#i have lived in this city my whole life and loving it IS rotten work it’s true. but i would never want to be anywhere else.

[significant-narratives]

leafs core they could never make me hate you. no one ever chooses toronto and yet time and time again our core have done just that. jt leaving long island to come home. mo signing a smaller contract to stay. auston saying i don’t know why you guys were so worried it’s not like i was ever going to leave. mitch still loving this city despite the vitriol that’s been thrown at him. willy saying this is my home this is the only place i want to be the only place i want to win. toronto is hungry and toronto is demanding and toronto is stubborn and toronto has scared off so many who have tried to love it and yet this core is still here. they love it here. in spite of it all? or because of it.

[yyokkki]

Leona Kingscholar

A lion beastman who’s usually laying around somewhere in the forest or in his house, sleeping.

As it turns out he only really walks around town starting from 7PM up to ungodly hours (cue a lot of passing out right in front of him cuz you couldn’t find him right up to 2).

Plays rugby with Ruggie and Epel every sunny Sunday.

He was actually born into an affluent family as the second son. He’d spent his whole life training to take over the company despite everyone from his parents to the housekeepers looking down on him and constantly comparing him to his older brother.

In the end his brother took over the company and after his nephew, Cheka, was born he left the city and moved to the quiet town of Night Raven. (Well, it was quiet before all the crazy residents started moving in…)

Loved Gifts: Meat/Meat Dishes (Except Bug Meat), Universal Loves

“Heh, not bad Herbivore.”

Hated Gifts: All Vegetables, Universal Hates

“Oi, do I look like a garbage can?”

Ruggie Bucchi

A hyena beastman who grew up in the slums of the city with his grandma and the kids he took care of.

When they hadn’t moved yet Leona would often hire him to run the occasional errand but before he moved he asked him to follow him and be his full time attendant for a ludicrous salary.

Immediately accepted and regularly sends money back to his grandma.

He takes part time jobs at Sam’s General Store and the town saloon as well.

Sometimes steals random veggies from your garden, the scarecrows aren’t just for the crow.

Is often found in the forests foraging or tending to a little vegetable garden that only he eats the harvest from. 

Doesn’t blink an eye if he sees you rummaging through the garbage. If anything, he joins you.

Loved Gifts: Dandelions, Donuts, Gold, All Foragables, Universal Loves

“Really?! Shishishi, well don’t mind if I do! Here, have this~”

Hated Gifts: Sap, Anything Rotten, Universal Hates

“...Do I look that desperate?”

Jack Howl

The local botanist! His shop is a greenhouse and he specialises in ornamental plants like cactus, succulents and flowers! Most of the flower seeds are sold from him as well as fertilisers and pots.

Genuinely loves his job but prefers being more physically active.

Goes on runs with Deuce every sunny Wednesday but runs at 6AM every other day.

A wolf beastman who lives with his parents and his two younger siblings.

Is often found tending to his shop or working out outside. 

Loved Gifts: Cactus Fruit, Pear Compote, Universal Loves

“...! Thanks farmer. Wh- My tail is NOT wagging!”

Hated Gifts: Spring Onion, Horseradish, Leek, Universal Hates

“!!! Ugh, excuse me…”

---

TWST x SDV Masterlist

Tag List (Interact with the linked post to be tagged in future updates mwah)

[glassica-writes]

Bad Ending

Notes: M!yan sidekick x Gn!reader hero, betrayal, drugging, confinement, mild noncon touching & kissing

That's it. No more of this revenge nonsense, you'll have to come with him regardless.

You noticed from the start, those intense feelings he harbored towards you were anything but mere adoration for a friend. Didn't settle with just being one of your companions, the man was convinced, or rather adamant, that he was the rightful partner you couldn’t live without, and my God did he was determined to prove it at all cost! His investigative skills were instrumental to track down the culprits behind the ruin of your family. The team never had to worry about getting stranded throughout the journey, all thanks to his incredible network introducing you to helpful locals and navigate through cities and underground system. Espionage? Fear not, years of working in palaces taught him enough etiquette of nobles to pass off as one, successfully infiltrated into the enemies’ inner circles.

The man worked, worked, and worked to the bone, hoping that one day you’d recognize how irreplaceable he was to you, accepting his fervent affections at last. He would softly put his lips on your palm, like any gentleman supposed to, congratulating your long-awaited victory over the sunset. The two of you then would enjoy the rest of life together in a countryside, just like how any love story closing with the leads happily ever after.

Pure wistful thinking. Your heart was too consumed in the pit bottom of despair and thirst for vengeance to allow such tenderness a chance blossoming. He thought love could be the thing to regain the happiness and peace back to you, and soon enough learned the bitter truth: his darling needed none of it. You didn’t ask for salvation from a white knight, rather longed for the cruel destruction of one’s own after karma finally bestowed upon your nemesis. Judging by the countless lives unjustly taken under your vindictive blade, this should be a beffiting conclusion for a vengeful hero.

…As if he would’ve allowed it.

Cocky smirk spread across the face as he was looking down on the helpless figure of his beloved. What a sight to behold! You looked delightful laying there on bed, immobilized from that suspicious drink earlier. Eyes hollowed and soulless, you’d given up resisting those touchy fingers caressing every bit of your body (not like you were able to move anyway). Smooches raining on wherever he had his hands, just served to pile up on the sickening emotions making waves inside your heart. Disgusted. Betrayed. In no possible scenarios could you ever predict that it was him, the right-hand man, your first ever teammate, your most trusted ally, would be the one bringing your downfall. Perhaps times spent within the enemies’ quarters had rubbed him off the wrong way, you should’ve never let him penetrate into that rotten den in the first place!

“No sweetie, you get the wrong idea,” he chuckled haughtily, aware of what was going on in your head, “I did not choose those imbeciles over you my love. No one will ever come close to you, that alone I can promise.”

“I’m so tired of waiting. How more are you gonna string me along darling? Is my heart not worth even a second for you to consider? Or are you only keep me around until I’ve offered up all my services, next throw me aside like a useless toy? Why is it so hard to say you love me back?!”

With each questions he grew angrier and more unstable. Pupils tinged a ray of pitch black seemingly like abyss threaten to swallow you whole. To hell with the plan, he couldn’t give a damn about your wish to avenge beloved family. They were no longer alive either way, but his feelings were. They were real, burning the mind of a lovesick man, tormenting him days and nights with frightful ideas of you drifting further away, to somewhere his arms couldn’t reach out. “This madness have to stop,” was what he murmured on the way to inform the villains about a surprise attack from your team that night.

And so, this is the ending of a tragic hero, a disappointing one at that: No justice to clear the name of your household. No noble death to atone for your sins. Forever caged in a twisted love game of one’s very own traitor.

[santaasi]

DANCE WITH ME

pairing: jj maybank x dancer!fem!reader

summary: jj maybank loves the sea, the sandy beach of north carolina and the warm sun. new york is the exact opposite of all this. and he hates it. but she... she changes everything.

warnings: new york au, fluff, slight angst (as usual), but happy ending, miscommunication trope, a little use of y/n, some language, english is not my first language

word count: 5.9k

a/n: first of all, thank u all for supporting my first two works here. I rly couldn’t have expected so much love and support from all of u, but i appreciate it. secondly, I can't write summaries, so i think it sounds kinda shitty. thirdly, it was supposed to be a small blurb, but I was carried away and I couldn't stop. and fourthly, I listened to Slaves - Body on Fire and Katy Perry - Wide Awake while writing this oneshot, so I advise everyone to do the same.

The huge theater hall of the New York School of the Fine Arts was getting more crowded and noisier by the second. People dressed in ridiculously posh suits, as if they had come to a reception at Buckingham Palace, took their seats and from time to time looked askance at the two guys sitting in one of the front rows.

In particular, all those present, as it seemed to JJ himself, looked at him with special disapproval interest. Compared to this bunch of rich bastards who had nothing to do on Thursday night except watch their ‘creatively gifted’ children jumping around the stage in tutus, he looked like a black sheep in his dark jeans, a white T-shirt with unwashed ketchup stains and a cap on. He looked like a total looser, who had missed his shift at a godforsaken restaurant in the Bronx only to watch his best friend’s new girlfriend performance, while everyone around him was showing off their wealth and position. Showing JJ his place.

JJ Maybank had no place in this money-rotten world. And he knew it perfectly well.

And why was he sitting here then?

Just as simple as it is. Because of John Booker Routledge. JJ Maybank adored his best friend. No, not best friend. JJ Maybank adored his brother, John B., who saved him from an abusive and alcoholic father, allowing him to move into his small flat in the Bronx and gave him a chance to make a fresh start.

John B. Routledge was always there for JJ. They spent all the happy and sad moments together, supporting and helping each other. And Maybank, in gratitude for everything, was ready to do anything for John B. Absolutely anything.

That's why he was now sitting in a maroon-upholstered theater chair, waiting for the start of a ballet performance in which John B's new girlfriend, Sarah, had the main role, and felt all these rich jerks staring at him. And it annoyed him.

He was annoyed by all these vain idiots and how they always looked down on guys like John and J, who had to literally fight for their lives in this huge city, while those rich bastards were drinking prosecco on the veranda of their Soho estate.

He was annoyed by the kids of these jerks who studied at these luxurious art schools, a semester in which cost so much that JJ could live happily on this money for five years or even more.

He was annoyed by whole this situation, which literally screamed: “Look at us! We have a lot of money that we spend on stupid school performances, so that our kids would think they're talented.”

JJ Maybank was not envious. It was just that he, a man who had worked his whole life in order not to starve, did not perceive all this creative entertainments as something serious at all. He didn't go to theaters, operas, ballets and the like. For him, it was stupid shows to launder money from these rich peeps. And JJ wouldn't be sitting in this chair waiting for the play to start if it wasn't for John B. John B., who needed his support in this fashionable enemy lair.

Exhaling irritably, catching another look of disgust from some elderly lady in furs, J took off his cap and ran fingers through his blond hair, turning to John B., who was looking at the curtains and tapping his feet on the floor.

“I'm going to take a leak and smoke, okay, John?" JJ patted him on the shoulder before getting up from his seat and heading out of the hall. John just nodded without taking his eyes off the stage.

This guy was obsessed with Sarah. And it's not that JJ didn't understand what his best mate found in a pretty blonde girl, it's just... it's just that Maybank never thought that John B would be all lovey-dovey with some chick that was completely out of his league. Although Routledge always had freer views in this rich/poor hierarchy, while JJ was sure that all the kids born with a golden spoon in their mouths were stuck up bitches not worth his attention.

Of course, Sarah Cameron proved the opposite. As they would say in North Carolina, she was kook on the outside, but a true pogue in her heart. But, as Maybank believed, this was a one-in-a-million exception.

JJ was walking along a bright corridor, trying to find the exit, when he caught a barely audible melodie. The guy followed the sound, looking through the glass in the slightly ajar door leading to a bright, spacious ballroom with large panoramic windows and ballet bars. In the middle of the sunset-drenched hall stood a young girl, who sometimes came with Sarah to hang out with John and JJ, but he never paid enough attention to her.

More precisely, she was too out of reach for a guy like JJ, to pay her attention that he wanted to. She was kind, sincere, her smile could light up, it seemed, the whole world. She always laughed at his jokes, even the dumbest ones. The mere touch of her fingers on his skin made JJ burn as if he were being immersed in a flaming cauldron of hell.

She was incredibly smart, funny and breathtakingly beautiful. Just the sight of her in a small summer dress made everything in front of his eyes fade, leaving only her. She was too perfect in his eyes, like an angel descending from heaven to torment him, JJ Maybank, showing him what he could never have. Making him hate his position and his life. Making him envious of these dumb rich assholes. Because she was too good for a bad guy like JJ Maybank.

And now, looking at her fragile frame, watching the elegant swings of her hands, perfectly honed movements and the flight of her hair from each new spin, JJ's heart in the chest was treacherously squeezed with delight. His breathing, as well as time, stopped, and it seemed to the guy as if the world had stopped too, leaving only her in his field of vision. Neat facial features, flushed cheeks, slightly parted lips, gaze concentrated on the mirror, but as if looking into another dimension. She looked beautiful, flawless... No, she looked divine.

JJ didn't know how long he had been standing in the hallway looking at Sarah Cameron's friend. But as soon as the music ended, and she ran her hand over her hot face, pushing back the hair stuck to her skin. As soon as she raised a bottle of water to her lips taking a couple of sips. And as soon as her gaze fell on the guy on the other side of the door. Maybank immediately came out of his entranced state, feeling caught and ashamed.

Turning around on his heels, JJ walked swiftly to the exit, still feeling his heart beating in his chest at breakneck speed, and her gentle image rises before his eyes. A wave of the hand. Jump. Spin. And again the hand is in the air. Jump… Spin… The music is like the sound of the sea... Her eyes are like warm sand…

The cold February wind hit him in the face and without even thinking, the guy lit a cigarette, looking into the void.

He hated New York and the cold of the city. He missed North Carolina. Kildare with its warm sun and sandy beaches. The smell of the sea, the sound of waves and surfing…

Why is he even thinking about the Outer Banks now, three years after he left without even once looking back…?

JJ Maybank did not return to that room full of these loaded bastards, steeped in luxury and affectation. Instead, he lowered his head and got to their shared apartment on the outskirts of the Bronx, where the rats and the crazy granny neighbor who was always bothering him for nothing were waiting for him.

But for the first time in three years, JJ Maybank didn't care about any of this. He was still standing in that hallway. He looked through the glass at the sunlit room.

A wave of the hand. Jump. Spin.

And again. Her hand is in the air... Jump… Spin…

The music is like the sound of the sea... Her eyes are like warm sand… And her light smile, like the warm sun of Kildare…

JJ Maybank fell in love.

If someone had told him six months ago that his heart would beat a thousand beats per minute just by looking at her, or that when talking to her, he would not be able to find more than one suitable word and would only stand and watch her giggle softly at his reaction... He would have laughed in the man's face. Because JJ Maybank doesn't fall in love. He spends one night with a girl and forgets about her in the morning. He takes napkins with numbers he will never call and throws them in the nearest trash can.

JJ Maybank is not made for relationships. He does not get attached and cannot love. But for some reason, he feels differently with her.

JJ Maybank fell in love.

And if six months ago he would have been told that he would work two shifts to buy himself a white dress shirt and a pair of decent trousers just to sit in a maroon velvet armchair among rich pompous bastards and watch her dance on stage... Watch how she transforms in her dance, becoming even more beautiful... Watch her every move, every curve of her body and the soft rise of her hands just to catch the smallest changes on her flawless face…

And then, meet her in the hall with a bouquet of her favorite tulips in his hands, for which he borrowed money from John B., just to see her smile like Kildare's sun and hear her laugh that reminds him of waves crashing on the shore.

JJ Maybank fell head over heels in love with her.

And it was obvious to everyone as a clear day.

John B. saw his friend's pupils turn into two big throbbing hearts when he saw her. John B. saw how JJ, who had always been confident around the girls, turned into a small helpless puppy who could not utter a single word as soon as she appeared next to him. John B. noticed how his best friend's life changed dramatically with the arrival of her in JJ's life.

JJ Maybank's life, which previously consisted only of home, work and a couple of weekend parties, now consisted only of work and meetings with her after which he went back to work.

Sarah wasn't blind to the changes in JJ's behavior either. The first time she saw him on the steps of the NYAFA, she thought that something had happened to John B., but when she realized that Maybank was not waiting for her, but for her friend, everything immediately fell into place. JJ's frequent appearance at performances at the academy, even when John B. did not go to them, the flowers that changed every three days in their shared with Y/N house, his questions about her best friend's preferences and many other things finally made sense.

Therefore, at her birthday party, Sarah decided to be a wingman and do everything possible to connect loving hearts. After all, Cameron did not escape the reactions from Y/N, who too often began to ask questions about JJ, who began to devote more time to her appearance and blushed every time Sarah mentioned only the name of the blonde.

Now JJ was sitting at a table in the Cameron's house backyard in Soho, which was decorated with sparkling lights in honor of the birthday girl, and stirring a glass of brandy in his hand. His gaze was once again focused only on her, dancing with Sarah on an improvised dance floor to some Latin music. The skirt of her white dress was like sea foam rising and falling with her every movement, and her ringing laughter made his heart skip a beat. During the four months of his addiction to her, it became a habitual body reaction for him.

JJ chuckled as he drained the rest of the brandy before lifting his head and meeting her glittering, emerald-like eyes. Her cheeks were red and her lips stretched into a wide smile. The guy saw how her chest quickly fell and rose after active dancing. The girl tilted her head slightly, bringing a red cup with drink to her lips before sitting down next to Maybank.

“Are you enjoying the party, Jay?" the girl teased. Her velvety voice carried like an electric current through his body before Maybank turned his head in her direction.

“Rather enjoying the view,” JJ grinned, winking at her, making the poor girl blush. She giggled softly and rolled her eyes playfully, nudging him lightly on the shoulder.

“I'm serious, by the way. You look tired,” the girl murmured and a line appeared between her brows. “And lately, I- I rarely see you.”

JJ's heart skipped a beat at the thought that she was worried about him and a corners of his mouth lifted. He sat closure to her, putting his hand on the back of her chair, looking straight into her doe-eyes. The girl felt as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs by the very sight of that self-confident grin and the look into those deep blue eyes. J's hand softly touched her cheek as he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. The girl sucked in a loud breath and involuntarily leaned into his touch.

“You shouldn't bother that pretty little head of yours with worries about me, princess,” the guy whispered, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself.”

“And what if I want to take care of you...” the girl said in a barely audible voice, swallowing a lump in her throat.

She could feel her heart about to burst out when JJ slightly closed the distance between them. His lips were unbearably close to hers and she felt his hot breath burning her skin, and his hand continued to gently stroke her cheek. She had never wanted to kiss someone so much in her life.

For the past four months, all she could think about was the guy who came to her every performance when even her parents weren't there. The guy who meets her every night from rehearsals and asks her about her day. The guy who gives her his hoodie when she gets cold. The guy who brings her a bouquet of her favorite tulips every three days and leaves cute notes inside that she keeps in a shoe box under the bed.

Before JJ Maybank, all her thoughts were occupied only with dancing, which she lived and breathed, rehearsals, preparations for concerts and dreams of Broadway.

Now everything that surrounded her: a fresh bouquet of tulips in the kitchen, a blue hoodie with the smell of the sea in her closet, notes in a box under her bed and even the music she danced to - reminds her of him. She thinks about JJ when she wakes up and when she fall asleep. When she's dancing, when she's choosing music for a new performance, when she's walking, when she's reading, when she's resting. She thinks about JJ Maybank, about his light soft disheveled hair, about his blue eyes in which she could drown, about the smell of the salty sea that seemed to soak into his skin, constantly.

And now that he was so close to her, when he touched her face and looked at her with such tenderness, all she wanted to do was pull him closer and kiss him. But instead she swallowed, barely breaking away from him as Sarah's voice shattered their little vacuum world. Maybank cursed softly, running his hand through his hair before looking back at the girl who had already got up from her seat, preparing to head towards Sarah.

“Will you dance with me when I'm done with her?" A nervous laugh escaped her lips as she turned around halfway, looking hopefully at the guy.

JJ was taken aback. He wanted to agree. He wanted to say that he would be happy to dance with her, but... but he couldn't dance. And he was ashamed to admit it to someone for whom dancing was hers whole life. And he didn't want their first dance to be a complete failure just because he was a fool who couldn't move his bear paws and didn't know where to put his hands and how to behave properly and…

“Mhm. I'm already leaving. I have a night shift, so… Maybe another time?” the guy said distantly and shrugged, getting up from his chair.

Meeting her gaze, which literally screamed disappointment and that his answer hurt her, J immediately regretted his words and wanted to return them, but it was too late. The girl faked a smile and nodded.

“Then... maybe... another time? See ya, Jay,” she said finally and disappeared into the crowd, trying to suppress the tears that are starting to fill her eyes.

"Yeah… next time," the guy echoed, watching her move further away from him.

JJ Maybank was head over heels in love.

And even though he wasn't a genius before, he was a complete fool now.

Three weeks later, her dreams and her heart were broken. Three weeks after Sarah's birthday, she realized that all of JJ's feelings for her were just her own delusions.

At first, they just started seeing each other less often. He no longer met her after rehearsals, as he took extra shifts at work, but still sent her flowers every three days. He messaged her every day asking how her day was and how she was feeling, told her funny stories from work on their evenings phone calls and everything seemed fine. But after two weeks, all their communication came to naught. She offered to meet a couple of times, but JJ refused, saying that he had a job and as soon as his co-worker will recover from his unexpected illness, they would definitely meet.

And she believed him. And waited.

Until one day she saw JJ Maybank with a cup of coffee in his hand, strolling down Lexington Avenue smiling at a dark-haired girl, so beautiful as if she had stepped off the cover of vogue magazine when, according to him, he was supposed to be at work.

And at that moment, her whole world seemed to collapse.

She knew that she had no rights to the guy, that he had promised her nothing. And she understood perfectly well that they were not in a relationship, and that in fact he could spend his time with anyone. But her heart beat painfully in her chest from the realization that all those sweet and meaningful moments with him were now just nothing.

All those notes, flowers, late-night calls and conversations, that almost kiss - were now nothing and it broke her heart.

But the worst thing about this situation was the realization that instead of talking, JJ just decided to ignore her and ghost her, coming up with stupid excuses not to see her.

Maybe she did something wrong? Or maybe some of her words hurt him? Or was she too clingy? A lot of questions were spinning in the girl's head, but all she could do was lock herself in her room and cry, glad that Sarah had gone to her family for a couple of days. She didn't want to discuss this topic with anyone, not even with her best friend.

From that day on, she stopped texting JJ in the morning and calling in the evenings when she returned from rehearsals. She stopped opening the door to the courier, who continued to bring her flowers from him. And she hid his hoodie, smelling of the sea, away in the closet. She cut JJ Maybank out of her life, devoting herself to dancing, shutting herself off from the world around her.

At first, JJ did not notice that the girl had pulled away from him, immersed in her business and work.

More precisely, he noticed that she no longer wrote or called him after training, but for the first three days he attributed it to her busy schedule. Maybank remembered that she had mentioned preparing for an audition for a Broadway troupe, and thought that was what she was doing. But when he hadn't heard from her for a week, he got worried.

To tell the truth, JJ has been restless all week. He was so used to her presence in his life, to her morning messages that gave him energy for the whole day, to her evening calls and laughter on the phone that made his soul feel better, that the absence of these small moments felt like emptiness. Like a black corridor with no exit.

And JJ started writing to her himself, but he didn't get a reply. Then he started calling her, but all the calls were forwarded to the voicemail. He went to the academy, but he never saw her. And eventually he met Sarah, who was also completely unaware.

“Since I came from my parents, she hasn't been herself,” Sarah admitted, biting her lip, frowning slightly. “She hardly talks to me, she's always rehearsing, and it's like she's dropped out of life. I do not know what's wrong with her, JJ.”

Because of the whole situation, JJ Maybank couldn't live fully.

He continued to write to her, call her, even wrote letters by hand, as in those romantic films that she loved so much, throwing them under her door, but he never received an answer. Not a single response in a month.

He had been living without her in his life for a whole fucking month, and if before he was sure that he was in love with her, now JJ Maybank was a thousand percent sure that he loved her to the point of insanity and physical pain.

He wanted to hear her laugh every day. He wanted to wake up and see her smile and sparkling eyes first. He wanted to listen to her endless chatter about her favorite actors, singers and dancers. He wanted to watch her dance, watch how her soul seemed to rise somewhere higher, to where he had no access. He wanted to watch her laugh, blush, cry, be sad or angry for the rest of his life.

JJ Maybank wanted to spend his whole life with her. Because she is life itself. She is the ocean, the sound of waves, wet sand and warm sun. She's Kildare. She's his home.

And JJ Maybank wasn't going to give up on that. Not today. Not now. Never.

The sun had long sunk below the horizon. It was raining like hell, and even if JJ had an umbrella, it definitely wouldn't have saved him. No one could hide from the spring rains of New York.

JJ was standing under a tree near the entrance to the Academy of Fine Arts, waiting for her.

Today, JJ will solve all their problems and confess his feelings to her. No matter the weather, no matter her mood, or even the meteor shower, he will do everything to make her listen to him. And if after that she decides that she doesn't want to see him, then he will leave her life forever. But if, for once in his life, luck would be on his side, and she reciprocates, then... then he will never let her go.

The big front door opened and Y/N walked out of the building, lifting her head up, looking at the sky. JJ froze for a second, watching as she lifted her backpack over her head and walked down the marble steps so beautiful and elegant. He hadn't seen her for almost a month and a half, and now that she was so close to him, all thoughts and intentions left his head. And just like the first time they met, he could only look at her and enjoy the view. But as soon as her foot hit the sidewalk and she headed for the bus stop, JJ came out of his hiding place calling her name.

The girl stopped halfway, slowly looking over her shoulder at the blond man approaching her. The world stopped around her in a second. She felt her knees ready to buckle, and her heart began to beat a painfully familiar accelerated rhythm. But before her feelings could fully grasp her again, the girl pulled herself together and turned away, swiftly walking away from him.

“No, wait! We need to talk!" JJ shouted through the noise of the rain, starting to run, catching her by the forearm and turning her towards him. The girl's eyes widened when his hand touched the bare skin of her forearm and her whole body felt like it was on fire.

“Let me go,” she said coldly, and JJ was a little taken aback, but did not let go of her hands, shaking his head negatively. He won't leave until he's sorted it out. He needed answers. And he needed her even more.

“I won't let you go until you tell me what's the matter with you"

The girl stared at the guy in shock, and then laughed out loud, throwing her head back, lowering the bag, as her hand was tired of holding it over her head. Raindrops immediately began to roll down her face and hair, drenching her to the skin in a second.

“Are you serious? What's the matter? You tell me what's the matter, JJ! Tired of your new doll and you decided to come back to me again, huh?”

Her eyes sparkled with the fire of anger, burning a hole in the uncomprehending JJ. She was furious and it was the first time he had seen her like this and did not understand what he had done to arouse such reaction in her. Her bag fell to the sidewalk and she came closer, lifting her head a little higher, looking straight into his eyes.

“What? Did you also play with her, made her feel needed, desired, and then dumped her? Yeah, Maybank? Did you do the same to her?”

She pulled her hand out of his grasp and pushed her palms into his chest. The guy staggered, but remained standing in place, frowning, watching her eyes fill with tears. Or was it just the rain?

“Why aren't you saying anything? Answer me! Did you do the same to her as you did to me?" The girl roared in his face, pushing him in the chest once more before taking a step back, shaking her head.

She turned away for a couple of seconds, gathering her thoughts. JJ heard her sniffle and felt his heart clench with pain. He didn't understand what she was angry about, who she was talking about and what she wanted him to say. Maybank wanted to pull her closer to him and calm her down, to tell her that everything would be fine and that they could work it out, but he was too overwhelmed by everything that was happening and couldn't even move.

“You know, I believed that you really liked me. I believed that for the first time in my life, someone liked me, and not Sarah or one of my friends, but you...” she sniffled again, wiping the tears that rolled down her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I-I really believed you… Why didn't you tell me you weren't interested in me? Why didn't you say you didn't want to talk to me? Why did you make up excuses that you were working or-”

“Excuses? I was really working. I took extra shifts and I-” finally realizing the reality of the situation, JJ began to speak, but she immediately interrupted him, throwing a look full of pain and resentment.

“I saw you and that girl coming out of the coffee shop together when you said you were going to work!" She exclaimed, covering her face with her hands, running her fingers through her dump hair.

JJ rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out what she meant, which girl she was talking about, until he remembered Brittany, his dance coach. He signed up for dance classes a month ago. Was it really all because of that? Was she ignoring him because she thought he was just having fun with her? No, no, she couldn't have thought that.…

“Hey, hey, no, it's all not what it seems,” the guy shook his head, taking a step forward, reaching for her hands, removing them from her face, squeezing them in his own.

His eyes scanned her face. The mascara flowed from moisture and tears, the eyes were slightly reddened, and the nose was swollen. And JJ looked at her again. Not understanding why she would even think that he would like someone like Brittany when she was all he could dream of. His hands cupped her face and with his thumbs he gently wiped away the black marks under her eyes. A soft sob escaped her lips and a fresh batch of tears rolled down her cheeks. He exhaled, pressing his forehead against hers, swallowing, breathing heavily.

“The truth is... that Brittany girl... she's my dance teacher,” JJ whispered and looked into her eyes, which were looking at him questioningly. She looked like a little lost child and he chuckled softly.

“That night, at Sarah's birthday party, when you asked me to dance…" J closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. He hoped that he would never have to admit it, and that his dancing lessons would remain a secret, but she had to know the truth so as not to consider him the jerk who played with her feelings. JJ didn't want her to think that of him. “I refused because I can't dance. And I was... I was ashamed. Dancing is your whole life and I would just embarrass myself in front of you… And you'd think I was some kind of fool...”

“But I-I would never have th-thought that,” the girl whispered softly. J opened his eyes, caught her sincere gaze and smiled. God, what a fool he was.

“That's right, but I... I was an insecure jerk, princess,” the guy admitted, grinning, tucking a wet curl behind her ear. “I'm… It all happened so fast and I... I never saw myself catching these feelings. I never asked for help or needed the healing. And I decided to take these damn dance classes for you... and I didn't want you to find out because I... because I'm a complete idiot, apparently,” the guy laughed softly, shaking his head.

JJ let go of her face and took a couple of steps back, giving her time to process everything he said. He could feel his heart beating wildly against the walls of his chest while she stood and was silent, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Listen, Princess. I know I should have told you and all that earlier, but I... God, you're driving me crazy, you know? I can't think, speak, or breathe when you're around. I'm head over heels in love with you, angel” Maybank ran his fingers through the hair, trying to collect his thoughts. “I can't stop the way that this felt. It keeps coming round and round and round and back again”

She looked at him in silence, feeling as if the heart that she had broken herself was beginning to heal from his words. And she wanted to cry how stupid she had been to believe that JJ was playing with her. While he was taking dance lessons so as not to look like a fool in front of her… She knew he didn't like dancing, but for her sake he went to classes to learn. For her sake, he stepped over himself a bunch of times, worked overtime and did everything to make her happy, and she just...

A loud sob escaped her lips and she covered her mouth with her hand, feeling tears blurring her eyes. Her legs buckled and she almost fell to the ground, but JJ quickly picked her up, hugging her to him.

“I'm sorry, Jay! I'm so so so sorry, I was such a fool! I-I-I didn't mean to! I-I-didn't know,” the girl whimpered into his chest, clinging to his soaked T-shirt. His free hand slowly stroked her wet hair while his other hand held her on her feet.

“Shhh… Everything's fine now, right? We'll figure it out and everything will be fine,” the guy whispered in her ear, kissing the top of her head. “You believe me, don't you?”

The girl raised her head looking at his calm face, on which raindrops were running, at his wet hair and soft smile, and her soul felt so warm, as if in a second she was at home in the warmth next to the fireplace with a warm mug of tea in her hands, and not standing under the cold pouring rain in the middle of the street. Her hand slowly soared into the air and removed the bangs that stuck to his forehead before nodding in agreement.

JJ's gaze swept over her soft features. First the eyes, then the pink cheeks and plump lips that he wanted to kiss so much. The guy exhaled, raising his eyes again, looking into hers.

“Will you dance with me?” He whispered hoarsely, without taking his eyes off her, holding out his hand.

She smiled, and it seemed to him that this smile could light up the whole world if the sun ever went out. She gently placed her hand in his palm, and put the other on his shoulder. JJ squeezed her hand, pulling her closer by the waist, so that he felt every cell of her body and took the first hesitant step, which she followed without even thinking.

Her gaze was focused on his eyes, blue as two oceans, in which she was drowning more and more with each new step of the dance. For the first time, she didn't think about what move she should make next, or what position to stand in to look good on stage, or about getting to the beat of the music. For the first time in a long time, she danced just for herself, as she felt and as she wanted, completely trusting in the hands of JJ Maybank. He with trepidation and tenderness whirled her around in a dance on the ever-hurrying streets of New York, which at that moment stopped their run. Leaving only her, JJ and their dance in this vast world.

“I think love you, JJ,” she whispered softly, looking into his eyes, feeling a lump rise in her throat from excitement. Maybank stopped holding her in his arms, studying her face carefully before saying hoarsely, “Say it again".

“I love you,” she said on an exhale, and as soon as these words were uttered for the second time, Maybank pulled her face closer and kissed her. Gently. No rush. Like he haven't kissed anyone else before her. Trying to feel every emotion to the fullest.

The New York's rain comes pouring down, not even thinking to stop. And JJ Maybank didn't like the New York's rain. He didn't like New York and the people who live here. He disliked theater, ballet and dancing.

But JJ Maybank loved the sea, the sun and sandy beaches. He also loved surfing and Kildare, which he had to leave three years ago. He loved his home, which was thousands of miles from New York.

Y/N Y/L loved New York with its weather and people. She lived by dancing and dreamed of performing on Broadway and had never been to North Carolina. But despite this, JJ Maybank saw her as his home: the waves of the sea in her laughter, the sandy beaches in her eyes and the warmth of the sun in her smile.

And next to her, it turned out that New York and North Carolina were not so different, and that his home would never be a thousand miles away. And from now on, It will always stay next to him, in his arms, on his lips, in his heart.

Because now JJ Maybank knew that his home had never been a place. It's always been a person. And it's her.

that’s my first such loooong oneshot here so, i’m a little nervous to post it. but i rly hope it came out good n not too boring.

I will be glad to receive any feedback. a comment, like or reblog always pleases that little writer’s heart of mine.

but, nevertheless, thankx for reading <3

– your santi ✨

masterlist

[namazunomegami]

prince!toji x imperial concubine!reader

a/n: Part 3 of my drabble series is finished!! I'm not a Toji simp but writing him was a surprisingly easy process. And for the love of god I just can't finish Gojo it's so hard to handle him in this specific setting.

Sorry Toji girlies but I just can't imagine him as an emperor in the AU, but being a disgraced prince goes sooo well with his character. Hope you'll enjoy this part as much as I did while working on it!

Likes and reblogs are still appreciated <33

wc: 1060, I got carried away with the exposition

cw: Toji is a dick, smut, period accurate euphemism for an orgasm, angsty ending

credits: My one and only @notveryrussian did the proofreading again, thank u darl <33

MDNI, if you do, I'm gonna block you so hard you'll feel it in your next life

When an emperor dies, his mandate dies with him. The death of a god can shake the whole realm, it shakes the whole family. Anomalies start to happen because heaven’s throne shouldn’t stay vacant for long.

Toji almost lost the last bit of his sanity when he was summoned to the capital. It’s sickening that the court wanted him to go back to the palace and pay his respects to the recently deceased Naobito. Another blow to his already wounded pride. They want him to venerate the uncle who cast him out of the family, who banished him to a rural town to live in conditions so unfitting for his rank, with no support on top of all of that. Luckily, he’s familiar with many shortcuts to easy money.

The embalmed corpse of the late emperor is his only delight. The spacious halls and courtyards of the palaces, the carvings, the decorative paintings, thangkas, the ginormous, lush gardens made him yearn for that small house he was sent to. This place just wasn’t home anymore. Those related to him weren’t family anymore. They get through with the funeral rites, the relatives and the officials will settle the line of succession, and then he’ll leave, he has no other reason to stay here. He has no hopes to be chosen as emperor. Naobito and Jinichi already did so much damage to his name. Maybe the rest of the family just want something to gossip about for a few years, that’s why they called him back.

It’s all so tiring. The vigils, the march to the tomb, the prayers the monks recite, the offerings. He has nothing to give, not even an incense stick or a plate of fruits. He endures the rites in silence, he has no pleasant memories to reflect upon or kind words to say about him much to his cousins’ dismay. He wants to tear everything to pieces, burn the whole city down and piss on the ruins because that’s what Naobito always deserved.

After the funeral, the whole palace descends into chaos. Naobito failed to appoint an heir, every one of his kids has an equal chance to inherit the throne and the whole court sits in the Hall of Mental Cultivation to argue about the distribution of wealth, the army, and the provinces between the family. They’re like jackals, bickering over the meat on a rotten corpse.

Before he planned to sneak into the Hall of Three Rarities to look at (and maybe steal) some of the relics, the issue of the concubines was brought up.

You’re a lovely little bunch. Naobito wasn’t a man known for his gentleness, the mutual torment made you stick together, support each other. Just the thought of it makes his cold heart fill with a strange kind of comfort. You’re all so lost, having no idea what will happen to you, who will have ownership over you. You out of all of them pray every night that Naoya will never be crowned emperor. You’d rather escape, beg for money and crumbs of dry bread on the streets before you’d let him touch you.

Maybe your prejudice towards the royal family and your gut feeling was wrong this time. He’s not like any other member of his family. He’s rough around the edges but treats you all with an odd form of kindness. You and the other concubines soon grew to like his company. They await him during leisure time to serve him tea, sing to him, you even dusted off your guzheng to play an ancient melody. With each passing day, the concubines are glowing more and more, melting in his presence. He has them wrapped around his fingers and you start thinking about whether you’re an exception or not.

It’s too late to realize that you’re not.

You walk back to the Palace of Eternal Harmony together after you picked some plums in the gardens. You’re not suspecting anything. It’s already dusk, he just wants to protect you, right? He notices your hairpin, an exquisite and costly thing with dangling pearls and jewels embedded into the flower petals shaped with gold. Naobito must have liked you, he says. You shake your head and confess that you weren’t a particular favorite of his. He has seen you only for a few nights, and you don’t know how but he manages to get all the details out of you. He’s not surprised that Naobito didn’t care about your pleasure, or if he’d caused you any pain and then just threw you away like a used toy.

What a perfect match, a disgraced nephew and an unfavored concubine.

He doesn’t care about the rules in the concubine’s quarters, he lets himself into your small room. You serve him the plums just to hide your own flusteredness. He splits the fruit in half with ease and offers it back to you, handfeeding you. Drips of sweet juice stream down on your chin. There’s depravity and starvation in your eyes. Poor soul, maybe even you can’t remember the last time you were touched. He pities you.

He’s so unlike Naobito.

He has the patience to prepare you, gives you time to adjust to him. This is your first time laying on your back, belly up, every inch of you revealed to him. It makes you feel vulnerable but at least he’s looking at you. Right in the face as your features distort in pleasure. You finally experience what the older consorts called “cloud and rain”. A nice name, you think, but it’s not the right idiom to describe what you’re feeling. It’s like ascension to another plane of existence. A rumble. Rippling warmth. Overflowing joy.

You’re too absorbed in the afterglow to notice how cold he is. The sweat sticking to his skin, the tips of his fingers, everything is so cold about him. But maybe you can warm his heart up. If only he would take you with him after the succession crisis is solved. Get away from this horrid place, let you two finally heal.

But when you wake up he’s gone. He has taken your hairpin, maybe as a memento or to put a price tag on it. The only thing that remains is his seed inside of you. You feel ruined, just like he intended with everything Naobito ever owned.

[psalacanthea]

was listening to the Disco Elysium soundtrack (video link to song) and thinking about Kirkwall, as one does.  1500 words, just a small thing about love.

...

“Hey.”

The call didn’t pull her from her staring across the city, eyes focused past the facade of Hightown.  Lights gleamed on the dark water, but they were pale reflections of the glow of Hightown, like the ocean revealed the truth of that fragile and bitter shell of respectability and power.  Her eyes weren’t there, but deeper, into a place where the darkness of the water swallowed any light, where crumbling cliffside walks and hollowed homes clung desperately to what remained in hope of survival.

The real heart of the city, where she’d lived when things were hopeful.

Down there it was poor and dirty, people living on the edge of starvation, but that was when her life had been happy.  Well, no.  Happier.  Varric wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her genuinely, only happy…while sober.

“What does it mean anymore?”

“I don’t know,” Varric said to Hawke, leaning up against the railing next to her.  

“Something has to plug this hole in me that seems to keep losing things drip by drip.  But I can’t seem to.  I feel so hollowed out.”

“You’re the one with all the platitudes.  Do you want me to pull them out?  Sometimes it can be good to hear things you already know, I’ve heard.”  He smiled, faintly, at the blank sidelong look she gave him.  “No.  Not me, huh?”

Her chin fell into her hand, and then she winced at the contact with the wound on her neck and jerked back.  The blood on her fingers didn’t gleam as she stared at them in the moonlight, it was dried, dark.  Old.  “Platitudes don’t work unless one of us believes in them.”

“I know what optimism is, at least.”

“I don’t,” she said, a quaver in her voice, a splinter of pain that hurt too much for her to feel the full truth right now.

“Sorry, Hawke.  One of us has to be the optimist, and I already called ‘not it’.”

She fell into silence, so they just watched the city and its lights for a while.  Lights that gleamed across the feet of the statues of slaves standing sentinel in the harbor, chained forever to the city that had slaughtered them.  The bridges, the pits, the quarries.  The statues.

“Weep,” the statues said to the refugees who had come here seeking hope.  “Weep, because your suffering has only begun.”

But her eyes weren’t on the statues.  They never were.  She said it was because they made her too angry, and bad things happened when she was angry.  Varric knew it was true.  She’d lost too much to not be a dangerous person, and with Bethany gone…

No, Hawke didn’t look at the statues, and she didn’t look at Hightown, or even its reflection in the water.  She looked at the dark places, the pits, the quarries.  The places where there were grooves in the roads to carry the blood of slaves.  The places where people still died for no reason.

No reason at all.

Hawke breathed in, reaching up and wiping dry eyes.  “She said I made her proud.  But that was bullshit.  Because I knew…I knew if she hadn’t died, in the next breath she would have turned around and made it my fault.  And– and now that she’s not here, that’s the only voice I hear.  The one blaming me.”

“Leandra was a complicated woman.  It’s hard.  Having a mother who can’t seem to give you what you need.”  Varric braced his hand against her lower back, and she leaned in towards him.

“Maker.  I know you’re not talking about your feelings because you’re incapable of it, but please don’t let this be a metaphor, either.”

There it was.

The spark, the little light that never seemed to go out.  The grace of humor.  Who could live in Kirkwall without it?  This whole place was just one of the Maker’s funny little jokes, after all.  But, well…she was right.

“Sorry.  It’s a metaphor.”

“Shit, Varric.”

They laughed together, bitter and sweet, staring down at the city that seemed to go on forever, deeper and deeper into the desecrated earth.  It should have been rotten to the core.  But it wasn’t.

There were people down there who were living, despite it all.

To spite it all.

“Love is…complicated.  Or so they tell me.  Especially love for our parents.”

“It’s like I can’t think about her without resenting her, and that’s not what I want for my memory.  That’s not what I want for my life.”

“Give it time.  It’ll get better.”

“Ah,” she said quietly, voice holding a rasp of weariness.  “Platitudes.  But no.  Love is…love isn’t complicated at all, Varric.”

“No?”

Hawke shook her head, eyes finally shifting, gazing slowly across the cliff face in the distance, higher and higher.  “No. It’s everything else.  I wanted to be– be a dam.”

“A damn what?”

Hawke smiled reluctantly.  “A damn hero.  I wanted to be the one to hold back the tide, but I’m…”

“Full of holes?” he guessed.

“Full of holes,” she agreed, chin dropping, eyes falling.  “And the things that escape only ever seem to hurt the people I care about, and I– is it worth it?  To lose everything to keep this place from being washed out into the sea?  Is it worth it?  Should I let them drown?”

They both fell silent as he tried to think of what to say.  His instincts said no, but was that for her, or for him?  He never knew.  Usually, his instincts led him in that direction, and that was fine, it was smart, but…that wasn’t good enough.

Not for Hawke.

“It is,” she said to herself, and to him.  “And you have to promise to believe it, for me.  I know it goes against…against who you are, and what you care about.  I know.  You look to your people first, and damn the world, but…I just can’t do it, Varric.  If you really are my friend, you’ll do it for me.  Believe it when I can’t, that this is all worth it.”

“Well, I am a pretty good liar,” he acknowledged, not really comfortable with what she was asking of him.  “You can’t badger people into belief, Hawke, trust me.  It doesn’t end well.”

And she knew that, because she gave him a sidelong smile that held a shadow of the wicked mischief that would crop up at the worst possible time.  “You believe in things beyond your friends.  You just don’t want to.  But you’ll do this for me.  Because if I’m gone–”

“Come on, stop it,” he interrupted her, discomfort growing worse.  Unconsciously, his fingers tightened, holding onto the back of her shirt.

“Because if I’m gone, I know you’ll protect them for me.  And you’ll love them.  Because love…love is the easy part, Varric.”  She didn’t wipe her eyes this time, and they stayed dry apart from a single tear that gathered in the corner and never fell.  Her eyes were back on the city, the edge of a smile on her lips.  “It’s everything else that’s hard.”

It brought up things he didn’t want to think about, not here.  Not now.  She was already going through so much, and it wasn’t like his life was ever going to get unknotted, so…what was the point?  It wasn’t about him.

It was about her.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“And miss the soiree at Lord What’s-His-Face’s?”  she asked with playful sarcasm.  Her voice lowered, bitterness creeping back in.  “Yeah.  I want to get the hell out of here.”

He pulled back and extended his hand to her, and she took it, pushing away from the railing.  Leading her out of Hightown and back to the pits and quarries, they walked side by side with the ocean crashing below, a darkness that swallowed the lights of Lowtown.  Back into the darkness; home.

In the distance, above it all, centuries-old statues of weeping slaves heralded the fate of those who dared to live and love in Kirkwall.  Pain, suffering, death.  Why had he ever thought they could escape that fate?  Why had he ever thought she could?

But even if he wanted to condemn the damn place for everything it had done to her, everything it had taken…

He couldn’t.

It was his fault, not the city; that was what had betrayed her in the end.  He’d done everything in his power to save her, to keep the world from consuming her whole, but he couldn’t do it.  In the end, it had him.  When their eyes had met for just a moment at the end, he hadn’t seen blame, or regret, or pain and suffering.  

Only love.

And so he took her burden onto his shoulders and went home to try and find a way to save her city.  It wasn’t going to be easy.  The place was rotten to the core and cleaning it up would take more than his lifetime, but damned if Varric wasn’t going to try.  Because he loved her, and she loved Kirkwall.  And Kirkwall...loved her.

He could take care of the rest.

[50cal-fullauto-astarion]

For the OC ask game 💖

10, 14 and 17 with Rivka

2, 9 and 25 with Stallard

KEZ MY BELOVED THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME 🥰🥰💖💖

Rivka:

10. What’s an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

FALLOUT AU. FALLOUT AU. FALLOUT AU. Oh good lord, any of them, really. Fallout 3? Sour unpleasant child raised in a vault with no memory of her parents, her grandmother is the vault’s Overseer, and she busts out of her own accord after she’s assigned to be the admin path to become the next Overseer. Selfishly wreaks havoc across the Capital Wasteland, picks up a dogmatically loyal Ghoul bodyguard (König, ofc), falls instantly in love with one another, and decide to fuck over the BoS who took over her parents’ work on the water purifier for their own gain.

Writing this I’m realizing I could have this au carry her through all three games hehe. New Vegas: made it across the country with their ill gotten gains, picks up courier work, ends up shot, buried, and separated from König, and the game is them both brutally tearing apart the Wasteland to get back to one another. When they reunite, it’s a whole thing. Riv has gone more than half ghoul-y bc of all the unchecked radiation in the area, and just when she thinks König will see what’s become of her and decide no, he surprises her. He’s elated—they can be together forever now. And they bring the libertarian Wunderkind Robert House back to power, with the sole intention of returning someday and violently overthrowing him to rule Vegas themselves. The only reason they don’t do that immediately is bc—

Fallout 4: the Brotherhood of Steel is back in business in Boston, Massachusetts, and there is something rotten in the state of Denmark when it comes to Synths. There’s some dickhead Sole Survivor running amok with the do-gooder Minutemen faction, Stallard something, running around with her own rotten asshole that goes by the name of Ghost, so spooky. But they aren’t doing shit-all about the Brotherhood, so Riv oh so kindly inserts herself in the situation and makes sure it goes the fuck down in flames—literally.

Then, upon returning to New Vegas, she takes her place as the leader of the independent city, improving where others had failed miserably, and protecting her claim like the cold blooded warlord she is, providing König an ultimate life of luxury. 🥰

14. How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

Ohhh this is an interesting question, because Riv doesn’t really take the perception of other people into account. She has solely lived in her own world since her parents were killed, and the only person who has ever gotten close enough to be welcomed in is König. He’s the only one that matters. For him, she wants to be a safe haven, and a soft place to crash. She wants him to look at her and know that as long as she’s alive, he’s got a home, and that he’s protected.

The world at large? Again, she doesn’t pay it any mind, but if pressed, she needs people to understand that she is capable and she is not fucking around. She is not casual, she will commit to the bit and return Someone being funny with her being hilarious.

17. What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

DFHHDG I’m a very mean creator and it’s still her parents being killed. She came home from Hebrew School to an open door and a house that reeked of blood, listening to two thugs comfort one another over their brutality, and seeing her father’s severed feet—still in black alligator skin Chelsea boots—sitting six feet away from his legs poking out around the side of the stairs. She was struck in the back of the head by one of the thugs, who further freaked out, and was beckoned by her mother to come over where she lay dying in the sitting room.

Teàrlag Zabludowicz had gotten her face bashed in by the same weapon that caved in the back of Rivka’s skull, and with her last breaths she pulled her daughter’s body under her own to hide her. Her jaw was so destroyed that her tongue lapped at Rivka’s cheek when she tried to speak comfort, and she bled into Rivka’s mouth and eyes. Rivka can still feel her mother’s tongue against her skin when she’s stressed.

Stallard:

2. What’s something about your OC that people wouldn’t expect just from looking at them?

Her favorite author is Jeanette Winterson, and she’s read Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit and Lighthousekeeping to Simon and for herself more times than she can count. She loves to sing, even if her voice is shit, and she misses her mother, even though she’s still alive. She misses her twins more than she’s ever loved her little half-sisters, but obligation would’ve had her kill herself before admitting that for decades on end. She still feels like a little girl and wishes she didn’t feel as constantly, back-breakingly lost as she always has. She’s a little old fashioned and would like to be treated like a lady more than she is. She’s dreamt of Simon so many times that she swears he’s visiting her in her sleep. At one point in her life, her greatest wish was only to marry him.

9. Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

OH BOY DO I.

The entirety of Gold Dust Woman by Fleetwood Mac is a song for Stallard, and here’s a pull from the lyrics!

As well as Marie Douceur, Marie Colère - specifically the cover by Manon Hollander. Verses in English:

25. What is your favorite thing about your OC?

Ohhh ;;;;++++++;;;; VERY good question. I love a lot of things about Stallard—how she endures, how she holds her soft vulnerabilities to her chest. But I think my favorite thing about her is that despite the fact that her rage has burned down to dead cinders over the years, after what feels like lifetimes of abuse, after the fatigue has settled in so heavily that it could kill her, she nurses a bead of compassion and kindness and patience that she could very easily let drop and die to give way completely to apathy and misanthropy.

But that’s anathema to her nature, it’s unthinkable to her to the point it literally never crosses her mind as an option. She’s got a motherly streak at her core in a most basic sense, and she cares deeply about people that fall under her purview as if they were her own, despite the fact she’ll never have children of her own, nor does she want any. But she wouldn’t be herself without it.

[turquoisebooks]

Do I agree that The Foxglove King reads a bit like YA instead of adult fantasy or with the fact that the dialogue sounds too modern for a Versailles inspired court piece? Yeah, there is a contrast between Hannah Whitten´s beautiful descriptions and how the characters spoke, and many readers may find it unbearable, but I did not pay it too much attention. On the contrary, I found the dialogue funny and refreshing. Plus, what's the point of creating a whole fantasy universe if you cannot play with how people there speak? This is not historical fiction which would have to follow all the period drama rules. Overall, I felt these things too, but it didn't stop me from enjoying it very much.

The Foxglove King is a very engaging dark fantasy with an intriguing magic system based on death magic called Mortem and life-force Spiritum, ever present poison, court debauchery, religion centered plot, a protective and bit brainwashed monk (he gets out of it, don't worry) and dark-haired prince charming (who knows how to take a punch). “Heresy,” he said, voice hoarse from shouting. “Evil!” “Melodrama.” Lore’s lips felt numb, and so did the rest of her. I thought the magic system was unique, and I enjoyed reading about that. Necromancy magic may not feel THAT special, but the way it was described here was definitely original. Just imagine a death magic wielder, who can sense death in all objects around as well as dead animals and people, and can pull the essence of death out and then give it back to revive the dead, making them essentially zombies that can be given instructions to follow. Not to forget that people of Dellaire live with a literal decaying death goddess Nyxaria underneath their city, occasionally leaking out deadly magic which the warrior-monks from Presque Mort have to stop. It was so cool! I love how Hannah Whitten works with fantasy religion and the sub-themes that it brings. “The Bleeding God knows our plight and gives us benediction to do as we must in His service.” The story also focused on the use of magic/poison to prolong one’s life and how it slowly and literally transforms greedy people into monsters. The imagery of how manipulating Mortem affected the body was amazing. I loved how dark and macabre it got. Generally, I love when the use of magic has its consequences and here it is one of the important themes, with a bonus of showing how the highborn and rich can easily circumvent the laws as far as their benefit is concerned. Yeah, this court may seem all gold and glitter, but it's actually rotten to the core. I loved Lore. She is unapologetically taking care of herself to the very end. She is thrown into the royal court to get close to the Sun Prince Bastian Arceneaux and spy on him for his father, the Sainted King August, and his uncle Anton, the Priest Exalted. To provide a cover for her, a Presque Mort monk-slash-duke Gabe returns to court to pose as her cousin helping Lore with the introduction to high society. I loved how cautious she was about all of it. “Lore was selfish. If it came down to her or the world, Lore chose herself.” Gabriel is a brooding bodyguard with an eyepatch covering one eye and a celibacy vow which does not stop him from looking at Lore as no cousin and monk should. Despite wanting to yell at him to wake up and not to believe the church and Priest Exalted so blindly, I could not help but to get to like him. The court's heir, prince Bastian, was so compelling. He's got long dark hair, tends to make dirty jokes and tends to wander around half undressed. Plus, he's got layers and I could not help but be intrigued by him. Watching him navigate the court while tending to his own plans was so much fun. I craved more scenes with him and the only thing I wish for when it comes to the next book is to get more of him. “I have been told I possess magic fingers, but the context wasn’t anything holy.” Since both of the male leads captured my interest, I did not mind the romantic triangle at the center at all. The trio of determined spy heroine, tormented monk and rebel prince works perfectly together. All three of them are reluctantly drawn in court politics and machinations in the end finding unexpected allies in one another. The suspense between them was SO exciting. They absolutely work the best when they are all together. I simply love dynamics like this one. Overall, The Foxglove King was a fast and very entertaining read for me. The ending was AMAZING! I can't wait to see where the story will go in the next installment. I am excited for the trouble our main trio will surely cause. Thank you to NetGalley and Orbit for the eARC in exchange for an honest review!

[scorching-passion]

re roche having a child ; can you tell us a bit about what he'd be like as a dad? is there any mould he wants to live up to / any particular example he wants to set to his kid? is he the 'cool dad' or does he become surprisingly strict? & if you've got anything on the mind for it cause i know you said you haven't super gone into ac yet - is there anything about bijou you'd like to share / talk about? c:

Ask me about my muse - ALWAYS ACCEPTING (Also ;o; I love you <3) (OMG this is LONG I'm sorry!!)

I may as well start from the very beginning and just tell you what I have about Bijou and her relationship with her father.

Bijou was not conceived in a conventional manner, her mother was - perhaps unfortunately depending entirely how you want to look at it - a one night stand who fell pregnant and didn't want a child, least of all with a former SOLDIER. Upon being informed of this, and the thoughts of this woman putting his kid up for adoption the moment she's dropped into the world, Roche stepped up, supported this woman and her decision on the grounds that he be granted sole custody. He never asked for anything from her, not money, not respective visitation if she didn't want it. Nothing. And he expected nothing.

Having a broken family himself (father died at a young age, mother turned to alcohol to cope with the loss and in turn neglected Roche until finally giving him up to Sector 5's orphanage after being unable to handle the plethora behaviour problems he developed as a result) he felt it the last thing he wanted for a child of his own, an accident or no.

He made her, so he took on the duty to care for her.

And true to this woman's, word Bijou was handed over and Roche was forced to learn from scratch how to take care of a baby on his own. Though let it be known that he has never experience a love as strong as what came with accepting this little girl into his life.

Of course he made some "first time dad" mistakes, certainly nothing detrimental Bijou's health or wellbeing, but things like running out of nappies/daipers and being forced to use his own shirts until he could procure more as an example. And he was forced to turn his office in the garage he ran into a nursery (a small business venture he started up upon his move to Edge City after a small stint in Junon) given that this was his only form of income. Though eventually he began to struggle to juggle his time between Bijou and his job and was forced to hire help to run the repair and modification centre -- a decision that actually did him a whole lot of good in the long run as the business gained a decent enough reputation for expansion.

Stepping up to that plate was increasingly hard, given that his entire life was now dominated by this tiny little thing when he had been such a free spirit before. Roche never sleeps in any case so the sleepless nights a new parent would usually experience were, in fact, a breeze. Though not once did he ever consider giving up, Roche was nothing at all if not resilient in his determination to make it work.

But he spoiled her rotten, toys, clothes, you name it she'd have it and usually at detriment to himself. Roche would go without food to make sure Bijou had everything and more. A classic case of a father so desperate for his child to have everything he felt he didn't. But as she started to grow into a toddler, much unlike how he was as a child, she would begin to show signs of being a very bright, polite little girl. Though quite shy in the initial throws of meeting someone new, Bijou found it increasingly easy to make friends.

In regards to discipline, Roche is quite slack though never has he been faced with a situation thus far where she needed to face a harsh punishment. Mostly her 'misbehaviour' - and we have to use the term loosely here - derives from a simple case of childlike curiosity and other typical behaviours. So rather than punish for an undesirable behaviour (rifling through his tools to play "Bike Doctors", throwing a tantrum over something silly, refusing to go to bed etc) he would attempt to educate instead. For example, if Bijou refused to go to bed at a designated time, he would remind her that was fine, but she would need to get up the following morning at the same time and if she was tired that was her own fault. Or the time she began to scream and cry in town when she wanted something and he'd told her no, so he started to scream and stamp his feet too which all but shocked her out of the throws of her tantrum. As we all know, Roche holds no bones about making a spectacle of himself in public, that doesn't change even for Bijou. These lessons were often learned exceedingly fast, and Roche's job as a father is so very easy as a result.

She's a good kid, and he isn't shy about boasting about that either.

Though it should be noted that he is quite protective and possessive over her. He had a hard time allowing other people to hold her as a baby, and he's developed an irrational (or not) wariness of women in general and dislikes them getting too close to him or his very smol family. In his eyes Bijou doesn't need a mother figure if he has the capability to be both the dad and the mom at the same time.

There's no particular 'mould' he would want to fit into, given that the only parental figures he had he can barely even remember. He's making this up as he goes, though he often got some strange looks from the women at the book shops when he was buying out all the "Mother and Baby" magazines when this responsibility was first thrust upon him. And he asks for so little in return other than for her to live her best life, away from the trauma, torment and self-loathing he'd been subjected to over the years.

And he plans to keep his past very close to his chest for a long while. He can't see any good coming from telling her that he was once a bad man who did terrible things. Everyone deserves a second chance in life, and for Roche it just so happened that chance came in the form of Bijou~

He'd die for her.

[sidecharactersdomatter]

Hi! I recently read Disenchanted rewrite and from the snippet I saw, I find it to be better than the movie. I especially love how you gave the two sisters an actual relationship with each other.

Oh my, this is really huge for my rewrite, thank you so much for your simple and really helpful feedback. While we’re at it, how about I break down the first 5 things on my fic to do list to help share why I’m rewriting Disenchanted:

I rewrote Disenchanted because I had to: This is going to be really quick, the reason I’m rewriting this sequel is because I got so pissed off by how out of character Giselle, Robert, and Morgan were depicted in the movie I couldn’t get past the first act satisfied and ended up looking at spoilers on wiki and Moderngurlz’s review. Since Disenchanted got sent to streaming and the sneak peeks ended up killing the hype, this movie never stood a chance with the Rotten Tomatoes critics and the Oscars. Hopefully, once Wish comes out this November it’ll end up avoiding the pitfalls Disenchanted ended up in. Let’s face it, no one on the Disenchanted writing team actually understood the assignment.

2. I rewrote Disenchanted’s prologue because I felt like it: Let’s just say I didn’t like the chipmunks recapping the first movie and speedrunning the whole prologue. That’s why I had Morgan and Sofie recap the first movie to make it more audibly tolerable for the readers.

3. I made Morgan the main protagonist because I felt like it: Let’s be honest, Morgan was done so dirty in the sequel, because the whole movie had Giselle be the main character (*cough* main character syndrome *cough) I really did not like how her portrayal as a stereotypical angsty teenager felt really forced and the excuse got old super fast. It also shows that nobody knew how to write an authentic teenaged character. Mirabel, Camilo, Mei, Miriam, Priya, and Abby worked because they were all given their own unique traits that made them likable to the audience, while Morgan in the first act felt pretty irritating and unoriginal. That’s why I drastically changed her personality in my rewrite.

4. I aged up Morgan’s little sister Sofia to be 6 years old because I felt like it: One of the issues of Disenchanted that ended up being executed poorly, was Giselle having a new kid, Sofia. The downside why it didn’t work out was that in the film Sofia doesn’t really impact the story since she’s just a freaking infant that doesn’t do much. The problem with writing infant characters especially under one is that they don’t really have much agency in the story and end up becoming living props.  Heck, Mayday Parker from Across the Spiderverse was a more compelling character cause she was animated really well in her own movie. Oh yeah, Across the Spiderverse works so well as a sequel because it respects its characters. More infant characters that actually work in a story are Jack Jack (Incredibles), Sunny Baudelaire (A series of unfortunate events) and Grogu (The Mandalorian) In Disenchanted, Infant!Sofie existed as a plot device just to show how tough city life(well not really to me) got for the Philips and why Giselle decided to move her family to Monroeville.  She existed as a plot device just so knockoff Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather could find someone to babysit.  She existed as a plot device just so Edward and Nancy could give her a wand.  She exists as a plot device as a true Andalasian(oh yeah spoilers that doesn’t really touched upon in the movie) to make Morgan feel inferior in her own family. Maybe they should’ve had her be played by a child actor instead of twin infants. Not only would that have given us an interesting dynamic with her older sister Morgan, but it also could have subverted the mean step sister trope, (that whole trope subversion gimmick never happens in the sequel, that’s when you know this was gonna be disappointing.). Or if they wanted the evil stepmother personality shifts to make more sense, they could’ve just had Giselle be pregnant until the end of the movie (no wait, that topic would be too sensitive for Disney to show). Or just not have a new child to keep the focus the conflict between Morgan and Giselle, not much would change. That’s why Sofie is 6 in The Fairytale of my life, and I’m going to show her dynamics with her 3 family members.

5. I gave Morgan and Sofie a really good sibling dynamic because I had to: This answers the topic above. Disenchanted is one of the prime examples that shows why a sibling age gap between a teenager and an infant does not work. One of the positive traits I wanted to give Morgan was being a good role model for her new sister and it’s going to be shown throughout my fic.

Well, I hope this satisfies your ask. I’m going to be very busy finishing Ch 2 and writing the rest of my rewrite

[you-are-my-neverland]

colour ask! for tmotl where applicable — dusty rose, blood red, and primrose yellow

thanks so much for asking!!!

Dusty Rose: Your personal favourite character in your wip

you come into my home and ask me to choose my favorite child? be serious.

...hmm, but on a more serious note in that regard, from tmotl maybe india? if only because she was the first one to really come to life in my head. and because tmotl was her story first, and therefore that means she was the one i wanted to write about. a lot of india's character comes from other characters, emotional journies, and archetypes that i love a lot. she's the flawed anti-hero, the nebulous villain, but most importantly she's a teenage girl filled with rage.

Blood Red: Favourite piece of dialogue from your wip

oooh, another hard one, since i have so much dialogue & so many words to choose from.

alright, this is one of my fave bits from tmotl (i attached the whole scene for context, but it's the last line):

“Kevla isn’t my home,” June said, rigid and unyielding. “This city abandoned us, India. It abandoned all the children like us. What do I owe it?”

India was silent. She felt tears welling in her eyes, inexplicably. Her heart hurt. Kevla abandoned me, she thought, but it also brought me back. No one else ever did that for me. No one else saved me like Kevla did. 

“Kevla is rotten to the core,” June continued. She was as close to impassioned as India thought she would ever visibly be, reminding India of the times June had opened up before, the anger burning like a bright, cold, distant star in her eyes. “You can’t fix Kevla. All you can do is remove some of the damage.”

Would it stop at just one Benefactor? It wouldn’t end with Catrin. Catrin had never been the evil June thought her to be, and even if India admitted that Catrin was an evil, it was the lesser of a magnitude of much, much worse evils. 

“Do you think I don’t know that?” India asked, voice smaller now. “You spent more than half your life locked away, June. You didn’t live here, you just grew up here. I’m the one who spent time in the orphanages. The one who lost shit to floods, and spent time on these streets. I’ve been out in this city a lot longer than you have. I know it’s rotten. I know it’s ugly. But if you leave it be, all it will do is get worse. I might not be able to fix it, but I can stop the damage before it happens. That’s what us vigilantes do. But what you did is like tearing down a dam. You’re causing a flood. A hurricane. Kevla can’t protect itself from this.”

June’s brow was knitted together. She felt very far away from India, even though they were too close. India felt helpless all of a sudden. They didn’t understand each other. She wasn’t even sure if she could understand herself. How did you explain that Kevla was alive to someone who didn’t already know it, who didn’t already believe it?

June might have grown up next to India, but she had spent the majority of her life in white rooms within The Organization. It wasn’t her fault, but her actions had consequences she couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“Good,” June said quietly, after a long second. Her voice rose with the wind.

“Good,” India echoed flatly. She felt like an echo chamber, only able to repeat back what June said.

“Maybe Kevla needs a flood,” June said. “Maybe Kevla needs a hurricane.”

and then here's a little bit of dialogue from the wip i'm working on right now (which is still untitled):

“I used to think I knew you better than anyone else,” Irene said. 

“That’s a lie,” Lev replied instantly, the ferocity of it surprising both of them. She could tell in the way he drew back slightly, expression turning guarded and wary. He didn’t elaborate, but Irene had already absorbed the hit like a jab to her pulse point, with instantaneous pain and reaction.

“You’re right,” she said, looking away and pulling her hands closer to her. “I never understood you.”

“I know,” Lev said flatly, the emotion draining from his face.

Primrose Yellow: What’s your least favourite genre to write?

i'm not super into straight romcom/slice of life, as i like to have something at least a little hefty in there. historical fiction is not always my vibe, since i think it requires a lot of knowledge i'm not interested in investing it. i also don't really like straight scifi, although i sometimes explore elements of it.

[syncopation53]

I know I talk (a lot) about fireteam buckaroos being so edgy and loners who don’t like working together and kai and caoilinn have taken over my brain with their whole Thing but an aspect about the buckaroos I don’t talk about very much is the relationship between devon and kelli which is sort of the one genuinely positive thing the team has going for them and the first thing I came up with when making more ocs that aren’t connected to the phoenixes, just for fun

They’re inseparable from each other, from the simple fact of living in the same time and place in their first lives to finding each other and ensuring their dual survival against raiders and thieves and kidnappers and maulers that tear something away from each of them and yet they grit their teeth and keep living anyways, how trusting the other to watch their backs becomes effortless and second nature, to traveling through hostile lands as mortals alone but together in their dream of reaching a safe haven of a city full of people and brimming with life, to fulfilling that dream together until the very end, until death claimed them both at once, side by side, until they were resurrected again, and found each other again, and stayed together again, and fought side by side again, and live within each other again

“Every atom of me and every atom of you” “I will look for you in every lifetime” “whatever our souls are made of his and mine are the same” “I think we deserve a soft epilogue my love” “I’ll take care of you / it’s rotten work / not to me not if it’s you” etc etc etc

[shy-the-schizophrenic]

I don't know how to deal with all of this alone. I don't have family anymore. I'm the loneliest I've ever been in my whole life. With my mortality hanging over my head. No one to talk to. No one who wants to listen to my grievances and my worries about my future and health. I just want to cry to someone and tell them I'm scared to die. I want a family moment where we all apologize and vow to be in eachothers lives. That the past is forgiven because we were all kids. We all grew up in the same home. With the same family. Yet there's no empathy. No understanding. My sister is battling similar health problems. I'm scared. I can't lose her. Not for good. She was the glue to our family. Shes the only family I have. But she's numb to life. Specifically my life. Because of my brain, I'm all alone. I can't have meaningful, long relationships. I'm almost 30 and I'm already on my way out. With no one by my side. No one is in my life permanently. When I lose my mind, shit my pants. Who will be there next to me comforting me. Holding my hand while I spit nasty words at them. No one who will see past my deteriorating brains vile attempts to push them away. They just accept my leaving. The thought of my absence is peaceful for them. No more drama, tears and angry lashouts. I'm just a a burden to everyone. They want to love me. They want to help. But they don't put in the work to love me in the way I require. Why can't I just be a healthy functional adult? Why has my entire life been just this? And it has to end in an even more distressing way. I don't understand why fought so hard for life. To fight the suicidal thoughts. I fought for this? This was the "Better" I told myself I'd get to everyday? I told myself I was going to give myself the beautiful life I deserve. But that's not how life works. Not in my book. That's not how it ends. Every ketamine treatment, acid trip, my "reality checks". They all showed me my life. What's been written out already. I've always known I'd die young. By suicide. I never assumed it could be syphilis. I always thought I'd eventually meet the right man. We would leave this rotten city behind. Start over in a small town. Have a simple life. Get a dog. Adopt or have kids. I wanted to be a mom. I would have been an amazing mom... I would have been an amazing wife. I never got to get married. Be a bridesmaid. Have my own baby shower. Have a job for longer than a year. Live somewhere on my own for a year. Have a 1 year anniversary with someone besides my ex fiance. I haven't gotten to experience anything. Real, true love.

[heirofhermes]

VERSES

Age: 21 Location: New Jersey, or any major city in the U.S. / Canada Goals: to graduate with flying colors as a history major so he can go to Law School. Tag: v:look at my name in black and white; your son is doing something right

Sebastián gave up on México, knowing it wasn’t the place he had to be if he expected to bring a revolution to the Order of Hermes. He packed his bags and enrolled himself into a prestigious college where he managed to obtain a full scholarship (usually Princeton). He spends his days as a History student and his nights as a Quaesitor of the Order, trying to balance his academics with his mage responsibilities.

Age: 34 Location: New York (or any major city) Goals: to become Primus of the Order of Hermes in the city. Tag: v:what if I change the world? If I lead the way?

Somehow he managed to live up to his own expectations. With time and training, Sebastián made a place for himself in the Order of Hermes. His diplomatic approach to relations with other factions helped strengthen his group and his never ending crusade to expose corruption led the Order to get rid of a few rotten apples that were contaminating the whole tree. As the leader of his circle is starting to consider her retirement, she’s expected to name a successor soon and Sebastián’s achievements and reputation are enough for him to be considered as a possible candidate for it.

Age: 21 Location: New York Goals: to become a full fledged Avenger Tag: v:the problem is I gotta lot of brain but no polish

Sebas was a prodigy at magic, but his training was sadly interrupted because he was one of the victims of Thanos’ snap. After the ‘blip’ was reversed, he joined the Endgame battle and  his performance was remarkable enough to get Steve Roger’s attention. One of the leader’s final acts before disappearing in time was to recruit him to become a part of the new generation of heroes. Ever since, Sebas has spent his days trying to master his own power to finally earn the title of Avenger.

Age: 33 Location: New York Goals: to become master and guardian of the New York Sanctum Tag: v:always gonna be an uphill battle

The world has seen enough chaos because of the irresponsible use of magic. As a prestigious sorcerer, Sebastián spends his days trying to reinstall some sense of structure within their magical society, and that starts by prosecuting those who have endangered the world by their irresponsible use of their power. Currently he’s building a case against dr. Stephen Strange for the calamity-level spell he casted during Spiderman: no way home and the poor way he handled the events of Multiverse of Madness. No mage as selfish and reckless should be the master of any Sanctum, let alone New York’s, and he’s going to prove it.

Age: 21-34 Location: Markham Goals: to help his fellow mages by the design and reconstruction of a better kind of Circle of Magi Tag: v:been dealing with devils from the start of a young teenage age

The Circle of Magi is an institution that sparks a lot of debate. Sebastián believes Circles are necessary but need urgent restructuration. He believes and actively works on the creation of a Circle by mages and for mages, without templar or chantry intervention. He believes in a Circle that’s a school instead of a prison, which is exactly what he’s attempting to create at his hometown of Markham. However, his political crusade came to a halt with the assault of Corypheus, as he and another couple of mages from his circle were sent to help the Inquisition in the battle for Thedas’ future.

Age: 21 Location: New Jersey (or any major city) Goals: to become a great lawyer Tag: v:I’m too busy loving my name up on that list

Sebastián’s life was never graced with magic, which means thriving has been twice as hard. Alas, his mind was bright enough for him to get a scholarship to Princeton (or any major college). He’s studying history and politics, trying to pave his way to Law School and fulfill his dreams of becoming a great lawyer. Most of his time is spent studying, but he also spends quite a few hours of his week working at a Starbucks for some extra cash to help him through the month.

Age: 34 Location: New York (or any major city) Goals: to fight off corruption in his city’s political landscape Tag: v:not gonna be just a part of their game

Our little genius made all the right calls in life: he went to the right school, met the right people, bet on the right causes. He built a good reputation for himself and fought to prove his worth to this uncaring world. Now, in his adult years, he’s a senior lawyer for Skadden who works white collar cases. This proximity to high society made him aware of a chain of corruption sitting in the offices of Town Hall, and he’s determined to weed it out through legal action no matter if it endangers his very own employment.

Age: 17-18 Location: any major city Goals: to earn a scholarship for a prestigious college Tag: v:no puedo ni respirar

Always be hustling is a life motto for this young Sebastián, who gives it his all both in class and in magical training. Everybody has high expectations of him, so he can’t let them down. Hopefully no turmoil will come to burst the fake image of the perfect kid who has it all together. His anxiety is, after all, still within manageable levels… But who knows for how long.

[flut-flut]

YO OKAY BUT THE REST OF THEIR STARTER? FUUUUCK THEY GIVE DAXTER SO MUCH CHARACTER AUGH I LOVE THEIR DAXTER SO MUCH I WILL DIE FOR HIM

Daxter scurried through the pipe with the ease of a slick turd. His paw reached out and snagged the grate that he would have to pry open as the questionable liquid around him tried to sweep him away. He held fast, his dexterous feet gripping the oddly warm metal as he got to work clipping the grate away. Once there was a space big enough, he squeezed his pack through first. Then himself and climbed up the corrugated metal. His sharp nails tapping as he hurried. It had been two. Lonely, terrifying years. In those two years, the Ottsel had to go through a crash course on living in Haven City. Living, for the most part off of stale bread from the slums bakery and half rotten fruit from similar colorful locations. Most of not all of the small rodent's time had been spent trying to get information on Jak, where was he? Why had he been arrested? Hell. How did they know where to find him? He was thankful for his small size in, most regard. Having found it easy to easedrop and worm his way stealthily into places. Though he cursed it in others. Being shooed violently from shops, seen as nothing more than a rat. The first night had been the worst in his life… The rain had pelted down and no one would take him in. He wound up finding a broken pot to cower under… He shoved those thoughts from his mind as he came to what he hoped to be the last grate. There was a faint purplish glow illuminating the opening, Daxter approached and was both horrified and enraged. Nearly blowing his cover as rage bubbled up in his chest. -- Errol growled down at the Eco freak on the table. The disoriented expression on his face made his stomach roll and his fists clenched. He snarled. Finally cutting the machine off and shaking his head. "No change. Baron. At this rate my men are as good as dead! Without a new weapon, we are cooked!" He slit his eyes glaring down at the freak. "what do you suggest we do sir? We don't have anymore time to waste on this…. Thing." He spat over at his favorite prisoner. Looking back up to his commander. Praxis sneered down to the failure as well his rough hand lifting to his scarred cheek then to scratch at his beard. "Damn it…. I was told this one was different.." he growled reaching down and snatching the beasts shirt and shaking him roughly. "With as much dark eco I've put in you, you should be dead!" He tossed Jak back into the gurney and sliced his hand through the air in irritation. "Scrap the whole project. Clean the whole record. This never happened." He commanded shaking his head and balling his fists into tight hammers. "And what about him?" Errol asked with a dark hum. The Baron shook his head again. "Kill it. And burn the body. I want no trace of him. I have a meeting, I expect you to get this cleaned up promptly." The larger man said before huffing off out of the room. Errol waited to hear the airlock open and hiss shut before he leaned over the prisoner. His hand laid on his thigh. He gave a tight squeeze and smirked. "I also have a few things to do before I get to deal with you. Eco freak. I'll be back for you tonight."

Edit: they edited it because they forgot they were also playing Praxis LMFAO

so irt the rp my partner and I are doing, we decided to backtrack and start at the beginning of Jak 2 -

this was their opening line I am dead LMFAO

"Daxter scurried through the pile with the ease of a slick turd."

[ryuuaka713]

Bungou Stray Dogs Dead Apple: “You used corruption, believing in me? How Beautiful.” A “DISSECTION” OF THE SCENE

I mentioned before in one of the posts by @nataliaphantomhivesblog​, where we were discussing about the corruption scenes in BSD, that the scene in Dead Apple is my favorite. So, I decided (like any SKK trash) to make an “analysis” of that scene, just to make a point why I like it the most compared to the other corruption scenes (as if this post is the definition of being productive like I’ll just wasting my time rambling here LOL)

I divided this post into two parts. Part 1 is the more difficult one where I am attempting to write some “character analysis”. While Part 2 is more about how the scene is composed (it’s pretty boring. I’m sorry)

I will NOT include the infamous Lap scene (I know. I know. We all love that moment. But I would rather focus on the scenes before that).

Side note: I do not specialize in film or literary critique, so really this whole post is just for fun. Thus, why I put quotes on the analysis. Take this is as my personal opinion where I’m attempting to make sense by making it sound “fancy”.

But anyway. Here it goes:

In every Corruption scene, the thematic notion is always Trust—as in Chuuya trusts Dazai well enough to use his ability so long as he is present to nullify it. It is a very life-threatening process, especially for Chuuya since Corruption, despite being one of the most powerful abilities, can cause self-destruction the longer he uses it. So, Dazai should keep a close watch on him at all times, and then even giving him a sense of comfort to compensate to Chuuya’s worn-out body and for his efforts. This is the same trajectory in all 5 episodes of Corruption, but out of all of them, what stood out the most (for me) is the scene from Dead Apple. 

This scene has amazed me ever since I first watched the movie. And while it just shows their infinite trust, the whole execution of this scene evokes more than just that thematic concept. What I see in this scene is something that all of us have already witnessed, but there is something unique in the way Dazai nullifies Chuuya’s corruption, and their dialogue may be just them bantering and yet, their tonality is different. It is as if, we just touched a moment that is reserved only for these two and we just happened to have the privilege to witness it. In other words, there is a sort of familiarity (or intimacy) and gentleness going on at this very moment—it is cathartic. This is what I want to look into—like how did we come to this?

PART 1: His Proper Partner.

In the Japanese version, ever since the episode where Chuuya made his first debut, they call themselves “aibou” (相棒), referring to a one-on-one partnership. While “nakama” (仲間)can also refer to a partner, it has a different connotation in which the closest English equivalent of that term would be “comrade” or “acquaintance”. The closest English equivalent of “aibou” is, to no one’s surprise, “partner” (or “pal”). And it makes sense, considering that the first kanji (相) can mean “mutual”, “together”, or “each other”. So, to have Dazai and Chuuya referring to themselves as that, it just manifests their familiarity on each other.

And in their case, their “familiarity” is both their advantage and disadvantage. It is a “disadvantage” because they use it to get on each other’s nerves (both in comedic and serious situations).

However, it also serves to their advantage, especially when they have to cooperate in the battlefield. This comes into light in the Lovecraft Episode where they executed Operation Shame and Toad—Chuuya acknowledges Dazai’s tactical mentality, whereas Dazai (as he referenced Chuuya’s mastery in martial arts) let’s his partner do the grunt work. Interesting enough, this is the same episode we first see Chuuya’s Corruption (but not the first time he uses it).

Using Corruption stipulates that “familiarity”, especially in Dazai’s part who has to be present to monitor Chuuya’s physical state, therefore he is aware, not just the consequence in using Corruption, but also of Chuuya’s limit. This explains why Dazai declares that he is aware of Chuuya’s moves and “breathing pattern”, otherwise, as what he himself says, he “won’t be a proper partner”.

What is witnessed in the Lovecraft Episode is the standard protocol that Soukoku uses when they are at their last resort. So, it is not a surprise that we get to witness Chuuya using Corruption, again, when he saves Dazai in Dead Apple, except it is done differently.

Even though Dazai is ten steps ahead of the enemy, the situation is still risky and even more complicated in Chuuya’s part since he is using his ability WITHOUT Dazai present. And that he has to save Dazai first before he can get it nullified. With that being said, it requires a careful approach, one in which they know the other’s moves—Dazai knows too well how Chuuya would react. For instance, the manga version of Dead Apple demonstrates how Soukoku communicates in their operation using “codes”. As such when Dazai got himself kidnapped, no one knew about his whereabouts until Hirotsu mentions about Dazai buying a microscope (to which it leads them to a dead end). However, Chuuya—upon remembering that Dazai teases that he needs a microscope in order to see him—demands to see that microscope, breaks it, and finds the transmitter. It is a well-planned strategy in Dazai’s part where all it takes is to leave helpful clues for Chuuya to pick up and catalyze the operation. In the Dead Apple movie, he does it again:

Indeed, for the audience, it is not new to see Dazai planning ahead and having ulterior motives behind his actions. It is not new to see Chuuya executing his plans and understands his motives either. But seeing these two working together despite those four years of absence, and without physically communicating is beyond human comprehension. Almost like the microscope scene, Dazai is not there to directly tell him about his plan. Chuuya doesn’t know about the antidote until that punch as his only “clue” is that Dazai is working alone, so he sees that something is amiss.

Seeing the critical state of Yokohama, Chuuya knows that he will use Corruption, but seeing Dazai’s corpse, it gives this uncertainty on whether they can make it out alive or not. And yet, what did Chuuya do? He jumped off the plane and activates his ability, knowing that there is “no time to chicken out” or else Dazai’s plan won’t work, and they’ll end up dead. Even if it means doing the job to protect the city, it still takes guts for Chuuya to work and place his life on someone he “hates”. Despite those 4 years of absence, the scene in Dead Apple just manifests that they never doubt each other’s capabilities. And to further validate this, let’s check out their dialogue:

           Dazai: You used Corruption, believing in me? How beautiful.

           Chuuya: Yeah I did. I believe in your disgusting vitality and craftiness.

           Dazai: That was a somewhat violent way to wake up Snow White.

           Chuuya: Tch. You’re the one who hid an antidote your mouth knowing I would punch you.          

Not only does this scene perfectly parallels to the Lovecraft episode where we see Soukoku bantering while still in a critical situation, it also emphasizes the degree of their trust and how that trust has taken root from their familiarity.

Dazai: You used Corruption, believing in me? How beautiful.

Chuuya: Yeah I did. I believe in your disgusting vitality and craftiness.

Dazai’s first line is the main idea of their partnership, echoing Chuuya’s quote from the Lovecraft episode: “I used Corruption because I trust you”. This is a vital aspect in their relationship since it has been stated before in Fifteen and Stormbringer that “no one has trusted Dazai”… until Chuuya comes into the picture. Ever since their first teamwork against Rimbaud, Dazai finally has someone he can rely on both in strength and assurance, even smiling at the fact that Chuuya doesn’t even deny his proposal but merely asks for his reason.

With that being said, then it is appropriate for Dazai to say that line, touched by the idea that Chuuya still constantly trusts him. It just reminisced so much from what they have as children that it seems to this day, they never forgotten about it.

On the other hand, in Chuuya’s end, he confirms that trust and provides a reason, which is appropriate since Chuuya is Dazai’s “reason-living” like in Fifteen:

Chuuya’s line—“I believe in your disgusting vitality and craftiness”—is very similar in the excerpt from Fifteen, and this just shows how that line from the movie indicates his familiarity to Dazai. By “familiarity”, I mean that he knows his partner’s mental process and motives (as I have mentioned above). In this case, it seems like Chuuya has seen something that he and Dazai have in common: the desire to live. Of course, the latter always craves for death, but with his new viewpoint on Death, his mission in fulfilling Oda’s wish, and the fact that he is tethered to someone who wished to live, Dazai just couldn’t die. And Chuuya, being his constant companion, knows this. This is why Chuuya “believes” that whatever plan Dazai has on mind, it will always work, and in the scenario in Dead Apple it starts by taking a leap into Corruption—which is ironically, the very thing that could kill Chuuya, and by extent, would cause Dazai’s death if the plan is not well-thought or if they don’t work together. By referring to his “vitality and craftiness”, Chuuya is acknowledging his familiarity on Dazai, admitting their “rotten relationship”, and justifying his trust on him.

Dazai: That was a somewhat violent way to wake up Snow White.

Chuuya: Tch. You’re the one who hid an antidote your mouth knowing I would punch you.

Another interesting thing I find in the dialogue is Dazai’s line: “That was a somewhat violent way to wake up Snow White”. Fans think that this is Dazai flirting, where he is implying that he wants to be kissed by Chuuya the same way the prince does to Snow White. For me, I think this little dialogue is more than just fanservice since it makes sense, not only in the context of the movie containing motifs of a “poisoned” apple. I think the reference of the fairytale in this dialogue not only foreshadows his “death”, but it also highlights their dynamic whenever they work together with Dazai acting childish and Chuuya knowing that he is actually being serious (or the fact that he cracks some jokes in most Post-Corruption scenes). This is still related to the whole “familiarity” theme that I have been rambling about; as mentioned before, Dazai and Chuuya would use whatever they know about each other just to rile each other up. These moments are generally meant for comedic effect, but these teasing and bickering can serve as their advantage.

Similar to the microscope scene I have mentioned, Dazai makes that microscope comment seem like a childish joke on the surface, however, Chuuya picks this up as a clue and sees his real motive. This kind of synergy is seen again in the prologue of the movie where Dazai jokes about Chuuya getting hit by bullets when he is in close range of the enemy, and yet, the latter takes it as a warning that an ability-user is nearby. We really don’t know if Dazai leaves a Snow White-related clue for Chuuya before the events in Dead Apple (it would have been pretty cool tho), but that dynamic in the microscope incident and prologue is very similar to that dialogue we see in the movie: Dazai is being playful, but Chuuya sees and calls out his ulterior motives. This is how Soukoku works!

PART 2: The Art of Catharsis

The relationship of Soukoku in the battlefield is one of the best teamwork we have seen in the anime. Both parties are synchronized in the way that Dazai’s brains and No Longer Human, and Chuuya’s fighting skills and Corruption perfectly compliment each other. Moreover, we also see the basis of that partnership, and this is something that the creators want to highlight in this scene (in other words, how did the animators deliver this dynamic?)

In my opinion, I think the words “gentleness” and “cathartic” fit in this scene. To start off, before this moment takes place, we have witnessed Chuuya fighting the Dragon.

That scene was intense! Chuuya activates Corruption, generates into pure destruction with him yelling Dazai’s name (despite the fact that he is not supposed to be in a proper mindset). The way this scene plays out is interesting; in the shot, we see the two main figures (the Dragon and Chuuya) mostly in red—which is a very vibrant color—in contrast to the blue and green background. By using the color that pops out, the attention is on them, and it is topped with the amount of action in that moment. Not to mention, the background music, containing a rock music and a rap, elevates that energy. It is a scene that heightens the adrenaline, so the audience can empathize with Chuuya—understanding him as a character that is full of life, and also his hastiness to kill it before he runs out of time.

When that fight is over, we notice that the music alters into a string orchestra. This is a very good change because the tempo is slower—a direct contrast to the rap music—as if it is slowly bringing the audience down from the hype in the fighting scene the same way Chuuya slowly goes down and hovers Dazai’s body. The music immediately stops right on cue when the punch happens, then the audience is left in silence. Usually in films, silence is used for the purpose of anticipation. In this case, the anticipation is placed on whether Chuuya’s punch and/or the pill worked and saved Dazai.

The transition from the white background into a blue background should indicate that Dazai is alive. And yet, the animators did this subtly rather than showing Dazai’s face (like in Season 1 episode 1), just so the audience is still in the state of anticipation (add that with the white noise in the background). Furthermore, there is a fairytale quality in that shot, like this is similar to when Sleeping Beauty (in this case “Snow White”) wakes up, that’s when the colors in the castle come back.

Getting close to that iconic shot, I love how the animators keep the “camera” in the same place (Chuuya’s face), that way we can further empathize with Chuuya by seeing a close shot of his state: he was at his limit! But as soon as the blood starts moving away from the screen, we can see a bandaged hand moving to his face. And then, finally!

Words cannot describe how much I appreciate the details of that scene, especially on Dazai’s gesture. He moves his hand slowly but quick enough to nullify him right on time. Not to mention, he does not just touch his cheek but rather cups it (look at the shape of his hand!). One can say that the gentleness in Dazai’s gesture is the exact opposite to Chuuya’s punch, and this sort of contrast further highlights the catharsis in this scene. In other words, after all of that intensity with the fight and seeing Chuuya’s bloody state, it is relieving to see that familiar hand touching him, indicating that Chuuya can rest. And seeing that we witnessed and empathize with him, we know what it feels like.

With that being said, that’s why the third shot above where the hand is fully placed on his cheek and he made a short gasp is my personal favorite. It is the contrast in Chuuya’s face where we can still see “Corruption”, and Dazai’s hand to which he activates “No Longer Human”. I have seen some people complaining about how they want to see Dazai’s face in this scene; personally, I think this scene is animated brilliantly as it is. It is only fair to see a close up of Dazai’s hand to indicate that he is nullifying “Corruption”, after all, “No Longer Human” is works through touch. To top it off, the beauty in “not seeing the face” is more powerful because it leaves more to the imagination—we don’t know specifically what kind of face Dazai is making, but the way that hand moves alone is enough to tell us what he is thinking at that moment. And finally, upon contact, we see Chuuya making a slight twitch—this is when Corruption recognizes No Longer Human and deactivates. This is when Chuuya recognizes that familiar touch and knows that his partner is finally awake, so he can finally rest.

Then we have that iconic shot! Like the one I mentioned above, the camera stays in one place, only this time, it is a long shot, so the focus is on them (thus they are on the middle). Interesting enough, there is no background music in this scene, and we can’t see their expressions. Usually, in this anime, when a character is seen faceless, in order to determine what they are thinking are feeling, the animators would usually make them do a gesture or a dialogue.

In this scene, where everything is silent and their faces “unseen”, our focus goes to their exchanges. Both Mamoru and Taniyama use their “bedroom voices”, and I think it is appropriate considering that their dialogue contains a deeper meaning in regards of their relationship. In other words, as mentioned before, it may seem like another day of bantering, but with their tone, there is something sincere and intimate in what they are saying. Also, the playfulness in Dazai’s comment and Chuuya’s response hits different compared to their other moments of constant yelling. You really don’t need the close up of their faces in order to see that they are at peace in each other’s company.

In addition, the color scheme of the scene is predominantly blue, which makes sense, not just because of Dazai’s ability, but also because it highlights the serenity in the scene. The blue color, the orb, and the bandages that glide silently are animated in a way that they buffer out the red that we have seen back with Corruption, and also indicates a sense of “protection” (which is later seen in the lap scene when Dazai has to protect Chuuya from the fog). In short, the ambiance perfectly fits with how Dazai is there to give Chuuya a sense of comfort in Post-Corruption, letting him rest so that he can compensate for all that he did.

**********

The scene in Dead Apple is something that lies in between of the familiar and the new—we have seen Dazai and Chuuya in this situation before, we know how they function as a team, and we know the level of risk they are taking. But this is something that we have never seen before; like subtleness in his gestures, the softness in their tones, and the fact that these two are in a position where they are saving each other, which becomes part of their instincts. They show how much they trust each other by knowing how much they knew of each other. They acknowledge the fact that their fates are tethered regardless of the years of absence. And finally, it is not just the Prince saving Snow White, but rather: the Prince saves Snow White and Snow White saving him in return.

OK, I just literally fried my brain. If you’ve read this far, I thank you so much for your time! I am so sorry if this is too long. I welcome for any critiques or discussions. So yeah, that’s my ted-talk