asleep.

yo sé que para volver ya es tarde, y nuestro plan nunca fue quedarse, no sé si habrá una segunda parte, pero si hay algo que nos quedó es todo lo que pasó en Mónaco.

she stopped flying over, Carlos stopped asking her to spend the weekends off in his apartment, just the two of them

Both reminded themselves this wasn't meant to last, wasn't supposed to create one single string, but they both failed.

chances were, they would find each other again maybe on another holiday, another masters degree, PhD, Grand Prix; a part two, a proper goodbye to te September walks in heels she couldn't take off in order to not get a fine, pouting so Carlos would carry her on his back, as if they knew each other their entire lives.

it wasn't important now.

all they had left was what happened in Monaco.

-------------------------------------------------

translations <3

no sé si te acuerdes, de la vez que nos perdimos en septiembre: i don't know if you remember about the time we got lost in September.

tantas veces que tomé tres escalas para verte, creo que me acostumbré a tenerte como si no fuera a acabar: so many times i took three layovers just to see you, I think I got used to having you as if it was never gonna end.

yo sé que para volver ya es tarde, y nuestro plan nunca fue quedarse, no sé si habrá una segunda parte, pero si hay algo que nos quedó es todo lo que pasó en Mónaco: i know it's too late to come back and staying wasn't our plan, i don't know if there's gonna be a second time, but if something's that's left in us is everything that happened in Monaco.

[gemsofgreece]

Farya Faraji did it again! This is a great episode presenting most Greek music instruments, while providing a lot of context, information, jokes, history lessons and as always he debunks all the myths and stereotypes about Greek music. In this video he is interviewing Demetrios Dallas, a Greek American polymusician (if that's a term in English) who can literally play ALL.

Chapters:

Intro

Bagpipes and reeds

Flutes and clarinet

Bowed instruments

Lutes

Kanonaki and Santouri

Percussions

Context of Greek music

Regional diversity

Rhythmic patterns

It's always changing

Pitch in the modal traditions

Westernisation and revival

The last chapter is thematically the most important and Farya is at the moment the most well known person / youtuber who calls out this massive misconception about Greek music. You see there is this whole, extremely rigid notion in Western Europe that Greek music was western but it was orientalized because Greeks were conquered by the Turks and were turkified and lost their identity. It was exactly the opposite in fact. Greek music was what you 'd call "eastern" (yes, including ancient Greek music, yes, including Homer times, Pericles times, blah blah blah) and it actually started westernising itself ONLY by the mid to late 19th century, meaning after the independence from the Ottomans and the establishment of the modern Greek state and the reason was the severe trauma of this whole ordeal. After its independence Greece SO did not want to have anything to do with Turkey and the East in general that for the first time it oriented itself totally towards the west in most everything. Farya is a bit bitter about it (you know, being of Iranian descent and interested in folk music and all) but because he's great and very knowledgeable at what he does, there is also all this analysis about how (especially after the population exchange with Turkey in which Anatolian Greeks moved to Greece) the eastern element re-established itself in the country. It remained marginalised for a long time but as it happens with things that are essentially your identity, it resurfaced and almost claimed its natural place. However, the biggest talents and minds of Greek music in the 20th century were largely trained in western music tradition and the music legacy they left behind is so monumental that the Greek music will almost certainly never become again as eastern as it once was. And that's okay because what was produced by these people was so essentially and uniquely Greek that it is now part of the Greek heritage, an eastern foundation glossed in western styles and the product is our trademark modern music.

*I loved when mr Dallas says how he has noticed that this aversion for heritage is being changed by the young generation and how just 20 years ago he could not find anyone in Greece to make him an askomandura and now he picks up the phone and there are at least 20 instrument makers who can do the job. It's amazing and it's not that far from what I was saying some time ago that I see it's the young people who slowly slowly try to make a change.

[notjustjavierpena]

Jealous

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: The spirit of husband!javi told me to write this. JUST TO PROVE HE IS A DICK AT TIMES. I imagine that it takes place around the time that Sebastian is conceived, so you can decide if this is that time ;)

Summary: You dance with your colleague. Javier reads too much into it. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut (mdni), javi is a dick, jealousy, public sex, rough and brutal sex, creampie, car sex, dirty talk, possessive sex

Word count: 2.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49644700

Jealous

You are starting to regret coming along to this work function as you scan the crowd of people from different branches of your company. It hasn’t even been that many hours, and you are swirling the wine in your glass impatiently as the wish to go home grows stronger. You had taken off your heels already half an hour into the event, and have carried them around by your side all evening. They are perched on a barstool beside you.

Your boss had insisted, said that the more the merrier, and that he had always wanted to see you out of your shell. Then he had made a joke about seeing your wild side that you laughed at because you really want to keep your job. 

Javier is getting a cigarette with some of the people from accounting, and you know that you will have to hear about how they feel like energy vampires when he comes back to throw his arms around in dramatic gestures. It makes you smile to yourself as you stare into your glass.

You don’t allow yourself to think too much about the fact that the reason you are so eager to leave is mainly because Chucho has the kids. Your house is empty when you arrive home later. Neither you nor Javier have made an actual verbal agreement on having sex tonight, but you know that he is thinking of it too; you’ve seen him staring at you whilst you tapped your wedding ring against the flute of champagne you drank at the welcome speech.

“There she is,” you hear the voice of one of your coworkers. Jim works in the same branch as you, eats lunch with you daily, and occasionally makes work less hellish by making you laugh. You would call him a friend as much as a good colleague. 

“Hey,” you look up to greet him with a grin, “Where the hell you been? Crunching numbers for fun or flirting with Tina?”

“The latter is cooler, right?” He asks with a wink.

You laugh genuinely. 

“Okay, yes, then the latter. The flirting,” he nods towards the dance floor which they are starting to set up, “She declined a dance though.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry, Jim,” you put down your glass on the bar behind you, “She’ll come around at some point.”

“Anyway, don’t matter,” he waves dismissively, looks back to the dance floor for a second, and hesitates for just a moment, “I’d rather dance with you. Platonically obviously.” 

“Might turn into a dance battle,” you let him know with a smirk. Jim is harmless, and genuinely in love with Tina from the front desk with the way that he hovers by her side when he has the chance. 

“Well, damn, I like the sound of that. Think they’ll let us request songs?” 

“Let’s find out,” you say, telling the bartender to keep an eye on your shoes. 

*

Javier returns to the party about five minutes later, but you are nowhere to be found in the spot where he left you. He has the urge to tell you about how horrible your colleagues from finance, accounting, or something are, has planned the conversation in his head so he can make you laugh out loud. 

But there are your shoes, left abandoned by the bar and he is forgetting his line more and more. Puzzled and slightly disappointed, he looks at the bartender who nods towards the crowd of people dancing in cheap flashing colored lights. He feels confused since you don’t normally dance alone.

That’s when he notices that it’s your favorite song playing, and then he sees your figure moving in the crowd. You are dancing with someone. A male someone who looks at you with a stupid grin; the kind that is only reserved for someone you are interested in. 

Javier’s chest tightens with an uncomfortable feeling of uncertainty and unease. He pushes past a few people who are talking animatedly from too many drinks, one of them letting out an uh-oh at seeing how he is eyeing your dancing body. They know who he is, but he doesn’t care. He wants to bark something at them, but he is too focused on getting between you and the probably handsy guy. 

When he gets close, he hears you say something to your colleague who he realizes must be Jim who you have talked about several times. The problem is that Javier never knew that Jim was as good-looking as he was. 

You will laugh at him, he is sure of it, but he still puffs his chest when he approaches the two of you. You have your arms above your head, gripping your wrist and swaying your hips in a way that would make any man swallow thickly. Jim probably has. 

Javier says your name, taps your shoulder and you whirl around. You look at him with a smile so big that he regrets being pissed off and saying something in an aggressive tone at you the moment he has done it. The smile fades from your face, your brows furrowing and you tug down your dress that’s been riding up slightly from dancing. 

“Hey,” Jim interrupts, “Didn’t mean no disrespect.”

“No, Jim, stop,” you say quickly. 

Javier knows he is being ridiculous, but he cannot help the way that he feels when he sees men look at you with as much interest as he has. You’re beautiful. In that dress, you’re sexy too. It’s not your fault, but he cannot stand being here another moment. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Javier grits out. He looks at you, a hand on his hip as impatience overtakes him, “We need to get home anyway. The kids are with their abuelo and it’s late.”

“Claro,” Jim says in a way too American way. 

“Let me get my shoes,” you say. 

“I’ll get them,” Javier tells you. 

*

You meet Javier by the entrance but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he kneels on the floor and helps you step into your stiletto, ties the ankle strap securely before tapping your leg to make you present the other foot for him. 

When he is done, he gets up and shoves your coat into your chest. He mumbles, “It’s raining.”

You take a cab home since the both of you have been drinking enough to not be able to drive. Javier holds the door open for you as you climb inside, making you jump as he slams the door behind you and walks hurriedly around the car.

With your coat in your lap, you wait for the silence to break. It doesn’t except for Javier tapping the glass that separates the front- and backseat, telling the chauffeur where you are going.

You take matters into your own hands.

“You’re being fucking ridiculous, Javi,” you sigh as the car takes off. The driver seems to turn up the music a little as a way of giving you privacy, “I’ve told you that Jim is dating Tina.”

“He looks at you just the way I did,” he snaps, staring out of the car as the heavy rain patters on the window, “It’s not just fucking fun and games when he looks at you like that.”

“I would never let him do anything,” you mumble, removing your coat as the anger you feel makes you sweat. 

“It has nothing to do with you,” he says simply. 

“Then why are you scolding me like a toddler?” You pat the seat to make him look your way, “Hey. Look at me. Why is me dancing - as friends - with Jim a problem?”

“Because you’re too fucking beautiful, that’s why,” he finally admits. He gestures to you, “Look at you. Es estupido.” 

“Oh? Weird way of communicating that you think I’m pretty,” you giggle, “Jesus, Javi.”

“Pretty isn’t the word I’m trying to say here,” he continues to fume quietly, “I don’t like ‘em getting all up in your face. How am I supposed to feel about that?”

“Well, sorry for—“

“And Jim knows you’re mine,” he interrupts with exasperation, “Pendejo.”

“Whoa, mister,” you chuckle in disbelief, “Back down.”

“Take off your panties,” he replies simply. 

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull. You nervously laugh at first, but when Javier doesn’t make any signs of his command being a joke, you stare at the back of the cab driver’s head to see if he has heard anything despite him being behind a glass panel. His posture hasn’t changed since he started up the engine, so you guess no. 

“No, are you kidding me?” You shift a little in your seat, feeling warmth spread across your face and chest. Your heart slams against the inside of your rib cage.

“Does it look like I’m kidding?” Javier places his hand on the space between you. He turns his palm upwards, “Hand them over.”

Your stomach swirls in interest at the danger. Your heartbeat is between your legs now. You shift a little more to make it seem like you are trying to get comfortable, but it allows you to hike up your dress just slightly and reach underneath the skirt. You lift yourself from the seat just slightly, hooking your index fingers into the seamless cotton panties you have worn for tonight. You tug them down over your thighs, slide them past your knees until they hit the floor. 

Javier picks them up. He gives you a look when he feels how wet they already are and then stuffs them into his jeans pocket, “Not mine, huh?” 

“I’m so done with you,” you say with a little laugh, “What are you going to do next? Fuck me in the backseat?”

Javier looks over the cab driver’s shoulder to check the clock. He looks like he is calculating the time it will take to reach your home address, then he raps on the glass again, “Could you turn that song up? I like it.”

The music grows louder. Your eyes widen, “Javi, no— no, c’mon.”

Then he lunges forward and pushes you down into the car seat, and you yelp loudly and try to play it off with it being the car swirling to the right as it overtakes another vehicle. 

Javier has you on your back in mere seconds, belt clinking as he hurries to get his cock out. You scramble for your jacket, positioning it by your hips to somewhat cover up what you’re doing. 

You give in much sooner than you thought you would, your nimble fingers making quick work of hiking your dress up once more to expose your dripping pussy. You spread your legs for him, “Hurry. People will see.”

Javier reaches down to slide into you immediately, the stretch making your cunt sting so deliciously that you already flutter around his girth. The both of you groan but it is barely audible over the music making the car boom. 

“Nobody makes you feel like me,” he says as he starts fucking you into the seat. Your high heels dig into the leather, creating dents as he grinds his hips forcefully into yours.

“No,” you moan, shaking your head as he nearly smacks you into the door with how much force he puts behind his thrusts, “There’s no one else for me but you.”

The car turns a corner, causing you to slide to the side and nearly making you fall onto the floor of the cab. Javier catches you just before it happens, dragging you back to him with the help of the car driving straight again. You giggle and it makes you clench around his dick. He pants heavily, “Stop laughing. I can’t—“ 

“Sorry,” you try calming down, but to no avail. 

Javier ends up shutting your mouth by picking up his pace. He drives brutally into your cunt until you think you might split right down the middle, replacing the giggles with high-pitched noises of ecstasy. 

Your arms come up over your head just like when you were dancing. You wonder if Javier notices during the few seconds it takes you to find purchase on the car door, gripping until your knuckles are white. 

“Fuu-uuck,” you swear, eyebrows knitted together as the pressure builds behind your clit, “Javi.”

“Come for me,” he growls, staring wildly into your eyes whilst he fucks you to the point of tears. 

A weak noise close to a feeble cry leaves your mouth just before you come but then your voice cracks as the world fades to nothingness when the first wave of pleasure crashes over your half-naked form. You feel only the sensation of your cunt choking around Javier’s dick and the car humming underneath the two of you. 

Javier follows soon after. A streetlight outside lights up the car as he peaks, and you gasp at the sight of his face screwed up in pleasure. His mouth hangs open, brows furrowed and there’s sweat threatening to drip from his brow. 

He fills you up with his warm seed. You relish in it, letting out a soft moan as he coats your walls. You’re not actually trying for more children right now, but you know It’s a way of marking you and that thought alone is enough to make you not care - for now. 

It takes a moment to find your bearings again. You pant with aftershocks, but the situation has you quickly pulling down your dress again despite not feeling ready to move. You make sure to sit up in a way that coats the dress in come instead of the seat because already you feel it drip out of you. 

Javier gets off of you and sits up too, tugging his oversensitive dick into his jeans once more. He does whatever he can to make it look like he hasn’t just fucked your lights out, but the car feels hot and the windows have started to fog.

You dare to lean into him when there are only a few minutes left of your car ride. He wraps his arm around you, kisses your hair affectionately, “You tired?”

“Just need a little nap,” your eyes flutter closed, “Cockdrunk, you know.” 

“No one does it like me.”

“No one.”

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[starryknight-dragonarts]

The average village characters are often an overlooked part of any fantasy story, who cares about what the Basket weaver is doing I want to see the cool things the Heroes are up to! That's not the case in Bionicle, the Matoran villagers that the Toa protect are just as interesting as the Toa themselves and this is explored heavily in the early series point-and click adventure game MNOG (Mata Nui Online Game) You view the Vast Island of Mata Nui as a Wandering Matoran named Takua who travels from village to village helping other Matoran with their problems and occasionally running into the Toa and getting to see them doing something cool and Heroic, also despite being a Browser based game from the early 2000's meant to sell Legos it's also one of the best pieces of interactive media! You are immersed in this world learning about lore and mysteries from this franchize and the Matoran villagers who make this world feel alive and lived in so you are just as invested in protecting the Island from the Evils of The Makuta as the Toa Heroes!

One of the Memorable characters is a little Matoran from the Air Village Le-Koro named Tamaru. When Tamaru is introduced the Le-Matoran are hiding because their home in the treetops of the jungle have been attacked by Giant Wasp Monsters called Nui Rama who have kidnapped other villagers! By playing a little tune on a flute you notify the village that it's safe to come out now. Kongu the Heroic Bird Rider swings down to meet you by swinging down a vine!...Followed by Tamaru who proceeds to fall and faceplant behind him.

Tamaru is not just a comic relief character, part of the appeal is that they do not fit in among the other Le-Matoran and some of these details though never explicitly stated have lead fans to the widely accepted headcanon that Tamaru is a Trans-Girl Le-Matoran.

A little bit of weird Bionicle worldbuilding is that all of the elements among Matoran, Toa, and Turaga are gendered. This was actually a sort of clever work around on the creators of Bionicle part because of some really stupid rules when it comes to marketing children's toys...as much as I wish decisions could purley be made for the benefit of telling a good story, Bionicle was made to sell Toys because Lego was going Bankrupt in the Early 2000s and needed an original action based franchise that could compete with Star Wars as their best seller before Bionicle were Lego Star Wars sets which means Lego had to pay royalties back to Lucas Films. Basically the reason Toys are so heavily split between Boys and Girls is because corporations want in that way, they split demographics so they are not competing with themselves for Toy sales. Bionicle was Marketed to appeal to boys, so usually with other kids media they would have all Male Hero characters, and a girl on the side who isn't as cool as the heros. By gendering the Elements they made sure that there would always be a girl member of the team who is an Equal member to the dudes. Just as Strong, just as Cool, and just as heroic as her male counterparts. 

I wish they had at least made the team equally split between Male and Female characters, of the 6 original elements only 1 of the tribes is Female, the Ga-Matorans (Water). I guess I gotta take what I can get...but then there is Tamaru. 

Most Le-Matoran are very agile and graceful living up in the trees, leaping from branches, swinging on vines, riding giant birds. Makes sense for a village with Air as their element. This does not come naturally to Tamaru though, Tamaru is scared of heights and gets dizzy looking down at a long fall, but Tamaru has something that the other Le-Matoran don't...She can Swim. Le-Matoran typically don't like water and don't like swimming, it just feels wrong to them for some reason, however Tamaru has no such problem with Water and is more comfortable in the water than she is in the air almost like she has the coding of a Ga-matoran not a Le-Matoran!

Despite being different from the other Le-Matoran, Tamaru is still Heroic. She joins the Chronicler's party and helps defend the Temple Kini Nui from being destroyed by The Makuta's possessed beasts and ensures the Toas safe return to the surface because sometimes Heroes need a Hero too.

This is why Tamaru is very special to me and many other Bionicle Fans.

[lilisouless]

Nikolai: so, what’s the situation?

Zoya points out at five identical Ninas on the hall , one of them rolling on the floor and tearing up

Zoya: Genya got drunk yesterday and tailored Nina’s friends to look like her , they also for some reason sound like her too . I am waiting for her to recover from the hangover (i am not waking her up, i like to live) but until now I just want to figure who is the real Nina and who is who, at least which one is Brekker because i don’t trust him to get out of my sight

Nikolai: it should be simple

Nina 1 : I am Nina!

Nina 2: no, i am Nina!

Nina 3: i am Inej

Nina 4: i am Wylan the flute boy, explosives and flutes, that’s my thing, wanna hear my flute?

Nina 3: Okay, Nina 4 is obviously Jesper pretending to be Wylan

Nina 4: what? I am absolutely not my handsome, amazing boyfriend Jesper..

Nina 5 rolling on the floor: Help me! I am Matthias and i need to pee,but i can’t do it looking like Nina!

Nikolai: wait,where’s the other one, meaning “Nina” number 6

Nina 3 : loosing their mind playing with the puppies in the stable , must be Wylan

Nikolai : so Nina 3 is Inej, Nina 4 is Jesper (pretending to be Wylan) Nina 5 is Matthias, Nina 6 is Wylan , and both Nina 2 and 1 claim to be the real Nina so one must be Brekker and the other one is her

Zoya: this is hard…i normally know where is Brekker because my blood just boils with his sole presence but none of this Ninas is giving that…

Nina 1: I am the real Nina, you can ask me anything and I’ll know it

Nina 2: no! I am Nina, look at my eyes! You know it’s me!

Zoya : i….i think Nina 2 it’s Nina…but Nina 1 just seems like…

Nina 5 (Matthias) : pleaaaase

Nina 3 : oh for Gheezen’s sake! Nina, just do a grisha demonstration or something! It’s that simple

Nina 2 : oh right , see how I make this dust float? It’s me

Zoya: it it’s her

Nina 1 : Well, i did my best try (pulls a diamond our if his pocket) you should watch your pockets more carefully , your majesty

Zoya: you bastard…

Nikolai: well, that settles it down…

Nina 4 (Jesper) : wait a minute! I’d reconigze that know it all tone anywhere! “just do a grisha demonstration or something! It’s that simple” …Nina 3 is not Inej! Nina 3 it’s Wylan pretending to be Inej!

Nina 3: Jesper…please, there’s no need to put more chaos, there’s a place and a time for…(Jesper flicks him) did you just flick me?! You immature pigheaded man baby…!….”sighs” fine, yes, i am Wylan

Zoya: wait…Nina 3 is not Inej but Wylan pretending to be Inej?

Nina 3 (Wylan): Inej asked me to do it, to cover for her

Real!Nina : but why would she…wait, you mean the Nina that’s on the stable playing with the puppies it’s actually Inej?

Nina 3 (Wylan) : maybe she was embarrassed…

Nina 1 : or she was trying to sneak somewhere else, she is unpredictable

Real!Nina gasps

Real Nina: oh my…Nina 1 is not Kaz!

Nina 1 chuckles: Nina, darling…

Real Nina: don’t “Nina darling me” We mentioned Inej yet your breathing is completely stable…

Nina 1: maybe I’ve been practicing

Nikolai: huh, you had to show off that you can steal as if was a clear attempt to make yourself look like Kaz

Nina 1: thats because I like to show off, you know I am a criminal mastermind that was birthed by Ketterdam with the purpose of expanding trickery and…

Nina 1: okay, I can’t do this, you are right, i am Inej pretending to be Kaz , and before that I was Inej pretending to be Kaz,pretending to be Nina. I only did it because that’s exactly what Kaz would have done. I was covering for him

Zoya: covering for…wait! He is wandering around the palace looking like Nina?! That piece of…that playing with puppies in the stable was just an excuse to go and get the treasures!

Nina 1 (Inej): huh…yes

*Meanwhile on the stables*

Genya: yeah,that vodka was a mistake …oh,hello Nina, seems like you are having fun

“Nina” playing with puppies

“Nina” (Kaz) : I always wanted to do this, and I am not tearing up my reputation at all

Genya: of course you are not, playing with puppies would only be bad for your reputation if you were like…to say…Kaz Brekker

*both laugh*

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

Marx (Singuf) The Pied Piper of Hamelin

Marx is the Pied Piper of Hamelin but he didn't pipe away rats.. he pied Dark Matters away. (Hunold Singuf was the name of the Pied Piper... in one of the iterations, so I used it for Marx)

Marx despises his former happy-go-lucky self; this is also why he initially hates Kirby (because he reminds him of his former self...) and can't help but taunt Kirby on his overly trusting & good nature (because he used to be like that..)

Especially when Marx realizes how much he and Kirby can relate to each other... a fact that makes Marx second guess himself every step of the way for his plan...and when he realizes Kirby's basically another him... It really shakes him to his core

His main reason for revenge was due to the loneliness he was feeling and thought he couldn't belong anywhere else than Nightmare's fortress with all the other monsters. (Cause Kirby defeated Nightmare & the Cappies blew up the place. )

Basically he wanted Kirby to feel the same level of betrayl he felt with the people of Hamelin... only to find out that him and the cappies aren't as close anymore wha...

PLAN B: So instead he just exposed the growing cracks of his friendship with Tiff & Tuff (Fumu & Bun). Please read Marx's role in the story (here), this contains all the explanation of this and the background info on Marx.

Keep Reading for~

The story of Marx & Hamelin:

So, after the explosion of Nightmare's base, he is one of the very few monsters that survived. (Being blasted onto some remote planet... you guessed it, Hamelin). And wouldn't ya know it he fell right on his head so amnesia!

Marx doesn't remember his purpose (he was a monster that created Nightmare and was supposed to be the perfect friend for Kirby and made to trick him... yada yada yada... I explain it more in the previous post)

Basically, it's a dark mirror reflection of Cappy Town... Marx drops in on the town of Hamelin and the towns infested with Dark Matters. They welcome Marx inform him of the problem and give him all the hospitality they can offer (during this time of crisis)~

Originally, the town was filled with music, but since the Dark Matters came in (no music), the first thing they did was swipe the town's instruments... and now they seem to be going after the people! Half of the town belonged to the Dark Matters.

I wonder why?

The townsfolk so graciously ask for Marx's help (but in reality, they are looking for fresh meat to sacrifice while the other townsfolk have to save the hostages before they get possessed.)

Marx, not knowing what these terrible people had planned for him (throwing him head first into the den of wolves). But to him, he was repaying the nice people who sheltered him so he happily agreed... all he had to do was distract them.

So they went out to save the hostage with Marx running in the middle of town as a distract. Naturally, he was incredibly slippery and managed to stumble to the main stronghold.

Marx, having his natural curiosity figured, "Whatever they were guarding in there must be super valuable..." and scurried his way in. Imagine his disappointment when he found "just a bunch of crummy old instruments- WOAH wait, what that~"

The golden flute (the shiniest one), seemed to naturally catch his attention and before he knew it, it flew into his hands. He didn't know what drove him but naturally he started to play.

And just like that, all the Dark Matters were hypnotized by the flute's spell... Marx understood the power he had. And had the good sense to pipe them away from the town.

The people were all shocked and amazed (especially since they didn't think the little guy would survive the night!) But at long last, the Dark Matter infestation was solved, and quickly dubbed Marx as their savior and protector.

This was all just so new and exciting to Marx, and seeing all the happy faces of the townsfolk made. He feels like he truly belongs... and he couldn't help but say yes to all of it.

Marx mastered his craft, learned several (if not all) instruments, and would happily perform on the streets. Naturally expanding with classic juggling, magic tricks, etc. (Also, it was part of what he was made for by Nightmare~) Just a bring out a smile or two~

Not for pay, he just enjoyed making the people happy... and whenever there was a dark matter he'd gladly take care of it. Even happily helping the other neighboring towns and villages with their infestation problem.

But slowly, as time passed, the people started to take their hero for granted. They'd complain about how loud his playing was, why couldn't he get rid of the dark matter faster, couldn't have avoided the property damage...

And this ungrateful attitude seemed to increase as the town slowly seemed to become richer... buildings were being renovated... property expanding... that's weird...

The townspeople were nice to him still... but this love was all superficial only really loved him when they needed him or after the threat was gone~ He still felt like he was an outsider...Not really offer the genuine love and understanding he needed as an individual/as an actual person...

And it seems they needed the happy-go-lucky fun time Jester Marx... so he just played along...

Sound familiar to anyone~

This all came to a head when he saw the mayor carrying a suspiciously large sack of gold into town hall... Marx couldn't help but be curious... he managed to tail him inside, hiding under the main table to listen in.

The three others entered the room... Four more people made their way towards it to take their seats.

~

Mayor: Take a look at this haul *pouring the sack* Perhaps we should loan out the little urchin to some more of our neighbors to get rid of their pests.

Councilman: We're so lucky one of N.M.E's monsters fell right at our doorstep... I was surprised by how incredibly expensive a small one would be, I'm sure we could-"

Councilwoman: No we can't so that, you know owning a monster from N.M.E's monster is illegal now... ever since Nightmare's defeated the G.S.A is regaining control the new leade of the-

Mayor: We don't need to worry about him yet, all we need to do is keep him keep a low profile... is all.

Councilman: Fine... after all, we can't risk losing our dear Marx... annoying little brat... but he makes great money for just merely piping a toon, do you when such a thing understand the vaule of money

Mayor: Probably not, and besides, why was he our monster? We were not different from the many others, whoever ordered... this one just managed to drop in our laps, and we should be allowed to use him as

Assistant: We might want to rethink those plans. I just received this *reveal a letter with a G.S.A. logo,* I think they're on to us.

Councilwoman: So before you two idiots rudely ignored me... I've heard of those letters. I'm pretty sure a Star Warriors is coming in a sweep with town for any monster ownership... Sir Arthur will not allow any of this.

Councilman: We have to find Marx immediately... we can't have him getting us all in trouble...

Councilwoman: Frankly I'm surprised he survived this long given he was supposed to be bait... we just got this place back on it's feet we need to think of something quick!

Mayor: Perhaps this can all be solved by our little friend again.

Assistant: Ugh, we need to hurry they could be here-*door slam*

Everyone left sprinting out of the room~ All except one...

~

Marx was still frozen in horror at what he had heard... He leaves through the back door unseen. His mind was reeling at... "Surely this is a misunderstanding..." Despite only being afraid to find out the truth... Marx boldly ran up to the mayor in the middle of the town square...

Marx: Hey, we need to talk I heard you and-

Only to have someone grab him from behind.

Mayor: There it is.Thank you Sir Dragato so much for taking of this little monster~

Marx: Wha-

Councilwoman: He's been such an inconvenience having him run amok in our town... thank heavens it's over...

Councilman: Yes we do appericate your service nothing to see-

Marx: WAIT, WAIT WAIT- NO you can't this is my home too I've lived here, I'm good please I'd never hurt anyone I', the town protector I-

Lady: I've never seen that monster live here with us

Old man: He probably means the forest-

He watched one by one as each townsfolk helped weave this whole fabricated lie. Not one of them stood up for him or claimed him... Marx's heart sank even deeper with each one.

Councilman: Just one of Nigthmate playing his tricks again if you would be so kind as to get rid of-

Marx: Are all of you-* looks towards Dragato* Please ya gotta believe me they're lying please don't kill me I'm good-

Sir Dragato: *gives Marx an indifferent look and holds the sword near his neck* Pipe down-

Marx was seething with anger at this point and.... wait a moment piped down that's it! (Dragato of all the things you just had to say "pipe down")

Sir Dragato: Everyone! Please *extremely annoyed* it's just a small runt of a demon; there's nothing special about it I can just take him out with- *plays right into his ear* aaarghhaaaa! *Releases Marx*!

The townsfolk watched in horror as the sweet smile Marx bore turned into something sinister. He was overcome with shock & grief; the people who had been protecting them had merely seen him as a tool. Not only that they profited from his hard work! And now they're just going to throw him under the bus like this and... The negative nature he felt inside started to build.

He leaped into the sky raising his flute for one final show. And for the first time, his demoniac instincts kicked him... Then, grandly, the announced:

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THIS WILL BE MARX SINGUF'S LAST PERFORMANCE AND FOR THE GRAND FINALE I WILL PIPE ALL THE DARK MATTER BACK INTO HAMELIN~

Soon, the town was overtaken by all the Dark Matter quickly overwhelming the town. And started to destroy it ...The people and Dragato watched in horror as the town was ripped to sherds.

Marx took his prized flute (the one he had held on so preciously as a memento on his first day in Hamelin as a luck charm...) and threw it away. And vowed to never play another tune ever again

Dragato is automatically put off by the power of Marx but still believes he could take Marx "You've terrorized this town long enough-"

Marx: Terrorize me.... terrorize me, Terrorize me *Marx's Soul form comes out for the first time, tears in his eyes* I DON'T THINK YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!

And pretty much beats Dragato to a pulp... "You will not succeed you will never take this town-ugh!" *Marx stuffs with a literal sock*

Marx: I don't want this crummy town you dingus *looks over to the townsfolk* I've had enough of it. *Snatches Dragato's bag* And here I thought you Star Warriors were supposed to be something special.

Looking through stuff see a Nightmare Enterprises logo... *triggers a memory* Maybe my answers lie there... *Smirks at the tied-up Dragato* you gave me a useful hit! SO LONG YOU RATHOLE TOWN HAVE FUN CLEANING UP YOUR OWN MESS!

This leads up to Marx's finding out his past and planning his grand revenge on the cappies and Kirby!

Shortly after (much to everyone's surprise, including Dragato's) Sir Arthur arrives... and the first thing he does is pick up the discarded flute of Marx... which was the real reason Sir Arthur sent the letter.

(Not for Marx as everyone had assumed ~)

Soon the mayor goes on to explain (his fabricated story) that Marx was the one who had brought in the Dark Matters... with his cursed flute...and Sir Dragato confirms their story... only for Sir Arthur to look at him disappointed.

Sir Arthur: I already know you're all lying through your teeth... you better tell the truth this time.

Mayor: But we already-

Sir Arthur: No, you didn't! You better tell the truth before I add to the list of charges you've already committed! *Brings out the scary dragon aura* TALK NOW!

Assistant : You're right we're lying~

Dragato: Wait wha-!

So townsfolk are forced to tell the truth, leaving Dragato frozen in disbelief... (Marx telling the truth). After the whole story was debunked Sir Arthur arrested the council members, leaving only Dragato and himself.

Sir Dragato: How did you know they were-

Sir Arthur: This flute is a sacred relic created by the Ancients... when they said it was cursed I knew they were lying and *he looked at Excalibur* these sacred items are all connected... And I knew its owner was in trouble...they were begging for anyone to believe them... but you.

*The golden flute quivered in anger and emulated a sad aura as if it were seeking justice for its owner*

Sir Arthur: You are demoted. You are responsible for cleaning up this fine mess you've made with the people of Hamelin *stares at the townsfolk's guilty faces* And as for the rest I will be confiscating this ill-gotten loot you made from Marx's hard work & whatever is not there you'll have to work to earn it!

Sir Dragato: It was their fault I was lied to... and that- he's one of-

Sir Arthur: We need to take accountability for our actions, and mistakes... *thinking back to Uther's regime* I'm trying to move the GSA in a different direction... one of tolerance away from the age of fear and paranoia I can not push things like this under the rug...

*looks at Dragato*

The situation was made worse due to your negligence... *flute starts angrily trembling* You were going to kill that boy from the looks of it, you don't even feel guilty for what you did...

I cannot trust you with any solo missions so from now on you'll be partnered up with Sir Falspar until deemed trustworthy and-

Sir Dragato: That "boy" as you call him is may I remind you... IS ONE OF NIGHTMARE'S MONSTERS! You can't do this-

Sir Arthur: I CAN AND I WILL! This happened because you ignored that boy's plea for help... You punished the innocent and nearly rewarded the guilty. Be grateful I do not permanently dismiss you...

We need to set an example... report back to me once you're done...

Dragato: *thinking to himself* (grr... you always did have a fondness for strays...*referring to Meta Knight*)

Notes:

Everyone has always said that Marx was supposed to Mirror Kirby in a way so... I made him the perfect Mirror to Kirby. The similarities in their stories are the main reason why Kirby is so sympathetic to Marx and the main reason Marx hates... (and not completely hate Kirby)

All the game characters I try to have them woven into the anime cast... With Fluff I made him have a connection to Falspar by using the Fisher King (King Fisher).

With Marx's storyline matching up with Dragato's... I know it seems like I wrote him rather villainous. But bear with me he has good reasons (aka Mommy issues with Dame Morgan).

Meta Knight, Dragato & Falspar are supposed to be reflections of Arthur, Morgan & Nonsura. (which I will expand on later~)

So Dragato is extremely jealous of MK (similair to Morgan with Arthur but for different reasons...)

I'll explain more on a later day. Right now, I have to stop myself before I write a whole novel.

And for those of you who are wondering what on earth inspired me to connect to mix the Pied Piper & Marx. WELL~

Perception check By Rom Cardy

TRY AND TELL ME THAT MARX IS NOT THE HUMAN BARD & NOT DO VICOIOUS MOCKETY! "LOOT THAT BODY"

(Sorry guys, I just wanted to end this on a light-hearted note~)

I think I'll try to post lore stuff like this once a week while the tournament is going on. I hope you guys enjoyed it & have a great day everybody.

[skyward-floored]

The Lost Woods aren’t so bad.

Not after traversing them more times then Link can count, at least. Sure the paths shift, and monsters occasionally slip their way inside to hide in the bushes and trees, but Link knows the way to the clearing where he needs to go.

The forest only needs to let him.

His boots cut through soft grass, an occasional crunch belaying a leaf. The song of the woods is on the wind, and Link follows its winding tune, the pipes of water, strings and drums of leaves and branches. Quiet giggles make his ears twitch, but Link knows to ignore them.

He plays the game of the Woods, walking its paths, watching poes with a careful eye to see where they lead. The song dances by, high and low, loud and soft, and the flute that sometimes joins it makes his heart ache.

Time stretches strangely under the canopy of trees and fog— Link feels like he’s been here for hours now, but the glimpses of sunshine that peek through the branches are no different from how it was when he arrived. Link passes through another clearing, doubt beginning to nip at his heels. They’re not called the Lost Woods for no reason after all, and he’s starting to wonder if he hasn’t passed their test this time.

Is it because of what I’ve done since last I’ve been here?

But then something in the air, in him, clicks, eases, Link doesn’t know the word. But it’s like a fog lifts from his vision, and the path he needs to take is suddenly obvious. Link follows the pull past flowers and stones, over a barely-there path. It guides him through the yawning mouth of a log, and birds softly chirp as he emerges into a familiar clearing.

Fog drifts past his boots as he looks around, and a single shaft of sunlight breaks past the trees, drawing his vision to sparkling blue.

Link exhales, and steps forward, squirrels and other small creatures darting away into the bushes. He steps up onto the small stone platform, and doesn’t move for a long moment, looking at where the Master Sword sits with wisps of fog and sunlight dancing around her. Waiting for him.

“Hey old girl,” Link says softly, and for some reason his throat aches as he rests a hand on her hilt. “Been a while.”

The metal under his skin is both hot and cold, warmed by the sun’s light, and cooled by the stone it rests in. Despite years exposed to the elements, the Master Sword isn’t covered in greenery like it was the first time Link found her. Nor is her shine diminished in the slightest. Her blade is dimmed only because she rests, her power waiting for the next hero who needs her.

Who just happens to be Link again.

A shaking sigh escapes him, and Link puts both of his hands around her hilt, the electrifying hot-and-cold sharp-and-soft thrill of her power zipping through him as he pulls.

The Master Sword slips loose just like it did when he pulled her the first time, and Link raises her to the sky, the fog parting and fading away. The sunlight brightens somehow, making her sparkle and glow, and Link’s throat tightens again.

He hadn’t realized until now how badly he’d missed her.

Link lowers the blade again, running a hand over her cool steel as he studies her, looking over her finer points to familiarize himself with the weapon once again. Something is different, he realizes after a minute or two. And when it finally dawns on him what it is, he holds the Master Sword tighter, almost hugging her.

“I’ve grown,” he says quietly.

The blade fits his size now.

Instead of the still-pudgy hands of a child grasping at her hilt, there’s the worn hands of an adventurer ghosting along the metal, scars catching in her grooves. There’s blood staining his hands now that wasn’t there before, yet she still allowed him to pull her.

“You fit better, now,” he continues, voice shaking a little. “Hopefully this’ll... make things easier.”

His breath hitches, and Link swallows it back, clasping the sacred blade in his arms like one would an old friend.

He squeezes his eyes closed.

“I guess I thought I wouldn’t be doing this again,” Link whispers, ghosting his fingers along the gem in her hilt. “Not... not after the last one.”

Not after what I did.

The metal seems to warm just a hair, like the sunshine got pulled into it, and Link rests his head against the Master Sword, allowing a single drop of saltwater to trail down his cheek.

“Thanks,” he croaks, and the softest, faintest of chimes echoes in his heart.

It’s enough to pull him from the grief that was threatening to swallow him up again, and Link sets aside the weight of an island, and focuses instead on the weight of the sword, and his kingdom.

He’s needed. He can’t get lost in grief.

Link breathes out, running his hand along the steel one more time, and then he gently sheathes her, stepping down from the platform.

“Here we go again old girl,” he says as he steps outside of the clearing, weary with grief, but determined to stop the evil returning yet again.

He closes his eyes.

“One more time.”

A single pure note chimes in his chest, and Link feels something other than grief wrap itself around him, urging him forward to take another step, to press on despite the weight.

It feels a little bit like hope.

[pepperonidk]

vii. where else can i go || all i could do

"Don't we get to be happy?" "Then he smiles and where else can I go?"

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x f!Reader Summary: Don't you get to be happy at some point down the line? Warnings: angst, reader wears heels, jihyo mention bc that's my wife fr Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: oh boy. this was a doozy. there are like 3 versions of this song i listened to on repeat. Jonathan Bailey from Bridgerton, Jeremy Jordan, and Grant Gustin from Glee and the Flash. I cry every single time. the gaslight toxic boyfriend anthem. sorry jihoon.

join the taglist! previous chapter || back to library || next chapter

The party was in full swing with people dancing to the jazz band that was playing on stage and the who’s whos of the music industry all mingling in small groups. And you were at the bar, nursing your second glass of expensive champagne, people watching.

“So what’s it like?” a voice coming up beside you drew your attention away from where you were watching Jihoon entertaining a group of whoevers across the room. He glanced and caught your eye with a smile before you turned away.

That was really the most you’d seen of him all day. Jihoon had just come home from his tour a few weeks ago and was already hitting the ground running. Phone calls were few and far in between during the last leg of the tour. And when he was finally home... Well, you’d wake up and softly slip away from a sleeping Jihoon as you got ready for your day at the lab, and by the time Jihoon was home from countless hours at the studio, you were well into a deep slumber. Sometimes you’d wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed to see a text saying Jihoon was still at his studio.

This was the most you’d seen him in a while, actually.

“Sorry, what’s what like?” you questioned. The person beside you was Jihyo, another artist signed to Jihoon’s agency. You had spoken a handful of times but mostly in passing “hello”s and “nice to see you again”s. She was one of the names you had heard more frequently in Jihoon’s tour stories since Jihoon helped her produce her debut album even while he was overseas. In fact, you were 60% sure this party was for her.

She called her hand for the bartender to top up her glass of champagne before answering your question. “What’s it like to be the wife of this generation’s Beethoven,” she smiled kindly. You chuckled at her question before tilting your half empty champagne flute to hers in a toast.

“It’s great,” you returned her smile before turning and catching Jihoon’s eye once more. He was speaking to a few big shots of the agency, board members and whatnot. He winked at you slyly and you felt yourself blush.

“Oh come on,” another voice chimed. Seungkwan, another singer you’d become somewhat familiar with from Jihoon’s stories. “Give us something juicy,” he pleaded. He had helped Jihoon with some backing vocals on some of his songs and was an insanely talented singer. He was one of Jihoon’s reasons for signing on to this particular agency.

You let out a sigh as you turned back to them. “There’s not really anything juicy about it,” you answered. “He’s just... Jihoon.”

“And what’s Jihoon like?” Seungkwan asked.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You see him almost more than I do with the time he spends at the studio,” you began. “I’m sure you know what he’s like.”

“Yeah, well,” Jihyo replied. “We know the workaholic superstar side of him, so we really don’t know him that well.”

You hummed thoughtfully. At work, at these extravagant parties, on stage, he was charming in a way only a picture perfect idol could be. He laughed at all the right times, shook hands with all the important people, but it was all still a performance. It was nice to relish in the idea that you were by his side before all of this, when he was still a senior in college whose veins were pumping nothing but Coke Zero and instant noodles.

“Well at home, it’s just normal,” you finally answered, smiling to yourself. “We could be watching a movie and eating pizza and then suddenly he’ll think of something and it’s like he zones out for a bit until he jumps up to grab his journal.”

It was easy to visualize the scene as it happened frequently. He’d grab his journal and his lucky pen that he’s chewed on way too much and scribble furiously the same way you’ve always known. And then suddenly, he’d stop and look up and hum to himself until a small smile forms and his eyes light up and you know he’s found what he was looking for.

“It’s like music coming to life,” you mused. “And I’m a part of that.”

Jihyo chuckled politely, taking a sip of her champagne. “Doesn’t that get annoying?” she asked. “Jihoon constantly getting up in the middle of stuff to write? I’d be so annoyed if I had to pause my movie so he could write a song about Coke Zero.”

You rolled your eyes at her joke. “Yeah, yeah,” you answered. “He’ll scribble in his terrible handwriting, and log miles walking around the apartment while humming mumbled words, and he’s an insane genius... but then he smiles and how can I complain? I’m a part of that.”

“Well what about you then?” Seungkwan asked. “Maybe you’re not writing the next hit of the century, but knowing Jihoon... well you must be pretty amazing if he married you.”

He must have meant it as a compliment, but his words still found a way to bite at your heart. You looked over to Jihoon once again, but a couple of well dressed ladies stood in front of him and blocked your line of sight. However you didn’t miss the way one of them laid a hand on his arm.

“I’m uh,” you began. “I’m a lab assistant,” you confessed, unsure of why you hesitated in your reply.

“Oh so you’re like one of those scientists who are curing cancer or whatever?” Jihyo questioned with a smile.

“I remember having to take a biology class when I was in college for a bit,” Seungkwan added on. “Have you published anything?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Uh, not really,” you answered. “I mostly just file reports and do calculations... it’s usually the head researchers who do the publishing. And we’re not studying cancer, we’re looking at how various binaural beats and their beta and gamma arms affect damaged language serving areas of the brain.”

You wanted to shy away, noting the way Jihyo and Seungkwan’s smiles faltered just for a bit to reveal their boredom before their celebrity training kicked in and they continued to smile through the now awkward tone of the conversation.

“But it’s fine, really,” you stammered out. Why you felt the need to defend yourself to people you didn’t know so badly, you had no clue. “I’ve also been applying to grad schools and studying for entrance exams so...” you nodded before turning to take a sip of your drink.

“Well that’s pretty cool,” Seungkwan said a little bit too quickly.

“Yeah,” Jihyo nodded her head in agreement. “I hope it works out for you.”

“Me too,” you raised your glass slightly in a salute as you turned away, giving them the opportunity to walk away from the conversation. You let out a sigh and swirled the remaining bit of your drink around the bottom of the glass.

Although they didn’t mean to, they did raise some valid points. For most of your relationship with Jihoon, he’s been on a rocket headed for the top while you followed in his stride. Were you ever by his side? Or have you always just been riding his coattails? You had told him when he proposed that you were on your way, assured him that you’d be beside him one day. But what if your dreams were changing? Would Jihoon still be waiting for you when you decide you’re fine with a smaller life without all of the glitz and glamor? Would he let his dreams change with yours and settle for that life with you?

Would he stop running his race to sit with you and watch the clouds go by? Would it be enough?

As if sensing your distress, you felt Jihoon’s gentle touch on your shoulder and you turned to see him smiling gently at you. Against your judgment, your heart did a small flip. That damn smile, you thought to yourself. He smiles and where else can you go?

“Hey,” he called out to you before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Yeah,” you replied, hoping Jihoon didn’t notice the nervous lilt in your voice. You’d honestly been ready to go home hours ago, when you felt blisters forming where your shoes chafed against the skin. But Jihoon was still busy making conversation with all the right people, making small talk with other artists, and of course having his ass kissed by the many clout chasing nobodies in the room. It was pretty standard for every party Jihoon brought you to. Sure, it was part of his job, but it’s not like you were dragging him into a lab to calculate titrations with you.

The car ride home was mostly silent. Jihoon hummed along to whatever songs came on the radio while you turned your attention outside to the city lights that blurred by as he sped through the empty roads of 4 am.

Too fast, you had thought to yourself. It’s all too fast.

It wasn’t until you were home and sat on your bed that you finally spoke, relieved to be able to

drop the mask and just talk about what was on your mind.

“Jihoon,” you called. He popped his head out of the bathroom door in the middle of brushing his teeth to show he heard you. You looked down into your lap before continuing. “I don’t want to go to these parties anymore.” You heard him finish up in the bathroom before he came back into the room with you.

“Angel...” he called out. “What are you talking about?” He sat beside you on the bed and reached for one of your hands to hold in his.

“I just,” you began, stuttering. “I just don’t want to anymore.” The sentence came out much more biting than you intended but you tried to not look surprised at the defensiveness of your words.

“And I’m asking why not,” Jihoon snapped back. Your eyes shot up to him in surprise at his tone and he let out a sigh. “Why don’t you want to go to these parties anymore?” He asked again with more restraint.

Ever since Jihoon started working at the agency, he had been wound up more than you had seen him. You’d heard stories of him snapping at interns, feeling impatient with everyone else who was struggling to catch up with the genius’s mind. When did you become one of those people?

You chewed your lip, unsure of what to say. “I hate these parties,” you began, much firmer now. “Nobody ever talks to me and when they do, it’s because they think I’m someone important whose ass needs to be kissed, and when they realize I’m not, they walk away. I always have to wear uncomfortable outfits, the food sucks, and for a record label, they hire some really shitty DJ’s too.”

You stood from the bed and walked around to the other side of the room and began pacing back and forth, the nervous energy taking over your body as your hands fidgeted by your sides. You kept your eyes on the carpet, afraid that looking at Jihoon would ruin the momentum you’d generated. “I hate wearing heels,” you continued. “And all anyone ever wants to talk about is who the most famous person in the room is, and we could just be using that time to watch a movie or finally just spend time together after months of missed facetime calls, and I really just hate your parties.”

The room was silent for a beat before Jihoon spoke with a quiet and cold tone. “Are you done?” was all he asked.

“Yeah,” you answered firmly. Jihoon stood up to face you and you couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“Good,” Jihoon replied. He was quiet, but his words were calculated. “These parties are important to me and you know that–”

“Please,” You scoffed. You were angry now, mostly at the fact that it had taken you this long to speak your mind. “Important for what, Jihoon? For you to butter yourself up with the same people over and over again? For adoring women to fawn over you? I haven’t seen you in months, but they see you every day, so how is that even fair?”

“Stop,” he interrupted you, loudly and sternly. “Just stop, for a goddamn second and just listen.”

In the last few years, you and Jihoon had had your fair share of fights. They were usually resolved pretty quickly and usually ended with a sleepless night in bed together, but lately, things have felt different. This was different. Jihoon had never raised his voice at you, not like this.

You stopped and listened.

“Yes,” he sighed, running his hands through his hair. “It is important for me to kiss their asses and to play along with the adoring crowd, and you know exactly why I need to do it. So fine, if you hate seeing people cheer me on then you don’t have to come. But be fucking serious with yourself first.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, taken aback by the way he cursed. Although he was more than an arm’s length away from you, you took a step back defensively. “This isn’t the life we promised each other, Jihoon.”

“What? A life where I’m living my dreams? Where I have you?” Jihoon scoffed and ran a hand through his hair. “Tell me then what life I’m supposed to have.”

“A life where we have each other,” you exclaim, frustrated. “A life where we have each other and it’s enough for you, Jihoon. Is that too much to ask for?”

He buried his face in his hands before standing to cautiously take a step towards you. “Please,” he sighed. “I’m sorry, I just...” he took a few more steps before reaching out for your hand. “What’s this really about, angel?”

Tears were now brimming your eyes as he continued to speak. “Is it really about the party, about me? Is it that you’re disappointed that another school rejected you? That you’re stuck in another dead end? Did you think this would all be easier than it turned out to be?”

You shook your head at him and pulled your hand out of his, walking back to the bed. You hated that you were fighting like this, and you hated that somewhere inside of you, you felt the self-doubt that you had pushed so far down coming back up.

It was hard not to be frustrated and disappointed with yourself when you were surrounded by everyone else’s success. You had worked as hard as he did and yet, life did not hand you the same rewards. And although lately you were beginning to finally feel like you were happy where you were, Jihoon was quick to remind you that you were far more than a few steps behind him. If your life now was enough for you, why wasn’t it for him? Was it enough for you or had you really given up?

The tears were spilling now, and you lay down, turning to the other side so Jihoon couldn’t see them.

“If I didn’t believe in you,” Jihoon began. You could hear that he had knelt down on the floor beside your side of the bed. “We wouldn’t have gotten this far. If I didn’t believe in you, if I didn’t think you could do anything you wanted, if I was certain that you’d come through... well the fact of the matter is that I wouldn’t be standing here now.”

You choked back a sob, aware that Jihoon definitely knew you were crying.

Jihoon’s hands found their way onto your side as he moved to sit beside you on the bed. You weren’t fully sure how you were feeling any more, but you shifted to move away from Jihoon ever so slightly and you heard him take a deep sigh as he retracted his hand from your side.

“Don’t we get to be happy?” he questioned, his voice beginning to raise again in frustration. Usually Jihoon’s sweet words would easily coax you back to his side. But tonight, they felt more like daggers than honey. “Like at any point down the line, don’t I get to be happy without you pushing me away? Why can’t you just be happy for me? Why do I have to feel like I’m committing a crime for doing something I’ve always dreamed of?”

He let out a sigh before continuing. “I will not fail so you can be comfortable,” he said with that calculated tone once again, an attempt to hide his frustration. His words betrayed his attempt. “I will not lose because you can’t win.”

He was quiet for a second and you wondered if he was finally finished. You were tired.

“If you just hold on, you’ll be fine,” he said, returning to a softer tone that didn’t match the heaviness of his words. “But don’t make me wait till you are to be happy with you.”

His words cut into you, but you couldn’t find it in you to look him in the eyes as he twisted the knife. He may have missed the point, but his pointed words found their way into your heart anyway.

He stood up and grabbed a pillow from beside you. The next time he spoke, he was further away. “If I didn’t believe in you,” he said quietly but loud enough for you to hear. “I wouldn’t have loved you at all.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

Taglist:@yksthings @alonelystarfish @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @gummymintae @maverey @jespescially

[viola-ophelia]

some john andre propaganda because he's the sexyman of my heart:

i feel like people sometimes forget how genuinely kind andre is since there's more focus on his hoeing activities lolll, but he really does have a strong moral compass & try to do right by everyone. think about how hard he tried to make abigail feel comfortable and valued in his home, knowing she'd been sent there against her will and had been separated from her son. while he's far from perfect by modern standards, he's one of the few characters in the show who consistently makes an effort to treat enslaved people with humanity.

i've touched on this before, but i really do think andre drinks respect women juice. while ben (and to a lesser degree, abe and caleb) spend 4 seasons not believing that women have a place in the war, and unsuccessfully trying to keep their female friends/wives out of spying despite the fact that mary/anna/abigail are far more competent than they are lol, andre was working with philomena (and later, peggy) from day one. he doesn't treat women like delicate flowers who need to be sheltered, and he recognizes their power, which is why when peggy expressed willingness to help him, he took her up on it. i think it's doing peggy a real disservice to argue that andre somehow tricked/manipulated her into getting trapped in his spy scheme... she's one of the smartest people in the show, and she definitely knew what she was getting into. she fell for andre, and wanted to help him, because she recognized that he viewed her as an EQUAL, not as a pawn or a prize to be won.

i know we all love hewlett's nerdiness, but you know who is also a nerd? john andre! he can recite shakespeare! he can play love songs on the flute AND the violin! he geeked out so hard over ben franklin's inventions! he draws and paints! he makes music and dancing metaphors constantly! i'm convinced that he would be such a good person to infodump to. i just know that when peggy talks to him for 5 hours straight about fashion, he's taking notes AND active listening.

there is no doubt in my mind that john andre is the best turn character in bed. i mean, he wasn't "hung" for no reason! ;)

it is true that andre is not the most skilled fighter in the show lol. in fact, we never even see him fire a gun or engage in active combat, since he's usually pulling strings behind the scenes, and he doesn't seem to ever use torture as an espionage method. plus, those henchmen of roberts' took him down pretty fast when they captured him lol. but in my humble opinion, while it CAN be hot when men are getting all muddy and bloody on the battlefield, it's actually endearing to me that andre doesn't seem to enjoy violence. i don't want a man who might murder me at any second! i want a man who will treat me right! i want a man who would "quaker marry" me and cut off his little braid and give it to me as a token of his love!!

in conclusion, here are some gifs of him because JUST LOOK AT HIM. HE IS SO HOT

[hahskeleton]

Can we have some facts about the harpy au?

ask and you shall receive :)

Table of contents: Favorite things of the harpies - 1st indent Dislikes of the harpies - 2nd indent Eclipse facts - 3rd indent Moon facts - 4th indent Sun facts - 5th indent The Wisp Brothers Facts - 6th indent Y/N Facts - 7th indent AU facts - 8th indent

FAVORITE THINGS:

Eclipse: Fish, daisies, spooky stories, mangoes, woodpeckers, orange, purple, autumn, going for a fly at dusk, pumpkin seeds, y/n, throwing things into lakes (rocks, sticks etc), (more coming soon)

Moon: Bacon and eggs, reading, people watching, scarves, blue, clouds, grapes, plain (no sauce) cooked pasta noodles, stars/astronomy (more coming soon)

Sun: Marigolds, ferrets, pink roses, frogs, butterflies, waterfalls, jelly sandwiches, pumpkin pie, decorate random things, doing harmless pranks, playing his flute (more coming soon)

DISLIKES:

Eclipse: Frogs, pineapple, scorching hot days, mustard, cruel parents, his Lichtenberg Figure (big scar on his back), lightning storms, (more coming soon)

Moon: Lemons, Eclipse, crying, cats, removing his hat, winter, molting, lightning storms, (more coming soon)

Sun: Flying in bad weather, mushrooms, ruffled feathers, mildly dirty things, Moon’s night terrors, falling, being treated like a kid, (more coming soon)

Eclipse Facts:

Never liked Olympus

Absolutely HATES frogs for no apparent reason

Thinks his cave gets lonely sometimes

Has been struck by lightning (he’s got a scar now)

Loves storms but is terrified to fly in them

He’s got the groggiest voice in history (or so he claims)

Buries unloved and under-treated children in a field because their parents won’t do it themselves

Taught himself to draw (he’s not super good but… yk…)

He’s around 7.5-8 feet tall

Thinks he’s charming

Moon Facts

Is fascinated by humans

Would kill/do anything for his brother, Sun

Has never had a love interest

Hates his brother Eclipse (now)

Used to tolerate Eclipse (back then)

Has frequent night terrors causing panic attacks

His freckles glow when flustered

Absolutely hates crying

His favorite food is bacon and eggs

Is allergic to marigolds (just gets the sniffles, nothing too bad)

Used to have has a problem with plucking feathers

Sun Facts:

His favorite flowers are marigolds but Moon’s allergic to them :(

Loves to play with small animals (squirrels, frogs, butterflies, etc.)

Enjoys foraging

He’s the family cooker (until him and Moon left Eclipse)

Embodiment of anxiety

Good at hiding stress and feelings in general

Smells literally every flower he sees

Stargazing is fun for him

Never had a love interest

Always wanted a cat (Moon said no)

Wisp Brothers Facts:

They are VERY short boys and they can shrink even smaller

Lunar and Jack’s fire that they have is actually cold, not hot

they get up to a lot of shenanigans together

Lunar can get serious sometimes; Jack has no thoughts behind his eyes

Killed by [ ]

They like to visit the cabin y/n lives in

Lunar hates harpies

Jack doesn’t remember a lot of things including how he died and why Lunar hates harpy!eclipse

Lunar takes good care of Jack

Jack was supposed to be created to protect Lunar and vice versa

Y/N Facts:

They inherited their grandpa’s cabin in a village (the cabin is in the woods near the village)

uses magic

doesn’t know shit about magic (uses it anyway)

They own a Birman cat named Poncho

mythology nerd

only had one friend in the village and his name is Nathan (all the other folks hate them because they think y/n’s a witch/warlock (Nathan’s fake))

likes harpies

LOVES mangoes for no apparent reason

sort of a crazy introvert/ambivert

likes to get cozy by a fireplace with a book

they have glasses but they never wear them because they think they’re stupid looking

AU Facts

The AU’s birthday is on April 3rd

Drabbles, AO3 works, art and comics will be posted

There’s a lot of lore

Perhaps I will open a “Talk to the Harpies” event later

there’s a blog: @dca-harpy-au-blog

the creator (me) allows and loves fanart and all other things like that

(more facts coming soon)

[myusuchaa]

The Dance - Rafayel x AFAB

༄ wc: 892

༄ third person pov | no spoilers | based on Abysswalker myth

༄ content warnings: fluff, teasing, princess/royalty roleplay, lighthearted, romance, mxf pairing, dancing

༄ a/n: hiii, this was my first ever short fic! i remember feeling so inspired after reading rafayel's abysswalker myth stories that i immediately started to daydream and headcanon what his interactions with her would be like. it is very short and very sweet, somewhat whimsical. this is a part 1 in an abysswalker short fic series i wrote. click here for part 2 which is up!! hope you enjoy! (creative format posted as pictures under text below).

the dance

It was her first night outside of the palace alone with him. The alleyways he brought her to were in the heart of a bustling trade district - dim colored lanterns lit the streets and the smell of grilled food lingered in the air with sounds of laughter and music. 

“There’s just so much to see around here, I never would have believed all this vibrancy was so close to my quiet room in the palace…Oh, look!” 

She pointed to an array of flute-like musical instruments. Her eyes gleamed with wonder, and he couldn’t help but smirk somewhat pridefully, grateful that his mask hid his expression. They continued down the winding streets for some time in this fashion, her fleeting left and right at every stall under his careful gaze. Eventually, they arrived at a small courtyard area, hidden by thriving bushels of vines that crawled along the walls and fell over the archway paths. At the center were a quartet of musicians enthusiastically playing a lively melody. Nearly a dozen or so people were dancing around the quartet, cheeks rosy from the heat of song and wine. 

The two of them made their way to a small alcove in the courtyard, a bit further from the main crowd so as not to disrupt their dance sequence. 

“This is beautiful,” she stated with a smile. “Do you know what type of dance that is? I don’t recall ever learning steps that look like that during my dance lessons at the palace.” 

“No one here dances formally, so I’m not sure I can answer correctly.” His eyes wandered from the crowd onto her beaming face, which was clearly enamored by the scene. She hasn’t looked his way once. Not that he cared much, he would rather look upon her. 

“They are simply moving the way the music is telling them to move.” 

“But they’re so fluid, it looks as if they’ve rehearsed this for weeks! Even the children dancing together, I haven’t seen them trip once!” 

He let out a small laugh under his breath. 

“Those kids have been dancing like that for years, probably ever since they could walk. It comes naturally to them. You, on the other hand, you might trip if you try.”

The heroine fidgeted on her feet for a second, contemplating what to say next. She brushed that remark off.

“Would it come naturally to you, Rafayel?” The slightest blush graced the tip of her nose as she said this.

“...I’m not too keen on dancing.” He wanted to explain it was because the dances he is familiar with are all carried out underwater, making it a completely different task. Pair dancing in the water required constant contact, for fear of creating a current that may push your partner away. The result was a dance involving intricate arm and hand placement, and a degree of intimacy he wasn’t comfortable sharing verbally. 

In the end, he left it at that. He took a breath, growing uneasy at the waning hour.

“Miss, I believe our night out is coming to a close. If I don’t take you back soon, the guards may spot us on their next patrol. Your time is u-”

“Wait, shhh…”, her face lit up even more, as if discovering a hidden secret. “Rafayel, this melody! It’s stunning! How can you not want to join them at the best part?!” 

He grimaced and hesitated. His duty bound him strictly, and he had not forgotten the reason he brought her out in the first place. Yet, as if he were a cold and lonely drifter drawn to a gorgeous flame, he could only obey. 

“I suppose a few minutes of dancing won’t hurt. Besides, I am somewhat indebted to your care for me earlier. But this will cost you.” 

“Cost what?” Somewhere inside, she knew she didn’t care what the price was. 

He merely laughed as he looked toward the sky, taking off his mask with one hand and extending the other toward her. His eyes seemed more crimson than azure in that moment, a hint of mischief in them made pronounced as he smiled slyly, showing his mouth to her for the first time. 

“Then, Your Highness… shall we?” 

She bashfully took his hand and immediately his strength overwhelmed her. As they traveled to the center of the crowd, she suddenly felt embarrassed by asking to dance, not entirely sure what she signed up for. He was warm, incredibly warm, his charismatic grin charming her more than she’d care to admit. But behind his warmth she felt something frigid, and something familiar. Have they met before? She let this thought drift into the wind as the music did. 

“Ready?” He brought her even closer now, the scent of sea salt and spice on his leather coat. His fingers moved down from her shoulders to the arch of her back, leaving a trail of goosebumps where they traced. As the music picked up, he leaned in. 

“Remember, just move naturally.” 

“I-.. I am.” She squeaked. 

“Are you?” He looked down on her, the stars shining above his head. 

“You’re…” She couldn't quite finish the sentence. 

“I’m simply moving the way the music wants me to. Toward you.” 

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

His enticing touch left a warm sensation on her, long after he brought her back under the guise of the new moon. 

©myusuchaa 2024 do not steal

[aromanticautiesworld]

MARTINER PLS IM BEGGING FOR ANYTHING FERN X READER 😓

Specifically a gn!musician reader who's chill and easy going, (sort of balances fern out/similar to marshall lee) who teases fern sometimes and becomes friends with fern, fern develops a crush on them and gets jealousy of the friendship between finn and the reader and finally gets the guts to confess.

ADD ANYTHING TO THE PROMPT BC YOURE A GREAT WRITER <333

AHGJH THANK U!! i LOVE this req btw im gonna incorporate it into my belief system

////

fern with a musician gn!reader (art by mee!)

word count: 1789

The first time, he met you through Finn.

One lousy sunday evening Finn invited you over (he will often invite people over to the treehouse with no warning), the sky was halfway dark, and you looked like you walked all the way here.

You wore a large case on your back, hair tied up and a pencil slid behind your ear. Slung across your shoulder was a duffel bag which he would soon discover was full of paper (paper is weird to think about. It used to be trees, and he’s kinda related to trees now. It’s not cannibalism yet, but it’s close. Corpse desecration, maybe. He doesn’t feel that strongly about it anyways, nor does he feel very close to the trees, even if he technically is) with scrawled half-written lyrics all over them.

“Anyone home?” You half-yell from the bottom of the treehouse. Finn was out on the deck, doing who-the-hecking-gob-knows-what with Jake.

Fern sits perched from his up hiding spot (you could only see his glowing eyes, if you were looking up). He slithers down the ladder, remaining unseen (he doesn’t want to be. They’re a new person. New people are scary), tail flicking.

When you notice him, you quickly turn around. “Hey,” You squint. “Finn?”

There is a pause as he is torn between opting out of this conversation entirely and actually talking. “Fern, actually.”

“Oh. Cool name,”

“I picked it.”

“My parents gave me mine, but I’m considering changing it.”

“Why would you wanna change your name?”

You shrug, “I like to live my life on the edge. Me n’ your roommate got a jam sesh happening right now, you should join,”

There’s a beat of silence. “…I don’t think I’m invited. Grass boys can’t play the flute. Grass boys can’t even breathe.” Fern crosses his arms and looks down, frowning.

Worry flickers over your eyes, if you blink you’ll miss it. “Hmm…” You look to the side, in thought. “Well, now you are. ‘Grass boy’.” You smile ever so slightly when using the nickname he’s given for himself.

“Hey! Only I get to call myself that!”

“Sure, grass boy. C’mon, he’s probably out on the deck,” You walk to the ladder, gesturing for him to follow.

And, for no reason he can think of, he follows you. It’s like he wants to be around you, which is weird. He usually stops himself from being around people, they either treat him like he is Finn or like he’s the opposite. He’s not either, though.

He picks off a flower from his shoulder. Where did that come from?

The fourth time, you had a BFF sleepover. Fern had crawled onto the outside of the tree, to both not intrude and not do something wrong (it was the worst thing when Jake looked at him like that. He doesn’t want you to look at him like that too). The distant sounds of the Candy Kingdom and Jake lamenting at not winning card wars are all the sounds there are, up there.

Until the sounds of someone crawling onto the roof with him.

He sharply turns, ready to fight off whatever evil was trying to kidnap Finn or Jake (or both) this time. But no, it’s just you again.

“Was Jake too mean in card wars?”

“No, I just lost. They’re playing elimination, I don’t feel like watching the rest.”

You plop down right next to him.

“Y’ever been there?” You look up at the sky.

Fern squints, “That cloud?”

“No, pom-pom. The sky.” (This was a new nickname, made after the discovery of his dandelion tail).

“No. Wait! Yes. Magic man was doing some b-s with my bro, so I had to meet the immortal King of Mars.”

“Then what?”

“He died.”

You snort. It wasn’t an intentional joke, but he gets that weird buzzy feeling again.

“Whoa, poms. You’re like, covered in flowers.”

Finn groans. “Aghh! Again??” He sits up and rushes to brush the reds, yellows and oranges off himself.

He turns to you smiling at him in his flower frenzy, frown heavy upon his face.

“What?” He asks, accusatory, grass puffed up (the image reminds you of an angry cat).

“Nothing. Just you.”

Fern’s tail twitches, he de-puffs and he brings his knees to his chest.

It’s quiet again, you both sitting in comfortable silence.

“We may not have sunshine, or starlight, or weather,

But we've got each other, and that's even better.

You don't need the sun to keep you warm when you've got arms,

Wishes come from you and not a random shooting star.

We may not have storm clouds, but the sky's always blue,

We've got something special here

And what we have is you

What we have is you

What we have is you…”

You look over to grass-boy, asking if he liked it, but you stop yourself halfway. He was asleep.

You brush the stray hairs out of his face, before climbing back off the roof to probably lose card wars again. Such is the tragedy of sleepovers.

Fern would later wake up, and have an important realization.

Fern messes around with his…Finn’s old racecar track toy. He then drops it to the floor.

“I got a question for you, Finn.”

“What’s up, dude?”

“If I…hypothetically…liked…someone… how would I go about doin’ that?”

“You got a crush?”

“No! It’s hypothetical.”

Finn squints at him.

“Hypothetical.”

Finn continues to squint.

“Hy-po-the-ti--”

“No no, I got it.”

“Okay.”

“Well…I would say you tell them how you feel.”

Flowers cover his face again. “Noooooo!! What if they don’t like me back? What if they like someone else?”

Finn shrugs, “Then they don’t like you back. I had a crush on PB for years, she never liked me back and we’re still friends.”

“But what if…”

“Dude.” Finn stops him. “You got this.”

Fern would appreciate his cheering on, but he’s not so sure Finn would say the same thing had he known it was you, or that he’s got this. He knows you like spending time with Finn more than him.

The ???th time (he’s lost count), you invited him along again, with Finn, (and basically everyone else in Ooo, to be honest. It happens when you’re friends with Finn) to a TV night for your birthday. It was an old one you scavenged up, “My Little Pony” or something (his favorite character is Rainbow Dash).

After many weeks of toeing around the idea of asking you out (that time you guys made pancakes, when you went for a dip in the river He’s going to do it tonight.

You sat next to him (close. to him), singing along to the many, many songs over the noise of the crowd behind the couch.

“No, I do not love the groom, in my heart there is no room—” You lean into him and he mumbles along with the lyrics, small smile on his face.

“Finally the moment has arrived! For me, to be one lucky bride…” Finn is also singing. He pauses, staring off into space, before snapping up. “Oh yeah!”

“Hm?” You look across Fern to him.

“C’mere dude, I gotta show you something!”

You get up from his side, going with Finn, and leaving him disappointed.

He follows the duo, though the mild party and to the hallway where Finn was lugging a huge box.

“I got you a present!”

“Oh, awesome,”

“You wanna open it?”

“Hold on,” You pull a pair of scissors out of your pocket. Why it was in there, no one will ever know.

Fern then gets hit by the realization that he forgot to get you a present. How the heck did he think he could just /show up/ to your party without one?

“Oh, Finn, this is so cool! Thanks so much,” You admire the new guitar you’d window shopped for a few weeks ago, which Finn had apparently taken notice of.

“It’s NP, DW about it.”

“Why are you talking in acronyms?”

“It’s a new thing I’m trying out.”

Fern shuffles over to you. “Hey, um, [ ]? Can I talk to you about something?”

“What’s up?”

He lowers his head more. “Can I talk to you about it in private?”

You look back at Finn, then nod and gesture for him to follow into a more secluded hallway, the muffled sounds of dance music vibrating through the walls.

You don’t say anything, and instead are listening intently (terrifying). Fern has to take a deep breath to steady himself.

“I….um….” He begins to fidget with his hands, “I think you’re really cool. And…you’re one of the only people who doesn’t look at me like a monster. And I like hanging out with you and I wanna hang out more and…”

You nod, urging him to continue.

“…andddddd I—”

“AAAAAAAH!” A scream from the party interrupts him.

“GIANT WORM!”

You both immediately run out, to see a monster breaking through one of the walls of your house, jerking around violently as Finn already had his sword around its neck (?).

Fern rushes in, grass sword already whipped out.

He joins Finn on its head (? Again. It’s a worm) stabbing it, rapidly. Its pink blood drips down the side of its face, onto your floor. It begins jerking and twitching even more violently now, trying to shake Fern off.

Finn struggles, and tries to get a stable footing, before the force it’s using to try and get both him and Fern off plunges Finn’s sword right through its neck.

Its head falls right to the floor, Fern still on it, who is still stabbing.

Finn continues to fight the rest of the worm’s body, which has since retreated outside and is currently trying to spit acid at him, leaving barren spots in the grass with only mildly dissolved dirt.

You crouch in front of Fern, putting your hand on his shoulder.

“I think it’s had enough, grass boy,”

He looks up at you, then back down at the corpse-head, and re-sheathes the grass sword.

“What were you saying?”

Feen blinks. What was he saying?

You stare at him, intently.

Oh yeah, absolute fear. “I…..”

“……reallyreallylikeyou. Alotalot.” He snaps his eyes shut when he says it, only opening one a moment later to gauge your reaction.

You knew this already, but you wanted to wait until he was sure of his feelings.“Awww, I like you too! you little pom-pom.” You squish his (flower covered) face.

“Stop it!” He complains.

“Nope, we're partners. You can’t escape me now,”

‘Nooooooooooo…”

“Go Fern! Yeahhh!” Finn shouts from where he stood on the decapitated corpse on the worm, covered in pink blood.

You giggle, before it slowly subsides. “Wait a minute. How am I gonna pay for my house?”

[yuri-is-online]

I've got a theory question for tdb (bear with me, I've blazed through story so remembering the beginning is a little difficult)

So at the beginning, the anomaly we met was actively texting us right? Said something about how they've "been waiting to see us" or somethin like that

Which we know anomalies can be sentient (especially if we run with the theory with towa). And I dunno, I wanna loop in the time loop theory somewhere here. If we go with the idea of mc being the girl in the tower and her jumping before a loop maybe, then what (or who) is the anomaly we met?

I've been going through the tdb tag to see if you've mentioned it yet and no one has asked, so I figured I would bc I like bouncing theories... I need to hop on tdb reddit

SO I lurk in the discord server some people on the reddit put together and it was pointed out there that shortly after that happened the dev's other game had a Rapunzel themed event 💀💀💀 so that's what the line about the girl in the tower was likely referencing since it makes sense someone like Taiga would "not be into that shit (i.e. not his game) at all." THAT BEING SAID I am so glad you brought up the anomaly in the beginning because there's some stuff about it I find interesting.

I went and took some screenshots from the summoning and the person who commented under that little theory was right in that the person who is falling does land in the woods, so it could be that whoever jumps off of the tower at the end of the loop does end up in the woods somewhere. It might mean nothing, but I'll hold onto this thought just in case.

Dorms rarely cooperate on missions, so Taiga and Haku being on one together is odd. Taiga also does not seem to have lines referencing Haku, but he seems to have given up on trying to escape the timeloop and wants "the others" to join him in his nihilism. I think this sort of goes with his being a gambler who says there is "no trick to winning you just have keep playing" but still desperately looking to the MC for "something I could do different" or a reason. He wants to have hope again but he isn't able to.

I personally think these "others" he talks about are probably Tohma and Romeo, Tohma because he seems to be one of the more active ones working to isolate the traitor and Romeo because that's his best friend. Oh and while I am on the subject of the traitor, someone brought up to me a crack theory about Luca being the traitor and I have seen some votes for Towa too. While I obviously think that it is almost certain to be Haku, I think there is a potential for a faction split between people who agree with whatever Haku's take on the ghoul's situation is and people who agree with Tohma. Luca is a very good candidate for someone who I could see being manipulated into siding with the "evil" side if he thought it meant it was the only way to protect his brother. Towa will go wherever Haru does, and I can't really see Haru siding with Haku if it involves hurting the anomalous creatures in any way. That and Haku seems very convinced that he's in whatever he's in alone.

But to finally answer your question/talk about what's been bugging me: the anomaly who curses the MC takes her into something that reminds me of a cursed domain from JJK and turns the scenery all red. And like you said they text her! Like it's been stalking her for a long time. I hope we get to learn about how Haku's flute works in the Hotarubi chapter because I want to know how and why he was able to take MC out of the anomaly's domain and return her to the train car. That almost made me think he could control it in some way... I'll have to level his affection enough to see what his pfp is in his texts because it it is remotely similar to the one the anomaly uses I will have a stroke.

As for what the anomaly is... it's profile picture is a spider lily and it uses the name "Mina" when talking to MC. It's head has roses, spider lilies and what I think are supposed to be poppies growing on its head. Apparently there is a Chinese legend about spider lilies and I keep seeing the same text copy and pasted everywhere about it, but I feel comfortable sharing what I found since I was able to find it on Wuhan University's English website: (x)

I imagine when we meet whatever monster cursed MC it will be a bit different than whatever is going on here, but MC is talking about how "if she knew it would end like this she never would have fallen for them in the first place." Sure she's just talking about how her favorite band just broke up, but maybe that feeling drew the spirit towards her since it is attracted to/preys on lost loves.

If I am allowed to cope a whole bunch here, I think it would make for solid timeloop building if MC's feelings weren't about the band at all, but about her lost love who jumped off the building at the start of the game. Since the loop has restarted she doesn't remember him, so she thinks her feelings are and directs them towards the band she used to love, but the strength of her disappointment comes from somewhere else.

Thank you very much for your question, it made me think a whole lot!

[heyiwrotesomethings]

yor x femaler reader. friends to lovers

so yor is on an undercover mission on ball?and is almost caught by the bodyguards of the target when she is dragged into an alley way,after being chased, by reader and she keeps her quiet before a gunshot is heard near them and they are found.

Things happen and yor is knocked out and bound in a ware house were they try to interrogate her.

KEY WORD: try

Reader goes and commits h0moc!d3

Ballroom Blitz

Yor Briar x She/Her Reader

A/N: I know this isn’t exactly what you asked for, but I was unsure how to best carry it out so I tried to make it a little easier for myself. I can promise you that Reader does commit homicide though! For added fun, I thought about the song The Ballroom Blitz by Sweet while writing this, so if anyone wants to give that a listen, feel free. Thanks for reading! Word Count: ~1,465

“The target is in the back of the room in the burgundy suit, see him?” (Y/n) murmured into the minuscule communications device tucked snuggly in her ear. She hid the movement of her lips behind the champagne flute in her hand.

“Yes, I see him.” She heard Yor reply.

(Y/n)’s eyes drifted to the opposite corner of the busy room to find Yor navigating between the dancing couples in her signature black dress.

“Use caution, those men around him are trained bodyguards.”

“What would I ever do without your help (Y/n), thank you.”

(Y/n) could hear the genuine gratitude in Yor’s voice and smiled behind the lip of her champagne flute.

“Any time, partner.”

(Y/n) stood vigil in her corner and watched Yor slowly make her way through the dancing and chatting aristocrats, politely denying any offers to dance along the way. She briefly turned her eyes back on the man in the back of the ballroom. Well, it was supposed to be brief, but looking at the man, she saw how nervous he looked as he nursed another glass of wine. A red rather than a white this time around, he must have finished off the previous bottle on his own. No one would think anything was amiss if he suddenly toppled over once Yor slipped the poison into his never-ending drink.

Yet his nervous behavior concerned (Y/n). Was he expecting something to go wrong for him tonight? Had someone tipped him off?

(Y/n) saw movement at the target’s left and peered over at the well-dressed, snooty looking woman stiffly walking over with a large binder in her hands. On closer inspection, (Y/n) noticed it was the guest book and silently cursed as the woman hung over the target’s shoulder and pointed out Yor from the crowd.

“Yor, we’ve been compromised. Retreat and regroup—“

“Everyone attack!” The man shrilled over the fanciful classical music that filled the ballroom, jabbing a desperate finger in Yor’s direction as he practically crawled over the woman with the guest book to run away with his hands raised to the sky.

The bodyguards and even more men who had been disguised as waitstaff leapt into action and began lunging and shooting at Yor, flinging the ballroom into chaos.

“Shit—” (Y/n) pulled her gun free from its hiding place and aimed it at the ceiling, firing off a single shot. “Everyone who doesn’t have a stake in this fight, get down!”

Most of the people fell to the ground in an array of screams and shouts before they began scuttling away like cockroaches. How undignified. For some reason the small orchestra was still playing though, and for that (Y/n) had to give props. That, and they seemed to switch to something more energetic to match the hectic scene.

“(Y/n), go after the target!” Yor yelled into her mic, making (Y/n) wince, “I’ll hold them off here.”

(Y/n) wanted to disagree, but they really didn’t have another choice. If their target got away, then that wiggly little mole would never be seen again.

“Don’t die on me, Briar!” (Y/n) warned, dodging a bodyguard’s punch before elbowing him hard in the stomach and sending him to the ground with the bridge of his nose crushed into his skull.

Yor sent her a wink from the other side of the ballroom as she sliced another man’s jugular open while dodging a spray of bullets. It was strangely artistic, almost like a dance with the music still playing, a very bloody, violent dance.

But now wasn’t the time for (Y/n) to ogle her best friend, she had a cowardly little mole to catch up with.

She disposed of a few more bodyguards on the way out of the ballroom and kicked the double doors open, catching sight of the target as he scrambled around the corner. She ran after him and the ballroom’s double doors swung shut with a heavy thud, muffling the music and gunfire within.

After littering the halls with a few more bodies, she had cornered the target. She almost felt bad for the man sniveling and cowering beneath the elegantly carved mahogany table and red velvet table cloth, an expensive antique vase smashed against the ground and scattered around him in his hurry to hide underneath.

“Please, don’t kill me! I’ll pay you triple what you’re being paid!” He pleaded, eyes red from crying.

“Afraid I can’t do that, sir. This is the risk you run when you deal in selling sensitive information,” (Y/n) reloaded her gun and took aim, “No amount of money can save you when you piss off all the wrong people.”

She ended it with one shot, putting the man out of his misery quickly and only taking the time to check that he was truly dead before rushing back down the maze of hallways back to the ballroom to assist Yor in anyway she could.

“Yor, I eliminated the target. Retreat.” (Y/n) spoke through the communicator. She waited a few moments, but heard no reply, “Yor, respond… Yor? Shit.”

(Y/n) picked up the pace, becoming more worried the closer she got without word from Yor. She couldn’t hear the orchestra anymore, they must have wised-up and split. She slammed the doors open and her eyes were immediately drawn to the middle of the room where Yor was struggling beneath a mob of bodyguards while one stood in front of the dog pile, breathing heavily.

They all looked in pretty bad shape, Yor had given them hell, but they had overpowered her with their numbers and the one left standing was fumbling with his gun, spilling bullets onto the floor as he hurriedly tried to reload while his comrades yelled at him to work faster while trying to keep Yor down.

(Y/n) trained her gun on the man, “Drop it!” She warned.

But the man only tried to load it faster, earning him one of (Y/n)’s own bullets.

“(Y/n)!” Yor called out.

She looked happy enough to see her, but the weight of the people on top of her made her voice sound strained and (Y/n) could already see a bruise forming on her cheek and that made her furious. The time for offering warnings was over, now they had to pay.

(Y/n) fired off the last of her bullets to take out a good portion of the pile before running up on them and striking another man with the barrel of her gun with incredible speed and accuracy. It was then that the rest of the dog pile caught up with what was happening and tried to retaliate by fighting back or putting more pressure on Yor, but (Y/n) was swift in painting the ballroom floors with their blood. So swift in fact, that she hadn’t realized she had moved at all, the only thing waking her from her trance of violence was Yor’s hug.

“(Y/n), it’s over! You did it!” She beamed.

“I… did it. I did it—!“ (Y/n) cupped Yor’s face in her bloody hands, “Are you okay? What am I saying, of course you aren’t, you’re all bruised and scratched up!”

Yor didn’t seem bothered by (Y/n)’s bloodied hands at all. In fact, she cupped her own hands over them to press them even closer to her face.

“I’m okay,” she assured chipperly, “you don’t need to worry so much!”

“I love you, so of course I’m going to worry if you’re hurt! No matter how superficial the wound—“ (Y/n) stopped abruptly, had she really just said that out loud? Looking at Yor’s expression, she definitely did.

In the past, she had let a few things slip that she had later fretted over, a few actions too, but Yor was mercifully oblivious. However, (Y/n) had never flat out told her she loved her before! Even Yor couldn’t be that oblivious, not while they stood so close together with their fingers threaded together against her cheeks.

“I- I mean—“

“I love you too!” Yor blurted passionately despite how flustered she appeared, “I was worried about you going after the target alone, and when we get separate assignments I get really worried too! I can’t go to sleep until I hear you enter the apartment.”

“You too?!”

“Yeah!”

They heard the sound of someone’s throat clearing and they leapt into defensive stances until they realized it was the orchestra organizing themselves back into position. The conductor led the orchestra into the first few notes of a song before craning their head back to give the women an encouraging nod. An unflappable bunch of musicians to say the least.

“Want to dance?” (Y/n) asked.

Yor’s eyes shimmered and she nodded excitedly, bringing (Y/n)’s hands to her waist before eagerly bringing her arms around her neck as the music began to pick up.