#and guess what??? this isn't even all of the love. just a selection. i could go on.

[samwwise]

lord of the rings + love

[gamergirl-niffler]

Being Married to Haganezuka - headcanons

Relationship between swordsmith and demon slayer was actually unheard of, but you didn't complain at all.

It was really comfortable, you lived with your husband and were close enough to be ready when needed.

Your husband was a difficult person: hot-blooded, extremely dedicated to his craft, and socially inept.

Many were sure he would never find a wife. That was until you came into the village, after all Hotaru was just a man and despite all of his heavy flaws managed to win your heart.

People hated him, and you knew that, but thankfully your presence brightened his image. Just a tiny bit. But still.

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‌He doesn't just talk about work. He rants. 

A lot, actually. 

Thanks to it, you know all about his clients, even if he has very little of those.

"I need to make new swords! And guess for who! For a kid that barely made it through Finale Selection!" Hotaru complains as you hum in acknowledgement while braiding the long black locks of your husband. "I am sure he will be like the others! Not respecting my work whatsoever!"

It's a simple routine before bed. He rants, letting out some of the frustration while your attention calms him down. It's always enough to actually allow him to properly rest during the night. 

‌Sleeping with him is yet another completely different thing.

Once the two of you get into bed, there is no running away. When his arms wrap around you, it's over, you are stuck like this until the sun rises again. He is simply not letting you go. 

Hotaru will never admit it out loud, but that's exactly what he is afraid of, you were the only woman that ever wanted him, so what would he do without you around.

You are his biggest treasure, he is not letting you go. Ever.

‌ Mornings with Haganezuka are much nicer. 

He is calm and rested as you're helping him to get ready for work right after breakfast.

"I hate that mask," You say with a grimace, while looking at the ugly mask in your hand. 

Of course, you understand the whole idea of masks but it didn't change the fact you didn't like them, you preferred to see your husband without it.

He snatches the item from your hand and hands you a shawl. "You better help me with my hair," Hotaru mutters, sitting in front of you to make it easier. "You also should get ready."

With an eye roll, you started to wrap his hair, making sure they won't bother him during the work. "I am just as ready as you are," you sum up, tying the shawl as tightly as possible. 

Once you were done he got up, put on the mask and turned to you. "I love you," he admits, while his hands move to your collar to properly button it.

Looking up at him, "I... I love you too...," you say with a soft grimace, making him frown under the mask. "What's your problem now?”

"Sorry. It's hard to say with that thing on your face," you admit slowly.

"You're annoying," He scoffs and turns to leave.

After grabbing your sword, you could follow him, walking by his side and holding his hand until you reach your post. Only then the two of you finally part ways for the day.

‌Hotaru is the one taking care of your sword. 

How could he not!

Not only he's a swordsmith, but he is also your husband, so his duty to you is doubled or even tripled! Not to mention, the sword is his own creation.

"Did you clean it? Are you sure it's clean? Maybe you chipped it? Let me see!"

You need to keep him away, using your own hands to make sure he won't get to your sword. "Hotaru, love. I am sure of all of it," You sigh, but before you know it he already has his hands on it. 

How did he even do that?! 

With careful eyes, he checks the blade and handle to be fully sure you're telling the truth. 

He couldn't allow his beloved wife to walk around with a sword that isn't properly taken care of. Hotaru wanted to be sure you are safe. "It's getting blunt. I will sharpen it for you. You can take the other one."

And just like that, your husband is off to do his things. There is no stopping him nor making him postpone the work.

Speaking about work!

Hotaru is hard working and stubborn.

Once he gets to work... He. Is. Gone. 

The mix of passion and dedication in his case are actually a "deadly" combination. There is no way of pulling him away. Sadly, even as his own wife, you don't have this privilege.

Once, when you attempted to take the sword away to stop him, Hotaru snapped at you, his voice filled with frustration. "Don't you see I'm busy? This must be done, and I won't deliver a poorly made sword!"

After that, you never tried that again.

He can be gone for the whole day and night while forging a new blade. It's annoying when you cannot spend the evening snuggling with your husband. 

‌BUT you are actually useful when he loses his temper! 

"Y/N-sama!"  One of the young apprentices yells, getting your attention immediately. Kids here love you since you are much nicer than Hotaru, but one of them approaching you while on duty isn't something usual.

"What is it? Did something happen?" You ask, giving the boy a soft smile.

Boy nodded quickly. "It's Haganezuka! He lost it again."

Letting out an annoyed sigh, you nod and quickly follow the boy just to find your husband held by three swordsmiths, while he's thrashing around to get free while another swordsmith stood nearby.

"What happened here?!" You ask with a frown. 

Hotaru growls. "He interrupted my work! I was almost done with the sword! Now I will have to start all over again! I'll kill you!"

You blink and rub your face, no matter how many times it happened, you still couldn't get used to it. "Hotaru. That's enough, let's go home. I will make you mitarashi dangos."

He immediately stops his thrashing around and looks at you. Other swordsmiths look at each other confused and slowly let him go.

Instead of attacking the man that took the sword, he walks to you and hugs you tightly. "Let's go. I want mitarashi dangos."

Of course, it's not the only situation like this. Things like this often happen because of his temper. Sometimes you need to resort to tickling his sides, but this ends in you dragging him back home and him later scolding you for even doing this.

‌ Since he works hard. He gets hurt.

Hotaru hates this, but at the same time he loves it. No one likes to get hurt, and he as a swordsmith sometimes gets his hands a little damaged in his work fever.

It's annoying. Wounds even if shallow still hurt and disturb the work.

Thankfully, he has you and he can always count on your help. He will not admit it, but he loves the way your palms feel against his own when you wrap his injuries.

You are a slayer, yet your hands are small and soft compared to his. Not to mention, you are always so gentle and careful while taking care of you. No one else can take care of his injuries just like you do.

"There you go," you say sweetly, tying a knot on a fresh bandage on his hand. Before he can thank you, you press a soft kiss to the injury. "I told you to be careful and to work less, but you never listen. Is it really that hard to listen just a little bit? For once?”

No matter how many times he returned home with cuts or/and abrasions, you always helped him and then scolded him. Normally he would get angry at someone for talking to him like this, but when it comes to you; Hotaru can't be mad, he actually feels oddly happy you do this. 

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In summary.

Hotaru is a good man. 

Others may hate him for his slightly angry nature, but that's because no one knows him like you do, not even a village chief.

He loves you in his own way and is forever grateful for you and the fact you love him back just as much.

Some people think you may regret marrying such a man, but you truly don't. He is the best thing that ever happened to you, and you wouldn't change him for anyone else.

[rusmii]

𝜗𝜚 (HIS) ONLY

ft. dazai, chuuya, atsushi, akutagawa x fem!reader ; how they spend their december with you. cws; tooth rotting fluff, not edited, may be ooc.

love, runi. dear gosh its been so long since ive written 😭... i have a nsfw draft in the works, but i was feeling fluff atm 🙂‍↕️💗. i hope i did the boys justice 😭😭 and it doesnt seem too ooc :(. additionally, i don't think i'm going to disclose the actual reason for being offline for so long. am i sorry for deactivating? nah...

the 24th — his hands ran cold, puffs of icy air battling the hot cry of warmth. he could feel the ache in his bones, yearning for the fire a room away. "isn't it cold?" you ask dazai, who was sitting upright on the edge of your shared futon. "it is," he answers, a whisper so loud, even the wind howls with it. you shift away, holding the large coze of your blanket up high, a cave forming in mere seconds. "then get in." you say with a tired face, "i'm cold too, 'samu." warm me up, he almost missed. without protest, he curls up into your arms—embrace heating the ac he calls his blood. "can't sleep?" you ask the obvious, knowing he appreciated the sentiment anyways. "no." you can feel the small shake his head makes, as slow as a toddler may stand to understand physics, dazai is the same with himself.

it was confusing, all energy he focuses on you, is forced back on him with a stern lecture from you. every bicker and mumbles of defeat helps see the purpose of your intentions. "how are you going to take care of me, when you can't take care of yourself?" a question he could argue with, but deep down—he'd ponder the same question in his head. if he took care of himself, it'd make you happy, and him feeling unsure. if he took care of you, it'd make him happy, at the cost of your disappointment with him. take care of yourself, osamu. you'd always cry sheep as you comforted him. the same building resentment of having his freedom forced onto a schedule quietly turned into appreciation for your efforts.

you didn't leave him. didn't need to help him. you did anyways, the warm flutter he always feels whenever his hand grazes yours or the accidental eye contact throughout the day, was already telling enough. dazai wasn't obligated to show any gratefulness, and neither were you—yet you still did it. and every year since the day of your anniversary, there was always something special waiting for him. clothes, games, your love; everything, was there, in a box wrapped with his blues and your yellows. he envisions each gift to the tune of a shake from the box. each of them perfect, and what he preferred to have on this special occasion.

the 24th, his special gift waiting for you under the tree. to be opened, to be named, that's up to you to guess. but the small gift glistening underneath, cannot wait 'til morning. "i wonder what you got me." he feels your chest rumble softly. in almost an instant, the wear and tear of his job finally catches up to him. "you'll find out soon." dazai smiles against your chest, the soothing lullaby of your breathing nearly puts him to sleep. "happy anniversary, osamu. i hope you'll like my gift tomorrow." a few small circles rub dazai's head. he doesn't fall asleep until you do first. "i know i will," his voice quieter, gentler, matching the tempo of the dying breeze. and you'll love mine too, goes unheard. baby steps, baby steps were still baby steps.

the 25th — you looked just like a dream, the prettiest girl he's ever seen. in chuuya's mind, nothing quite comes and goes as slowly as your beauty. in fact, everyone assumes it's permanent by how he's so enamored—consumed with adoration. it should come as a surprise to no one, when he gifts you a personalized advent calendar to count down the days of his super secret selection of affection that chosen day. first it was hugs all day, then came kisses on the 3rd, and—oh he was so overwhelming with his love! and yet, you could never be bore of it. an excited squeal always left your mouth as soon the clock hit midnight, chuuya already making preparations for his swooning affection for the month of deer. "how's today?" he asks, seeking your approval from the early box picking. "perfect," you say, "i think you'll have me falling from the balcony with the way i'm falling for everything you do for me." he chuckles, "don't die yet, you still have a day, counting six extra, left."

the following day, you're awoken to the soft scent of cinnamon and marshmallows filling the tiniest gaps of air. you struggle to waken fully, still groggy from your late night endeavors with chuuya. matter of fact, where was he? it wasn't unusual for him to leave in the yawn of morning hours, but on his month off.. assuming the solution by the smell, you make way to the kitchen where chuuya stood behind a counter. he notices you in his vision before releasing a blinging smile. "good mornin' beautiful." a wink catches your eye, "couldn't sleep without me?" he says while patting fluffy pancakes down, each stacked imperfectly delicious with a drizzle of syrup and fruits decorating it. "and if i did?" you match his tease, creating an easy tension that could dissolve in any minute.

"well then, i won't keep ya' waiting." his lips form a familiar slant. using his ability to carry the plates and breakfast stand, chuuya's arms are already lifting you bridal. "why're you out of bed? i thought i gave myself enough time to surprise you." he nearly pouts to your face, not embarrassed to do so in front of you. you laugh it off, " 'tis okay, chu." booping him, he drops you onto the bed as some sort of petty revenge. "only if you say so." his lips met your cheek, propping the breakfast tray as you perched on your bottom. your stomach growled in anticipation, kneading the inner lining of your stomach. "well?" he asks, awaiting your approval once again. you picked up a fork and stabbed it into the fluffy pancake. bringing it up to his face, you tell him to open his mouth.

"first bite!" you nudge it closer, "okay," and without another word, chuuya took the entire thing into his mouth, "mmm - wow delicious. why don't you say; thank you chef nakahara." the mischievous in his tone was hard to miss—a smirk you wanted to wipe off his face. "you're welcome my princess." a giggle escaped with it. acting annoyed with the nickname, chuuya sneakily placed a dot of syrup on your cheek. "chuuya!" you gasp, scrambling to wipe away the sticky substance. "my bad, dear prince."

a small smack hit his shoulder, "go away!" nodding his head, he moves to get up, but is stopped by a small tug on his arm. "and bring me my gifts please." he thinks for a moment, arms relaxing and his body sinking back onto the bed. "oh? you mean the ones i threw in the fire to keep you warm last night? those presents? from under the tree?—ow! kidding!" he threw his arms up in surrender after getting smacked again, this time harder.

the 16th — when it came to december, atsushi was no stranger to the cold weather. being nearly stripped of everything but rags for clothes, he often got sick without compromise from the orphanage. when it came to his life in the agency—his life with you—he was taken care of, given affection he was denied, able to show the vulnerability the director shut down. in his own little mind, you were the stage centerpiece; a transition from the filthy pinecone to the golden star he finally got to place on his tree. "quiet," he almost flinches, until he heard a melody instead of the desolate, angry, mob. he opened his eyes, eyes blinding him with your beauty. "an angel?" he questions, still hazed from his pain. "no," you laugh, replacing the towel on his head, "[name]."

"[name]..." he repeats, affirming his belief of being fine and alive. in your shared home—kyouka standing beside you. "is he going to be okay?" her weary voice echoes concern, to which you pat her head and tell her to fetch some more water. "of course he is, he's atsushi. i need a refill, can you do it for me?" with kyouka hurriedly jogging away, you're left alone with atsushi. he moans, his joints aching with every twist. "are you doing okay?" you ask, rubbing soft circles on his palm. "feel so nauseous." he mumbles, throat hoarse like the attack on trojans. you cooed, a sweet lullaby that comforts him through thick and thin, "feel better soon, m'kay?" he bobs his head like copier, obedient. atsushis' peace answers with silence.

admist your little moment, kyouka arrives back with the water in hand. she hands you the small bowl and takes her seat next to you again. "he seems at ease," she notes. "does he?" you question, busying yourself with replacing the towel every now and then. "mhm," she nods, "i'm glad." a small smile comes foward on her dollified expression. kyouka also takes notice of the faint blush resting on his face, daint and obvious. she doesn't speak up about it, opting to pop the question in when atsushi was better. for now, she'll wonder what you two had talked about while she was out of the room.

the 31st — if akutagawa had any say about attending any gift-related events, he'd stay home. if akutagawa had any shred of empathy left, he'd conserve it just for you. a mistake, honestly. he curses to the devils' and above for forcing his heart to ponder sweetly for you. "no," he says, unwavering in his decision. "but, ryu!!" you whine so casually, wanting him to give in and get out of his comfort zone. you knew it wasn't an easy task, seeing as your beloved friend preferred to stay within the four white walls the port mafia created. "annoying," he grumbles, eyes tilting blinding anger, "leave me be." he shoves past you, destined to cast away your binding spell. you stand there, resolve strong as ever while defending against hollow words. "be that way," you sigh, "but before you leave, let me give you this." you pull out a small present, throwing it to akutagawa who caught it with rashomon.

"what's this?" he inquired, an annoyed grunt passing his lips when you don't answer and turn on your heels to leave. annoying, he thinks again. he decides to unravel his gift later, when he was in the comforts of his own home. "what's inside?" gin poked at it, wanting her brother to hurry it up already. "don't know, [name] gave it to me]." he sighs—a gentle remonstrance. gin nods in understanding, waiting eagerly for her brother to tear the paper apart. inside laid a small box, "is it jewelry?" akutagawa shrugged his shoulds, "might be."

he uncovers the tiny trinket inside. it appeared to be a plain, silver lining necklace with nothing attached. at the bottom of the box, a note read; a pitiful necklace for your grey home, truly, a noteworthy gift you thought of. "seems like [name] really likes you," gin jokes about. akutagawa was quick to shut it down though, not in the mood to entertain any lovey dovey tease. "alright, alright," she giggles, "are you going to the party tonight?" she switches the topic. the mafia didn't often hold parties—this year being an exception—to keep their reputation in check. "no, i don't think i will." gin pouts at her brothers' rejection. "i won't force you, but maybe you'd enjoy it." you'll see [name], is what she's implying. as much as he can deny the pointed accusations, it was obvious to others around, that akutagawa held a soft spot for you. he grounded himself, "no." his mental fortude will not be broken down by measly gifts. "mhm–okay," gin hides her grin exceptionally well.

on the day of the party, you're feeling gorgeous in your outfit, hair done and kept to match it. you greet others with polite grace, "good evening to you too executive ozaki." you return her greeting. she does a curt bow before leaving the short talk. hunger gnawed a tight grip on your stomach, a loud growl emitting nothing against the loud chatter of the room. you scan the area for the nearest buffet table to ease your hunger. spotting none, you traverse the mounts of cleanliness ordor into another area of the building, where you laid eyes on an exquisite high-top table filled to the edge of some of your favorites. your inner-self squealed in excitement, still needing to maintain your professional composure while walking down to it.

the closer you got, a familiar voice rang nearby. "i'd rather not talk about it," he adjusts the chain sitting on his neck, your eyes catching wind of his movements unbeknownst to him. "aww, c'mon akutagawa! just tell us!!" tachihara whined drunkenly, using gin as support as he leaned on her. "no," he says. "my brother is a little shy on the outside. don't worry tachihara–i promise he's feeling fluttery on the inside." gin reassures her friend with light taps on his hand. "am not." he glares, hardly ever removing that mean scowl of his. tachihara was about to make a scene until he flinched from your voice, "it's all in the tone, tachi," your half assed smirk eased in—delighted to see akutagawa wearing your gift, "the chain suits you, doesn't it?" you smile, that teasing glint shining in your teeth nearly makes the man in question falter.

"it does," he mutters, walking away with a clenched heart—the blush on the tip of his ears giving away his true feelings.

@ rusmii—everything is owned by mayira, she doesn't appreciate copyright breaches.

anyways lil rant at the bottom but, if ur not a writer, then u have no right to complain abt the amount of smut to fluff ratio 😭 (even then, as a writer, u should understand that complaining is not going to change anything).

im also tired of yall bitching abt everything in the x reader tag 😐 gtfo the place where ppl come to READ fics, not read ur bitching 🙏!

[complaining abt xyz] "oh im going to put this in the x reader tags to gain attention and sympathy for my cause!" OH MY FUCKING GOD SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

anyways, hello guys ik i wasn't gone for that long, but it feels like forever (cause i haven't written anything good yes ik). buuut.. my hyperfixiation on bsd isnt leaving anytime soon so why not make the most of it rn and write again. next fic is def smut 😴🤞.

[kiyo-cant-write]

Heyya, I have comeback with an idea. I'm sure you'll like it too. Still I will bring this guy up, but you can add your favorite .

So Yuu got sick, heavily sick. The boys sometimes comes to visit and take care of Yuu. i also found out that when someone got sick, they crave sweet and carbs. So imagine Yuu heavily sick, walking down the stair of their own dorm craving sweet. Just to get sweet jam and bread and they seemed to be a brink of passing out, unless they got their sweet jam bread.

As always I bring Silver, but you can add your own favorite character too if you want.

- 🎵 anon

silver & malleus with a sick!reader ✧･ﾟ

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Hello anon! I am so sorry this took me so long! My health and uni work always takes precedence but I do love writing for this blog even if I lack the time to do so... ^^

I like writing for Diasomnia, they're silly xD Malleus is my favorite but I love them all sm. I added Lillia as a guest star only but was tempted to make him his own scenario... Maybe next time.

Thank you for requesting!!!

Note for everyone that I have a few requests left from earlier to get done before the close of the year and then everything else sent from here on will not be posted until 2025 January. Please keep this in mind, thank you for supporting me!

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Summary: The reader gets taken care of by Silver/Malleus when sick.

TW/CW: mentions of illness/symptoms

Notes: pre-relationship, the reader is Ramshackle Prefect/Yuu, they/them pronouns for the reader, Malleus' "incident" is from canon

Guest Stars: Lilia Vanrouge. Grim

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Silver

Silver has been sick a few times when he was young.

However, he quickly built a strong immune system from having to eat Lilia's cooking and train as a child.

The last time Silver was especially sick was when he was 8 or 9.

Because of his experience with humanity, he knows a bit about treating illnesses. Still, he would rather ask someone to be sure.

Unsure of whether the school nurse would be busy or not, he selects his father (Lilia) to ask. Father is very knowledgeable.

Between Lilia's advice and his own knowledge, Silver is prepared enough and manages to be a help not a hindrance.

He does get into a small spat with Grim, though, for invading Grim's territory.

Silver wasn't sure what was happening, but the pot hadn't boiled over even with his nodding off. Still, he was surprised that the kitchen was still usable. At first, he had planned to tough it out himself when [Name] got sick but he now had the help of his father and Grim (though Grim had initially tried to burn Silver for entering his esteemed territory).

"Isn't it easier to work together?" Silver asked, directing his question to Grim who huffed despite agreeing with the white-haired boy.

"Myaa, I guess so."

Grim's tail flicked in annoyance with the situation. He had become even more irritable since finding that he was not allowed to be a glutton with the soup they were making. It wasn't for him and Grim seemed offended by that fact.

"Silver," Lilia said a moment later, "Are you sure I can't add things to this? I know of some hearty things sure to get [Name] back to good health."

Lilia held up something that Silver trusted less than he'd trust Sebek with a chainsaw. It was a vibrant purple and somehow also a neon green and smelled strange, reminding Silver of the strange things he had eaten as a child whenever he was sick. Lilia cared, surely, but those plants were... bitter and sometimes nauseating to even imagine.

He shook his head. That could not be fed to an already-sick [Name].

They would get sicker!

"No, you know how I feel about your soup. I just needed help chopping things since [Name] might be sick for a while."

Lilia shrugged.

"More for me later then~" he told Silver.

Silver did not ask about that comment.

"Are they going to be okay?" Grim asked, pawing Silver.

"Certainly," the boy assured, "They just seem to have something that will take some time and rest to recover from."

"If you say so..."

Silver wished he was better with words and could reassure Grim of [Name]'s safety. However, he wasn't sure what to say or how to explain it. He was focusing so intently on the soup and on staying awake that little else could enter his mind.

The room filled with the gentle aroma of the homemade soup as the recipe was completed. Silver turned off the burner.

"And I can't have some?" Grim asked, whining.

"You can have some of my veggies~" Lilia told him with a smirk.

"NO! THAT'S POISON!" Grim shouted, ducking behind Silver for protection from the feared veggies Lilia held.

"Surely, it isn't. I promise," Lilia chuckled darkly.

"Father, don't harass Grim," Silver chided the old fae, "And Grim, you can have some but most of it is for [Name] if we want them to recover well."

Grim nodded slowly.

"Fine..."

Silver ignored the continued bickering between his father and Grim as he ladled soup into a bowl. It was warm and filled with all kinds of [normal] vegetables. It should help them!

"YOU JUST WANNA SEE ME GAG ON THAT PLANT!"

"No, no, it's good for you."

"IS NOT!"

"You won't know unless you try it."

Silver placed the bowl onto a wooden tray that [Name] had in a drawer in the kitchen. This would be easy to carry up the stairs to [Name]'s room. Holding a bowl of hot soup might... hurt. It was rather hot, but hot food was good for someone who was sick.

He considered asking Grim to come with him but when he turned to head towards the bedroom, both Grim and his father were gone. Where had they gotten off to? Were they fighting? If they were fighting he might try and stop them...

But he needed to focus on [Name]'s health.

He knocked on the door.

"[Name]? Are you awake?" he asked but he only heard some coughing in return, "Alright, well I'm coming inside."

He pushed the door open and walked up to the bed. There sat [Name], coughing softly with a flushed face and sweaty forehead.

"Hey, Sil," they managed after the coughing subsided, "Is that for me?"

They looked curiously at the tray and he leaned forward to set it on their lap, balancing it so it wouldn't spill and then pulling away.

"I made you some soup to quicken your recovery," he told them.

[Name] looked at the bowl and then at Silver.

"Aww, thank you," they said, coughing a few times because of the strain on their vocal cords, "That's really sweet... of you."

"I hope that it helps, I don't like to see you so uncomfortable."

"You made this for me so it'll help me for sure," they told him with a smile, "I appreciate this."

[Name] tried not to think of the implications of being cared for by someone like this... It was so domestic.

"Ah, well, I'm glad."

Silver offered them a soft smile which they returned.

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Malleus Draconia

Malleus thinks that humans are very fragile. Too much so.

He hates to think that an illness could take [Name] from him.

This fae is also unfamiliar with human illnesses and remedies.

He consults Lilia on the proper way to heal a human.

However, in his inexperience with human technology... some things are lost in translation and what Malleus ends up doing is far from what Lilia meant or what would have helped.

Malleus considers that he should have asked Silver.

[Name], sick as they are, may have to explain what they need to Malleus even if it takes them some energy to do so.

Once he has a clear explanation of what to do... he will do it.

Even if his crazy OP magic ability gets in the way somewhat.

Somehow, through this, Ramshackle is not destroyed.

Malleus wasn't sure if this was right. Looking at the kitchen around him, he feared he might have made things more difficult for [Name]. What would they think when they awoke? The kitchen was in utter disarray, there were pots in the sink and ingredients on the floor.

This was all because of that damned thing.

Truly, Malleus did not have any of the patience needed for these human contraptions. What in the world did they invent them for if they didn't work? He sighed to himself as he imagined how easy this might have been otherwise.

Still, he was a respectful fae and he had promised [Name] weeks before to follow one rule when at Ramshackle: no giant shows of fae magic. At first, he had been insulted, but [Name] (and Lilia) had pointed out that his magic was strong and he could destroy the dorm. It pained him to imagine making them sad, so he had agreed.

"I'd best contact Lilia..." Malleus said to himself, knowing he was the only person in the dorm besides the illness-ridden [Name], Grim, and the ghosts who seemed frightened of him still.

Malleus: Lilia.

Lilia: hmm? what's up, malleus? :3

Malleus: [Name] is sick. What should I do?

Lilia: You can try to make some soup for them.

Lilia: Soup helps when humans are sick.

Lilia: I used to make some fire ones for Silver when he was a boy.

Malleus: Fire? Flames?

Lilia: Human slang. It means "good."

Clicking the picture Lilia had sent of his hand-written list, Malleus noted that these were all what was deemed as "healthy." Was this all supposed to go into the soup? Malleus wasn't sure. Some of it seemed like it wouldn't be the best-tasting soup if it were combined with the other things on Lilia's list.

Pumpkin sardine strawberry liver soup?

As Malleus continued to look through the list, his phone shut the app he was using accidentally. It must have crashed. Fiddling with the phone, Malleus tried but was unsuccessful in bringing the list back up. His frustrations crushed the phone to bits.

Well, isn't that just great? Another one is dead. Always difficult creatures, cell phones.

But Malleus was not going to give up so easily. This illness would not take his Child of Man from him. No, it would not. Putting what remained of his phone into his pocket (he would bother Lilia and Silver about it later), he turned back to the messy kitchen (all his own fault).

"I will make soup or die trying," he told himself, "I promise."

A few minutes passed and an explosion rang through the house.

"Mal... Malleus?? What are you doing?" [Name] asked, standing in the kitchen doorway and coughing from a mixture of sickness and inhaling the smoke from the (minor, in comparison to last time) explosion.

"Making your wellness soup."

Malleus said this as though it was obvious.

"Whatever soup it is, it's probably burnt," they told him, coughing again, "Cooking from scratch is hard, it's why I just have the canned stuff like Grim's tuna."

"Canned..." Malleus echoed.

That might have been easier, at least.

"Yeah, it's microwaveable," [Name] said, walking into the burnt kitchen to find the canned soup from the cupboard.

"Oh, I'm not allowed to touch those things. Lilia's orders."

Malleus disliked remembering that time.

"...What?" [Name] responded head in a cabinet.

Did they hear him right?

"There was an incident," Malleus said as an explanation.

It was not a very good explanation.

[Name] chose to ignore it and sighed. Must be a fae thing.

Holding the can, they opened it quickly and dumped the contents into a bowl in one motion, trying not to cough too much as they did so. If Malleus was going to blow up Ramshackle, it was probably better that they cooked for themselves.

Malleus seemed to be pouting in the background.

"..."

"You tried your best, I appreciate it," they told him.

"I am sorry about your kitchen."

"It's fine, Grim did worse trying to make a casserole with the ghosts. Something about it only needing 3 seconds in the oven if it was a certain temperature?"

[Name] laughed.

If they were smiling like that... How could Malleus stay upset? Besides, there was more he could do to help the sick human, right? Malleus was not going to leave [Name]'s side. Not now, not yet.

"That does make sense though. If it was hot enough would that not quicken the speed?"

[Name] gave the fae prince a look.

"Malleus Draconia, don't make me make a rule about no dragons cooking in my kitchen..."

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

[meanbossart]

Hi RJ, I deeply deeply love your art, your style is amazing and your Astarion is one of my favourite renditions. Thank you so much.

I would like to ask you a rather specific question about your process, if you’re alright with that.

What thought process goes behind choosing a color for your lights and shadows? How do you do it?

I think you’re a master in creating a mood with light and the colors you choose really make DU Drow look like himself (true drow skin, just like i imagined it before ever picking up non-table top version of anything d&d!!) and gives your astarion this gremlin-like soft ugliness lol

Anyway, take care and thank you for any tips xx

Thank you so much! Colorful art is kind of a "new" thing for me, I used to do mostly black & white for comics and such. When I got into BG3 and decided to wanted to draw all these silly ideas out, I realized I was gonna have to venture back into it - It's far too colorful a world to get away with grays and inks alone.

What I'm saying is that I'm still very much learning! I'm glad you guys like my art but I definitely feel like my grasp on color isn't all it could be. I just do what I think looks good and makes sense with the setting!

First of all I think it's important to note that I usually have several different layers of shadow and light. FOR EXAMPLE:

AND THEN FOR LIGHTS... Each text color is a different layer, and that's not even all of them 😂

And the reason for keeping them separate is this: when first painting them on, I make a rough guess on the color, AND THEN-

Yup. I just fuck around with this until I'm happy.

Usually this lands me on (very muted) blueish or purple-y tones for shadows on a multiply layer, with the "base" shadow and for the lights it can be all matter of colors depending on necessity. You can also select your flats and individually change these colors per-surface. You learn what you like as you go! This isn't even a rock solid formula, I still experiment a lot and depending on the piece, the process can be both a lot simpler or a lot more complex than this.

A rule of thumb to start with is that natural light will usually constitute of gray shadows and very, very soft-yellow light - if there is even a need for any depending on your base colors/style. Night settings usually necessitate a slight blue hue on both shadows and light... However, this is art baby, do whatever makes you go "oh that's sick" when you look at it.

As for DU drow's skin, it is nothing but a mix of a grayish/brown base, shadow, and a reflective light! That's what sets him apart from the way I color light-skinned characters; light, when bouncing off his skin, usually (but not always) has a gem-like blue color. You can have all kinds of variations of this combo to give the skin on darker characters more depth.

[sainzsiren]

HUGS

featuring: oscar, daniel, charles, lando, ollie, arthur

cw: a little angst i guess but nothing serious and swearing

ᡣ𐭩 oscar piastri

oscar is a polite cat. this is a known fact. it is also a known fact that cats are selective about the people they trust. luckily for you, oscar has put all his trust in you. you knew he had a rough day. he had been gone before you woke up and was just now getting back after you had already eaten dinner. you could see the exhaustion dripping off of him, eye bags evident and shoulders hunched. he greeted you with a small smile and then wrapped his arms around you. you could feel him relax as you stood together, his arms around your shoulders and yours around his middle. he places the most gentle kiss on your temple and whispered how he had missed you. there's nothing that makes him happier than coming home to you.

ᡣ𐭩 daniel ricciardo

daniel is sunshine in human form and finds joy in making other people laugh and feel good. but sometimes, he can get tired just like everyone else. he had been quiet all day but said he was fine when you asked. by mid afternoon, it was apparent that something was really wrong. you walked from the kitchen to your shared room to find him on the bed answering emails, looking like he wanted to curl up and die. you gave him a look, your eyes screaming 'tell me what's wrong'. he gave you one right back that said, 'talk later, hold me now.' he shuffled so he was sitting at the edge of the bed and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he wrapped his around your waist. he pressed his head into your chest as you ran your fingers through his curls and he realized in that moment that you were exactly what needed. then and now, forever and always.

ᡣ𐭩 charles leclerc

charles isn't the biggest hugger. he'd rather wrap an arm around you and place a kiss on your cheek, so when he does cave and hug you, it's even more special. you hadn't seen him in two weeks because of work. you guys had talked on the phone and texted constantly, but it wasn't the same. when he picked you up at the airport, he grabbed you and lifted you off the ground, spinning you like how they do in movies. "i've missed you, mon amour," he says as he puts you down. he pulls away and smiles at you, and before you can smile back he pulls you back in for another hug. "what's this about, charlie?" you ask. "i don't know, i just really missed you."

ᡣ𐭩 lando norris

it doesn't matter if you're happy or sad, lando just wants to be close to you. you were in the paddock grabbing food with oscar's girlfriend, lily, in between free practice one and two when he snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing kisses to your exposed shoulder and neck. lily giggled, giving you knowing look that said 'he would do anything for you.' and it was true. he would. he would give you a million dollars or kisses if you asked, and give you a million hugs without you having to ask or think about it.

ᡣ𐭩 ollie bearman

ollie hugs are the best. staying true to his last name, he really does give a bear hug. he walked into hospitality after a great qualifying and his face lit up when he saw you. "hey bear," you said, your smile creeping into your words. he immediately pulled you into a tight hug. his thumb lightly tracing circles on your shoulder. he starts to rock you back and forth and you can feel his contentment as he rests his chin on the top of your head. his height makes hugs even better because he is able to envelop you like your own person blanket, or even better your own oversized teddy bear.

ᡣ𐭩 arthur leclerc

let's be honest, arthur is hot. like really hot. and he loves that you think he's attractive and sometimes get a little embarrassed about it. he had just finished working out and was walking through your shared bedroom to the bathroom so he could shower, but he felt your eyes on him. he looked up from his phone to find you staring, your lips slightly parted and your book completely forgotten on your lap. he smirked and said, "like what you see?" classic. but you couldn't help it! he looked so good. the arms. the waist. the layer of sweat that made him glisten. you looked away in embarrassment and he just laughed. that cocky motherfucker. he grabbed your hand and gently pulled you out of bed and into a hug. you hid your face in his neck and be gave you a squeeze. he pulled back to see your blush had worsened, quickly deciding to kiss your forehead and pull you back in so you could hide again. curse his hotness.

[sahisan]

silence.

tomioka giyuu x gn!reader.

⭒ summary: everyone knows that giyuu isn't much of a talker, so this depicts the silent moments with him that you both have come enjoy.

⭑ cw: sfw. mentions of giyuu's past (final selection w sabito). a bit of angst. reader is bad at comforting. giyuu loves you sm. like loves.

⭒ wc: 2.8k.

⭑ a/n: this took me too long wth, almost a month i fear lol. this was written during my demon slayer hyperfixation comeback (it's gone now) so uh. also acheron fic coming soon (i hope soon)! pls like and reblog !!

it wasn't exactly silence after giyuu finished speaking. there were sounds of birds chirping, wind occasionally blowing, resulting in sounds of swaying leaves on the trees being more audible. some even fell because of the invisible force of the air, ending up meeting the gravel ground near the engawa.

having told a good share of his past to you—precisely about sabito and the final selection, which were the main reason he wasn't exactly thrilled about taking part in the hashira training—giyuu decided to stop himself from telling you any more, choosing to leave other topics for later.

but will you still have this 'later' now that he's shared even a small bit of himself?

to you, the silence was awkward. not having the faintest idea of what to say in reply to that wasn't exactly what you would want to experience, yet here you were. it felt useless even trying to think of something, to try and make something up in your mind, even taking a bit more time than you usually do when thinking of a response, bur nothing could've prepared you to thinking of what to reply to this.

it made your stomach churn with how you realised you couldn't seem to know what to do, what to say, how to comfort him; the closest to you person finally started to open uo, little by little, bit by bit and you instead feel like an immobile log, only being able to sit there and listen, not being able to muster up a word of comfort.

and you know, you know that it's because you've never heard the said words of colsolation in your life; thus, you didn't know how to comfort giyuu.

another gust of wind blew through the air, nearly ruffling your and his hair, and for a moment you think of giyuu with his hair no longer in a low ponytail, but instead it being messy and disarranged and you think of running your fingers through it. you hope you'll have such opportunity, even if only once.

another fallen onto your lap leaf helped you out of your thoughts; it would be even more awkward if you hadn't managed to say something at all, daydreaming and continuing on staying silent. you take the leaf between your fingers before it manages to fly away and take a look at it; elm.

"i'm... sorry," you finally spoke, voice quiet as to not disturb anything around. you felt so meek just hearing your own voice. "i don't really know what to say. but i'm sorry for what happened with sabito."

you took a pause; you were never one to have a good way with words, and it made everything even worse in this situation.

"just know that... i'm here for you whenever you want to talk to me about anything. i'll listen."

giyuu's head was in the same position as yours—lowered to look down at his lap. he couldn't say the atmosphere was tense, no, not at all. he knew this was a lot to digest in such a small period of time, no matter how long you've been silent, and he could see your hesitation in choosing the right words; you surely didn't voice your inability to properly comfort him, but didn't blame you for your lack in knowledge about it. he could guess why.

"it's alright," he said just as quietly, silently exhaling a small breath. it felt as if it was easier to breathe now that he had shared this bit of his past to you. "it was about time i told you anyways. i'm already glad you listened. don't bother with words."

you still felt that just listening wasn't enough.

"have you eaten yet?" giyuu broke another silence after a few more minutes of listening to the wind's unregulated breathing, wishing to change the topic to not overexert you mentally any further—what he's told you was enough and it wasn't like he wanted you to dwell on that story. he simply wanted you to know.

"forgot to."

giyuu knew quite well as of now that you tended to, much to his dismay, forget to have some of the meals throughout the day, and it didn't make it better when you could even skip lunch because of training or meetings or anything at all. once, he even told you that he was going to forbid you to enter the training grounds unless you've had at least two meals throughout the day. it's safe to say he physically couldn't do so, so for that period of time you and your exercises were safe.

giyuu didn't need to hear more from you. standing up from his sitting position on the engawa, he then offered you a hand to help you up. and with the gesture, you both knew that there was no need for more words.

the silence in the small soba restaurant never bothered you; it's a place where people came to eat, not to talk, after all. you two were the only people inside for now, but the sounds of utensils clanking and the smell of more food being cooked in the kitchen were very much present, and still, besides that, it was silent.

and still, your mind never seemed to get over how giyuu just brushed your inability to utter something reassuring off. maybe he didn't even want and didn't need the comfort you failed to provide; maybe he expected something like that from you, judging from your earlier reaction to his words just as he'd started talking. yes, he must've known you were bad at feelings, especially other people's, but was he used to it? he undeniably looked like he was, and that was just sad.

chopsticks carefully picking up the soba and guiding them into your mouth, noticing giyuu doing the same near you, your mind picked up the thought that, probably, saying something regarding what he told you about would be inappropriate, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of needing to get something out; something that could just show him that you understand him that much, at least.

"sabito would most definitely be out to get you for the mindset you have now."

out of the corner of your eye you notice that giyuu's hand, previously holding his chopsticks with a bit of noodles picked up, stops. it's not at all an abrupt stop, more like when coming to a thought one's mind has been chasing for a while already. you stop, too, having finished chewing.

and when the silence between you two starts feeling a little too long and a little too tense, and you start thinking that you may have said a very wrong and inappropriate thing, giyuu speaks up in a such relaxed and unimpressed manner that you involuntarily start questioning your choice of words. you'd expected him to get mad or upset, but not—

"you for yours, too."

oh.

"...touchè."

well.

the nights are—mostly—always silent.

the nights spent with giyuu are silent in their own, unmistakable way.

you two seem to create another form of serenity together—everything becomes as still as possible, wind appearing barely once for a few moments to ruffle the trees' leaves and then disappear without a trace.

your head is gently laid on giyuu's lap and gaze fixed on the night sky above with the stars filling the inky abyss, each sparkling more than the previous, as if trying to catch your attention, your eyes move from one to another, wanting to get a look at them all, wanting to engrave the look of them in your mind and keep it here; but there was just so much — you aren't sure if there even exists a number as big as the number of stars up there.

("do you think we get a star out there after death?"

"...maybe."

"would you try to look for mine when i die?"

"..."

"...sorry."

"...i would.")

with giyuu still looking somewhere in front of him—you can't quite decipher where, maybe he's just spaced out—your hand somewhere a bit lower your chest and his hand laying loosely over yours, you close your eyes and slowly inhale the night air; it smells of pine and momentarily happiness.

a few moments later giyuu's head tangibly shifts, and, having little self-restraint when it comes to curiosity, you open your eyes again—maybe he'd be looking at something different now?

and as your eyelids open, you find him to be staring at no one other than you.

eyes usually cold as a snowstorm and endless as the abyss above you both have now descended to endearment and devotion as they look into yours. they twitch slightly lower and to the side, watching your lips for a few seconds, before coming back upwards to your eyes.

he's so enchanting—close to being as enchanting as the stars he's now blocking your view of. maybe he even looks like one in your mind, or maybe it's just his endless eyes, the colors of which blend into the matching endless night sky. you notice yourself not minding the blocked view if the one doing it is giyuu.

with the main sight now being his eyes instead of the gleaming celestial bodies—you can't exactly complain—you feel like staring into them an eternity more, and then another and another until you've memorized each and every pattern in them. and you're sure that if eyes could talk, both your and his would scream affection.

"you're blocking the view," you say, having no more stars to see right in front of you, them being replaced with giyuu's face.

"you seem to be enjoying it all the same," giyuu declares, unimpressed, despite his eyes narrowing the slightest bit in amusement. you're pretty sure his mouth's corners nearly curve upwards. you would've loved to witness him smile, especially at the moment.

you hum quietly, eyes wandering over his face—how can one attract so much? and it's not just about his beauty; he's everything you've ever needed and didn't know you ever needed in your life. "i never said i wasn't enjoying it."

giyuu, too, can't seem to be able to tear his eyes away from you—starting from your eyes as well, they descend lower to your lips (he's a very patient man), neck—and he regrets both of you being too shy and humble to try and leave hickeys on each other, he would enjoy that sight very much—then your uniform which just suits you so much, and, in the end, your hand, one of which is held by his—when did he go from it simply lying on top of yours to holding it?—and he involuntarily laces your fingers together slowly, eyes following each and every movement. your hands are almost just as his—arms a bit scarred underneath the clothes, skin on the palms calloused from holding your katanas, along with healed nicks and occasional cuts.

humming as well in acknowledgement of your words, his gaze follows the trail back to your face and settle back on your eyes. he has to remind himself to not look into them too long, fearing he'd get too lost in their infinite beauty.

"we could stay like this forever," giyuu suddenly speaks up, and with the quietness of the words said they don't seem to disturb the silence at all.

"we could."

you get what he's trying to say. there was never enough time for both of you since the moment you've joined the demon slayers, and then the hashiras, signing yourself a death warrant when doing so; it's pointless to deny the truth and the inevitable, and you both long learned to embrace it.

but all the sadness and inevitableness can be forgot at times like these, right? even just for the night or for a few hours before the two of you go back to your routine duties.

"but what would you do then?" you continue, being tempted into asking the question with the smallest teasing lilt in your voice, as if prompting him to speak about his feelings about you.

feelings are hard, especially for someone like him—especially for someone with the past and job he has—but slowly, bit-by-bit, step-by-step, you try to get him to understand them, even if you're lost in your own and sometimes can't find a way out of your own feelings. you guess it comes with the job.

guyuu stops to think for, maybe, a bit more than a minute or two, and lets the silence embrace both of you again. again, it's never tense with him (you don't really want to remember the time he told you about sabito, though it still lingers in the back of your mind and comes up in the most unpleasant times), as you two gratefully grab onto the every little bit of serenity and peace you have.

while he thinks, your gaze, once again, roams over his face, with the twinkling stars now serving as a simple background for what—who—you're seeing, being a pleasant compliment to the sight in front of you. moonlight obligingly illuminates a great half of his face, letting you see most details on it, and who would you be if you missed on this opportunity?

nearly just as he's about to start talking, his lips opening and, dear gods above, he can sense your eyes shifting to his moving lips. it's always with you that he feels like a teenager—not really lovey-dovey, but it's a fact that he lets himself be more open to feelings with you.

"i would..." giyuu starts, taking a small break before continuing—to gather his thoughts, knowing you're watching him as intently as you can, and it's not in the least bit uncomfortable as it would be if it wasn't you.

"i would look at you," he says. "for the rest of eternity. i wouldn't want to do anything else besides it."

as he finishes speaking, you slowly but surely feel the tips of your ears becoming a shade of red; thankfully, it's not your face. yet.

"is that so?" you manage to whisper out, taking slow and barely audible breaths to try and calm your fast beating heart. he probably can hear it with how your back lays on his lap, but that doesn't really matter. "wouldn't you get bored?"

"never."

you're sure your face gets a small tint of red.

you, involuntarily, hold your breath after his words, eyes widening a tad bit, and it's only a few seconds later that you quietly exhale the air you didn't know you have been holding in.

the words he says are so simple—but he does have a way with them, and that's what makes you love him more and more with each syllable leaving his lips.

there's moonlight illuminating his—and your—face, and you seem to notice it just now. it shines onto a great half of his face, letting you see even more details on his skin, and if it was illegal to stare for so long, you'd be long behind bars, living your worst ever imaginable life without having something as precious and pretty as giyuu to look at.

his eyes shift. you get the hint just as his gaze moves onto your lips—you've been looking at them so attentively, it'd be a shame if you didn't notice that.

having taken a, supposedly, not so fitting of a position to kiss, you have to sit up using your hands and place them on the grass beneath you to hold yourself up, and your face moves just enough for him to understand. you don't make any rash movements; you're careful but your intentions are evident.

giyuu's face shifts closer, too. it moves forward until he feels like both your and his lips are soon to meet together. one look into each other's eyes is all it takes for his appearance to soften and lean towards you.

your lips touch in a kiss and you feel like you could die right now and there because of how soft it feels, coming from him, usually so sharp and harsh; it feels like your lips are melting together but you don't have it in you to mind—it's been far too long since you two have had any time to yourselves and your small affections and you don't know when you'll have another night like this.

his eyes settle closed the same time as yours do, and as much as you like looking at him, it just helps the atmosphere around you even more. giyuu's lips slowly, gently move against yours and you just happen to think of how tender they are, and that warms your chest more than anything.

it's silent and wordless with giyuu, and you just happen to love it.

[meguwumibear]

cant stop thinking about fake dating monoma....

"You're asking me out?" he laughs. Monoma laughs with his whole body. Mouth. Stomach. Hands. He uses them all as he insults you. "My how the mighty have fallen."

You roll your eyes with an exacerbated sigh. Motherfucker never did listen to much other than the sound of his own voice. Selective hearing. Shinsou tried to warn you. Monoma hears only what he wants to.

"I'm pretending to ask you out, dipshit," you clarify. "To boost our stats."

The plan seemed reasonable enough when you first hatched it. The public loves to stick their upturned noses into the private lives of heroes. The more a hero discloses, the higher their rank. Correlation and causation or whatever-the-fuck your PR team said. You need some press. You need to leak something juicy. Hence, fake dating Monoma. It's foolproof, isn't it? Now that you've actually pitched the thing to the smug bastard, you're not so sure.

"How's dating you gonna boost my stats exactly?" he asks.

"Well, for one I out rank you," you say, eager to throw that in his face. "Hanging around with someone in the top thirty is bound to increase your position. The top spots aren't determined solely by number of saves and take downs. It's a fucking popularity contest, and we're competing for a crown."

"Hmm, hmm, hmmmmm," Monoma hums as he theatrically taps his pointer finger against his chin in faux contemplation. God damn you picked the absolute worst person to fake date. Should've gone with the perverted grape guy instead. Little fucker probably would've jumped at the opportunity to call himself your boyfriend.

"I don't have all day, Monoma," you say. "You in or you out?"

He flashes you a disgustingly cheeky grin. The smile is all teeth and absent of any semblance of sincerity.

"Oh, I suppose I could be swayed," he relents. "If.......," a pregnant pause for dramatic effect. Typical, "the fake girlfriend package comes with real girlfriend privileges."

You raise an inquiring eyebrow at him. If the smarmy git wants sex he can ask for it like the grown ass man he is instead of alluding to it like some high school brat.

"I am of course referring to sexual intercourse," he oh-so helpfully clarifies. "Including, but not limited to-"

"Yeah, yeah," you say with a wave of your hand to shut him up. If you have to listen to the end of that sentence you might end up punting him off the roof. "Whatever you want."

Monoma's eyebrows disappear behind his poorly styled emo bangs that he never aged out of. "Whatever I want?" he parrots. "God, you're just as desperate as the rest of them without the numbers to back you up. Think the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight would result to such petty tricks?"

"Yes or no, Monoma," you huff, pressing at your temples to stem an impending tidal wave of a headache. "If you're above this maybe I'll ask the Great Explosion Murder God himself."

Monoma's eyes darken at that, despite the fact that he only has himself to blame for putting the idea in your head.

To his credit, Monoma collects himself quickly and shoves his phone in your hands.

"Number and addy," he says. "I'm staying with Kendo so my place is OOTQ for R-rated content. I'll swing by yours after my patrol tonight for a trial run. I'm guessing you can afford to live alone. based on your rank, number thirty."

"What fucking trial run?" you ask as you add your contact to his phone. You throw in a red heart emoji too, before replacing it with a peach, tongue, and water emoji instead. The pretend relationship needs to look real and there's no way in hell Monoma's the romantic type.

He smirks as he snatches his phone back from you.

"Figure I'm entitled to a seven day free trial before I actually subscribe. It's just good costumer service. Even that prick Bezo's knows it. Don't tell me the aspiring number one hero has less ethics than that capitalistic pig?"

"Oh for fuck's sake," you spit. "Fine. What the hell. Not like I want to be stuck fucking you if your dick game's mid. Swing by tonight. Bring your tiny cock and that bratty attitude of yours. Might be nice to fuck it out of you."

Monoma's grin is borderline predatory. His mouth is open wide enough to expose the sharp tips of his teeth again, and they look like they're just itching to bite. He leans over the table to whisper his next few words in your ear.

"My dick's not tiny," he says, before excusing himself. Then, as he turns to leave, "And I won't be the one getting the brat fucked out of them tonight. See you soon, love."

He disappears around the corner with one last wave of his hand, and you can't help but wonder what the actual fuck you've just gotten yourself into.

[howtofightwrite]

Hi! Love your blog, it's such a brilliant resource, thanks so much for writing it.

So, I'm looking for more information on ways that someone would go about breaking someone else's neck. Long story short, it's for a murder mystery situation where I need the investigators to be able to look at the injury on the victims (in an autopsy context, not necessarily on casual examination) and go 'oh, that's a specific technique and it suggests our killer has military or similar how-to-kill-people combat training'. Any suggestions?

A shovel through the spine at the base of the skull?

So, the headlock neck break is basically a fantasy. The amount of force you'd need to actually shatter someone's neck in the way presented would be superhuman. (Which does mean there's probably examples as industrial accidents, but industrial accidents are a somewhat uncommon murder method. Mostly because they're not especially portable.)

Hilariously, there are multiple attempted murder cases, where the would-be killers tried to replicate that neck break, only succeeding in annoy their victims, and telegraphing their intention. So, someone were to try to snap someone's neck that way, it would be an excellent indicator that they had no training what so ever.

There are ways that someone can kill with a headlock, such as a blood choke, but nothing that's going to concretely point the finger at someone with a military background.

Similarly, stab wounds can be very informative about the killer. But all you'll really gather is how familiar they are with human anatomy, and how comfortable they are with cutting people-shaped meat. This won't help you distinguish between someone who's done this before, and someone who's done this before for their country. (Incidentally, “people-shaped meat,” isn't strictly a joke. There are lot of potential careers and backgrounds where you could become pretty comfortable cutting into animals, either live or recently deceased. So, in this specific case, that's more about the mindset. Someone uncomfortable with that level of physicality, is like to leave behind hesitation wounds. These are smaller cuts, sometimes in the main wound channel, indicating that they're not really comfortable with what they're doing.)

So far as it goes, I'm more a fan of just ramming a blade into an artery, rather than slitting their throat. The latter is a lot more work, but the former requires you actually know where to find someone's arteries quickly and efficiently. Which isn't necessarily a sure thing.

Even tool selection won't necessarily tell you much. Someone who's using a military knife might be ex-military, or they could be someone who uses surplussed equipment because it's cheap and relatively reliable. And that's assuming you can concretely identify the knife from the wounds it leaves. Which is also not especially reliable. You can tell how far the blade penetrated, and roughly how large it is, but that won't tell you if it was a bayonet or some cheap gas station hunting knife of a similar size.

Firearms present a similar problem. Once you can track down the gun (if there were any intact bullets to compare, which isn't a certainty), you might be able to match the gun to the wounds. But, examining the wounds on their own (especially if the bullets are gone, or buried deep in the corpse) will only give you an estimate of the bullet's size. Here's a problem with this, did you know that .38, .380, and .357 magnum are all 9mm rounds? They're different cartridges, but the bullets they spit out are very similarly sized. You might be able to make some educated guesses based on the wound channel and burns, but these all fire a round that's roughly the same size. So, when someone looks at a wound and definitively says it was a .38, they don't know that. (Unless they found the shell casing. But even then, you're not likely to find a .38 or .357mag shell casing unless the attacker specifically dropped their spent brass and reloaded, as those are revolver cartridges. .380 is a semi-auto round, so those will get kicked out after each shot. And, yes, before someone complains, there is .357 SIG, that's a semi-auto cartridge. It's 9x22mm.)

Also worth remembering, you can't, specifically match a shotgun's ballistics, assuming the shell was loaded with shot, and not slugs. You may be able to match the mechanical wear on the casing itself to a model (or multiple models in some cases), but not a specific gun.

So, how do you know it was someone with military training? You don't. Learning that someone's been trained to kill is a bit easier to pin down, but the information isn't that useful. That doesn't tell you if they're ex-military, ex-police, or even just the product of an extremely messed up homelife with a prepper parent. Or, even just they got extremely lucky (or unlucky) with a single stab.

Now, it isn't pointless to try to determine that, as it can be helpful later to demonstrate that the eventual suspect had the training to kill in the method that the victim experienced. But it doesn't do much to narrow the suspect pool on its own.

Ironically, the killer not having combat training. So, with things like defensive and hesitation wounds, can be far more useful for narrowing the suspect pool. As an investigator, when you're talking to someone that you're sure has been certified in knife combat, isn't likely to be especially messy with their stabbings. (Though, to be fair, even a trained knife fighter might stab their victim many times, to ensure a faster bleedout, and not all of those hits are going to be especially artful.)

So, that's a long way from, “you can't really break someone's neck like you see in the movies.” You can kill people, and as an investigator, you can make a lot of educated guesses based on what you find at the crime scene. But, “this method means they were militarily trained,” doesn't really mean they were trained by the military.

-Starke

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[pukanavis]

Fuyume Hanamura Idol Story 1

ーThe Yumenosaki Academy library, two years since the establishment of ES.

Fuyume: Excuse me?

Are there any fairy tales here…?

Oh, the shelf over there is the section for picture books and stuff?

Thank you for your help.

~...♪

(Ah, she was right. Yume recognises a bunch of the books over here.)

(They’ve got a good selection to choose from but the categorising is a mess. They’re just randomly thrown onto the shelf without any care for alphabetical order or release date.)

(Oh well…apparently no one has any love for fairy tales…)

(‘The Little Mermaid, ‘Momotaro’, ‘Tale of The Bamboo-Cutter’, ‘Snow White’, ‘Urashima Taro’, ‘Cinderella’—)

(Oh! It might not be the one Yume was looking for but he’s in the mood to read Cinderella today.)

(This story is another one that Yume adores.)

(It’s a tale about love being rewarded.)

…♪

Fuyume: …? Hm? Oh, uhm, you’re that nice person from earlier—did you need something?

You were so kind to Yume earlier, so he’d be happy to give you some company.

Huh? The Yumenosaki Academy library is off-limits to anyone that doesn’t work for or attend the school?

How could you tell that Yume isn’t a student here?

Ooh, cause Yume isn’t wearing the uniform…?

That makes sense…no biggie, Yume will be sure to wear the school uniform next time.

Yume is really good at sewing, so it won’t be a problem…fufu ♪

Huh? That’s not the issue?

Yume doesn't like anything you’re saying right now.

Here he was thinking you were a nice person.

Fuyume: Huh? Yume’s name is Fuyume Hanamura.

And you are? …Anzu-san? You’re a graduate of Yumenosaki?

You’re here at your old school to do some producer work, huh? It made you feel nostalgic so you’ve been walking around the grounds…? 

Oh, is that the case? Hmm…♪

Then, aren’t you and Yume in the same boat? Yume goes to a middle school separate from Yumenosaki and you’ve already graduated…right?

It sounds like neither of us are allowed to be here.

Let's work together then, okay? If you pretend you never saw Yume, he won’t go around yelling, ‘There’s a trespasser in here!’ …♪

What do they call it? A contract, business, bargaining? Let’s do something like that…♪

If you’re willing to comply, Yume will leave you be. He isn't particularly interested in you anyway.

Yume is just here to read some fairy tales.

…♪

Fuyume: Huh? Did you need something else? You want to know what Yume is reading?

Ehehe, you’re interested in fairy tales? Sounds like we can get along.

Ehehehehehe. Yume is just reading a picture book about the massively popular princess, Cinderella. Though, he actually wanted to read something else. 

Maybe you’ve heard of it? For some reason, no one in Japan knows about it—it’s a fairy tale about an amethyst. 

Even if you don’t know the story, maybe you’ve heard this quote before?

—”The amethyst broke into pieces.”

Fufu. I guess you haven’t heard of it. Oh well.

Basically, it’s a story about an ordinary girl that comes across an amethyst that can grant any wish that she desires.

In fact, she actually fuses with the amethyst and becomes a crystalised-human of sorts.

It’s a curse put on her by an evil witch…ehehehehe ♪

The plot is kinda similar to ‘The Happy Prince’. Actually, something like ‘Arabian Nights’ or ‘The Monkey’s Paw’ might be a better match.

After transforming into the wish-granting amethyst, the girl wishes for her crush to pay attention to her, or to become better friends with people—

With each little wish she makes, the amethyst uses its power and gradually begins to crack—

Aah…♪ Eventually, her body becomes so fractured that it crumbles away and she loses all of the love and friends that she had been granted.

Her loved ones view her like a monster and chase her away in fear.

After everything, the final wish she makes is—

Fuyume: —Ah, wait, Yume thinks you should read it for yourself to find out what happens next. Spoilers are a crime!

Ehehe. If there’s one thing Yume can say, it’s that he empathises with the amethyst girl and even admires her.

At the end of it all, the final remaining piece of her—

Becomes a ring that showers the wedding between her best friend and the one she loved in joy.

After everything, her final wish is—wait, oops, Yume just realised how much he’s spoiling. He’s really really sorry.

You don’t mind? Really? You’re super kind, you know?

Ehehe. You see, Yume shares the same wish as the girl who became a ring.

—-“I wish for your life to be full of joy.”

During her final moments, the girl whose selfish asks led her to break apart used her last wish to bring someone else happiness. 

Ehehe. Yume doesn’t have the power to grant wishes but he’ll do everything he can to achieve that too.

For example, Esu goes to Yumenosaki so Yume snuck in to watch over him in secret.

Huh? Does Yume love Esu?

It depends how you define ‘love’ but yep, Yume loves Esu.

But it's sad, isn't it? The reality we live in isn’t a fairytale.

—The amethyst already shattered long ago.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

I love youUuOUuUoU ❤ | {SabiGiyuu}

Theme: Fluffy sillyness!!

Note: That's got to be one of my fav sabigiyuu pictures i love them so fucking much i can't.

Sabito lived past final selection AU bc i said so (sorta basing this off of the picture)

Before Kyojuro became a Hashira i think :> After Sanemi did

No certain plot just silly SabiGiyuu scenes

Sabito grinned as he ran off with Giyuu's haori, tiptoeing away from his room as he went. He found some scissors and cut through the middle carefully, praying with all his might he didn't fuck up.

He got his and did the same then quickly started sewing together the two sides, as well as he could. He did the same with the remaining ones then held up his work proudly. 

Just then, the door opened and he looked up. 

"Sabito? I can't find my haori, do you know whe-" Giyuu started. He paused as he saw what Sabito had done and he frowned. "Sabito... what did you do?"

Sabito grinned nervously, pulling one of the haori's on and giving the other to Giyuu. "Just put it on!!!"

Giyuu sighed but slipped it on, deciding he had no other haori to use anyways. "Why..." he grumbled.

"We match now, Giyuu!!" Sabito insisted, twirling around. 

Sabito laughed and shook Giyuu until he smiled. 

"Fine, I guess it's alright," the ravenette hesitantly agreed. 

"Yayy!!"

~~~

Sanemi raised an eyebrow at the two as they spoke to each other in the corner of the yard. They were at a Hashira meeting—there were two Water Hashira's, Giyuu and Sabito—and it hadn't yet started yet so they were simply talking to one another. 

"Since when did you have matching haori's?" Tengen asked, who was closest to the Water Hashira's. 

Giyuu rolled his eyes but Sabito smiled wildly. "I sewed them together!"

"Without my permission," Giyuu added with a scowl.

"You love it though!" the peach-haired Hashira insisted, bobbing his head.

Tengen grinned. "It's flashy, I like it."

"See???" Sabito said, as if to make a point.

Giyuu huffed. "Whatever."

~~~

Sabito was drunk. Not on purpose, no, the Hashira—and hopefully anyone else in the demon slayer corps—usually refrained from drinking so they could be clearheaded through their missions. He'd only been given a drink by someone who had mixed up something with alcohol with what he'd originally bought and now... Giyuu had to deal with him.

Unfortunately, Sabito apparently got really drunk even with just a little...

"Giyuuuu!!" Sabito whined, shaking the said Hashira. "I wanna go hoommmee!!"

"We are at home," Giyuu said, sighing.

"No we aren'ttt!! This is Madagascarr," he grumbled. (credits to my sister for the random country <3)

"Madagascar...?" Giyuu asked, raising an eyebrow. "Since when?"

"Since... december," Sabito decided, slumping down to the floor. "I'm tireedd..."

"Alright, let's take you to bed," Giyuu said, going to pick him up. 

"Nooo I want to sleep on the floor!" Sabito said, crossing his arms.

"Why?"

"It's comfy," he replied simply, laying down and curling up in a ball.

"For fucks sake, your room isn't that far!!" Giyuu said, promptly picking him up and marching off to Sabito's room. 

"I wanna sleep in your room," Sabito decided, once he was on his own bed.

"Seriously?" Giyuu asked impatiently. 

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because..." Sabito considered the question for a moment, looking as if he was thinking hard. "I love youuuu!!" he slurred, grinning stupidly up at Giyuu. 

Giyuu sighed. "I love you too but you can't sleep in my room you drunkass. You're sleeping here tonight," he said, turning to leave.

Sabito grumbled. "But you love me too!"

"Doesn't change anything." Giyuu went to the door and said, "If I come into this room later and you aren't asleep I'm going to throw you out of the house," before closing the door.

Sabito blinked in the darkness that filled his room; Giyuu had closed his window and drawn down the curtains. "Fine," he huffed, grabbing his pillow and using it as a blanket. 

~~~

"Giyuu!"

"Hm?" The Hashira looked up as his name was called and he stopped on his way back home.

Sabito was running up to him happily. 

"Sabito, you're alright?" Giyuu asked, for his boyfriend had just been at the Butterfly estate due to an injury. 

"Yeah!! Kocho-San finally let me out," he said, laughing. "And her little sister, uhm, Shinobu? She kept telling me that I couldn't overwork myself so much."

"Well you shouldn't!" Giyuu agreed.

Sabito shrugged. "Anyways, since you were on a mission I took the liberty to walk around some and I bought you a gift," he said, grinning. 

"A gift? You needn't have to-"

"I wanted to!" Sabito interrupted. "Now, here." He shoved a small box into Giyuu's hand.

Giyuu looked at him curiously then opened the box, his eyes widening as he saw it. "A ring?"

Sabito nodded. "I heard of things called 'promise rings' or something, and since I know there's not really a high chance we'll have any time for any marriage I bought these which are supposed to be, like, promising to be together forever and stuff," he explained, his voice faltering at the end. "Sorry, I dunno."

Giyuu gave him a small smile. "It's cute, I like it," he decided, slipping the ring onto his finger. It fit perfectly.

Sabito smiled then, almost relieved, and said, "I have one too!!" He took out of his pocket (idk-) an identical box and opened it, pulling the ring onto his own finger. "Now we match!!" he declared.

Giyuu gave him a look. "We already have matching haori's, and now matching rings- What's next? Bracelets and headbands?" he joked. 

And that was how Sabito decided to make matching bracelets and headbands for them. 

"What the fuck Sabito!!" Giyuu groaned, eyeing the homemade bracelets Sabito held out proudly to him.

"What?!" he said, huffing. 

"Why do we need bracelets? And headbands?!" Giyuu exclaimed. 

"Because you said bracelets and headbands," Sabito deadpanned, dead serious. 

Giyuu rolled his eyes. "That was a joke!"

"Oh? Now it's not!"

~~~

"Okay, the haori's were sweet and the rings were nice but..." Tengen said, raising an eyebrow. "No offense but are you two little girls?"

Giyuu sighed heavily. "Just so you know, this was all Sabito's idea."

Sabito put his hands on his hips defiantly. "No it wasn't!"

"Fuck you mean 'no it wasn't'?! It definitely was," Giyuu said, glaring at him. 

Sabito rolled his eyes in a mocking manner. "Whatever," he said, tossing his hair back. 

{Word count: 1077}

YOU ASKED FOR SABIGIYUU CRACK SO I PRESENT TO YOU SABIGIYUU CRACK

I'M GIGGLING I DIDN'T PLAN ANY OF THIS I JUST MADE IT UP AS I WROTE (i mean i do this lots but this more so) 

i think i'm in a silly mood today i'm writing sm silly stuff

[bosbas]

Chapter 3: best believe I'm still bejeweled

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.7k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You're struggling to find someone you're as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

May 19, 1814 - Today marks not only the birthday of our illustrious Queen Charlotte but also the grand event eagerly awaited by all of London's high society: the splendid Queen Charlotte's Ball.

The air is thick with excitement as the ton awaits the debut of our beautiful new bachelorettes for the season. Rest assured, dear readers, this author shall be your eyes and ears throughout the evening, ensuring you are privy to every scandal, dance, and whispered secret that unfolds at this momentous celebration.

The air was, as Lady Whistledown had said, thick with something, although you weren't quite sure it was excitement. Your stomach was tied in a complete tangle of knots, and said knots were doing cartwheels all over the dressing room you were currently in. Looking over at Cass and Eloise eating biscuits and giggling together on the other side of the room, you desperately wished you could stay with them rather than go to the ball.

Until this morning, you had been cautiously optimistic about the whole affair, excited about being courted despite your strong reservations about marriage, knowing it would most likely be a significant loss of your freedom. But at least in the beginning, when you didn't have to immediately think about the greater implications of courting, you could pretend that getting to know people and dancing and receiving flowers could be just fun. But now, with your mother and Lady Violet excitedly chattering around you as your lady's maids rushed to and fro, grabbing your makeup and jewelry, you were less than ecstatic.

Just as the claustrophobia was getting to be a bit much and you were quite ready to jump out of the window into the garden and take off running, Daphne entered the dressing room. Shooing the lady's maids away momentarily, Daphne offered a sympathetic look and sat beside you. You shot her a grateful smile, immediately letting out a breath, slumping your shoulders, and resting your chin on your gloved hand.

"Oh dear, I know that look very well," Daphne laughed. "It's not all bad, I promise."

Rubbing your temples, you confessed, "I know. I was excited until this morning. It's all rather overwhelming now that I'm actually experiencing it, though. What do you even talk about when you're dancing? What if no one wants to speak to me at all?"

Upon hearing the distress in your voice, Daphne quickly interjected. "Honestly, I was much more of a wreck than you were and I am frankly impressed by how well you're holding it together. My best advice would be to not think about it too much. It's harder to do in your position, I know, but you are so brilliant in every way, and everyone is dying to get to know you. It's a wonderful advantage to have. You get to be selective. So just be yourself the best way you know how and try to seek out the ones who make you feel the most comfortable."

You responded with a small laugh, "I guess it's a good thing Ben isn't here then; otherwise, I'd be spending the whole evening with him."

An indecipherable look took over Daphne's features. "It truly is beyond me why he would miss such an important day. Men being men, I suppose. But it's alright. You have the entire Bridgerton clan in his stead, not to mention your family. And speaking of Benedict, he did leave a note with me he wanted me to give you today." Daphne handed you a small rectangular envelope with your name in Benedict's scrawl across the front. Daphne reached over and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "you look absolutely stunning. You have nothing to worry about."

Giving her friend a final kiss on the cheek, Daphne stood up and joined the excited mothers on the other side of the room, allowing you a moment to carefully open the envelope in your hands.

Y/I (your initial), 

Hopefully, Daphne will manage to deliver this on time. I'm dreadfully sad I can't be there with you today, but I know you will impress absolutely everyone in attendance. Send Lady Danbury my regards. Or perhaps don't. Whichever makes it less likely I have to dance with her at the next ball I attend!

Yours, B

Smiling to yourself, you felt just a tad more prepared to face the queen in a short time, Ben's note filling you with confidence and Daphne's reassuring words soothing your anxieties.

---

An earlier conversation with Hyacinth had left you terrified of falling flat on your face tonight, so you were intently focused on completing each step as smoothly as possible. As the last debutante to be presented to the queen, your goal was to draw as little attention to yourself as possible, but you found the opposite. The room hushed as you entered, which you were worried about until you saw everyone's warm smiles and eager gazes. Newly filled with confidence, you gracefully completed your journey to the throne, where you curtseyed before Queen Charlotte.

Upon receiving the queen's enthusiastic approval, you heaved a sigh of relief. Now, you could enjoy the ball and take in all the new experiences of being out in society. The ballroom was a dazzling display of candlelight, silk gowns, and a polished dance floor as the orchestra played a lively tune. However, the moment of peace was quickly interrupted by many people rushing to talk to you at once. Gracefully moving from one conversation to another, you were enjoying the whirlwind of your debut. Invigorated by your earlier conversation with Daphne, you embraced the attention, excitedly introducing yourself and exchanging pleasantries as you attempted to move toward your mother a few yards away.

After talking to quite a few eligible bachelors and a not-insignificant amount of their mothers, you reached Countess Beaumont and the dowager Viscountess Bridgerton. "Oh, Y/N, your dance card seems to be full! Not even five minutes after you've been presented, no less! That's quite wonderful. I was worried I'd have to send Colin and Anthony to dance with you," your mother exclaimed, cheekily winking at you.

Violet laughed and shook her head. "They should be so lucky! All everyone is talking about is how beautiful you look, dear. Not news to us, obviously, but it's nice to see other people recognizing it."

Truthfully, you were over the moon. You loved to dance, after all, and looking out toward the ballroom, you could see all three of your brothers, your father, Anthony, Colin, and Daphne, scattered throughout. You felt oddly comfortable being in such a new environment, and perhaps Daphne was correct: you could be selective. You had even turned away a few gentlemen who asked you to dance before your card was full, opting to wait for the ones with kind smiles and kinder words.

Just then, Lord Marcus Thornfield approached you, having already been one of the people on your dance card, and you were once again taken aback by his piercing blue eyes. He bowed elegantly and offered a boyish smile and his gloved hand. "It's lovely to see you again, Miss Beaumont, still looking completely stunning. Would you do me the honor of sharing this dance with me?"

You could feel your face getting a tad hot, overwhelmed by the flattery, but at the same time soaking it in thoroughly. You curtsied slightly and placed your gloved hand in his. "Mr. Thornfield, I would be delighted," you replied.

Then, addressing the other two women in the trio, Lord Thornfield said, "If you don't mind, I'd love to borrow Lady Beaumont for a dance."

Thrilled about your first dance at a ball, your mother and Lady Bridgerton enthusiastically assented, clasping their hands together and waving at the pair of you as you approached the dance floor. Sporting a broad smile, you allowed Marcus to escort you away.

As you glided through the dance floor with Marcus, making soft and sometimes flirtatious conversation, you found that you much preferred him before speaking to him in depth. Although he was a complete gentleman, you often found his conversation topics tedious at best and boring at worst. Of course, it was unreasonable for you to expect in-depth and completely captivating conversations like the ones you had with Benedict, but you felt like the chat with Marcus could have at least been engaging. You could not recall a single question he had asked you throughout your interaction, opting instead to talk about himself and occasionally compliment your appearance that night. Surely, there was more to life than hearing a man drone on endlessly about his own life. Toward the end of the dance, you were glad to reach your mother once again, practically begging for an excuse to slip away from Marcus.

Your next dance was better but by a slim margin. The man, Earl Ashton, was nice enough, but you didn't quite feel a connection with him as strong as you would have liked. The following two dances and three conversations that did not involve dancing were mostly the same. The most common question you received, which often was the only one you were asked in the entire interaction, was the reasoning behind your delay in coming out. You took this opportunity to talk about literature, sometimes delving into your latest read. However, save for two or three of them, most of the bachelors you spoke with were not interested in further discussing your studies. After yet another boy refused to engage in real conversation, opting to talk about his upcoming hunting trip, you saw your mother raising her eyebrows at Violet and casting an inconspicuous disapproving look toward the man you were speaking with.

A tad frustrated by your experience, but not enough to dim the glow you were feeling, you decided to take respite at the refreshment table. You were sipping on lemonade and attempting to decipher what was missing from your previous interactions. Partially, you recognized that you were to blame for having set such high standards with Benedict. You knew meeting someone and getting to know them was not the same as speaking with your best friend since childhood, but it seemed instinctual to compare the two. Most of the men you talked to were leagues better than Marcus Thornfield, though, who, you noticed amusedly, was speaking with another debutante who looked positively disinterested.

You were brought out of your musings by the familiar voices of Colin and Anthony. "Well, hello, Miss Y/N Beaumont, diamond of the season and center of the ton's attention who is looking absolutely radiant tonight, according to possibly every single person I have spoken to tonight," called Anthony, reaching your side in a few strides.

Laughing into your cup, you smiled up at the boys. "Well, if it isn't the two most eligible bachelors here tonight, according to every eager mama. How has the ball been for you?"

Colin feigned offense, putting his hand to his chest, "For us? Who cares about us? How has the night been for you?!"

As soon as you opened your mouth to respond, Lord Reginald Harrington bounded over to your group and bowed. Very courteous, Lord Harrington asked you for a dance. Still, unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately, after seeing Harrington very pointedly staring at another debutante's bosom instead of her eyes while having a conversation), you did not have any space left on your dance card. Anthony barely had time to throw out a good-natured joke about the ton's demand for you before another young man approached the trio. Quite unfortunately, Mr Geoffrey Huntington was on your dance card, so you let yourself be guided to the dance floor. As you spun and twirled with Mr Huntington, you once again yearned for something more. You did not know what, exactly. But a pleasant conversation (he asked questions about you and even made you laugh a few times!) still did not completely satisfy you.

Off to the side, Colin and Anthony were intently observing the dance between you and Geoffrey. "She doesn't quite look like that when she's talking to Ben, though, does she?" Anthony observed.

"Well, clearly not, but I do rather think she's having an alright time of it with Geoff, nevertheless. I've heard he's one of the better ones, actually showing interest in the girls." Colin responded, recounting gossip he had heard through Cass and Pen, though heavens knew where the girls had gotten that information.

Anthony looked on thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "I suppose that's alright, then. I'm still going to make fun of her when she returns," he grinned. "As much as I love poking fun at her, though, I wonder how Ben would feel about Y/N getting this much attention. I still can't believe he missed her debut. I can't believe Mother let him!"

"Oh, I can. I really can believe it. Surely you see it, too? The way he looks at her? I've no doubt he'd be fuming in the corner right about now. Seeing his best friend talk to someone else would send him spiraling," Colin responded, sending a pointed look his brother's way.

Before Anthony could respond, you had returned to them, looking slightly winded. "Well, that was quite the dance," you laughed.

Immediately upon seeing you free to talk, or at least free from anyone that wasn't your immediate family or the Bridgertons, another young man approached you at the refreshments table, handing you a glass of lemonade. Slightly annoyed but able to keep your composure, you gracefully took the glass. "Oh, Mr. Howard, you are too kind. Unfortunately, my dance card is full for tonight, but I would love the opportunity to dance with you at a later ball if that's a possibility."

Mr. Howard, for his part, was left with his mouth agape. "Oh. Yes. Yes, of course, Miss Beaumont. Thank you very much, and I look forward to speaking to you then," he responded, swiftly turning away in search of another young woman who had space left on her dance card, or at least the desire to speak to him at all, really.

Colin and Anthony could barely contain their laughter, leaving you slightly embarrassed by how forward you had been but happy to have some time without speaking to potential future husbands, nonetheless. At that moment, you would have taken Colin and Anthony's teasing ten times over talking to another man hoping to woo you.

---

In the early morning quietude of your room, you took up your quill and parchment, eager to recount the whirlwind of the previous night for Hyacinth. Of course, you could only accept when the young girl earnestly asked for a detailed recounting of every ball you attended, so you were putting in as much detail as you could remember, including but not limited to your mind-numbing dance with Marcus, as well as Bastian's comical near-fall when trying to escape a potential dance with Lady Danbury.

A knock on your door interrupted your writing, and you saw your father and Cass poke their heads in. "Good morning, darling. You've got a congregation of callers downstairs, quite the assembly. Shall I send them away?" your father inquired with a hint of exasperation. "I'd prefer not to entertain a throng of young men with no discernible connection to the Beaumont or Bridgerton names this early in the day."

You interjected swiftly, "No, Father. Just give me a few minutes, and I'll go downstairs to meet them."

With a nod, Earl Beaumont withdrew, muttering under his breath, while Cassandra, bubbling with excitement, seized your hands. "You have callers! A whole bunch of them! Y/n, this is so wonderful! Who do you expect to see downstairs?"

A tad flustered, you were scrambling to put away your half-written account of the night and making sure you had no ink stains on your hands. "Truthfully, I was not expecting this so early on. Oh, Cass, I'm dreadfully unprepared. I really didn't think I had that good of a connection with anyone last night, let alone as many people as Father said!"

Cass rolled her eyes and responded, "Obviously you didn't think you had a good connection with anyone. But if you were to forget that Ben existed for about three seconds, would that alter your perception?"

Groaning, you replied, "Cass, I don't need this from you today. Yes, maybe I compared these gentlemen to my best friend initially, but I promise I moved beyond that. Most men, like us, have ambitious mamas keen on securing advantageous matches, which might explain their early-morning presence."

"Well, perhaps. But you are in high demand either way," your sister declared, gently ushering you out of your room and toward the grand staircase. "Y/N Beaumont, if you do not hurry up and get downstairs, I swear I will start to talk to these gentlemen myself," Cass threatened, earning a laugh from you as you made your way to confront the eager line of callers awaiting your presence.

---

Amid the afternoon light filtering through the drawing room curtains, you found yourself the center of attention. The room was adorned with fresh flowers, their sweet fragrance lingering. Seated gracefully on a chaise, your vibrant eyes sparkled with curiosity and trepidation as you faced the seemingly endless line of suitors vying for your favor. You were enjoying seeing suitors more than you had enjoyed the previous night, even though you had loved dancing at the ball. Today's tête-à-têtes seemed to unfold more leisurely, offering you the luxury of time and a touch more intimacy, save for Lady Primrose and Cass' discreet presence. You discovered a certain joy in these extended conversations, different from the hurried introductions of the ball, giving you the tiniest glimmer of hope once again.

Currently, you were listening to Mr. Archibald Roxbury recite a poem he had written that had been, in his own words, inspired by your radiance at the ball, and he couldn't resist putting his sentiments into verse. The poem was sweet and not half bad, but you had been seeing suitors for several hours and were now quite exhausted.

Your brothers had been out for most of the day, but you could hear their loud voices echoing through the halls past the open door of the drawing room, questioning the queue of suitors inside their home. You almost breathed an audible sigh of relief when Alex stepped into the room, directing his attention toward you. "Y/N, a word?"

Offering a brief apology to Mr. Roxbury, you eagerly followed Alex's lead. Leaning down, Alex spoke lowly, "Quite popular this afternoon, aren't you?"

"I guess so. It's been hours! I can't believe there are people still here. I'm so tired, Alex; I need a cup of tea or something! I can't keep doing this right now," came your exasperated response.

"Y/N, these men are here for you, not the other way around. I can make them leave whenever you would like," he responded with a hand on your shoulder, surveying the amount of people in the Beaumont home.

You followed his gaze, remembering the vast number of people you would still have to speak with if you were to talk to every single young man in your home that day. "You're right. I suppose it would be nice to have a bit of a break from it all," you said, uncertain.

Wasting no time, Alex left the room, and you returned to your previous spot, where Archibald continued his recital. You wondered when your afternoon would be over. Thankfully, you did not have to wait long. A few minutes later, all three of your brothers and your father entered the drawing room. Clearing his throat, Earl Beaumont addressed the crowd of young men in their home, "Thank you all very much for coming today, but Miss Beaumont will no longer be seeing any suitors today. You are welcome to come back another time."

Amidst the disappointed faces of your suitors, you saw Theo wink at you. You played your part, gracefully feigning disappointment, thanking the remaining suitors for their gifts, and bidding them adieu. Truthfully, you just wanted to leave the drawing room and have a few moments to yourself, but etiquette called for you to wait until all the guests had left your home.

You skipped over to your father once the last suit-clad man had exited. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I thought it would never end," you said gratefully. The earl chuckled at your theatrics but agreed, "I had been waiting the whole day to send them away. Far too many people in my house!"

Ever the comedian, Theo suggested, "Perhaps try being a tad more unpleasant next time, Y/N." Chiming in, Bastian added, "Or maybe don't put as much effort into your appearance at the next ball; that way, we won't have to deal with this again."

"Great suggestions, as ever, boys," you responded sarcastically. "Now, if I may be excused, I need to not see anyone for the next three years."

---

A candle lit your room softly as you leaned against your door, relishing the memories of the lively afternoon. Your fingers traced the edges of the letters, flowers, and tokens scattered across your dressing table—a testament to the whirlwind of introductions and pleasant conversations you had the first day after your debut.

Yet, a shadow flickered in your eyes as you settled into a more contemplative mood. A silent ache enveloped you as you remembered Benedict, whose absence cast a subtle but palpable pall over the festivities. Amid all the excitement, you found yourself yearning for the comfort of his presence, the familiar cadence of his voice, and the reassuring touch of his hand. You were lost between the allure of newfound admirers and the unspoken yearning for someone who already knew you like the back of his hand.

Confusion crept in as you internalized your feelings. Even if Ben had not gone to the countryside at the same time as you were due to make your debut, he wouldn't have been present when you saw suitors, only the night before at the ball. So why did you miss him when he wouldn't have been there logistically? Lost in contemplation, you gazed out the window, the night sky adorned with stars that had no answer to your question.

---

previous part || next part || buy me a ko-fi!

[xannytranny]

Challengers AU

Summary: You felt like you were on top of the world. Suddenly, it felt like your world flipped upside down. Torn between love for your sport and choosing the love of your life, you don't know what's up or down. AKA, a Challengers-esque AU but with basketball instead of tennis. 

Part 1

Pairings: You x OC; eventual You x Paige x Caitlin

Warnings: None (?), swearing, slightly toxic dynamics (?)

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

Second Person POV

Life was great. Your team won last year's NCAA championship, and against all odds, you guys were headed into this year's Sweet Sixteen. 

Life was great. You're going into your senior year, your last year of playing with your favorite people. You've gotten close to all the girls on the team, and they've essentially become your sisters. You're favorite, above all, was your girlfriend, Mackenzie. 

Life was great, and it was about to get even better. You and Mackenzie were talking to several WBNA, and both of you were slated to be within the top five picks. You guys may end up across the country from each other, but you'd make it work because this was your dream.

Life was great. So why the hell did it feel like a lie every time you said it?

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

First Person POV

I hop around lightly, bopping my head to the music blaring from my earbuds. I shake out my arms, pulling them across my chest to stretch. I sat on the locker room bench, dropping my head and closing my eyes to focus on breathing. I could feel a presence sitting next to me, but I ignored them until I finished my exercises. 

I open my eyes and pull out my earbuds, looking toward the new presence. When I see it's Mackenzie, I smile slightly, "Hey you."

"You alright?" She asks, nudging our knees together. 

I soften, nodding, "Just nervous, I guess." I shrug. 

Mackenzie scoffs, "Unlike me, this isn't your first Team US selection." Her tone sounds joking, but it still has that underlying bitterness I've come to associate with our conversations. I ignore it and shrug.

"Selection doesn't mean anything if you can't bring home a win," I tell her, frowning. 

"Would you relax? This is only for gold medals and participation trophies." She snaps at me. 

I roll my eyes, standing. "Can you just leave? I need to focus."

Mackenzie scoffs and turns to leave, mumbling under her breath. I ignore her, which seems to be a theme these days, and return to stretching. I stay like that until Coach comes to collect us. I don't acknowledge Mackenzie as we begin walking toward the tunnel, my mind only on the game that's about to happen. 

I jog out of the tunnel when I hear my name called. I wave to the crowds in the stands, then run down the line, slapping hands with my teammates. I join the line, greeting the rest of my teammates. Once the introductions are finished, I get into position for tip-off. 

Tying my hair back and getting low, I watch intently as the ref tosses the ball into the air. I grin as the ball is batted in my direction, catching it and taking off toward the basket. 

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

 Third Person POV

Caitlin and Paige sat side by side, watching the game. When they heard you were selected for the team, they knew they had to get tickets. You were everything they wanted to be as a basketball player, not to mention you were fucking hot. 

"Dude fucking look at her go," Paige nudged Caitlin, pointing toward where you just made a tough layup. 

Caitlin nudged her back, "I see her," She mumbled, not taking her eyes off you. 

In fact, neither one of them had taken their eyes off you since you came out of the tunnel. You were magnetic, electric, and just plain fun to watch. The entire stadium seemed to roar for you, and you basked in the attention readily, sending winks and kisses into the crowd. 

Only one thought was going through their mind as they watched you: I have to have her.

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

Alright, so this is the intro to the fic I posted about yesterday. Let me know what you guys are thinking.

[shunin-gumis]

Nagi Birthday(2024) SSR Story

Best Wishes Snap

Happy Happy Day! (1st part)

The Yellow and white marker is Toi, Red is Ryui, Beige over black is Yodaka, Neon Pink is Netaro, and the All-black is (probably?) oshisha-sama (iykyk)

Messages Toi: Happy Birthday Nagi-kun! We love you 💖 Ryui: Happy B Day, show some energy. 🐙 Netaro: Birthday Boy 🌟🌟🌟 Yodaka: All happiness on your birthday ✨ Oshisha: My pet ➡️ Fun fact the rat ears doodled on Nagi is in reference to his radio persona named 'Nure Nezumi' meaning Drowned Rat!

Nagi: Haa.....

Boy: Mama, that man on the swing set has been staring at the ground for so long now.

Mother of the boy: It's not good to stare, we should leave him alone.

Nagi: I couldn't tell anyone it was my birthday today in the end.

Nagi: The "Random Present System"... I wonder if I was counted in it too.

Nagi: I'm sure the person who was selected to gift me a present has been decided, but no one actually knows it's my birthday today.... Besides, it must have been a hassle to get me something when the system was only just implemented....

Nagi: ...... Well, I guess it's fine even if my birthday isn't celebrated.

Nagi: Sonia sent me off with a smile and told me to enjoy the party, so I can't just go back to the shop now. I'll just return to Hama House, take a nice hot bath and sleep.

Nagi: I'm ba...ck?

Ryui: Finally! Where the hell were you off to all this time? You're late!

Nagi: Huh? Um, I'm... sorry?

Momiji: Welcome back, Nagi-kun.

Yodaka: We were just about to set off to find you.

Yodaka: It wouldn't do for the birthday boy to be absent for his own party, now would it?

Nagi: But I thought no one knew my birthday...

Netaro: What a silly goose you are Gii~ Surely you must remember the fact that you had to note down your birthday on your profile.

Momiji: It was in the company's documents too.

Nagi: Ah... you're right.

Toi: Ushio-kun prepared the cake -"Blooming Happiness ⭐ Full Bloom Flower Cake"! The flowers on top of the icing are all edible, isn't that amazing?

Nagi: Not just that, the entire table is packed with all kinds of food...

Nagi: You prepared all this... for me...?

Momiji: Nagi-kun, I've prepared a ton of vases so I can receive as many flowers as you want to give me later, so enjoy tonight as much as you want!

Nagi: ....!!

Everyone at Hama Tours: Happy Birthday!!

Renga: As fellow team leaders... let's do our best to get along and hype up HAMA.

Renga: This pink rose is my birthday gift for you.

Renga: It's thanks to your advice that my roses grew so beautifully, so you can have this one.

Nagi: ....hic.....

Renga: ...Wait, huh!? Are you crying!?

Ten: Ah... look at those tears. Renga-san, how could you do that to him....

Renga: Is this my fault!?

Renga: It's not like it's something specia- I mean, I did put a lot of thought into it, but!

Renga: O-Oi, stop crying already...!

Nagi: ....hic, I've never seen such a beautiful rose before. It's the most beautiful one in the world, no, in this entire galaxy!

Renga: I-Is that so...!

Muneuji: Hachinoya-san, please accept this watering can from me. I hope you can make use of it at your store. I wish for 'Flower Laundry' to continue to flourish and prosper.

Nagi: I-I promise to make my store one that everyone loves for the next 1000 years.

Liguang: ... He keeps crying every time someone greets him.

Ryui: He's a pain...

Nagi: Liguang-san, and Ryui... Even the two of you prepared a present for me?

Liguang: That's right. Grease and cloth included, I've prepared a maintenance tool set that you can use on your beloved bike.

Nagi: Thank you very much....

Ryui: This is a little something to ward of bad luck.

Nagi: Band-aids? It's even got a nice design...

Ryui: It's because you keep getting hurt all the time and getting Toi all worried. And stop bawling so much it's gross.

Nagi: ... Thank you for getting someone like me a gift. It's the first time my birthday's been celebrated like this...

Chihiro: Oh em gee, isn't Nagipeko crying a lil too much tho? You'll shrivel up at this rate!

Nagi: It'll be ok if I drink water right after letting it out.

Raito: Haha, guess I should prepare a pitcher for you in that case.

Nagi: I would really appreciate that.

Nagi: I want to give back all this gratitude I'm feeling. So that all of you can smile just like I am-

Nagi: I'll do a stand-up comedy right now.

Momiji: Eh, all of a sudden?

Tao: That's not what I was expecting from that speech!

Nagi: Even if you feel like cringing, please don't look away. I'd like you to accept my honest feelings of gratitude.

Momiji: Huh, wait, Nagi-kun...!

Nagi: Presenting my short skit, "How I surprised myself on my own Birthday."

Part 2

[miss0atae]

Doppelganger and Reincarnation or how I believe new Vad / Wat isn’t what she seems to be in Century of Love (ep 6) :

Century of Love plot relies heavily on the idea of reincarnation. San made a deal with the goddess Nuwa. He has 100 years to find the reincarnation of his lover. In the meantime he is suffering from great pain every night. San has only one purpose and it's to find her. Over the years, he hasn't made progress. He is stuck in the past and the years are starting to weight on him. That's why, despite staying young he is acting a lot like a meanie grandpa.

It's the second series directed by Worawit Khuttiyayothin where you can find the representation of Chinese culture. Thai Chinese culture were represented a lot in another of his work To Sir, With Love. If in this work, Worawit Khuttiyayothin showed how the local the local Chinese community was dominating the domestic commerce of Thailand, in Century of Love, he shows a story inspired by the Chinese Folk religion and Buddhism. The goddess Nuwa is considered as the creator of mankind in Chinese mythology. I found weird that she was the goddess they decided to use for this series as she doesn't seem to have anything to do with the afterlife. I guess it's because she indeed used the five-colored stones and it was a device that could be used for the story. After all, when written a work of fiction, we don't always have to select the right god of goddess to use in your stories.

As she is presented in Buddhism and reincarnation is an important part of the plot of the stories, I believe it's important to show the link between the two. I'm not well-knowledgeable on Buddhism. I just knew reincarnation is a part of the belief. Karma influences your rebirth and the cycle of birth and death is endless. The story capitalize also on this idea. While looking for information about reincarnation in Buddhism I came upon the idea that there is no soul moving from one reincarnation to another. Also the consciousnesses of the new reborn is neither identical neither entirely different from his previous incarnation. I guess the screenwriter didn't want to rely too much on the different beliefs of Buddhism to make the story easier to follow by everyone. However, I think it would have been great to introduce this idea because it would explain why Vee could be considered the reincarnation of Vad / Wat even though he doesn't look or acts like her. Even if he is different from her, he still has the same care for others as she had and it would emphasize this “continuum” that is supposed to exist between different reincarnation. San could gradually accept the idea that Vee and his Vad / Wat would be the same being.

However, they decided to keep the idea of the reincarnation who has to look like his/her past self and he/she is able to remember some part of their past life. That's why the confusion of the arrival of New Vad / Wat works. By the end of episode 6, when San has finally accepted his feelings for Vee and the idea that he could be the reincarnation of his lover, New Vad / Wat came to his door. No doubts she is here to cause trouble. I think we can already accept it's going to confuse San. Previously, he met Third, the doctor and childhood friend of Vee who had the same face as Lord Trai, Vad / Wat's fiancé. Several time, Third admitted he felt like he already knew San and lost to him. The story seems to make us want to see him as the reincarnation of Lord Trai. San was even confused by the fact he was the copy carbon physically of the Lord, while Vee isn't looking at all like Vad / Wat. Tao has the best answer about that and it's simply that he can't explain everything. It works perfectly for the story because anything that is as magical as reincarnation shouldn't be something you can rationalize. It keeps the mystery open and it's good for the series. It engages the viewers and keep us entertain. Not being able to have all the answers, let the possibility for New Vad / Wat to exist into the story.

As for me, I don't want to see New Vad / Wat has the true reincarnation of past Vad / Wat. I know there are viewers who believe Vee is the true reincarnation and others who don't think he is. That's perfectly fine because this is what the story wants us to think. We are always presented with these two possibilities. However, since I'm not in favor of New Vad / Wat being the true reincarnation. I will explain why. In fantasy genre you can find the figure of the Doppelganger. It's a someone who looks exactly like someone else but who is not related to that person. It works perfectly well with New Vad / Wat as she looks like past Vad / Wat. Sometimes the Doppelganger is used as an evil twin in stories. New Vad / Wat is physically nearly identical to the past Vad / Wat, but she could have a radically inverted morality. Past Vad / Wat was a very caring and loving person, that's why San fell in love with her. However, we know that there are people who seek the power of the five-colored stone. They know it must be willingly given if they want to access the power of the stone. They also know San is looking for a woman and his family and Tao used a drawing of the person they are looking for. It wouldn't be too complicated to find someone who look the same and who can act as her to get the stone. Vad / Wat is inherently link to the stone.

I may be wrong, of course. After all, it's just pure speculation. I just like to imagine how things could be. It's also fun to compare reincarnation and doppelganger. This series is just fit for all these thoughts.

[grenade-maid]

Man, I think what makes me so sad about Guilty Gear is just knowing that there won't ever be anything quite like it. The cultural soup that spawned it just doesn't exist anymore. The edgy 90s counterculture boom can't really be replicated. Doom is something you run on thermostats and microwaves, Mortal Kombat is something your brother's friends played in college, spiked leather and heavy metal are things anyone might be into, arcades have been dead longer than they were alive, everyone is aware of JoJo. Everything that was shocking, transgressive, and exciting then is now pretty normal (if still beloved--nay, more beloved, even). They even made a new Matrix movie about this feeling. And the thing is, there were a lot of fighting games tapping into the same things as Guilty Gear was. They all died in obscurity, and Guilty Gear is the lone survivor, carrying the DNA of a cultural moment but unable to propagate, being the last of its species. Sol Badguy is a perfect protagonist for it, in that sense.

At the end of the day, there's just no real analogue. The genre of musclebound blood soaked anime it was drawing from like Fist of the North Star, Bastard! and Ninja Scroll don't really exist anymore. Rockstars of the hotel thrashing middle finger waving hard drinking hard partying variety don't really exist in the same way, either. Very few recent album covers would make for good stage backgrounds. There isn't really an "underground" subculture or counterculture--we're all just in different niches that are one online search away from each other. Nobody has to "introduce" you to metal, you don't have to know a guy, just look up a few whole discographies and listen on your commute. Fighting games themselves are a firmly established genre with it's own self selecting population--in the 90s it was pretty common for basically anyone to casually try a few rounds of Tekken or have some version of street fighter at home. That's not really the case anymore, and, as such, fighting games need to be designed differently and more thoughtfully than they used to be.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!None of these are bad things!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But it does mean that any attempt to do something in the same vein as Guilty Gear will necessarily be a pastiche. Hell, even Guilty Gear itself was pastiche by the time of XX. This isn't a bad thing either--I'm loving Little Goody Two Shoes, for example, which is the most lavish and loving throwback to 90s shojo and 00s RPG Maker horror games. But it would still be different. Because even the most loving reference or recreation, even the ones that surpass the quality of the originals, can't replace the spirit of expressing something quintessential to your current moment, whatever that moment is.

The moment that I cherish cause I grew up in its shadow is long gone. I don't know if there's anything in the current moment that could speak to me in the same way. Most of my favorite all time games, manga, anime, etc etc all came out in the last few years, so this isn't about old shit being better. I guess most of what I love that's currently being made just didn't lend itself well to riffing on in the same way. Unfortunately, high passion rock operas screaming your feelings just lend themselves perfectly to kickass games, and those aren't in vogue like they used to be. And, ultimately, on a strictly personal level, I'll never be 15 again, being shown the sickest shit I've ever seen before a D&D game for the first time.