#flute trap beats

[qualityisthekey]

New beats GO SUBSCRIBE [free] hard chill flute trap drill type beat instrumental legacy | prod. by quality key

[leighsartworks216]

I Want You

Sylus x gn!Reader

For all my folks who have been told they're not good enough to be wanted by anyone

Warnings: insecurity, kissing, alcohol, swearing, crying, embarrassment, not proofread

Word Count: 1,349

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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“Have you ever been with anyone?”

It’s a simple question, perhaps born from your uncertainty, here and now. Standing on a moonlit balcony, dressed nicely, dinner on a candlelit table behind you, already savored. It was all Sylus’s planning, of course. When he needed to go to another country, he’d invited you to join him, as a little vacation from your own work to help him with his. When he then invited you to dinner, well, you didn’t think it would be quite this… romantic.

You both stand side by side at the balcony railing, you with half a flute of champagne and him with his own glass of wine. With your elbows on the rail, the flute hangs loosely over the freefall to the ground below. Beyond that, an entire city stretches out into the dim horizon.

You laugh humorlessly. “No. Who would want me?”

“I want you,” Sylus answers quickly.

You don’t look away from the view. Instead, you swirl the champagne around the sides of your glass. The sardonic, deprecating smile slips slowly from your face. You don’t believe him.

He sets his glass on the railing and turns fully toward you. With gentle fingers, he holds your chin and guides you to look up at him. His eyes are sharp. “I want you,” he repeats, firmer this time. His hand slides up to cup your face, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. “What will it take for you to believe me?”

You divert your gaze again as you try to pull his hand from your face. “Look, you don’t have to pity me, Sy. I know I’m not desirable-”

“Not desirable?” He scoffs. “Now who ever told you that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe just everyone, my entire life? I know nobody wants me, you don’t have to bullshit me on this.”

“When have you ever known me to bullshit something?”

You don’t answer, and he doesn’t let you pull his hand away. Instead, he cradles your face in both hands, chasing your gaze. “I want you. I want… your laugh when you hear me singing, and your eyes when you’re trying to get a plushie from the claw machine.”

“This isn’t funny anymore.” You set your glass down to hold both of his wrists, trying to pull your burning face from his hold so you can leave.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not joking, sweetheart,” he scolds lightly. “I want your smile when we go for joyrides, and your frown when the Twins are playing tricks on you.”

He leans in, tightening the space trapped between you. The night air is pushed out. It’s just him and you, and your shared breaths. He looks so intense, but not in a frightening way.

Your whole body is hot and uneasy. This still feels like an elaborate joke meant to insult you and make your faux-vacation a personal hell for you to relive every 3am for the rest of your life.

“I want your courage,” he whispers, deep voice slightly raspy at this volume. “I want your stubbornness.”

Your eyes are burning. You’re so embarrassed - you wish you could just hide under the table cloth until the end of the universe.

“I want to watch that triumphant little dance you do when you beat me in Kitty Cards. I want to hear your voice when you first wake up.”

A tear slips free. His face is blurred by the breaking dam. He brushes away each tear with his thumbs.

“I want… every little thing about you.”

You sniffle. You hold tighter to his wrists, torn between continuing to push him away and pulling him closer. He doesn’t shake you off, either way. “What about all the things you don’t want?” you ask, voice trembling and weak and utterly pathetic.

He brushes his nose against yours. Your breath stutters. “Like what?”

“My temper and my recklessness and how- how naive I can be sometimes…” You close your eyes. You can imagine any expression you want on him like this, and right now, you can just picture so perfectly the realization that would come across his face when he realizes you’re right. When he finally remembers just how insufferable and annoying you are. More tears fall as you squeeze them shut tighter. “My fat and my pickiness and-”

“All of it,” he cuts you off. “Anything you can possibly think of. Everything. I want it all.”

His tone leaves no room for argument…

But you’ve never listened to that anyway.

“Why? Why do you want… all of this? You- You can have so much more than me. So much more. Why do you want to settle for me?”

He scoffs. “I’m not settling for anything. You should know by now, kitten, I don’t go for anything less than the best.”

You sniffle again. You can’t imagine what you look like, all gross from crying. One hand finally releases your face, slipping out of your grasp. You hold onto the railing tightly in its place. Something soft and cool brushes away the tears. It’s silk; it feels just like the expensive bed sheets he has on every bed in his base.

“Will you open your eyes?” He cups your face again, the silk pressed in between his palm and your cheek. He brushes his nose more insistently against yours. “Please?”

Water sticks to your eyelashes as you force them open. Under your eyes feels raw and heavy, but your tears have dissipated enough that his face isn’t blurry. He smiles softly.

“There you are,” he whispers, fondly stroking your cheek again. “I want you. Nothing you think will ever change that. Nothing anybody else thinks will change it, either.”

“Really?”

One corner of his mouth quirks up slightly higher, becoming a smirk. “Do I need to prove it to you?”

Your face burns with more than just embarrassment now. You nod ever so slightly. This close, you can see the way his eyes darken as they glance down at your mouth. You can feel his pulse under your hand where you hold his wrist, picking up speed. You just barely hear the slight hitch in his breath as his lips brush over yours. Your eyes flutter shut, and he fully slots your lips together.

He kisses you slow and deep, holding your face firmly to keep you there, to keep you from drawing away from him. It’s insistent. He pulls away for a breath and dives back in. Each kiss is more determined and desperate than the last, until he’s breathing heavily against your mouth, tongue begging for entrance. Until your lips are swollen as you let him in. Until he finally, finally draws away, and watches with hooded eyes as the string of saliva connecting your mouths snaps.

You’re just as dazed as he is. You haven’t even opened your eyes yet, dumbly seeking out his lips again for one more kiss until your mind catches up with the quiet chuckle that fans across your face. Your chest rises and falls with passion, your cheeks are burning with desire, and you look up at him like he’s just pulled the moon down from the sky and handed it to you. He can’t resist nipping gently at your bruised lower lip. He’s glad he didn’t, when you let out a choked whine, begging for more.

“Do you believe me now, my beloved?” he rasps. The name sends shivers down your spine.

You release his wrist and reach up to hold his face. He’s all sharp cheekbones and broad shoulders, but when your fingers brush his hair, it’s impossibly soft. He’s impossibly soft right now, leaning into your touch and sighing as your fingers scrape along the fine hairs at the base of his skull. Gathering all of the courage that he admires so much, you whisper, “I think I need a bit more convincing.”

He laughs, already kissing you when he says, “It would be my pleasure.”

And, despite all the things you’ve been told all your life, you think you’re really starting to believe him.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter

[whirlybirbs]

simon walking a patrol in his walls w a bucket of mortar, moth following behind him whistling tapping the wall with a rlly small chisel

3. handler's manual — ghost / reader

desc: a new year's eve honeypot brings a realization. pairing: lt. simon "ghost" riley / f!reader ; callsign: moth listen to: asmr by only fire (for seoul bar beats) a/n: i like making this traumatized man come to terms with his repressed sexual attraction to his co-worker in questionable mission scenarios. he really said "i am gonna kill this man because he touched you wrong" ⇽ prev / next ⇾

Your boots are crossed at the ankle and perched on the debrief table. You lean back, flip through the mission report, and then level Laswell with a look that — if given proper ammunition — could kill.

Your affect is flat. Unenthused.

"Honeypots are outdated."

"—But effective—"

"And misogynistic," you insist as you sit up and smack the manilla folder to the table. You drop your head back, "Kate, come on—"

"You're the only fit for this assignment, Moth," her eyes wander the room; bless their hearts, the men look decidedly uncomfortable about the subject. Price is fiddling with his watch. Johnny's tugging at his lip, watching the exchange closely. Gaz looks like he's going to be skinned alive if he speaks. Ghost is silent with his hands in his lap, unmoving — is... is he even listening?

"If you're trying to tell me the el-tee wouldn't look good in a red dress and a pair of heels—"

"Oi."

So he is listening.

There are snickers. Price rolls his jaw to hide a smirk. Johnny slides a look to Gaz. Gaz presses both palms to his eyes. Ghost is staring now and boring a glare into the side of your head, wishing it was a 9mm.

You wish it was a 9mm. Then, at least, you'd be at peace.

"I don't want to outsource this, Moth, the less people involved the better," Kate exhales tightly; she can't say she blames you, she's never been a fan of honey-trapping in her own career, "It's quick. In, out. Rendezvous with the target, sweeten him up, sell the story, get the information, and then get out."

You let out a long sigh. You're thinking about it, how — sure — this is part of your job description but for fuck's sake. This sort of assignments make your skin crawl. Too close, too dangerous. Things can go sideways fast and all you'll have is the skin on your back and a knife under your skirt.

"What's th' problem, Moth?" comes Ghost's low rumble from the corner; his arms are crossed tightly over his chest, his knee bouncing, "You 'fraid y' won't look good in a red dress an' a pair of heels?"

Son of a bitch. It must be a good mood day.

You flash him a glare — you narrow your lashes and then throw him your best faux laugh. It dies flat into a deadpan. "Ha, ha — That's funny, Riley."

Ghost chuckles; it's quiet, you barely hear the gravel rasp from your spot at the debrief table.

Laswell cracks a wry smile. Price rubs his beard.

"I'll do it," you concede after a long breath; the tension in the room dissipates upon your agreement. You stand, tuck the folder under your arm, and flash a threatening pointed finger at Laswell and Price.

"But, no glitter."

"Lookin' awfully sparkly, Mothy."

You hope Lieutenant Simon Riley falls off the building he's doing Overwatch from. Actually, no. You hope he gets hit with a stray New Year's Eve firework. Then, you hope a bird shits on him. And then he falls off the building.

There's glitter everywhere. Gold glitter. Flakey, scratchy gold glitter. It's in your hair, and all over your hands. You feel... uncomfortable. Uneasy.

It doesn't help that your Overwatch is cracking jokes in your ear as you weave through the busy rooftop bar in Seoul. The music is loud; the bass rattles in your chest and the lights strobe making the crowd melt away into blinks of light.

Soap's laughter is louder.

"Wha' was tha' request 'bout no glitter?"

You hope he also falls off the building.

You can't reply — you're too busy thanking a waiter for the flute of champagne that's gripped like your lifeline. Your rings tinker against the glass as you smile and bob to the music; your eyes are busy scanning the room, trying to spot Joo Sung-Min — the son of a tech mogul whose recent involvement with some questionable political allies has raised flags in the intelligence community. He's under the impression he's meeting with a Russian businesswoman: you.

You spot the target ten minutes in — the Brit and Scotsman's occasional commentary is no help. For fuck's sake, those two cannot shut up as you lean against the bar and toss your best dazzling smile at Joo Sung-Min. It catches the man's eye.

"That 'ow you flirt, Mothy?" comes the more grated reply from Ghost; through his scope he can see you place a hand on Sung-Min's arm. He grimaces down the ACOG, "Could use some work."

Ghost doesn't know what this feeling is in his chest. It's uncomfortable. Wrong. You're smiling up at the target again, giggling, and leaned back against the bar. That dress is a right show. All leg. His scope wanders — only for a moment — and immediately Ghost grits his jaw so tight his teeth ache.

"There y' go, Moth," comes Soap's slow encouraging whisper over the comms — there's something being slipped into your fingers by Sung-Min; Soap props himself up on his elbows, binoculars trained on his face, "Almost done."

Fingers linger, your smile drags out, your face tilts up — then, Sung-Min's gilded hand grips your chin. It's tight enough to bruise, and Soap curses tightly. Ghost's finger twitches on the trigger, his sight trained directly on the man's skull.

...Then, you rake your eyes down Sung-Min's black-on-black suit and make a point of biting your rouged bottom lip.

Whatever the fuck that was? It worked.

The kiss that Sung-Min drags out of you is anything but sweet, but you twirl that data-stick in your fingers when he pulls away to release the rough grip on your chin.

Ghost swallows tightly, his pupils dilating. He lets go of a tense breath as Johnny exhales in relief beside him. His trigger finger twitches again.

...He doesn't like this feeling.

Your bitten lips are meant to insinuate thanks, and you toss a lingering look over your shoulder as Sung-Min's eyes follow you as you blend back into the crowd.

You're in the elevator when you finally chirp back over the comms:

"Get me the fuck out of here. "

You hate honeypots.

Ghost is realizing, as he shrugs his sniper over his shoulder, that he does too.

[heraxic]

re8 as classical music

badly explained cause its 2am and i dont know musical terms.

Btw if anyone has any notes or other songs that would fit them id love to see it-

Ethan: Tchaikovsky - Marche Slave

Slow start, Ethan is unknowingly ensnared in a trap. As he realizes the danger Rose (and himself) are in the song becomes tragic and determined. Fastpaced strings, frantic beats —like prey escaping from predator— keeps escalating into something more and more insurmountable. A hopeful jingle is heard as Ethan finds out he can still save his daughter. A heroic theme plays as he overcomes the horrors despite it all (a sense of control over the situation is marked by highpitched anxious flutes superimposed by a deep stable horn). Then comes the first faceoff with Miranda who taunts him and Ethan’s tragic hero theme comes to a grinding halt as his heart gets pulled out of his chest. The drums pick up again and the little soldier is off to his final battle.

Mia: Claude Debussy - Clair De Lune

Sadly the real Mia doesn’t appear much. In the Winters home, Ethan writes that Mia doesn’t want to talk about what they went through in Louisiana, which leaves him with a lot of questions unanswered. In the flashback where she desperately tries reaching out saying ‘𝘺𝘰𝘶 matter’, she still can’t help keeping secrets- maybe out of fear that Ethan wouldn’t let it go (being extremely persistent) and they’d never return to normal. The song is heartbreaking and sad as she struggles coming to terms with the guilt and grief over what she’s done and what the one she loves went through because of it. On a last somber note, her child, who takes after her father both in looks and unresolved powers, is all she has left.

Rose: Saint-Saëns - Le Cygne

A little girl whos only ever known unconditional, all encompassing love. Even before her birth, it was known that her life would be full of uncertainty. Though stolen away for possessing powers she’s not even aware of yet, she continues to live and provide a beacon of hope for her family.

Chris: Richard Wagner - Ride of the Valkyries

Comes in the dead of night and rains hell on the Winters home. In his eyes, he’s doing the right thing, but has made himself the villain to the one he was trying to protect (victorious trumpets superimposed by high fearful strings). The transport gets intercepted by Miranda and the music falls. Once Chris finally explains himself to Ethan they’re allowed a brief bit of victory (steadier horn) as their combined efforts take down Miranda’s last line of defense (Heisenberg). In the end, Chris has to live with the victory of taking down the megamycete, the guilt and grief over Ethan’s death/sacrifice, and the troubling news from BSAA. A tainted victory.

Alcina: Tchaikovsky - Swan Lake

Appears first as a noble elegant socialite. She’s at the height of her power, owns a castle and three daughters and believes herself to be Miranda’s favorite. It’s business as usual, calm serene music. Suddenly an outsider has made his way into her home, killing her daughters one by one. She reaches out to Miranda, who only cares about the stupid ceremony, and realizes everything she knew was a lie. Anger and frustration builds. The music deepens, falls and rises again as she transforms, tries taking revenge on Ethan and fails, having lost everything in one evening.

Bela, Cassandra, Daniela: Rimsky Korsakov - Flight of the Bumblebee

Self explanatory. Hurried, manic and playful.

Donna: Tchaikovsky - Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy

Entrancing but with eerie insidious undertones. Fitting for the childlike dollmaker and her little porcelain friends. Ends with a fast and chilling theme for the twisted game of hide and seek

Moreau: Edvard Grieg - Hall of the Mountain King

Quiet, lumbering and slow. Ethan takes the Rose flask back easily; threatened with losing Mother Miranda it very quickly escalates as panic sets in and Moreau throws everything he has at him. The music swells and ends with a bang.

Karl: Aram Khachaturian - Masquerade Suite

A bold start. Right from the beginning he exudes arrogance, charisma and danger. He plays nice in front of Miranda with a waltz that picks up in intensity when putting Ethan through his first gauntlet. Then the tone gets deeper and quieter for a moment, as he plots in secret; it’s finally time to set his plan in action. It’s a race to the finish line as Ethan tears through the other lords, unknowingly playing right into Miranda’s plan. Realizing he could be a particularly useful asset/ally, Heisenberg puts him through the second gauntlet. The music is sadistically playful as he tests his will and endurance. Upon failing to recruit Ethan, the music picks up for the third gauntlet and ends with a bang, as Karl dies at the hands of Miranda.

Duke: Georges Bizet - Votre Toast

A friendly face unfitting in a place such as this. The upbeat and energetic theme sticks out like a sore thumb among the others. Whimsy and grandiosity acts as a brilliant facade for his enigmatic true nature. Though the jolly merchant schtick may be a lie, he always delivers on service.

Miranda: Sergei Prokofiev - Dance of the Knights

https://youtu.be/bBsKplb2E6Q?si=jnSpMO-bIhEcjJzb

Immediately imposes a sense of authority and dread. The dark theme plays over and over as she performs the same cruel experiments expecting different results, though it only succeeds in remowing her further from humanity. She imagines a world of pure bliss in acquiring her child, which at this point is as illusory as chasing the holy grail since she’s never satisfied. When she hears of Rose she schemes her way into the Winters home, elated to find the perfect vessel after a century of searching. She steals the child away, leaving behind a trail of destruction that finally catches up to her.

[damien-wolfram-art]

Ghost Can – and Will Dance at Weddings

A sequel to: “Ghosts Can’t Dance at Weddings”

Part of a collaboration with @flawlessstriker

Here it is!

@hashimada-week

It was a beautiful spring day in The Uchiha village. The warm golden midday sun dappled through the rows of cherry blossom trees, yuinou wedding gifts, and outdoor speakers that framed a massive promenade. There was a gentle breeze that rustled the pink petals and carried their lightly sweet scent over the hundreds of guests gathered before a brazier that was situated beneath an ornately crafted torii gate.

Even with all the beauty and the pleasantness of the season, Hashirama had never felt so tense. He was standing just behind his younger brother, Tobirama. His wife, Mito, his parents, and his three children were situated behind him, but his attention was centered dead ahead where he sensed a growing bitter iciness. Izuna Uchiha would be coming from there, but instinct told him that it wasn’t Izuna he was sensing.

The gruff voice of Fugaku Uchiha, one of the longest standing members of the Uchiha Clan, announced the start of the procession over the speakers, shocking Hashirama to attention, “Welcome, honored guests, to this momentous occasion! We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Izuna Uchiha and Tobirama Senju. Let us revel in the joy and love that fills the air!”

Ahead of his section, Hashirama sensed the chill growing closer. Izuna was approaching with a lit torch held close to his chest. He was positively radiant in its amber glow and Tobirama, who looked more exhausted than usual, even managed to perk up upon seeing him in his matching wedding kimono. Normally, seeing his brother light up this way would spark joy in Hashirama’s heart, but as the procession moved forward, Izuna and Tobirama turned to approach the torii gate together. Then, Hashirama saw him– Madara Uchiha.

The squealing flutes and staccato drum beat of live gagaku music accompanied the procession. Hashirama was late to his queue- too busy staring at the undead man whose sharingan red eyes looked right through him, leaving him feeling frozen to his spot. Before he knew it, he was over a meter behind and his wife, who was equally surprised by the appearance of the ghost, had to nudge her husband to get him moving. By then, he had to jog past the ghost’s mother to catch up and walk alongside him.

To the left of the procession, past Madara, were the many eyes of the Uchiha village; their wonderfully crafted gifts of tapestries and iron works were scattered all around them. To the right, although Hashirama certainly wasn’t paying much attention there, were the guests from The Leaf. They brought gifts of trees symbolizing growth and stability in a relationship as well as fruitful love lives. They brought sake barrels full of both sake and mochi to break open. Many of The Leaf’s denizens also brought gifts of honey wine: a delicacy the Senju had come across in their time as nomadic forest dwellers. It was said that after some heavy rain, water laden bee hives were harvested and that was the start of a Senju tradition. A gift of honey wine was a gift of hope for the couple to go on to live their lives in sweetness though some had snakes in the bottles. This imparted a different meaning. Many believed that the snakes would bestow their strength, stamina, and most importantly virility to their drinkers.

When the procession reached its destination past all the standing guests and the generous gifts, Hashirama looked to Madara again. He wanted to say something, but whenever he thought about speaking to him, his chest ached, and his words were trapped in his throat. There was a quiet murmur from the crowd– especially on the Uchiha side, but no one dared to interrupt the ceremonies. Hashirama and his family sat to the right of the brazier. Izuna’s family, Obito, and Fugaku’s family sat to the left. Tobirama and Izuna stood on their respective families’ sides of the brazier.

Another staccato drumbeat silenced the music and signaled the end of the procession. Fugaku approached from behind the couple, gesturing openly toward Hashirama as he began an important address, “Before we commence this sacred ceremony, it is essential to express our deepest gratitude and acknowledge the unwavering support of a beloved brother, Hashirama Senju. As Tobirama's elder brother, Hashirama has not only played an integral role in his life, helping Tobirama thrive even amidst challenging times, but has also made a generous goshugi contribution, making this wedding possible.”

Hashirama bowed awkwardly at the acknowledgement. While it was true that he had provided the funding for most of the ceremonies and that he loved his younger brother dearly, given the Madara shaped elephant in the room, he was rightly uncomfortable with receiving such high praise. He couldn’t help but look in Madara’s direction to see how he was taking it all. To his surprise, Madara seemed to care very little about him. The dark suited man was simply looking forward with a pleasant smile on his face.

Another drumbeat brought Hashirama to attention once more. Fugaku had his head bowed in reverence. Tobirama and Izuna followed suit. Then, the crowd did the same. “During this momentous occasion, we also take a moment to honor the memory of a cherished father, Tajima Uchiha. As Izuna's father and a former leader of our clan, Tajima's spirit lives on in all of our hearts. We know he would be immensely proud of the remarkable example Izuna has set for the Uchiha clan. Though he may not physically be with us today, his presence is felt, reminding us of the significance of family and the enduring bonds that transcend time,” Fugaku said with a serious and prideful tone.

Though his head was bowed, Hashirama’s eyes kept wandering to his left. Madara was playing along and miraculously, no one was questioning his attendance despite his life being lost over a year ago. He couldn’t fathom how his younger brother had pulled it off.

He remembered warning Tobirama time and time again that the dead were not to be trifled with. He had scolded him endlessly for having a god complex. He’d told him that a jutsu to bring back the dead would never work, and that people would start asking questions. He was wrong. 

Everyone raised their heads and Fugaku’s voice took on a slightly more uplifting tone; this was difficult for him since he was usually a very serious man, but he did his best, “Today, Izuna and Tobirama stand before us ready to embark on a journey of love, commitment, and shared dreams. For the Uchiha, fire is a powerful force that can cause great destruction, but it can also warm us, bring us together, and shelter us.”

Hashirama’s dark eyes widened at the mention of fire and guilt rose up within him, making him suddenly nauseous. “To share your Flame with another– it is to wholeheartedly accept them for all their flaws and to cast aside all judgements. It is to love them unconditionally with every fiber of your being. Furthermore, it is a promise to forever learn and improve together,” said Fugaku; Hashirama swallowed– hard.

 “As The Flame is passed from Uchiha to Senju, let us join together to celebrate their union and offer them our blessings, support, and well-wishes. May their love grow stronger with each passing day. May they find happiness, success, and fulfillment in one another. With joy and anticipation, let us commence this blessed wedding ceremony!”

Izuna was smiling when he passed the torch to Tobirama. Tobirama took his duty very seriously. As the flutes rang out again, he took the torch that was marked with a white and red tipped uchiwa fan, the crest of the Uchiha. With the utmost of care, he then held it over the brazier between them and it burst alight.

There was a musical flare before some silence. Then, Fugaku led the applause and said, “so, The Flame is passed from Uchiha to Senju! With this Flame, we recognize Tobirama as Uchiha. May this blazing brazier serve as a symbol of his acceptance into our clan!”

From there, the ceremony moved on. Hashirama was left feeling shell shocked. He clapped for a little too long and his wife needed to correct him again. Feeling her small hand rest on his thick forearm he looked down at it; understanding her concern, he apologized profusely and quietly.

Next, the couple of the hour began the ritual of San San Kudo. As a koto player from the Uchiha began plucking some strings, Fugaku moved to be seated and his wife, Mikoto, took his place, quietly filling the first of three sakazuki cups with three splashes of sake. Izuna graciously accepted the cup with a bow, raising and lowering it twice before drinking. He then returned it to Mikoto respectfully. She filled it in the same way once more and then passed it to Tobirama, who mirrored Izuna’s movements perfectly. During this first drink, the couple thought of their parents and the bonds that were made leading up to their union. During the second cup, they thought of their human flaws of hatred, passion and ignorance. For hatred, funnily enough, they thought of each other and their troubled pasts. For passion, Izuna thought of his brother, Madara; his passion had proven fatal after all. Tobirama however, was still thinking of Izuna and feeling only a little guilty about it. For ignorance they both thought of Hashirama and with the third cup they were released from these flaws.

If only Hashirama could have been so lucky. Instead, he had to endure what was admittedly a beautifully crafted sado tea ceremony hosted by Mikoto with all of the important seated guests; this included Madara who was sat directly across from him and maintained the same stoic aloofness that he had throughout the other ceremonies. After that, came the hiroen reception party, where those seated maintained their positions and partook of a meal consisting of some of the wedding couple’s favorite foods.

There was a bountiful spread of river fish, prawns, pickled vegetables, white rice, miso soup, sekihan– red bean rice (for good luck), inarizushi, more tea, honey wine, and of course sake. It was a filling and delicious meal. Still, Hashirama couldn’t help but feel like he was the only one uncomfortable around an eating, drinking, and talking corpse.

He typically loved these sorts of events, but at this one he found himself drinking in excess to cope with his discomfort. He was also uncharacteristically quiet which garnered the attention of his younger brother. Naturally, Tobirama was quite busy making sure Izuna was happy so addressing his elder brother’s discomfort would have to wait, but this didn’t stop him from noticing the glazed over look in Hashirama’s eyes even when the cake cutting was announced.

There was music playing again. It was louder, more jovial, and less traditional. The formalities were finally coming to an end.

Hashirama was fixated on Madara– his right leg bouncing with anxiety. To him the reception party felt as if it were underwater. He watched as Madara was served a slice, bowed courteously, and began to eat– all with a smile. At some point he too was served a slice, but when he didn’t touch it, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Elder brother?”

The room suddenly got louder. Hashirama’s empty eyes turned to meet Tobirama’s compassionate red gaze. “Huh?”

“You haven’t touched the cake. Are you feeling well?” Asked Tobirama’s deeper voice quietly.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I must have just been lost in the moment.”

Tobirama rubbed at Hashirama’s larger shoulder and sighed, “I see. Care to join me for a walk then? I’d like the company and could use some freshening up. I’d hate to bother Izuna with such trifles when he’s having such a good time.”

Hashirama looked over at Izuna who was happily chatting with his mother and his revenant brother. He was beginning to feel sick again, so he opted to join Tobirama, “sounds good.”

The two walked some distance away from the reception party to a private spot amongst the cherry blossom trees before Tobirama stopped abruptly. “I know this is hard for you,” he began strictly, “but can you at least Try to consider how your behavior is being perceived?”

Hashirama was used to Tobirama getting frustrated with him, but after holding his tongue for so long he could no longer. “Tobirama,” he said in the tone he used when chastising him. “What did I say would come from this- this affront against nature? It’s no good. Can’t you see?”

“This “affront against nature” has made Izuna very happy. On this day he should have nothing but happiness! I see nothing wrong with that!”

“He’s a dead man Tobirama!”

Tobirama rubbed at the bridge of his nose and groaned, making quick rigid motions with his arms as he spoke, “I am very aware of that. I am aware that you were the one to make that happen. I am aware of his crimes against The Leaf, but right now none of that matters! Obito is here as well and so long as he disappears after the festivities are over, I have promised not to pursue him either! Both he and Madara share one thing in common: Izuna sees them as brothers. In the same way that Izuna has turned his eyes away from your transgressions, elder brother, so too must we!”

Hashirama went moon-eyed in surprise. He hadn’t realized that he himself had imposed so much discomfort on Izuna. In one way or another, Izuna must have been harboring the same feelings toward him as he had toward Madara.

Settling into the thought, he bowed apologetically. “I understand,” he said. “Please forgive me for being so selfish.”

Tobirama placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder again and looked him deep in the eyes. “It’s just one day,” he reassured him. 

The consolation was enough for Hashirama to return to the reception party and eat his cake as it was wrapping up. Fugaku announced over the speakers that there would be an after-party with drinks and music. The guests who stood watching over the ceremonies were invited and their cheers could be heard far and wide.

The music began to play loudly over the speakers and the important seated guests began to trickle their way into the crowd. Seeking comfort in familiarity, Hashirama stood and followed the newlyweds down the promenade. When he was offered some sake, he even began to relax a little. Mingling with the crowd, he’d all but forgotten about-

Madara was approaching him and with some strong intent. The jaunty music shifted. The koto players began a slow and pining waltz in minor key. Hashirama met Madara’s confident sharingan for the first time all day and he was captivated.

“Shall we dance?” Asked the voice of a dead man.

Before he could register what he was agreeing to, Hashirama nodded and was swept away from his family by a firm cold hand that felt dry like handmade washi paper. Then, hand in hand, he could only follow Madara’s lead. The sharingan could not only read movements but could cause them in the right circumstances. In that moment, Hashirama was grateful for that fact. They moved as one, pushing away and coming together three slow and agonizing times. When they were close, Hashirama felt safe and supported in Madara’s strong arms. When they pushed apart, he longed for Madara’s embrace.

Then, Hashirama found himself spinning– one two three times. The dizzying maneuver only made his light inebriation and confusion more evident. Still, he noticed a pattern– movements of three. It was the Uchiha battle tradition. His heart began to race. His hands met Madara’s again only to be rolled outward and get caught at the end of Madara’s reach. He made an involuntary open gesture to match his dance partner and from there he could feel the judgmental gazes of the people in the crowd around him. Madara was making an example of him.

It felt like an eternity before he was rolled back into Madara’s arms. He wanted to just hide there– away from all the guilt and pain, but Madara sent him away again. There, everyone could see the man in the brown patchwork suit for the foolish, self-indulgent, shameful, liar of a man he was. The heat in his already alcohol flushed face increased. The following embrace felt so short in comparison and when he was sent away again, he could hardly stand it. His eyes stung as he tried to fight the rush of his emotions, but then, he was rolled in for the third time; Madara allowed Hashirama's momentum to continue, but he released him from his control. Because of this, Hashirama lost his balance. He reflexively gasped as his center of gravity rapidly approached the ground, but he was promptly snatched by the waist into a deep awkward dip. Briefly, time froze, and he took in all that was that moment with Madara Uchiha. His skin was dull and dry. It cracked on his face and hands. His mane was still impressive and lustrous however– a stark contrast to Hashirama’s tired looking faded brown locks. In his dark suit, crimson colored vest, tie, and with the cherry blossoms falling around them, Hashirama dared to think he was beautiful.

Then he remembered the crowd– his wife, his children. Madara leaned over and pulled him close. “I still have one more move, Hashirama,” he said.

Hashirama felt his heart rate pick up even more. The dip, the lean, and then what? What was Madara intending to do in front of so many people? Would he really go so far as to make that kind of example of him? Was it wrong that he wanted him to?

Madara whispered five words to him. Then, his heart sank. He helped him stand and walked away, leaving him stunned in front of everyone.

What do you think he told him?

@anannua Still kickin'! ~

[gold-rhine]

Hello, you said you would change some things about mavuika in the archon quest. 👀 Would love to hear your thoughts on her. I liked her a lot and thought it was a great introduction to her character.

i generally liked her and as i said, im not commenting on bigger plot until i see what they're cooking, the problems i have is with presentation and dramatization

1.i think they should have made tournament a bigger deal. yeah, kachina can have central role, but we could have time to run around as traveler in between her segments and see other fighters, bc rn its like. oooooh nation wide sacred tournament!!! and then its kinda just kachina has 3 fights and thats it. fountain act 1 i think did better job at presenting opera and trials as gigantic centre of attention and being important for the entire country.

2.ode of resurrection failing to call kachina scene is good as plotpoint, but execution is very mid. idk if its my own audio, but it sounded to me that the ode as mixed very quietly contrasting to dialogue, as like background music. they should have BLASTED it, like they have insane piece of music, they should have utilized its power to the full. if you havent heard, please do. it gives me chills every time, except for how it was used in game. like. stadium is almost empty, you had like giant rows of seats with about 3 ppl on the row. hoyo fucking come on, crowd in some npcs. it should feel massive, not like 15 guys at a local village football match. and like. mavuika just walks off screen and then walks back like hey guys our resurrection failed. this moment has so much drama potential!

like. we're shown the CROWDED stadium. chorus rises. the sacred flame is growing bigger and bigger. chorus almost at its peak, blasting. mavuika is reaching to the flames, her own hair turning into fire. music at crescendo, flames are roaring sky high, and then WHOOSH purple abyss flash, flames flicker, almost going out completely, mavuika is thrown back, crowd is scared and flailing mb we have a momentary frame of seeing scared crying kachina in the night kingdom. much more obvious impact to emphasize what a big deal sacred flames are

3. mavuika giving up her power is another great plot beat that was executed super meh. like. nothing against iansan, but she's standing there looking at mavuika the whole time, like are you done with your traumatic event? was it very traumatic? mavuika is like haha im dying on the inside but its fine, lets go. no music, no fanfare, very little emotional gravity for how important this is.

instead it could be like. mavuika dismisses iansan, like, this is something i need to do alone. she's slowly walking up to the flames. ode of resurrection theme starts playing, but no chorus, its very somber version. natlan is about unity of ppl, no one fights alone, etc, but at this moment mavuika feels very lonely and deep down, scared. she doesnt know capitano doesnt fight weakened enemies, she's giving up what she thinks is her last line of defense, she believes in her ppl, but in this moment she feels powerless. her fair turns to fire, she reaches out, hesitant, music is a single wind flute playing natlan theme, and mavuika lets go of her power, fire draining from her hair slowly, she's visibly distraught, its a melancholic and quiet moment that lingers for some time. then she gathers her strength, puts on the brave face and goes to iansan to joke about taking photos, but she's allowed the moment of vulnerability, for the latter acts contrast to when natlan ppl will be coming together.

4.the moment when group is trapped in night kingdom and rescued is already good, but i think itd be insane if we had resurrection ode call back. like they just fell, the gap in the ceiling just closed, they are looking at each other in the dark, scared. natlan theme starts playing, very quietly at first, the chorus is barely audible, but as the cracks are showing on the cavern ceiling, it grows lowder and lowder, until the darkness shatters, we have that great shot of mavuika breaking the border between 2 worlds, and the chorus is finally able to reach the highest point, in contrast to how it had to break short of it the first time. and then the group is immediately AT THE STADIUM, crowded with all the people here singing. the mavuika shot already shows stadium behind her, lets just get there, have a wonderful call back to natlan people coming together and greeting them as heroes coming back, including kachina, who can finally be treated as a hero. like we can say its magic, time moves differently, whatever, its much more cinematic flow than the group wakes up at the random hill and has to waddle back to mavuika's room, and then like 20 minutes of info dump later we get stadium scene of praising kachina.

[gallivantingheart]

Use Your Mouth as an Anchor

masterlist | previous | next

🍵 chapter 5: persimmon🍵

who?: soonyoung/hoshi x (f)reader

word count: 2403

genre/s: fluff, humour, social media!au

warnings: some course language

genre: social media!au, princess diaries II !au, humour, romance, mild angst

warnings: none, as of yet

**please ignore the timestamps - they are not accurate**

a/n: my dudes, we go a biggin'. also, updated line break design, if one cares. trying real hard not to make wonwoo too ooc, i'm just so used to being totally delulu infatuated with him *sigh* also also! shameless self-plug, but i have a new jeonghan fic (hold onto your pants, it's 41K+ wc) here, if you would like some "light" reading pffft

The royal residence never failed to take your breath away, day or night. Tonight though, coming through the small gardens before the front doors instead of the servants’ entrance, felt a little like entering enemy territory.

The Old Genoa Palace has been standing for almost 500 years, built not too long after the split between Amaide and Korea. Built in the same style as Joseon-era Korean architecture, it stood as the image of independence. New Genoa Palace is only about 140 years old, built a lot more like the mansions from New York with its style of stone work and what look like western features - those western motifs are actually a lot closer in eastern influence with intricate and sharp square lace-like stonework. But enough about the history.

Wonwoo was meeting you there - he was carpooling with another journalist that lived closer to him. Apparently, you also took forever to get ready, which you took offence to. You had picked up the dress from Joshua yesterday, who was bristling with excitement for you. Your ID, phone and invite in a purse with a long silver chain strap on the passenger seat.

You pull up the entry of the small formal gardens, turning off the engine of your lovingly beat up hatchback. The car was easily kissing 20 years of age and looked pitiful against the rich expanse of a damn palace. You pass the keys to a valet.

“Please be careful with her.” You mutter.

The shockingly young man smiles fondly and slips in. You watch her putter off and show your invite to the next employee, who flips it over and scans it under UV light. A symbol shows up and he nods, checking you off a list on his tablet.

“Up the main paved path, following the lights.”

You follow diligently and try not to linger on the fragrant florals or the pretty bridge over the man-made pond - more layers to a trap. Surely there were easier ways to enter, but this must be their way of showing some kind of prowess or setting some kind of ambiance. When you break through, you realise why. You hadn’t come in the front doors, not really. It’s the Old Palace, beautifully lit. The queen had arranged for the event to be held in the massive courtyard of the historical palace, over the cool slate coloured stone under the last of the warm weather for this time of year. It had glorious acoustics, the orchestra raised on the next landing on the staircase carrying the music effortlessly. Despite all the beauty, your stomach lurches into your throat. Where was Wonwoo!

You try to stick to the edges, taking a flute of… oh. Champagne. You put it back on the next tray and try to find something a little less traumatic to drink. Quiet as can be amongst the vast array of guests - from members of parliament to foreign dignitaries and ambassadors. You do spot a few celebrities, mainly of the musical variety. It was well-known that King Consort Jihoon studied music and was very invested in it. Wonwoo might be there. Snippets of conversation were light and devoid of any big news, which was nice. Quite a few about family gripes and dog maintenance. Still, through it all, you feel as if your family name has been branded on your forehead, just waiting to be seen. Finally you find him the shadow of a covered walkway, looking very sleek in his three piece suit.

“Thank God. I forget you hide better than I do.” You mutter.

He smiles, genuine. “That’s true. You’re here earlier than I expected.”

“Still offending me, ‘Woo.”

He shrugs and gestures to guide you to a manned refreshments table with another vaguely familiar face. It was a servant of the house you had interviewed a few times for work at the advice of your main contacts.

You smile. “Hey, lovely to see you.”

“And you! Surprised though ‘cause of, well, you know.”

Your expression becomes brittle on your lips and you clear your throat to steel yourself. Way to point out the obvious.

“Me too! But I got the invite, so I do as I’m told. Do you have anything that isn’t champagne?”

You are handed a glass of a non-sparkling rose and the fruity notes ease you. With Wonwoo on side you’re confident to venture a little further into the crowd.

“Got much in the way of work intel?” You hum behind your glass.

He shrugs, adjusting his glasses - you knew he was due for a contacts appointment, but was putting it off.

“I guess.”

“You’re really keeping that convo rolling, Wonwoo.”

“I’m the only one here who doesn’t feel like overtalking when they’re nervous.”

You glare. “Okay, you really gotta shut up - blow after blow, buddy. Like, it hurts.”

He grins. “Make up your mind - talk, don’t talk…”

“Stop dragging me! You’re my best friend!” You whine, taking an extra step ahead to turn and face him as you walk, almost walking backwards. “Like it doesn’t help that I’m a cat amongst the pigeons - I need moral support -oof!”

You missed the way Wonwoo’s eyes had gone over your shoulders, blown wide so you couldn’t save yourself when you stepped into someone and jabbed your stiletto into their shoe. There was a heavy grunt and your balance tipped dangerously. All your body could process was panic. Wonwoo reaches for you just as you do for him but there is a third set of hands setting you right. You spin to face the other party, an apology already formed on your tongue - it quickly goes dry at the sight of curious dark eyes.

“I-I Kwon Soonyoung.” You croak.

He goes a little shy at the intensity of your gaze. “Yeah. Careful there.”

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going. Is your foot okay?” You stoop as if to reach for his designer dress shoe.

He chuckles and shrugs. “I’ve had worse. Please, enjoy your night.”

You squeak out a noise to respond as he slips away. Your number one anti and you stepped on his foot! Wonwoo is swarming you as well, something you are more familiar with.

“Soonyoung! You need to be careful.” He says low.

You rub at your arms like scrubbing off in a shower. “I know! But, he must not recognise me.”

The pair of you stick together while you mingle, shooting glances here and there in silent conversation - notes and quotes of others to keep in mind for the next publication. 

You note that Queen Haneul makes the rounds as well, but nowhere near you. Well, at least someone knows the target on your back, even as she invited you in. But something struck you as odd.

“Wonwoo.”

He hums and turns to face you, stooping a little with your quiet call. “Yeah?”

“Have you seen a pattern between some of these guests?”

“Spell it out.”

“A good 60% of them have come in pairs or threes.”

“Of course. Couples, assistants.”

You shake your head and lift your hand from the tight grip on your purse to point at a trio to your right. Italian, old money - dare you say, part of the old Sicilian royal family.

“Majority are heirs - daughters - with an escort party. All our age.”

Now, Wonwoo frowns, adjusting his glasses while you point, again and again to different little pockets. Soonyoung is all smiles, squeezing the shoulder of a parliamentary member while exchanging for another flute of champagne with his free arm, not even looking as he does so.

“And they’re all eyeing up Head Advisor Soonyoung like prime Wagyu beef.” Wonwoo slowly adds.

Your jaw hangs loose as you straighten up and grab your friend’s lapel. You even make a dramatic gasp. Together you see the first catch of the evening, a pretty woman, European, lay a hand gently on his shoulder, curtsey and then gesture for the floor. You take a look around the party guests and note that every young woman you had pointed out is of good standing and single. Your jaw drops - it’s royal speed dating for goodness sake! 

 “Oh my - it looks like a matchmaking session. Queen Haneul is hosting. She personally signed my invite, and most likely everyone else’s here too.” Now that was some good gossip.

Together you watch between glasses of wine and champagne as Soonyoung works his magic. Passionate and charismatic, none of his partners tear their gaze from him. The Head Advisor to Queen Haneul had always been filled with boundless energy and a smile that could be familiar to Amaide residents everywhere - you had grown up with it, after all.

But as you’re watching this man go for a turn about the dance floor for the fourth time with some left-footed aristocrat you cringe and wince like a bad sports game.

“What the hell is happening there? Maybe Uncle Fred is right - the royal family is cruel.” You’re onto your third rosè, which is a little tacky of you but hey, free good quality alcohol should never be denied.

Wonwoo is at your back, visibly wincing. “Yeah. At this rate he’s going to leave tonight with less toes than when he started.”

“Or at least some serious swelling.” You add.

Now a Singaporean socialite slips into his arms and for all her class and grace, has no rhythm. You knew Soonyoung was an excellent dancer - it was no secret he had etiquette and dance lessons as part of the royal family. But his patience and talent was growing thinner with every partner. That passion had a volatile streak, edging closer with every match. You put your empty glass onto a passing tray.

“Oh, Wonwoo, someone has to help him. How can no one at this damn party keep time?” You lament.

By no means were you a musical genius, but you could count a 4/4 time and do a simple box waltz. You shrug your purse off your shoulder and stuff it into Wonwoo’s long hands.

“Stay here.”

“Where are you going?” His voice belies a rising panic.

You wink over your shoulder and shrug. “To help Kwon Soonyoung.”

You see Soonyoung's nose wrinkle and his teeth bare as the young woman steps on his left foot again.

“Uh, may I cut in?” You say with a light hand to his shoulder.

He turns too fast, bringing his partner with him and his expression nothing less than gobsmacked. His shoulder eases under your touch.

“Sure.” He dips his head to the tall young woman with knobbly elbows and knees. “Thank you very much for the dance.”

She mirrors him and shoots you a confused expression with her well-shaped brows before slipping back into the ocean of people. His grip is secure but not strangling and you pause to pick up the timing of the music.

“Just a heads up, I think you’re gonna need a medic by the time tonight is over. I’m surprised you’re still walking.” You mutter. “I couldn’t stand watching it any longer.”

He laughs, throwing his head back and his own grasp secure on your waist. “Thank you, I appreciate your concern for my poor feet. However, the queen has given me worse while she was in training. You’re in good hands with me.”

Soonyoung is an exceptional dancer, leading the pair of you as if you’re on air, gliding through the other couples. Somehow, you manage to forget the distain you’ve seen in his gaze when fellow reporters ask about the latest Chon family farce. The venom in his gaze has since melted away and he even worms a twirl out of you, your dress fanning out with the motion. This must be what it’s like to be a fairytale princess - if only your uncle knew. When he catches you, his grin is cheeky and bright, every bit the charismatic Advisor he was known to be.

“Told you that you were in good hands.” He says smugly.

Before you can refute it, his grip tightens and the world tilts in a deep, graceful dip. You can’t help but gasp, mouth rounded as he shades you from the moonlight. You love and hate the way your heart stutters. Romance is dead, you remind yourself. Not to mention it would never happen with Chon Hater #1. Still, you push past your reservations to make idle conversation.

“So I am. I hope you didn’t mind me butting in. I don’t mean to be arrogant when I say I know I can dance better than any of them. For your sake.”

He grins. “Of course not. It’s not conventional, sure, but since when has anything here been conventional.”

He switches up the tempo and position of your dance, edging into foxtrot territory and you frown to concentrate. The strings finally signal the song’s end and the two of you go still on the edge of the dance floor.

“For the record, you are a great dancer.” He murmurs, close to your ear and conversational in nature. “What was your name?”

Your throat dries up and you clear it roughly. “Uh, just Y/N.”

Soonyoung makes a show of bowing to you and you curtsey. “Well then, just Y/N, I hope you enjoy the rest of your night.”

You murmur and smile. “You too, Soonyoung.”

You feel like Cinderella, fleeing the scene as soon as someone else sinks their claws into him, pushing through the throng of attendants to find Wonwoo. Your eyes are wide and beseeching, catching like a hangnail on every face to find your familiar safety net. That rosé must have really gotten to your head. You lock eyes with the Queen as you roughly push through. Her face mirrored yours in youth and she brightened at the sight of you, some kind of knowing in her sight you couldn’t understand. She was the one who invited you, after all. You finally crash into Wonwoo, snatching your bag from him and getting tangled in the long chain strap. 

“‘Woo, I gotta go. I - I need to get home. I’ve had too much to drink.” You’re breathless.

Tactfully, he doesn’t stop you and you don’t look over your shoulder as you skirt through the many open air corridors to an alternative exit, your feet throbbing and breath heaving.

Oh, this wasn’t going to bite you in the ass, no waaaay.

[dansconcepts]

GI Roleswap AU - Meeting Venti

"I am the last one." The yaksha- who's actually Venti, who knew?- admits. 

You seem pretty lighthearted about it was Aether’s immediate thought, but he noticed the tenseness he doesn’t often see in the bard/yaksha’s eyes, the unnatural glint of a smile that doesn’t match. His tease dies on his tongue.

However, in unsurprising Paimon fashion, she holds no such reservations as she goes, “You don’t seem the least bit upset about that!”

Venti's eyes immediately narrow, but his smile grows even wider, if that were possible. “Don’t tell me how I feel.” He hisses out, words dipped in honeyed poison.

“EEP!” Paimon screeches. The fairy’s head frantically bobs up and down. “Got it! Loud and clear!” 

Yet under her breath, she murmurs, “to think the bard can be so scary like that… what a terrifying change!” 

Venti’s eyes glare impassively at the small being, and she immediately freezes, wondering if he heard. 

The yaksha turns away. He has a more settled gaze, with an actual frown. She lets out a sigh of relief. Aether watches them, calculating. 

“If that’s all you needed, I best take my leave! Oh, to depart from you is quite the relief!"

"HEY! WHAT DO YOU MEAN RELIEF?!"

"Ehe~! Bye-bye Traveler and your little pet!" The bard waves in lieu of answering. Almost like an afterthought, he adds, "You're pretty decent for a human!"

And he disappears with a sudden breeze of the wind.

[Some angsty Venti in the form of the flute scene because Xiaoven under the cut]

Is this how he dies? 

The silence blares louder than his pained gasps of breath. Each sharp intake bleeds out of him like the gashes he's taken. His head pounds to a jarring rhythm, lyrics growled and snarled at him as they take delight in his pathetic attempts to stand up and find his lyre. 

He'd honestly cry out, if his throat was able to. Yet it feels like even that, too, is torn apart, and his tears flow more freely than he'll ever be able to feel. 

It certainly flows better than his rhymes. He snorts.

He honestly could use the rest, eternal as it’ll be. So many of his friends have done so already.  Vennessa… Dvalin… 

He wonders if there will be anyone who would tell the tale of the death of the final, and last, Yaksha. The one who sung lullabies to entrap monsters into eternal slumber. The one who used the winds to carry a voice razor sharp in both wit and piercing with wordplay. The one only seen by a few and trapped by the contract he had signed, dying on the same soil he vowed to protect. 

Voices grow louder with their resentment. Crescendos, really, until everything means nothing. All of it.

He is so tired.

This is what he deserves. He aches to close his eyes.

Yet he doesn't.

A soft melody calls to his soul. To his role. To the body that lays still, so unlike himself who never stops dancing to a phantom beat.

He is certain it belongs to a flute. 

Yet what flute's songs can drown out screams? What flute was a serenade, coaxing the burning of the wounds to soothe, the thoughts in his head to rest, letting himself focus on the forefront of his mind?

A stunning clarity did the flute bring. Even with his... talents, he cannot produce such a sound. Its playing coos at him, reaching out a metaphorical hand from its composer. 

It was unlike any song he's heard before, and he knows so many over the years from purely seeking it out. 

He wants to stand and cry and laugh and cry again.

So unlike his music.

Music acting to save, not to kill. 

He knows not of anyone, either archon, mortal, or adeptus, that plays an instrument like this flute.

However, he's presented the answer when the song reaches a bridge of calm, of promise, and of a cool caress against his cheek. Wind! 

He's taken, higher and higher, and he laughs. He laughs, even with the blood drying on his skin. He laughs, because he is weightless, and has heard the most beautiful thing in his whole lifetime. He doesn't want to let it go. 

The beauty of this world rushes through him, and suddenly he wants nothing more than to experience more of it. To remember it. The now and the then. Maybe even the potential of a future just as beautiful.

And, as if praising him, he feels the wind slowly die down around him, gently setting him back on the ground. 

It spins around him. His braids float with it. His hand trails after the winds with a giggle, before it drops something in his hand.

A Vision.

An Anemo Vision.

He recalls the name from his Lord Tartaglia, mentioned offhandedly with an indifferent shrug, slightly terse on his lips.

"Alatus." He breathes. The name of his saviour. 

And the music stops. Yet the wind- or perhaps it was himself, really- keeps the melody stuck in his head. 

It hasn't ceased. He doesn't want it to.

He doesn't ever try to replicate it. 

[minecraftfanatic]

A continuation of the below link:

Why was he doing this again?

"And here I was expecting you to prefer beer. How civilized of you."

For real Kiyoshi, wherever you were now, you owed Lucan the biggest favor of your life. The minute this was over he was going to retire to this nice tree house filled with strong branches, bridges, and geared to the nine in lights and traps and whatever Niika could cook.

"Sticking to the silent treatment? In front of your host no less? I thought you knew better, what with your friend in custody." Skorch poured himself a second bottle from whoever owned this restaurant. Privately Lucan apologized, commiserating with the terrified staff--hard to hold it against strangers for wanting to stay alive, overlord wining and dining with some nobody using their fancy crystal flute glasses. He didn't want to be here anymore than they did but Marcus was counting on him and he needed the man's muscles as much as he needed all that iron he was melting.

Props to the chefs, cooking's ten out of ten. Didn't know what he was eating but it was good stuff.

"I'm glad to see you like dinner. I ensured it was edible beforehand."

It took Lucan a solid minute to parse it out. "Wait, you made this?"

That smug bastard had the audacity to smirk at him, sipping his wine like some cheap book antagonist. "Did you think I spent all my time working?"

"Yes." He made this? Ugh, he took back everything good he said--trashy, weird, deserved nothing good in life to waste ingredients like that. First chance he got he's washing it all down in cider, then he'll check if Niika's got anymore of that fish pottage. He doesn't care if it got beetroot and pumpkin mashed together so long as-

...Why was he frowning like Lucan spat at him? "What, cat got your tongue?" Oh thank god no Felina heard that, "Not like it's my fault you're so busy everyday that all we see is you beating some random old lady for her groceries."

Okay, he didn't actually see that (but that would totally happen) due to living in the wilderness and trying to organize a plan. Honestly, if it wasn't for one of his ex-inmates ratting him out he'd be long gone by now but noooooo. Now Lucan was in this bizarre dinner with Netheran slavemasters who showed off how rich and powerful they were by dazzling feeble minds with their cooking prowess.

...At this rate, he was going to drink his brains out.

"You have a point," huh? "I've been making rounds to remind Felden exactly who holds their leash, but why not delegate? It would be easy to fill ranks." Uhhhhhhhh that's not what he meant. At all. "I know more than a few who've been chomping for a glimpse of glory. A few checks to ensure competence and I'd finally have some free time."

"Holy shit, I was just joking." Lucan blurted out. Dude, don't do that--he was trying to organize a rebellion here! He was NOT apologizing to Niika on how a simple recruitment exploded into Nether reinforcements. Hells, he didn't want to explain this dinner either! "Also, why are you listening to me--screw that, why are we even here? You literally made me sit and eat for an hour so what's the point?"

"Little rabbit, do you honestly have no clue why we're here?" Smug prick why don't you move that mug closer where I can-- "You're the one that started it. I'm simply reciprocating your affections by the traditional approach."

Lucan stared.

Stared.

Staaaaareeeed.

"Are you quite done yet?" The sheer punchableness shocked Lucan back into reality, gawking at Skorch like that napkin he was dabbing his mouth with was a live toad.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU????"

"...Rude."

"Rude my--affections! In case you didn't notice genius, I never said I loved you. PERIOD!"

"Love is a different matter," Skorch replied blandly, "Let's stick to endearment for now."

"That's the same thing!" Oh HELL NAW! Lucan was not doing this. What did this loon think he was in--a theatre drama? Pushing out of his chair he goes, "Look, I'm sorry you got the wrong idea this whole trip but I'm definitely not into you that way and this was a sorta nice night but I've really gotta get going and--"

"Find your pet?" He can't breathe. His brain stops working, Skorch is smiling, bugs are crawling up the table leg on his right, and he can't breathe. "You've done a fantastic job doing the work for us. I was wondering where you were ever since my subordinates reported your pet's arrival, but then you walked up to my door." Giving a glance at Lucan's untouched wine Skorch refilled his cup. "But please, do go on ahead. It would help track down your pet." Glass softly chinked on green table covers trimmed gold. "It would be irresponsible of me to leave a frightened kitten alone in the dark. Isn't that right little rabbit?"

Lucan pushed his chair back in place.

[blueraineshadows]

Dark Betrayals Part Thirteen

Sebastian 🔺️F!MC 🔺️ Ominis

It's time for MC and Daisy to leave, Sebastian has revenge on his mind, and Ominis must make a final farewell. Chapter Master List

Triggers: violence, panic attacks, murder, death

Chapter Thirteen - The Last Dance

The delicate strains of violins filled the hall, a cultured backdrop to the low murmur of voices, as the Wizarding World's finest pure bloods and supporters mingled and sipped from fancy fluted glasses. Dressed in their finest dress robes and observing immaculate etiquette, MC eyed them with mild disgust. These distinguished ladies and gentlemen appeared to be cultured and polite, but underneath, they were no different than the most basic savage in the street. She had seen most of these simpering guests attending the duels down in the tunnels, their faces flushed, and voices baying for blood as spells cut through the space.

Marvolo was in his element, chatting with guests and ensuring everyone had a full glass, his smile smug and cold. He couldn't help showing MC off to his fellow cohorts. His star duelist, who was currently sitting at the penultimate slot on the league table, and his future sister in law.

His eyes gleamed as he took her arm and presented her to those he was rubbing shoulders with. "This time next week, MC will be my champion," he boasted. He eyed them slyly. "You may want to start placing your bets now."

MC forced a smile onto her face, nodding and agreeing whilst knowing full well that those bets were pointless. This time next week, she would be long gone from here. The pretence was starting to make her jaw ache from forcing the smiles, and she was glad to be returned to Ominis and his much gentler touch and presence.

Ominis greeted the guests with handshakes and polite nods of his head, accepting their congratulations and introducing MC to these so-called family friends. She could see the strain around his eyes and mouth and held his arm tightly, hoping to ease his worries with quiet murmurs of support near his ear. It was the closest they had been to each other in days, and she felt the sting of sadness as she realised it would be the last time they would be together.

Mr and Mrs Gaunt looked almost regal in their fine robes, Mrs Gaunt wearing a glittering tiara in her hair and an elaborate locket around her neck with the Slytherin 'S' set into it. An heirloom by all accounts. MC found it rather over the top for her own taste and just smiled politely when it came time to shake hands and listen to their approval of the marriage.

Finally alone with Ominis, MC sighed and wished she could lean her head against him, a weariness washing over her, and she stroked a hand absently over her stomach. Ominis slipped his watch from his pocket and tapped the face with his wand, nodding. "It's just after 9," he said. "Two hours."

"Would you like to sit down and rest for a bit?" MC asked.

Ominis shook his head. "I'd rather not." He tilted his head, thinking. "Would you like to dance?"

MC looked up at him, her heart skipping a little beat. As tired as she felt, how could she say no to that? "I would love to."

Ominis led her out onto the dance floor with ease and took her in his arms, his hands placed respectably on her body as they began to sway to the sounds of the band. There were other couples dancing around them, but MC paid them no mind. She merely watched Ominis.

He was flawless, meeting each step and guiding her through the dance, his wand still in hand to aid him with both of their fingers entwined around it.

"I truly am sorry, Ominis. For everything that has happened," MC said quietly. "I never wanted to hurt you, and it pains me that I have. I know you may never forgive me, but just know, I wish you happiness."

"I just hope you find whatever it is that you are looking for," he replied. "Promise me you won't waste this chance, MC. Don't get caught up in darkness and end up trapped by someone else like Marvolo. Make the most of the fresh start to do something that fulfils you."

MC felt her throat tighten with emotion, his words ringing through her mind and coming up against the truth, the future that was growing inside her belly. It wasn't just herself she had to think of now. "I will do my best, Ominis," she said.

They twirled, the full skirt of her black gown flaring out. She squeezed his hand, her lips trembling a little. "I shall miss you," she said truthfully.

"Not now, MC," he whispered. "Not yet."

She swallowed back her tears and felt the gentle caress of his hand at her back.

"For now, we just dance," he said. "Goodbye comes later."

....*....

Two lackeys stood in the corridor near Marvolo's office, slouching and chatting, their eyes widening, and both of them straightening up as Sebastian strode towards them. Appearing as Marvolo, he kept his cold smirk in place and narrowed his eyes at them.

"Did Sallow drop the gold off this evening?" He asked icily.

The lackey that Sebastian had made sure to greet as himself earlier nodded. "Yes, sir. Saw him myself. He was here about 7, I reckon."

Sebastian gave a curt nod. "Good," he said. He ushered them both into the office and closed the door. The two lackeys gave each other curious looks as Marvolo/Sebastian moved to open the safe.

"I need you to do something for me," Sebastian said. He took out the bags of gold and started piling them on the desk. "I can't hang around, I need to get back to my brother's engagement party. So, I will get to the point. Go and track down those lackeys that are double agents, you know, Benny Cripps' little spies."

The lackey's looked at each other. "Whatcha want them for?"

Sebastian gave them his best stern glare. "I want you to kill them."

They both gaped, watching as Sebastian began to stuff all the gold into the enchanted pocket of his robe, making it obvious that he was taking it all, every last bag of Benny Cripps' money. He put his hand in and took out some coins, and handed them out to both lackeys. They took them uncertainly.

"Hunt those spies down and kill them," he ordered.

"But...er...won't that start a turf war, sir?" One of them asked nervously.

Sebastian smirked. "And?"

"Benny don't take no prisoners, Marvolo, you know that," the other one said.

"Neither do I," Sebastian said coldly. "Are you questioning your orders?"

Both lackeys immediately shook their heads. "No, sir, of course not. When do we do it?"

Sebastian tucked away the last of the gold and smiled. "Around 11pm should be about right. Oh, and don't mention this to Sallow. He is too loyal to Cripps. His card is marked lads, and he is mine for the taking. Understand?"

The lackeys both nod again, and Sebastian dismissed them. A quick glance at the clock told him he had an hour to change back into himself and then go and fetch Daisy.

With a turf war breaking out between Benny's gang and Marvolo's, that should keep them busy for a while. Sebastian patted his pocket smugly as he made his way back to the room where he had stashed his clothes. With this amount of gold, MC and Daisy would be able to start a proper new life with a bag for himself for his troubles. And with the seed planted that Marvolo was going to take him out, his disappearance would be assumed as him being dead. Sebastian almost chuckled to himself. Marvolo was obsessed with gold and power, and this would hit him right where it would hurt.

Those lackeys would blab about Marvolo stealing that gold. They were all two faced and out for themselves. Once Benny Cripps heard that Marvolo had swiped the gold and started taking out his spies, then there really would be trouble. Sebastian was glad he would be long gone by the time the proverbial hits the fan.

....*....

As the minutes ticked towards 11pm, Ominis felt his restlessness grow, his fingers fiddling with his wand. MC kept putting reassuring hands on him, but every one of her touches merely reminded him that she was going within the hour. He needed to hold it together.

Finally, he took her arm and led her out onto the paved terrace at the back of the hall, the night air chill on his face. "Time to go, MC," he said.

He had picked up the tones of sadness in her voice tonight, her soft words as they had danced making his heart ache. He would miss her too, terribly, but wasn't sure he could find the words to express it.

"Then let's go," she murmured. She held on tight to his arm and he could feel her trembling. He focused his mind, and with a crack, they vanished from the terrace.

....*....

The street was dark, the shadows long and smothered by swirling smog as Sebastian hurried along, Daisy clutching his hand. She was dressed in the most modest gown he had ever seen her in, her pretty little face void of excessive makeup, her hair neatly pinned. He had wrapped her in a dark cloak all the same, though, the fabric dragging along behind her small frame. He was worried she might trip and fall, and he kept a tight grip on her tiny hand.

He felt sick. His stomach was churning with nerves, but also, the transition back into himself had left him exhausted and drained. He'd had to take a minute, using one of Garreth's restoring potions to get him back on his feet.

Sebastian paused a moment, pulling Daisy into an alley to let them both catch their breaths. He pulled out his wand and muttered the locator charm. The deep tug pulled at him, and he closed his eyes, savouring the feel of it. MC was still wearing the necklace, and then, the tug shifted sharply, pulling in a different direction. He opened his eyes. Her and Ominis had left the party.

"We need to get moving," he whispered. "I can Apparate us. It will be faster."

Daisy grimaced. "I aint no good with that vanishing crap you lot pull. It makes me proper sick."

Sebastian smirked. "Yes, it's not the most pleasant feeling, but it gets you places fast. We need to get out of here, Daisy. MC is waiting for us."

Daisy looked up at him. "She loves you, you know," she said. "I hope you got a plan in that pretty head of yours for tracking us down after all this."

Sebastian lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "Can't bear the thought of not seeing me again, Daisy?" He teased.

She smirked and slapped his arm. "Just make sure you find us," she said. Her face grew serious. "MC is going to need you, whether she will admit it or not."

Sebastian frowned. "What do you mean?"

Daisy shook her head and took hold of his arm. "Never mind," she said quickly. "Come on then, handsome. Vanish us the fuck out of here before I change my mind."

....*....

The area of King's Cross in London was no longer the genteel and affluent area that it once was. The lovely houses there had made way for industry and the railway over recent decades, the industrial boom hitting the hardest on those who dwelled in the city.

Now, the area was factories and small dwellings for the workers of such industry, and for those who worked the railway. Amongst the few remaining larger houses was one of the last properties remaining to the Gaunt family in the city.

Ominis stood in the main living space, what little furniture remained draped in sheets, while MC changed out of her dress and into more comfortable travelling attire. He pulled his pocket watch out and tapped it with his wand. Ten minutes past the hour.

"Where the devil is Sebastian with Daisy?" He hissed. "It's taking too long."

He heard MC's sturdy boots as she stepped across the room. "I'm sure he will be here any moment," she assured. But he could hear the nerves in her voice. "I hope whatever he had planned to do hasn't gone wrong."

The whipping crack of someone Apparating in came from outside the door, and Ominis turned his head. "Maybe that's him," he said. He reached out to catch MC by the arm as she moved towards the door. "Check before you open it. Just in case."

Nerves were making his breath shake as MC stepped slowly towards the window. While this house was rarely used, Marvolo had eyes everywhere, and he didn't want to linger here too long. Sebastian would start the fake trail at King's Cross Station, while the girls would take the Floo to Southampton docks. Everything would be alright if they stuck to the plan, he assured himself.

MC confirmed it was indeed Sebastian and hurried to open the door. The clatter of feet signalled their arrival, and Ominis held up his wand, the shadowy outline of Sebastian and Daisy coming into the room.

"What took you so long?" He snipped.

"Sorry, that's my fault," Daisy said. "I ain't keen on that vanishing trick."

Ominis well remembered after their trip to his family home with her. He turned to Sebastian. "Well, did you pull off your secret deed?"

"It's all kicking off as we speak," Sebastian said. Ominis could hear the grin in his tone and frowned.

"What did you do?" MC asked.

Sebastian's shadow shifted and he began to pull something out of his robes. "Open up your bag, MC," he said. "I've got a gift for you."

MC and Daisy both gasped, and MC swore softly. "Are you crazy?" She hissed. Ominis heard the slap of an arm and Sebastian's grunt. "Marvolo is going to kill you!"

"What is it? What has he done?"

Ominis felt a wave of dread as Sebastian filled them in on his little trick. Marvolo was going to be incandescent with rage over this. Ominis put a hand to his forehead, exasperation at Sebastian's tendency for chaos making his head ache. "You do realise that I have to stay behind with my brother, don't you? Are you completely mad?"

Sebastian shifted closer, the familiar waft of cinnamon and citrus reaching his nose, and Sebastian took his hand, placing a heavy cloth bag into it.

"This bag is for you, old friend," Sebastian said. "You don't have to stay behind. Use it however you wish to, but I would rather you used it to get out of your family's clutches as well. You deserve happiness as much as MC does."

Ominis went rigid, stunned at this gesture. He should hate Sebastian for having such a hold on the heart of the woman he loved, for being nothing but an absolute pain in his neck, and for causing so much disruption and darkness. But it seemed he couldn't, because just when he thought he had washed his hands of Sebastian for good, he would pop up with this kind of gesture, with words that showed the love and generosity behind the chaos.

Ominis swallowed thickly and nodded, taking the bag of stolen gold from Sebastian. It felt heavy in his hands, and not just from the coin. "I will think on it," he said stiffly. "Thank you."

The sound of MC's tears reached his ears. A gentle hand touched his arm. "Do it, Ominis. Get away from them, live how you want to."

Tears burned the backs of his eyes. "We shouldn't linger. It's time, MC. You need to say your goodbyes."

He grunted as she threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. As much as he wished to hang on to his control, he couldn't, burying his face into her hair and holding her just as tightly. There were no words that could explain the ache in his chest, the pain of her leaving, and he just held her against him, savouring the softness and her scent.

As she pulled back from him she pressed the engagement ring into his hand. "Save this for someone worthy of you, Ominis," she whispered. "I mean it. I wish you happiness."

He opened his mouth to speak, to tell her that he doubted there could ever be anyone else, when the front door blasted inwards. Splinters of wood bounced around the room accompanied by Daisy's scream.

"Well isn't this a touching little scene," Marvolo said strolling in. "Hello, little brother."

....*....

They had been so close. Freedom was but one Floo trip away, but this bastard just couldn't leave them alone. MC felt fury twisting up her insides as she held her wand up towards Marvolo Gaunt, who stood there in his fine black robes, a cold smile on his handsome face.

Behind him stood one of his lackeys, a scruffy, thin faced rat of a man, who quickly darted forwards to grab hold of Daisy. Daisy whimpered, her eyes darting from Marvolo to MC as they faced each other down.

Slowly, Marvolo slipped out his own wand and held it up towards her. MC chuckled, the sound not humorous in the slightest. "Are you going to face me in a duel, Marvolo?" She taunted. She narrowed her eyes at him, hating him with everything she was. "I'll fucking kill you."

He shook his head, lips twisted in a mockery of a smile. His eyes darted to one side, where Sebastian was also standing with his wand held up. "Oh look, it's lover boy, coming to the defence of his little darling," Marvolo taunted. "I wouldn't. Do it, Ed, hurt her."

A scream sounded from behind MC, and she spun, eyes wide. The lackey had hit Daisy with a spell, not Crucio, but one that had her rigid and screaming. MC lifted her wand, but two things happened at once.

Marvolo cast towards a distracted Sebastian, who was flung backwards into the wall, thick coiling ropes that looked like snakes wrapping around him and binding him tightly, his body trapped against the faded wall. His wand clattered down onto the floor, and his face twisted with rage.

The second thing was a spell cast by Ominis, a strong stunning spell that hit the lackey in the face, sending him sprawling backwards over a sheet covered table. Daisy staggered and landed on the floor, sobbing. Ominis was with her in two strides, bending to help her up.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Ominis," Marvolo growled. "Why the fuck did you do that? She's nothing but a dirty, Muggle whore."

MC shook with fury and turned her wand back on Marvolo, casting a curse towards him that he blocked with surprising ease. He side stepped, assuming a duelling stance.

"I will fight if you want me to," he goaded. "But I am much more interested in finding out what is going on here. Ominis, dear brother, you purchased two tickets for a ship recently. The question is, who for? Which two of you four are making a run for it? Don't tell me it's the secret lovers? You wouldn't help them run, would you little brother?"

"Don't tell him anything," Sebastian said, struggling against his bindings.

Marvolo shot a basic cast Sebastian's way, making him grunt and go rigid. MC cast again, a Diffindo that Marvolo deflected, and it sent deep gashes through a settee in the far corner. He cast back towards MC, a flurry of spells lighting the space between them as they circled each other in the room.

"It's over Marvolo," MC said. "I'm done doing your bidding. My debt is paid."

He chuckled. "I dont think so."

MC cast again, dodging and blocking, surprised at how good he was. Then he shot another cheap cast towards Sebastian, and this time, he screamed. MC flinched, distracted, and then she was hit, thrown backwards onto the floor with a thud and a roll.

Daisy shouted, tearing herself from Ominis' grip where he had been holding her at the far side of the room. She hurried towards MC. "No, stop!" She cried. "The baby!"

MC froze, her eyes flying up to Daisy in shock. The room fell silent, the laboured breaths coming from her own mouth sounding far too loud to her own ears. Daisy cringed, her eyes full of apology. MC knew why she had done it. Daisy was protective of the baby, determined that it would get a good life with people who loved it, her own loss a hole that would never be filled.

But she had just announced it to the three men MC had been desperate to keep it from.

"What baby?" Marvolo demanded coldly.

MC couldn't move, half sitting up, leaning on her hands, her gaze flying to Ominis who was holding his wand up towards her, face utterly pale. Her eyes then turned to Sebastian, who was staring at her, eyes wide.

Daisy glared up at Marvolo, her eyes blazing with hatred. "She's pregnant," she snapped.

Marvolo stared at Ominis. "Is this true, Ominis? You told me you were on a potion."

MC felt tears slipping from her eyes as she looked at Ominis. He was shaking his head, his brow furrowed. "I...I do take a potion," he said. His voice was strained. "I never stopped taking it."

"I'm sorry," MC whispered.

Daisy got up and stood in front of her, hands on her hips. "No, you don't apologise, MC," she said firmly. "Not for this."

Marvolo turned his furious gaze towards Sebastian, who had gone limp, staring at MC in disbelief. She met his gaze, begging with her eyes for him to understand.

"You!!!" Marvolo yelled. "You did this!"

Marvolo lifted his wand, the curse bellowed from his lips with wicked intent. "Crucio!"

Both MC and Daisy screamed, MC scrambling up to her feet, grabbing for her wand. But Daisy, brave, selfless Daisy. She jumped forward and placed herself between Sebastian and Marvolo.

"No!" MC screamed.

The curse hit Daisy full pelt in the chest, the blinding red light filling the room along with the ear shattering sound of her scream.

MC stood frozen, transfixed, as Daisy convulsed under the blast of that curse. Her eyes were rolling back as that horrifying scream split the air. MC was taken back to the night when Marvolo had taken her, and they had witnessed Marvolo torturing his lackey. She was sent back even further to a darkened chamber below Hogwarts, and Sebastian casting the very same curse on her to get them out.

"No," MC said. She shook her head in denial at what she was witnessing. Daisy was not magical, she had no strength for this, it was too much and Marvolo's intent was vicious. MC shouted louder.

Of course nobody could hear her. Sebastian was shouting, Ominis was shouting, and Daisy kept on screaming, even as the blood began to trickle from her mouth as she collapsed to the floor.

It was a matter of seconds but they seemed to stretch and stretch until time had no meaning.

Marvolo released the curse, breathing hard, and MC moved to aim, murder in her heart. Her ancient magic began to surge and flicker. She vaguely heard Ominis calling her name, but it faded out into the background. She would tell him she was sorry, but she wouldn't mean it. Marvolo needed to die.

But she wasn't quick enough. Marvolo uttered the devastating words in a cold, calm voice, and a flash of green filled the room.

"Avada Kedavra."

Daisy was silenced. Her body went still, no more convulsions as she lay there, staring at nothing.

A blast of red shot past MC's shoulder and hit Marvolo, a swift Bombarda that sent him slamming into the wall with a sickening crack. He slid to the floor in a heap, and MC could still hear Daisy's scream ringing in her ears despite the quietness that now filled the room.

....*....

Sebastian stopped fighting against the bonds, shock filling him. How had this all gone so terribly wrong? He stared down at Daisy's lifeless body, the green light, and the muttered curse, triggering dangerous flashbacks from that night in the catacombs all those years ago.

Sweat beaded on his brow as his chest tightened and fluttered with panic, a roaring sound in his ears, and he fought to get air in his lungs. Memories swamped over him, and he fought back the vomit that was threatening to push up his throat. He looked up at the ceiling, his eyes registering the cracks in the plaster, but his mind was reeling as he tried to get a hold of himself.

He heard Ominis speaking, the familiar voice grounding him a little as he sucked in deep breaths.

"No, no," MC muttered. "Not Daisy. No!"

Sebastian looked back into the room, his eyes focusing on MC as she dropped to her knees before Daisy. She reached out a hand that shook, and she carefully brushed strands of hair from Daisy's white face. Trickles of blood ran from Daisy's mouth and nose, her eyes were red too, and Sebastian was sure that the killing curse had been a mercy.

Daisy was a Muggle. She was small, and she would have had no chance against the violence with which Marvolo had cast that curse. Her insides were probably ruined, and that alone would have given her a slow, painful death.

A death that had been meant for him.

His chest tightened even more at the look of horror and denial on MC's face. The pain in her eyes was shattering. Daisy had died trying to protect him. He felt tears well up and he blinked them furiously back.

MC began to moan, a distressed sound that turned into shaking sobs, her hands pressed to her face as she rocked with her grief. Ominis winced and moved towards her, his hands hovering as though to hold her, but he pulled back. Sebastian cleared his throat, his own arms aching to hold MC.

"Ominis," he croaked. "Get me down."

Ominis turned, wand out. He hovered it over where Sebastian stood and then muttered a few words, a charm spiralling out from his wand that released Sebastian's bonds. Sebastian shook himself and bent to snatch up his own wand, the sound of MC's crying filling the room.

Sebastian stared at Marvolo on the floor, a cold fury gathering in his stomach. His fingers flexed around the handle of his wand as he ran through a myriad of black curses in his mind. He could make that man suffer, make him wish he had never laid eyes on Sebastian or MC.

"You need to leave," Ominis said. He grabbed hold of Sebastian's arm. "Get her out of here, now."

Sebastian gave him a dazed look and pushed his fingers through his hair. His dark thoughts slunk back into the corner of his mind, and he turned to gaze at MC. "Give her a minute," he muttered.

MC was bent over, her arms wrapped around Daisy's limp form, sobbing. He swallowed thickly, his thoughts returning to the day when he heard that Anne had died.

So much death.

"We may not have many minutes to spare," Ominis said. "Marvolo could come round any moment, and who's to say he hadn't sent for back up that could arrive without warning."

Ominis had a point. Sebastian tried to focus and looked up at Ominis. "Where shall I take her?"

Ominis shoved his hand into his robes and pulled out an envelope. He held it out, and Sebastian took it. "Two tickets to America, the ship sails tomorrow from Southampton. Go with MC, take her away from here and...please, look after her. Take care of her and your baby."

Sebastian gulped, his eyes flying back towards MC. Bloody hell, yes, the baby!

"I had no idea," he said shaking his head. "She didn't say a word."

"That doesn't matter now. All that matters is that you both are leaving here, now!"

Sebastian shoved the envelope in his pocket and moved towards MC. He put his hand on her shoulder. "MC, we have to go," he said gently.

She shook her head. "I can't leave her," she gasped.

Ominis bent down to her and reached out, his hands gentle as they sought out her face. He cupped it, his thumbs brushing away her tears with tender strokes. "Listen to me, MC," he said. "You and Sebastian must go. I will take care of Daisy. I will see to it that she is properly buried and cared for. But, you need to run as planned. Sebastian will go with you."

She gulped looking up at him, and Sebastian fought back more tears at the look on her face. "But the false trail..."

"I will cover your tracks." Ominis winced. "Something I should have offered to do all along, I suppose, but it matters not. Go and live, MC. You and Sebastian. Promise me."

She nodded. "I promise."

"Good girl," Ominis said.

Sebastian and Ominis stood. MC pressed a kiss to Daisy's head, laying her carefully down on the floor, and then stood with them. Ominis pressed her into Sebastian's arms. "Go," he insisted.

Sebastian held MC close and felt his stomach twist with loss as he gazed at his old friend. Once they had left, he would be all alone and facing the wrath of Marvolo. He reached out, grabbing Ominis by the shoulder. "Come with us," he blurted.

He had no idea where this was coming from, and it sounded crazy to his own ears. Ominis gaped and then pulled back shaking his head.

"No, I shall stay. I will cover your tracks and see to Daisy," he said. Then he hesitated. "Perhaps send word once you are safe. But don't put names on it. I would like to know you are alright."

Sebastian frowned, his gaze dropping to Marvolo on the floor. "What about your brother?"

"Let me worry about that," Ominis said. "You two worry about getting to safety. I...I shall bid you farewell."

MC gripped the front of Sebastian's robes, her head leaning against his chest, eyes shining with tears as she looked at Ominis. Sebastian held her tightly.

"Goodbye, Ominis," she whispered.

Sebastian took a breath and gave Ominis one last long look. "Goodbye, old friend."

Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut, thought of the nearest Floo point, and Disapparated.

....*....

After the crack of Disapparation, Ominis released the breath he had been holding, and allowed a moment of silence to fill him up.

They were gone. Sebastian and MC were gone.

He fought back the wave of sadness and grit his teeth. There was still work to do.

Lifting his wand, he scanned the room in search of his evil brother and spotted him laying on the floor. He stepped a little closer and lowered his wand down towards Marvolo's head.

As a boy he had been forced to perform terrible acts to prove his worth to the family. This brother had coaxed him, bullied him, tortured him and belittled him his whole life. There was no love lost between them, and yet as Ominis stood there wand out, he still could not bring himself to destroy Marvolo.

This man had committed heinous acts, had hurt those that Ominis cared for, and murdered that poor girl in cold blood right before them. Marvolo knew about the baby. He knew Sebastian and M were running, and once he found out that the gold was all gone, his rage would explode.

Marvolo must never remember what occurred in this room. Needs must. Ominis focused his mind and aimed with purpose. "Obliviate!"

He then turned to repair the room, ridding it of evidence of them being there, before pausing by poor Daisy.

The bravery of this Muggle girl amazed him. To stand before Marvolo like that and then jump in front of the curse was beyond pure nerve. It was love. Pure and simple.

Ominis now needed to repay that sacrifice, and he knew just how to do it. He bent to scoop Daisy up into his arms, such a tiny thing she was, a tiny thing with a big heart.

....*....

The ocean breeze tugged at her braided hair, and she lifted her face to feel the little sprinkles of salty sea spray on her cheeks. The sky above was purest blue, no smog, and no city filth clinging to her skin. Just fresh sea air, the constant thrum of the ships' huge engines below their feet, and a strong chest at her back.

MC leant her head back against Sebastian, her hand sliding along his arm to press against the back of his hand that was settled firmly over her stomach. Less than a few hours had passed before his natural protectiveness had extended to the life growing inside of her. If he was near her, and to be honest, he hadn't left her side, his hand was on her stomach. After the initial shock, Sebastian was already in love with his child.

MC felt safe. But her heart ached for Daisy. The loss of her was a hollow cavern in her chest that kept threatening to consume her. She could only hope and trust that Ominis was alright and had taken care of things back in London.

They had been at sea for four days now. It wouldn't be long before they docked in New York. Nerves fluttered in her belly, and she held Sebastian a little tighter. He kissed her temple and leant his head against hers, his hand caressing her stomach.

"We will be alright, I promise," he murmured.

MC nodded and turned to look up at him. The ocean breeze tugged at his unruly brown hair, and the sunlight had brought out the freckles across his nose. His face was harder these days, leaner, but she could still see glimpses of the boy behind the shadows in his eyes. They both carried shadows and dark burdens, but when she was with him, they didn't seem so heavy.

She smoothed her hands up his chest, sliding them around his neck before pressing a kiss to his mouth. "I'm glad I have you with me," she said softly.

Sebastian smirked, his fingers brushing against the silver heart charm on the necklace he had given her. "It was never in doubt," he said. "I promised I wouldn't let you slip away from me, MC, and I intend to keep that promise."

Hope flared in her heart, a flicker of flame that she dared to cherish. "Forever?"

Sebastian's smile was soft. "Forever."

This isn't quite over yet!! One more chapter to come 😁💜 To be continued...

[lotrmusical]

here it is: the Big Wheel of Things People Love About Watermill Lord of the Rings!

spin here

optional: use what you get as a creative prompt for fanworks to celebrate the anniversary of the production! (full info here)

a couple stats from sorting the responses, just for fun:

louis/frodo is the most commonly mentioned, followed by nuwan/sam, aaron/aragorn and folarin/gimli.

a full 10% of responses mention the characters' physical affection: hugging, holding, reaching for each other, etc. this is truly the world's claspiest musical

louis and nuwan are tied for the most quoted line deliveries, followed by tom

everyone really loves the ent noises and falling leaves in the fangorn scene. (5 separate mentions)

full list of responses & credit below the cut 🍃

@cicelythereaper:

The Ents being represented by the sound of wood striking wood in the walls

The actor-musician setup - the way everyone is musical and telling a story!

Galadriel standing within her giant wreath - which turns into a sort of Ring of fire when she's considering going darkside

The choreography of Flight to the Ford

Frodo and Gollum's parallel body language

Folarin's performance in Moria

Saruman. Everything about Saruman

Aragorn's habit of clasping people's heads

@mischieffoal:

Matt Bugg's Gollum thirst traps

Lobelia

Evil flute magic

I want the ring/risk to be mine alone

Day May End

The breath like choreo at the first "lorien laure"

clutching our heads in his hands

Mrs. Bracegirdle

Samfrosie 5ever

GIRL PIPPIN

"our lives are woven together yours and mine"

aoife's voice

sioned's extremely eldritch elf queen

brown sam and black rosie!!!!!

yazdan's just really hot

extreme divorced energy saruman/gandalf

that bit in the council of elrond where Legolas speaks just as the turntable has put him directly facing the audience

Boromir's death and wake

Boromir's ghost/Faramir

Aragorn/Arwen, they do it SO WELL

@nowandforalways:

The new arrangement on specifically Frodo's verse of Now And For Always

"SAM LOVES ROSIE SAM LOVES ROSIE"

The way that PDukes says the words "a far, green country"

Frodo constantly slinging his arm around Sam's shoulders

Plum cake

Bilbo kissing Frodo's hands

Ensemble hobbits reaching their hands out to Frodo when Sam helps him up before Wonder

Hobbit hug after Gandalf falls in Moria

"Heyday" stupid-foot-tap-jump-thing

The change in Gollum's voice after Frodo calls him "Smeagol"

Sparkly elven cloaks

The way Arwen holds her arms

Stab Wound Continuity™️

Shelob puppet

PDukes standing behind Theodenothor looking so SAD

Arwen & Aragorn's matching arm movements during Lasto i lamath

The "beat drop" in Lothlorien (when they start singing in Quenya lol)

"Master Elrond, WHY there is a dwarf here I do NOT know"

The lighting during Song of Hope (reprise)

The Black Speech being projected on the back wall when Gandalf takes it out of the fire in Bag End

Frodo mostly hanging back at his own birthday party and then immediately getting SO INTO IT when the dancing starts

Frodo fully forgetting his pack at the start of The Road Goes On and Sam grabbing it for him

Louis' voice

Frodo directing the other hobbits and encouraging the Breelanders during The Cat And The Moon

The red waistcoat with Louis' dark hair and eyes

How physically affectionate Frodo is with the people he loves

TIRED AND COLD

Frodo grabbing Smeagol's arm to counter-balance as Smeagol falls into Mount Doom

Louis being the resident freak in all of the cast interviews

Frodo being on the lower harmony for the first time in the whole show when he joins Sam singing at the Gray Havens

@eelfleece:

BIG! SPIDER! PUPPET!

little small leaves floating down in the ent scene and the soft Boom Boom accompanying them

anonymous:

It drove my sibling's wife insane for several months. Sometimes the most important thing about a production is how much it means to people you care about.

the actor-musicianship

the intimacy of the theatre

the cast themselves

the strong south-asian inspiration in the music and choreo

It felt like such a genuine production. No big stage or huge light shows, just actors having fun and delivering one hell of a performance. The smaller venue helped with that a lot

The pre show where Bilbo walked among the crowd greeting people and chatting with them as if they too were hobbits.

I walked from Newbury station to the theatre so getting there and seeing that the outside of the theatre was decorated as well was such a good way to arrive there after an hour of walking

All of the actors being the ones who play pretty much all of the music as well made me have so much more respect for the amazing cast

The parts where actors played outside of the stage like gollum climbing the decor or Aragorn (I think) suddenly being on the balcony.

The leaves falling when the ents are in the scene made it so much more immersive

The costumes made for the production were amazing. Each one suited the character well

I saw the actress who played pippin smiling throughout the entire show. She was having genuine fun and that made it so much more authentic to me

I am Astonished that they managed to fit all the three books into one musical.

I just really hope this musical will someday return to the watermill theatre as it was the best performance I have ever seen. Nothing will top this

the way louis maskell says "mr gandalf - please" with a laugh in his voice as he kneels next to sam to "protect" him from being turned into anything unnatural

the final show where sam scurried behind frodo during "don't let him turn me into anything… UNNATURAL" so frodo just knelt with his hands out in front of him like "Mr Gandalf… please"

Legolas! and! Gimli! forehead! touch! and! head! clasp! during wonder after talking about seeing the caves and the forests together

Louis Maskell's wiggles

Yazdan's northern accent for Legolas

the Look TM and intonation on Frodo's "…goodbye, Sam" before they do the foot tapping as Sam heads off to the Ivy Bush with Rosie

looks like /you've/ got ALL the company you need

oh yes! lots of FRUIT around here

Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli doing different rituals whilst kneeling over Boromir's body

Aarongorn's ritual gesture - hand to head, chest and lips

boromir: 'and defeated him!!' elrond: '…...yes. 🙄'

'don't adventures ever have an end?' bilbo's heartbreaking tone

circle of light holding gandalf captive in isengard

the pattern from the moria doors also used on gimli's costumes

NAZGUL PUPPETS. horse skull my beloved

the blue cloths rippling down from the ceiling for flight to the ford

amelia's high harmony in road goes on

council of elrond turntable and curved benches blocking that effortlessly puts everyone where they need to be to keep the scene moving, clear, dynamic

'go forth in hope that the small may succeed where the great could not' tom's tone and gentleness with frodo making me cry every time

STAR OF EARENDIL A CAPPELLA MOMENT. CHILLS FOREVER

all the times merry, pippin and sam support frodo and help him along, emotionally and physically

EVERYONE MIRRORING SAM AND REACHING OUT THEIR HANDS TO FRODO BEFORE WONDER

nuwan's beautiful floral guitar strap

sioned's galadriel becoming increasingly terrifying, her distant gaze and lilting intonation

matt bugg gollum upside down moments

the audience helping to rebuild the shire for the epilogue

the big white sail for frodo to exit behind one final time, and his last look back as he goes

all the people playing instruments but ESPECIALLY elliot getting so so energetic and hype during song of hope reprise

'w-w-what she means is… how about a song?' and the other hobbits immediately dying inside

FOLARIN'S LAMENT FOR MORIA and his bowing to the surroundings before he starts and the depth and reverence and awe he brings!!

CHARLOTTE GRAYSON ROSIE 'i've been expecting you since the spring!!' making me cry every time

aarongorn's gentleness and reluctance to come out, and the way he sits during the council trying to fade into the background while everyone's talking about the lost sword

bridget and reece's cartwheel/lift choreo in cat and the moon!

the lights in the big tree by the outside stage

'that's often how it is in a forest, pip' geraint's hilarious delivery, and him and amelia clearly having the MOST fun together

The ensemble acting as an extension of Sam! He represents the people ✊

The way Aragorn falls to his knees after Song of Hope (Duet)

The nazgul lighting

Incorporating the environmentalist message from the book with the wildflower packets, the orcs' industrial look, and the emphasis on rebuilding at the end

The ensemble narration :)

The sense of loss that clouds the production, as it tells of the end of an era and doesn't quite finish where it started (same place but so much is missing) (again with the rebuilding theme)

Rosie Cotton

Creative use of the physical space in the house!

The ents being represented by Noises

Being a major adaptation willing to mess around with gender! I hope this starts a trend of more genderfuckery in Tolkien adaptations

the detail of the set and costume design!! e.g the pattern on gimli's costume matching the moria floor pattern

Folarin's Lament for Moria - absolutely incredible voice, was swept away

The hobbits hurriedly putting their waistcoats on and rolling up their shirtsleeves as they transition from Mount Doom to Gondor

Yazdan's wide eyed wonder and smile as he sings Lorien

Sam's quiet, muttered "no Frodo" when Frodo says "goodbye Sam" during the final (I love to have my heart smashed into a thousand pieces)

Charlotte as Rosie - so joyful and sweet and strong and A++++ fiddling

whoever's job it was to stick their hand through a hole in the ceiling and drop leaves one by one while the ents were talking

Nuwan's Sam and Louis' Frodo, how tender and in love they were

HANDS

Tiny weirdo powerhouse Georgia Louise Galadriel!! Best Galadriel performance ever.

Boromir and Sioned-Elf’s mesmerising interaction at Lothlorien

Legolas and Gimli's arm clasp / forehead touch during Wonder

Bilbo’s birthday party in the garden and getting to wish him a happy birthday

Frodo’s expression when Elrond gives him his blessing

Elf hand choreography and hand speak!!

Literally everything about Nuwan and Louis in Now and for Always

Sassy Elrond/Saruman

Aaron’s soft boi Aragorn. I stan a gentle king.

Nuwan's Sam being decisive and protective with Frodo and taking no sh*it. "Lots of fruit around here!" comes to mind.

[okaioh]

Kai I need Phil content to make up for the fact he didn’t get kidnapped brutally by the Ender King, do you have any good headcanons of Death Family + Rose

ough there's too many but lemme see what I can cook up

(putting it under the cut because its kinda long LMAO)

whenever in Rose's garden the hummingbirds always flock to Chayanne - and maybe its because of the ingredients he has in his backpacks or maybe its because he's always carrying a rose that Tallulah has given him, I like to think its because hummingbirds symbolize devotion and love - who else is devoted to protecting his family and who else shows constant love to his sister and dad like Chayanne <3

Another one about Chayanne, which is kinda based around this one post I saw (by panxramic on twt), but theres something about Rose's sanctuary in which the little warrior feels absolute calm and peace - something that he doesn't get often, and because of that peace he finds himself regularly taking naps around the place

^^there'll be times where Phil's sleeping and Tallulah and Chay were hanging out and at one point Tallulah's like ?? where did Chayanne go ?? and she looks all over the place for him, a bit panicked at first, until she goes to the Sanctuary and finds him laying in a patch of grass - snoring softly with a bunch of hummingbirds flying around him (she totally takes a picture of him and uses it as a way to tease him relentlessly)

the first few nights of sleeping at the Sanctuary, Tallulah found herself waking up to flowers in her hair - at first she's like "weird it must have fallen onto my head or something" but then it keeps happening every morning she wakes up

it'll be different flowers in her hair every morning - at first its roses (without the stem and thorns of course) nestled in her hair, then tulip petals, then cherry blossom petals and so on, its just a little thing to show that Rose is constantly watching over them even if she doesn't send any messages

Tallulah also discovered that when she plays music in the sanctuary, a bunch of birds always appear and start singing along with her - some will sit on top of her head and chirp along with her flute and theres some that'll hop in front of her almost on beat with her music

Phil has never slept better than the first nights when he slept with his kids in the sanctuary

there's something that just lets him know that nothing can come and hurt them with Rose watching over them

I like to think that phil's an early riser so to his kids its very rare that they actually wake up before him since he's already up and tending to the farms and everything

so the first few mornings in Rose's sanctuary, tallulah and chayanne got scared thinking their dad was sick because he slept in all morning till the afternoon - phil even thought he was coming down with something until he realized he's never felt more awake than when he did, and thats when his kids noticed how bright his eyes looked and how his eye bags seemed to be almost gone after a couple days

Missa is rarely on (except today) but that doesn't exclude him from Rose's protection - right as he comes back he can feel this sort of warm presence with him and I feel like at first he'll be like ":0 its phil's love for me-" something cheesy or whatever

and then he starts to notice little things whenever he does something - let's say hes building and he isn't paying attention to his surroundings and there's a skeleton about to shoot him, and without him even noticing it - it suddenly burns up and disintegrates into dust just like that

and ofc Missa carries on like nothing happened - and theres instances just like that that always happens when he doesn't notice... if he's about to walk off a cliff and hurt himself- nope, there's water at the bottom now and hes safe. If there's a mob coming at him and about to kill him- nope, it somehow gets trapped in a hole and Missa carries on his day freely

I would add more for Missa but i don't know what to add ueueue

but yeah :D add more if you want LMAO these are some of what I've come up with

[janaknandini-singh999]

Manmeet headcanons coz yes

( @ezs-diary thanks to you now I can't stop thinking about Girl Krishna™ trope)

She's a punjabi kudi who's literally Geet's twin (OFC?) and has all the iconic romcom movies and dialogues memorized. Despite her bubbly, chaotic side she has a strange calming charm to her when she doesn't even need her sweet honey words to draw people in. Og srk fangirl, loves all genres of music, especially upbeat and lyricals, adores animals, fav season: spring.

Radhya: likes ghazals, lofi music, meera ke bhajan, secretly watches romantic movies (especially tragedies) and cries in her room, Manmeet finds her and Radhya would expect that she'd laugh at her but she'd just kiss her tears away, Radhya would push her away at that but secretly blush so hard, she lives in Manmeet's colony who secretly follows her everywhere, especially on shopping (even for the grocery) "WHAT are YOU doing here?" Radhya takes her to the side on the street, whispering urgently.

"Wouldn't you like me by your side always? Am I not good company?? :(" Manmeet with puppy eyes and sniffs "Ok.. if you don't want me then I will go-"

Radhya catches her wrist, looks away, then at her and sighs "It's- it's not that. It's just-"

Manmeet smiles, twisting her trapped wrist softly and wrapping its fingers around Radhya's and asks in the most innocent voice "Then what is it? Just say it hehe!"

Radhya groans, looks away and scratches her neck "Fine, you're fine."

Manmeet blinks her eyes "I couldn't hear that.. what?"

"I DO LIKE YOU."

Manmeet jumps and shrieks. Radhya going red and holding her down "Shh, what ARE YOU DOING NOW? Everyone will look at you, fool."

"LET THEM! LET THE WORLD KNOW YOU LOVE ME WOOHOOO!," Manmeet gets out of her hold "I am a fool but I'm a fool for YOUUU."

Radhya facepalms, secretly smiling.

At night, Manmeet slips by to kiss her goodnight and Radhya would be tired. She yawns and Manmeet grins "Long day?", coming to her while rubbing something in her palms "Champi time!"

Radhya would get her head and shoulder massaged and yawn again.

"You should sleep."

"Yes, I'm exhausted but I'm unable to fall asleep for some reason." Radhya grumbles and then looks over at Manmeet, smiling faintly "Kuch sunaa do?"

Manmeet beams "KYU NAHI-" clearing her throat. Suddenly, Radhya would settle herself on Manmeet's lap and close her eyes - making Manmeet blush this time before continuing. She'd hum at first building a light, dreamy tune and it'd take everything for Radhya not to dance even though the rhythm was so slow so she'd instead tap her fingers against Manmeet's thighs along with the tune, making Manmeet's breath catch and making it difficult to even begin singing now so she'd take out her flute and start playing it. Within a minute, Radhya stills into a rhythmic composure, her head buried deep and face completely hidden away in Manmeet's lap, snoring lightly. Manmeet smiles at that and kisses her forehead, pulling up the blankets on her and turning off the lights

With Vaidarbhi: loves art and poetry, analyzes controversial cinema and drama and is a sucker for old school romance, comfort movie is Shahid and Amrita's Vivah, writes secret love letters to Manmeet but delivers it herself by saying

"My brother sent this for you."

Manmeet smiles, nodding and opening it "I confess I do have an effect on people but I'm not sure your brother is one of them."

Vaidarbhi nods back, looking at the ground, turning around to leave.

"Vaidu!" Manmeet calls out

Vaidarbhi's heart skips a beat as she turns around in an instant

"Just wanna say that.. never be afraid of anything, sweetheart. I'm always with you." Manmeet winks

On the day she was getting forcibly married, her heart echoed back these words of the love of her life to her and she wrote a final love letter, revealing her true identity at last.

On the mandap just as she was taking the last phera, someone whistles loudly and calles out her name. Vaidarbhi immediately recognizes the voice and makes a run for it. Suddenly, the groom stands up and horror etches itself on Vaidarbhi. But he tears down his disguise to reveal Halveer, Manmeet's brother. "GO! I'LL TAKE CARE OF THEM." as he plunges into the crowd going wild around them.

Manmeet revs the engine of her bike as Vaidarbhi jumps on the seat behind her, crying happily and clutching her waist tightly from behind.

With Parth: he loves sports, Shreya Ghoshal and old Bollywood, meets with Manmeet regularly in the gym.

"Nice to see you here! But Mann.. you don't gym?" Parth shakes his head, his hair wet with sweat swaying in the process

"I come here for you, handsome." Manmeet whispers in his ears and giggles, knocking Parth out of his senses and freezing him as usual.

She pulls his cheeks aggressively and tightens her grip on his shoulder, trickling her hand downwards and squeezing his biceps. "Do pushups."

Parth is merely able to nod and takes his position. Suddenly, Manmeet jumps on him, almost breaking his bone.

"AAAOOOWW" he screams

"Now do it!" Manmeet says as if nothing happened

Parth smiles, suddenly forgetting all about his pain and does as he's ordered. He starts off and keeps on doing it on super speed like a machine. After dizziness strikes through, Manmeet steps up wobbling and smiles nervously, patting his head "Good boy!"

[kiawren]

For the ask game 💜

💜/Purple:

What would your f/o do if you got into a argument? Would they eventually apologize?💙/Blue:

Your f/o is having a bad day.. How do you cheer them up? (+ Reversed for the other way around !)

🧡/Orange:

You and your f/o are going on a roadtrip! Along the way you stop at some corny tourist traps. How does it go?

Hi Opheliaaaaa :):) :)

I answered purple here😁😁💜💜💜

💙/Blue: Your f/o is having a bad day.. How do you cheer them up? (+ Reversed for the other way around !)

If kiawe's had a bad day he's probably stressed about his dream of studying dance abroad, like the finances and whether he will get accepted or he's worried and unsure about the future, like should he even be pursuing this? I don't think he'll feel negatively when he's tired, cuz it means he trained hard that day and he'd feel rewarded. But him being worried about his future is mentioned when I answered 💜 and also is actually shown in the game where he gets laid off from his part time job that helped him save up to study abroad and he requests for MC to battle him cuz he says "I don't feel like dancing by myself right now..." and "it seems like nothing ever goes right..."

AND I FEEL SO 😭😭😭😭 CRAZY THING IS HE HAS TO GIVE YOU MONEY AFTER YOU BEAT HIM IN BATTLE CUZ THAT'S HOW THE GAME WORKS (AND OTHER NPCS COMPLAIN LIKE NOO MY POCKET MONEY.. SO IT'S AN ACTUAL THING THEYRE AWARE THEY HAVE TO PAY YOU).. LIKE WUAUWHHGRHG...IM Crying. . Anyway yeah so wren cheers him up by offering to battle him, or dance with him. Cuz I guess wren has tried to learn the basics of fire dancing, so either they do basic moves together or Kiawe continues teaching him. If wren feels like Kiawe really isn't up for doing this stuff though and he just wants to rest, he's really great at just offering a listening ear and advice if he wants. And a hug 🥺....

But yeah wren will just start saying all the things that makes them believe Kiawe will make it and why he's awesome and why they love him and why they wholeheartedly think he'd definitely reach his dreams, and it's okay if he feels like he won't but they can face it together and wren will always be with him to see it realised or overcome the challenges together 😊

And of course Kiawe will feel like he's burdening them by needing some comfort or assurance and wren is always saying it literallt does not bother him like at all not even a little bit and he can always seek comfort in them... Sorry I'm looking through my recordings of the battle with him and I'm his words are so heartbreaking 😭

LIKE WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE SINGLE 'SORRY' AS THE ONLY WORD ON THE TEXT BOX LIKE HES SO GUILTY ABOUT IT LIKE KIAWE SHIT THE FUCK UP. SHUT UP 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 IM SO HEARTBROKEMR I FORGOT HE JUST STRAIGHT UP SAUD "Sorry." STOP IY

Wow this next question looks fun and cute and wholesome and happy

🧡/Orange: You and your f/o are going on a roadtrip! Along the way you stop at some corny tourist traps. How does it go?

OH ABSOLUTELY ALOLA HAS LOTS OF TOURIST TRAPS LOLLLL honestly i can't think of specific ones but it's literallt pokemon hawaii so of course. Well if it's akala island kiawe would know some better places around the area with less people we coukd watch them from. Like at Royal avenue and the battle royale probbaly there's lots of tourists there. Maybe they'd be like Buy this Legit mask and Legit Pokeball the Masked Royal owned 😆

But I think primarily it's melemele island? Like the shopping district at the beachfront has prices so marked up.... So it's fun to pass by but not buy anything and maybe make fun of the tourists getting mid food when mallow cooks the same food but nicer and much more affordable at her locally owned family restaurant on akala.

Also some of the tourist traps would probbaly be like Check out this REAL scale that tapu lele dropped which is SO rare And it's like a piece of Plastic or like. This Genuine Flute that when you play it tapu koko will come But like not now you have to silence your surroundings and your heart yeah. And it's hilarious. I think the tapus are not fond of tourists especially tapu bulu he probably trashes their hotel room idk how but yeah

Kiawren generally just doesn't go to these places, but yeha it would be really fun to observe.

Wait i forgor to answer for the reverse part of the Blue question. I guess spending any time at all with Kiawe is my comfort, especially distracting myself by watching him train or talk about his day or his pokemon or alola or his culture I mean selfshipping is already what gets me through bad days so it literally means anything he does will be a comfort for me so yeah. He honestly doesn't need to do anything just breathe and smile

[twistedsoulmusic]

Although it’s no longer a surprise, we can’t help but be impressed that the array of sounds coming from our speakers is the work of one man. Whether it’s the soulful notes of a saxophone, the enchanting melody of a flute, the mighty blare of a trumpet, the harmonious chords from keys, or the rhythmic beats of drums – every sound is birthed from the prodigious hands of Gustav Horneij. It’s a superb album that subtly changes the OPE recipe, but the music remains deep with a touch of the spiritual, never falling into the trap of excessive noodling.

[thesinglesjukebox]

LE SSERAFIM - "EASY"

Maybe enable Hard Mode next time...?

[5.83]

TA Inskeep: A snap music breakdown and a mightily bass-heavy track are two things I didn't expect from one of K-pop's hottest girl groups; LE SSERAFIM really are making it look easy here (sorry). "Easy" just glides along, so smooth. [7]

Kayla Beardslee: For a song about making it look easy, there isn’t much about the topline of this song that sounds like it requires work in the first place. LE SSERAFIM are at their best when they’re going hard over a beat that requires the utmost commitment, but this is just a bland rip of dated hip-hop trends with a recorder loop that makes me want to scratch my ears out. RIP fall 2022 TSJ, you would have loved “Antifragile.” [3]

Leah Isobel: "Easy" doesn't feel quite so resolutely its own thing the way that "Antifragile" and "Eve, Psyche, and the Bluebeard's Wife" did; it's basically a Tinashe song. I love Tinashe! [7]

Michael Hong: On "Good Bones," another of the group's fascinating intros, that final line sounds earned: "easy, crazy, hot, I can make it." Maybe it's not really, maybe these words they spit and scream are profound only to themselves, better answered with a shrug and a "well, yeah." But as they motor through the amped-up instrumental, they sell it: "in the end, we all die / half of our life will be suffering," Kazuha mutters. The drums are aching and the guitar roars back at her, but it's this bite that makes it so fascinating, the hint of weakness and vulnerability that makes the group's confidence act feel appropriate. On "Easy," LE SSERAFIM's rough edges are sanded down as they huff and puff over the dry instrumental, the titular word wheezed out with the autotuned-backing sounding like a necessary support. The anxious rush that made "Good Bones" feel so astounding is absent as LE SSERAFIM sound like dolls here, their confidence a blankly feigned act. [2]

Will Rivitz: If "making it look easy" is doing at-home Positions karaoke sprawled on your couch while your friends ignore you to scroll Insta, then sure, I guess. [3]

Katherine St. Asaph: Pleasant! Also situated exactly on the edge of sounding dated -- as in, I genuinely cannot tell whether it does or not. [6]

Ian Mathers: I'm not sure what's actually making that flute-like loop you hear at the beginning (and throughout); maybe it's a specific instrument I'm not familiar with, but it sounds to me like a wonky recorder and partly as a result of that it's very charming. It brings a fittingly casual air to a song about making it look easy, like surely you can pull off this kind of vibe with just about any kind of materials? I'm not even sure what does or does not qualify as "trap" anymore (if I ever knew) but surely if this does it's one of the least outwardly aggressive expressions of the form. Kinda works, honestly. [7]

Taylor Alatorre: I don't know if it was intentional that nearly all of the casually badass "I run this shit"-type lyrics are sung in English, while the admissions of imperfection and struggle are, from the non-Korean audience's perspective, hidden behind a language barrier. But with Le Sserafim, a group that takes such pride in their meticulously crafted identity that they sing their own name twice on a 5-song EP, nothing seems to be unintentional. Having built their brand upon anthems of disruption and defiance, "EASY" serves as a well-timed reprieve from all the noise, a chance to sprawl themselves out over a melodic trap beat, count their checks, and survey all they've conquered. They resist any temptations toward showiness that might upend the carefully composed balance, confident that a line like "rip it up like ballet" will make its genius known even if it isn't shouted from the rafters. [8]

Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: As another example of LE SSERAFIM's inspira-pop, "Easy" is initially underwhelming with a light trap beat and flute riff: it sounds lightweight following singles like "Eve, Psyche & The Bluebeard’s Wife." That's also the strength of the song -- "Easy" sounds easy but not tossed-off, proving their point. It's confident. It's not their best, but it works. [7]

Nortey Dowuona: Amanda Ibanez you will always be famous with the Technicians. [9]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Not the best sleek K-pop dance track named "Easy" out there but a perfectly fine substitute in a pinch. LE SSERAFIM have been more interesting than this on every one of their prior singles, but the cool, cipher-like nature of "Easy" suits them oddly well -- against a trap beat generic enough that I wondered if it were a sample of something from Atlanta circa 2017, the five of them muster a poise that they lacked on some of their earlier work. It's solid enough, but the closer you examine it the less there is to truly love here. [6]

Alfred Soto: Too easy. [5]

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