#i've admittedly only heard a handful of songs

[supermaliciousmoi]

"Oh- uh, just one more thing, sir..."

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Stan LOOΠΔ."

*Girl Front plays*

[reidmoony-toast]

Strawberry Wine. ౨ৎ

"If I was empty space, and you were a formless shape we'd fit"

Spencer x fem singer!reader

The two times they miss each other, and the one time they don't

content: no use of y/n, fluff, pining galore

cw: lil suggestive? (She sings Chappell Roan)

wc: 2.4k

an: I've been cooking this up for a while, but life has been super busy, so I haven't yet finished the other parts. I'm very sorry if they take a few weeks to finish :[ Anyways, hope you enjoy! <3

| pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | series masterlist ౨ৎ

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He really wished he wasn’t here. He never should have begrudgingly agreed to Penelope’s crazy plans, no matter how much she bugged him about it. This was about as far opposite to his kind of thing that you could get.

The lights were bright–unbearably so; flashing so much he feared he would have an epileptic episode (if it weren’t for the small fact that he didn’t actually have epilepsy, but he digressed).

The large room was also deafening, filled with fans, all of them buzzing in anticipation. Penelope was not an exception–she bounced up and down like a rogue ball, shrieking in excitement close to every thirty seconds. He would know. He had been counting.

Although he would rather be at the very back (if he had to choose anywhere in this wretched place), Penny had physically forced him into the very front row, only a barrier separating them from the stage.

He didn’t know and definitely didn’t want to know how Penelope had acquired such tickets and at such short notice before the show. He had found that he was better living in ignorance of the borderline illegal habits of his best friend.

He had just endured half an hour of what Penny had called the ‘openers’. He was dismayed to hear that the performance was not the actual concert; he learnt that the hard way when he had asked Penelope if they could leave, which she replied to with a cackle, stating that the band that had just exited the stage was, in fact, not the main event of the evening.

He had buried his face in his hands and let out a loud groan. He only had himself to blame for being caught up in the ‘Garcia puppy eyes’ trap, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t whinge at least a little bit–or a lot bit.

He didn’t know much about this singer girl, only that Penelope was obsessed with her, bringing her up in conversation many a time. He admitted that he often didn’t fully (if at all) listen when Garcia gushed over her–he seemed to always zone out.

He had never properly heard her songs, only in passing when Penelope would blast music in her cave, and he didn’t even have a clue what she looked like.

He was mentally preparing himself for the next few gruelling hours, with Penny jumping up and down beside him, when the lights dimmed, sending the whole room into a frenzy.

He winced at the screaming and whooping coming from all around him. Smoke machines started emitting mist, covering the stage and fogging up the colourful lights. The crowd continued to roar, Penelope squealing next to him and gripping the railing of the barrier.

A figure emerged through the haze, the silhouette showing locks of hair cascading over their shoulders, clad in a silk slip dress that ended at the mid thigh, hugging their curves.

They started singing–a smooth, silky voice wrapped around him, making the room suddenly feel more bearable. He swallowed hard. The singing was beautiful. Sweet and rich, wrapping around him like a cosy blanket.

He raised his eyebrows with pleasant surprise. It was, admittedly, not bad in the slightest. He hated to say it, but he was enjoying it, a lot. More than he should, given that it was new-age pop, not the refined tones of classical music–his favourite genre by far.

All thoughts of music flew out of his head as the owner of the angelic voice stepped into the stage lights, allowing him to properly see her for the first time. His breath left his body as he took her in.

She was gorgeous, stunning–almost ethereal, as her other-worldy voice filled his cochlea, transmitting electrical signals through his nerve pathways to his primary auditory cortex.

Her hair shone in the light, giving her a halo of the highest grade, her bright lips curled into a perfect smile around her words, and her eyes shone with a million glinting stars.

He was utterly enamoured by her–every facial expression, every movement she made, every note she sang was all absorbed thoroughly by his wide eyes.

In no time at all, the first song was over, finishing with loud cheering and clapping from the audience. The angel grinned out at the sea of fans, soaking up the feeling.

Unlike Spencer, she was well and truly in her element, looking as though there was not where else in the world she would rather be.

He gazed in open-mouthed awe at the way she floated effortlessly about the stage–and, of course, that breathtaking smile that scrunched her nose and revealed the prettiest dimples he had ever seen.

He was snapped back to reality with a sharp poke in the side from Penelope, centering his gravity away from the girl on stage and back to where he stood.

“What?” He said loudly, an exasperated look adorning his face as he tore his eyes back to his best friend. She was smirking at him, arms crossed in front of herself.

“You have such a thing for her, I’m surprised you're not drooling right now,” she answered mockingly. He scoffed, dismissing her words with a wave of his hands as he faced the stage again, not wanting to miss a moment of the show. He heard Garcia laugh deeply at his half-hearted denial.

All thoughts of Penelope soon left his mind as the heaven-sent saint started to sing again, striking chords in his heart at every note.

The song came and went again, and Spencer wished they would not go by so fast, so he could see her for as long as possible.

The next song started with a more upbeat track, and the angel laughed, running back down stage, scarily close to where Spencer stood. “She was a, Playboy, Brigitte Bardot,” she started to sing, “She showed me things, I didn't know.”

She stuck out her tongue playfully, shaking her hips, making the satin fabric hugging her curves sway.

“She did it right there, out on the deck,” she bit down on her bottom lip as Spencer’s face heated, realising what the song was about. “Put her canine teeth in the side of my neck.”

She gestured with her fingers to a spot on her neck, pretending as if her fingers were the teeth, tipping her head back with imaginary ecstasy. He swallowed heavily, face hot.

“I'm in the hallway waitin' for ya,” she sang, “Mini skirt and my go-go boots,” on those lyrics, she bent over, running her free hand from her heeled boots and up her legs, jutting her ass out.

Spencer’s mouth fell open in shock. He had never felt like this from only a few minutes of meeting someone, let alone just laying his eyes on them. This was completely out of the ordinary for him, and it left him reeling.

~☆~

Songs flitted by like the butterflies in his stomach, and his gaze was permanently fixated on the captivating women centre-stage. He couldn't tear his eyes away even if he tried–and he most definitely didn't.

A new song started, fading in with a catchy guitar riff, and the crowd went wild, sparking a wide smile on the angel’s face.

The drum beat started, and she strutted down the stage, tipping her head back and shaking her smooth curls out in the dim lights before she began to sing. “Midnight,” she dragged out the end of the word.

“Come and pick me up, no headlights,” she blew a kiss to the fans in front of her, winking as she made her way down the stage towards where Spencer was situated.

Penelope grasped his arm tighter and tighter as she neared, buttery voice washing over him.

“Watch us go ‘round and ‘round each time,” she stretched out the note, rolling her head to the side, eyes landing exactly where Spencer was standing. He froze, dumbstruck, as he locked eyes with her.

He gulped heavily as a cheeky grin adorned her face, soft lips framing perfectly white teeth. She straightened up, continuing the lyrics as she floated even closer to him, never breaking eye contact.

“You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye,” She knelt down on the stage in front of Spencer. His breathing stuttered as his gaze remained on her, utterly entranced.

“And I got that red lip classic thing that you like,” she dragged her thumb across her lip, singing to him through a happy, if not slightly teasing, smile.

“‘Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style,” He could see her mouth curving around each syllable as she sang into the microphone, eyes still, somehow, on him.

He most definitely looked like an idiot in that moment, with his flushed cheeks and slack-jawed awe of the ethereal woman only a few feet away, but he didn't have it in himself to care.

She had seen him, and not only that, she had actually come over and sat, right there on the stage in front of him. No matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, she was–without question–looking, and singing, straight at him.

She leaned impossibly closer, leaving only a few inches between their two faces as she crooned the words into the microphone. His eyes flicked across the features of her face before they settled on her own.

Up close, they were mesmerising– long, thick lashes framed bright irises, sparkling with the light of the night sky– he could almost map out the constellations he knew off by heart from the incandescent twinkles in her eyes.

“You got that long hair, slicked back-” She moved her free hand to hover over the collar of Spencer's shirt, seemingly asking silent consent to touch him.

He shook out of his trance long enough to nod vigorously. She let out a short chuckle, grabbing his collar and carefully but firmly pulling him closer by his shirt. “-white T-shirt.”

His breath hitched as hers ghosted his lips with every exhale, noses almost touching, with hardly any room for the microphone as his heart raced impossibly faster.

“And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt.” At that, she pulled away, letting go of his collar as she leaned back to run her free hand over her skirt, smirking at Spencer and his flaming-red face.

“And when we go crashing down, we come back every time,” she repeats, still serenading him. “'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style!” She finally stood, winking and blowing a kiss at a thoroughly flustered Spencer as she strutted to another part of the stage.

Spencer stood there, dumbfounded. He couldn't believe she had not only noticed him, but also sang right to him. His shirt was crumpled from where she had gripped it, but he didn't dare fix it. If possible, he would never smooth the rumpled fabric if it meant he could have a reminder of her always.

A rough shake of his shoulder brought him back to the present, Penelope standing astonished next to him, incredulous smile playing on her lips and she all but shrieked in his ear–something along the lines of, ‘You're so lucky!’ and ‘You're so down bad!’.

He didn't pay her any mind, instead keeping his still-red face on her, and her only.

She wandered to different parts of the stage during the remainder of the song, but Spencer didn't miss the more-than-occasional glances she sent his way throughout the next few songs, smile growing each time they locked eyes.

When they did, he matched her smile with his own goofy grin, his heart feeling as if it was beating out of his chest, breathing becoming erratic as he clutched the railing with white knuckles.

~☆~

All too soon, the concert came to an end, accompanied by raucous applause from the crowd. He clapped like a mad thing too, finally understanding why her fans acted the way they did.

The version of him from two hours ago would have teased him relentlessly for this, but he didn't care. It was another completely different version of him, a version that had not yet laid his eyes on her.

It certainly felt like a life-altering moment in his existence. His being was now split into ‘before’ and ‘after’. Before and after her.

She waved and blew kisses enthusiastically as she made her way off stage. He deduced that she would have to walk right past Spencer to get there. He pathetically hoped she would look at him one last time–prayed she cared enough to seek him out once again.

Electricity jolted through his entire body, head to toe, as she locked eyes with Spencer when he was in her direct line of sight.

She gave him a wink and a little wave, biting her lip through a larger-than-life grin; he felt giddy, hand coming up in an awkward half-wave. He silently cursed himself for the stiltedness of his actions.

She, however, didn't have such qualms as she blew him an air kiss, giggling as she turned away, skipping the rest of the way off stage. The screaming continued as the heel of her shoe disappeared behind the side-stage curtain.

He felt oddly hollow as the venue lights came back on, signalling the end of the show. He kept staring at the spot where she had last been, silently hoping she would come back out and sing again. Look at him again.

He blinked hard, finally re-orienting himself, glancing around to see a few people staring at him, whispering to themselves.

They were talking about him–about his encounter. He turned away again, ducking his head as his cheeks burned again.

As quickly as they came, the stares went again, and his eyes flicked back to the stage again. He so badly wanted to meet her, talk to her, even just lay his eyes on her again. That would be enough.

Penelope cleared her throat next to him, and he hummed in response, still not looking away. She snorted. “Come on lover boy, time to leave.”

He turned his attention to see her nod in the direction of the exit.

He gazed back at that spot once more, heaving out a melancholy sigh, before turning away, heading towards the door.

“Yeah, let's go.”

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Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated x

Tags: @reidology13 - Comment to be added!

Masterlist ౨ৎ

[glassrowboat]

Our Adventure. Venti.

Summary: A child of Mondstadt has recently been gifted a vision. A gift from the gods. Yet all she views it as is a decorative charm that invokes ire and fear in her very own heart, a babble she can't even control. The solution? The best bard in Teyvat, obviously!

Word count: 2400+

Authors note: Basically, I've been toiling away in my head what would happen if a vision user was struggling to use their newfound gift and I wrote this :)

The wind had a habit of carrying many things along it's ever flowing breeze, from leaves to the sweetest of songs, from love confessions to the dandelion seeds that truly marked Mondstadt as a land full of endless wishes and freedom. Tonight, however, there was a cry, a wail that even a banshee herself would be incapable of making as it rang in the young bard's ears. This was how the archon had come to know so many secrets that lay in the land he called home, and this was how he ended up below a closed window with pebbles in his hand.

A small thud could be heard on the sill, bouncing off the wood as Venti tried his best to not get hit with the smooth stone hurtling back down to the ground. When no answer came from that still weeping woman another pebble was tossed.

What plagued her was already known by many, far too many if anything. Gossip spread fast in these stone walls. Drunkards would talk about how they came across a random patch of grass just outside the city's gates dried out beyond compression. The local carpenter would talk about how he had to chop down a tree that suddenly became too unstable to be allowed to stand any longer, only to find out behind the untouched bark the inside was lacking any moisture that was so characteristic of fresh wood. The most notable of all however was the knights who said they had to escort a young woman home, too weak to walk as she knelt down right inside a ring of brown blades too stiff to wave in the wind like the fields of green typically would.

(Y/n), a child of Mondstadt recently gifted with a hydro vision.

The very same person who was on the other side of that window was struck with knock after knock as she glared at it with pure contempt, nose still running even as she picked up a random shoe. A heel with its pointed end should do some decent damage, right? So she held it tightly in her grasp, that is until the window randomly opened as if Peter Pan himself was trying to sneak into her darkened room. No candle lit to truly brighten up the scene of a red shoe hitting a green figure square in the face.

“No, no, that's some vampire shit I ain't about. Go find some other woman to prey on I- I ate garlic bread for dinner ya know?” Even with your vision blurred by tears you quickly grabbed the other shoe, getting ready to throw this one too.

Vampires can't enter without permission, right?

Well nevermind to that idea as the green figure landed on the floor having successfully passed through what was supposed to be a barrier of protection. All the while he was beaming at you with a smile that would make anyone want to punch him, even with his hands up in the air.

“That's not allowed….”

“Hello to you too.” Ah, you recognize that voice. The little pest that would run around the cobblestone streets all the while humming a tune that would be running on replay in anyone's head for hours after. “Can you put the other shoe down? My face already hurts from the first one.”

“I think you deserved it, you oversized fly.” Letting go of the shoe you let it fall to the ground as you got back up from what was an admittedly cowering position on the floor.

“Come now, what happened to you calling me a grand poet the likes no one has seen in this modern age? Am I not the next-” and you ended up throwing the shoe at him in the end- “Hey!”

You just shrugged, hands raising in the air in what could only be described as a whatcha gonna do about it motion.

Venti looked down at the shoe for a moment as it fell to the ground before kicking it back over to you, giving you free ammunition. “You could throw that shoe at me again or you- I was joking about the shoe! Please, spare me.”

“Flies usually get swatted.”

“Okay….different approach then.” Sighing to himself Venti walked over to, hand ruffling with something in his pockets before pulling out a handkerchief. The white square of cloth held out to you as it swayed in the wind coming from that still open window. “A fair maiden such as yourself shouldn't be crying, so I offer you this: let the best bard in Teyvat whisk you away on an adventure for the ages. We can make our grand escape right away!”

That's a great way to have missing person posters plastered up right next to the ones of the travelers sibling, and how well have those worked so far? Therefore your answer was an obvious “fuck that.”

“Please, with a cherry on top? And sprinkles too.”

Grabbing the handkerchief, and half tempted to throw it right back at him, you brushed it against your eyes. The fabric is surprisingly soft for something a bard who can barely afford a drink would be carrying, yet the lack of an abrasive texture appreciated nonetheless. “Why are you even here?”

“Well,” with a giggle Venti held his hand up, like he was in a play about to recite a sonnet in the middle of a stage with hundreds of eyes on him and him alone. If it was any other situation it could be an amusing sight, but he's still trespassing. “Let's say the wind guided me to you.”

It was hard to pinpoint why it felt so off-putting the way he said that, wistful in a way, but you didn't really get the chance to think on it more as Venti opened his mouth again. “What bard can stand hearing a fair maiden cry and not try and cheer her up with a song or two? Certainly not this one.”

“The wind?”

“Yup. Or maybe even Barbatos himself.”

“Have you ever gone to a doctor to see if you're clinically insane? Or have you just been hanging around Barbara and her musings of the church doctrine too much?”

With that Venti leaned over, a hand held up right next to his mouth so he could whisper, “the results came out inconclusive.”

Wait. What?

“Now come on! We have to get going before the sun fully sets and we have no light to help us see.” After all, who would want to be running around tripping over the loose cobblestones in the streets? “Walking through the dark is only romantic on beaches and sneaking around back alley ways to meet your lover, you know.”

So, he is insane.

Yet here you are taking out the hand he was holding out to you, letting that bard whisk you away on this promised adventure as he drags you out the window. (Trying your best to pretend you didn't notice him grabbing the vision you had tossed on the bed as he did). So while you didn't trip over the loose stones, at least not this time, you did fumble over roots as Venti pulled you under windrise. Leaves occasionally fall down from the tall tree, flowing back and forth as the wind catches the thin object before it finally settles down amongst the grass you two were trampling over as he pulled you to sit down.

Your knees hitting the dirt right before the stream winding along the plains to the coast, water softly rushing past you both as the sound hits your ears almost like a melody. Though a certain drunkard would be aghast to hear you say you prefer this over the strumming of his lyre he'd be plucking at any other time, even if it was just as a joke. Though admittedly it was odd not to see the ducks wading around, having gotten so used to seeing them so often from past visits trying to steal your lunch when you weren't looking.

Pesky little things they were, just like this brat.

“So, what's with the field trip?”

“I can't just pull you along for a midnight trip to my favorite spot?” The answer was clearly an obvious no. Not without a reason of course. “I give, I give, just don't have to glare at me like that. I've heard around town that you had a little incident.”

Oh great, so the rumor mill was doing its thing. What a goody. Just the thought of that scene again, of the hydro vision being cradled between your hands as the grass beneath you withered away to the point a patch of dead, dried out flora has your nose wrinkling. Not wanting to go over the image that played in your head like a highlight reel. A movie dedicated to your own inability.

“Is this the part you impart on me some sage advice?”

“I can.” With the wave of his hand, or more like a flutter of the earth's breath itself as a breeze swayed past you both, catching his braids and making them dance, Venti summoned his lyre. A certain blue glow reflecting off the wood from the gem sitting between you both. “Or we can sit here while I play a tune. It's up to you, (y/n).”

“I'd pick the latter in an instant.”

“But?”

“But it won't get me anywhere.”

Somehow even just the gold encased vision (or maybe the casing was a part of the vision, you didn't really know much about how that all worked) had a certain aura about it that felt daunting. Just an item. Just something as useless as an accessory if it wasn't being used by its owner. It was like instinct to avoid it, just like when you were a child and you had to learn the hard way not to touch that pan that had just been pulled off the still burning hot stove. For the two instances to be so comparable was like a funny, passing thought, but to you it certainly wasn't.

How can one laugh at their own misery without doing so just to mask their pain?

“Venti, what was it like when you first got your vision?” It felt like a natural question to ask, but he didn't really give you much of a real response to that besides strumming that lyre. A tune playing between you that you had heard at the tavern a good handful of times before.

“Let's just say I have always been a natural.”

“So you're useless to me.”

“Sounds like it, doesn't it?” Reaching over Venti picked up a windwheel aster only a little bit away, close enough he didn't have to shift at all to simply pluck it from the ground. “Though I wouldn't call the company of a friend useless.”

You couldn't help but huff at his statement, annoyed by the fact he had a point. “Fine. Sorry.”

He nodded in turn, not bothering to say anything about your mood today. Not when you both knew why you suddenly turned into such a grouch. “I can still explain how it feels for me.”

“As long as you promise not to say something cheesy like I become the wind itself.” That would surely make anyone in your position a little peeved. A prodigy sitting before you who has the ability to so naturally have control of something that threatens to turn on you. The claws of a wild animal that one can never say for sure will come to you for help or to attack.

“I can try!” Holding the flower out, those same orange petals that had become second place in the walls of Mondstadt began to spin. Turning round and round as you were left to stare at the little demonstration. “Like freedom itself has graced me. I can feel wind under my fingertips just as easily as I do strings or this flower for an example.”

“(Y/n), you may not currently know exactly what melody you are trying to share with the world yet, and that's fine! We all have to start somewhere.” Giggles came out between his words, easing the tension you couldn't help but feel at being so blatantly called out. “But just like always, a tune will still play, or in this case the sound of rushing water will be the music you grace me with. Either way, I can't wait to see what you can come up with.”

“My, how sweet, I almost want to wretch.”

“Hey, I was being serious for once!”

That's why this entire interaction feels so wrong.

Still, you glanced back down at the blue gem, watching how it glows so the grass it lays on is tinted with its color. Would it do the same to your garments once you get brave enough to hang it from your clothes like you've seen Amber doing? It was still a burner after all, but even a burner will cool. It just takes time.

“I wasn't expecting to see this side of you today.”

“Like what you see, my lady? Next, all we have to do is throw you in the water and see what happens.”

“I swear to fucking god-” No, you are not down for being thrown around by his wind currents. Just having to ride down one as you left your apartment to get here was enough for one day.

“Easy! Easy! We won't go back to throwing shoes at me, right?” He asked, hands in the air. Already surrendering just in case. The flower hanging in the air between you both. His doing, obviously.

“You're infuriating sometimes.” With a huff you snatched the flower from the air, pulling it close so you could look at it properly. It still had life left in it, still had water coursing through that green stem.

Your eyes were so focused on the petals you didn't even notice the smile Venti was giving you, soft in nature as he watched you stare down at the gift with a pout. You didn't need to know that he was just happy to see you free from tears again, to no longer have you be locked up in your own room from fear of something new. As for Venti? He didn't need to know you couldn't help but think maybe Barbatos did send him to you.

No, not all.

So just like any silent night at windrise, or as silent as can be with you two mouthing off at each other, the leaves rustled as branches swayed back and forth, and a tune, for the wind had a habit of carrying the sweetest of songs.

[wanderingpages]

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾Gentle Sins AU☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

“Are you going to help me take my clothes off too?” I meant it to sound teasing – I wanted to show him I could play his game too – but I was breathless, I was buzzing with anticipation.

“You know it wouldn’t end there, Jude,” he gave me a wry look. “It's a shame,” he rose and ruffled my hair, “It's a shame you’re my sister,” he murmured, needlessly reminding me. “Because that was some damn fine pussy, baby.”

TFOTA // All Human // AU : Jude and Cardan do things step-siblings shouldn't do.

Trigger Warnings: Crude language, Allusions to Drugs/Alcohol, Debauching Catholicism/Religious Metaphors, Taboo Sex.

Only God and @headcannonxgalore knows how many times I rewrote this one.

Jude's POV

I stand on my tiptoes, both feet perched on the back of my armchair, strategically positioned against the wall closest to the doorway. Holding my breath, I delicately place the wire right above the door frame. "Uh huh," I mumble in response to Fand's voice emanating from the speakerphone, feeling beads of sweat forming at the back of my neck. A sigh of relief escapes when the fairy lights finally find their place on the nail I had carefully tacked there earlier. Stepping down, I survey the room, content with the new decor I've added today. Admittedly, it was done as a way to create an excuse to stay in my room and avoid the rest of my family, but as  I take in the rest of the scene, I can't help but feel pretty accomplished. 

Suddenly, there’s a tap on my window. My brows furrow when I turn and spot Cardan standing on the roof, waiting patiently for me. He breathes against the glass before writing “Hi” and drawing a little smiley face in the fog. I let out a snort, despite myself, forgetting about my cell still running a call on my dresser. 

“Jude?” Fand questions.

“Um, Fand, I’ll call you back in a bit, okay?” I hardly hear her answer as I end the call, tossing the phone on the bed. I walk over to the window and pull it up. I rest my elbows on the sill, watching amused as Cardan squats down to be leveled with me.

He tugs the end of my braid, grinning, “Can I come in?”

I pretend to think, “What’s in it for me?”

“Anything you want, princess.” His eyes glimmer in the moonlight. He leans in closer and I can smell cinnamon gum on his breath. “Please,” he pleads, “It’s cold out here, Jude.” My mouth tingles at the barely there brush of his against mine. My tongue darts out, wetting my lips and I take a tentative step back for him to maneuver in. The chilled air also seems to follow him in, making goosebumps prick at my skin. I resist the urge to cover myself and take a few steps back until the back of my knees hit my bed. I take a seat, finding the koala I had thrown from my chair and bring it onto my lap, digging my fingers into its fur. 

He sits on the ledge, obscuring most of the cool air from directly hitting me. He nods his head to my phone, curiously, “Who was that?”

I shrug, following his line of sight in time to see a message come through from Fand. I swipe it away, glancing at the time reading well after midnight. “A friend.”

“Oh, I’ve heard that song before,” Cardan teases. He brings his tongue to the back of his teeth, and to my annoyance, begins a series of ‘la-la-la’s’ in tune with the chorus of Biz Markie’s “Just a Friend.”

“She is,” I insist. Contrary to what my stepmother may think of me being this lonesome child, I did have a few friends in high school and Fand was by far the closest. We kept in touch throughout our first semester, and met up a handful of times since I’ve been back. But, despite that, despite the hour long conversation I just ended with her, I’ve been feeling like a stranger. 

I give my stepbrother an inquiring look, wondering why he’s so far away and why we’re both acting so coy. I run the nail of my forefinger over my thumb, jolting when I snag a scabbed over bruise. Absently, I bring the scored finger to my mouth as I take him in. He looks flushed, undoing the scarf around his neck before running his fingers through his dark, windblown tresses. A silver pendant glints against his black shirt –  a small double cross pendant on a roll chain. I rub my hand over my cheek and raise my brow in question. He grins when he catches my eyes and asks, “How was your run this morning?”

“My run?” I repeat, miffed. I’m partially dazed, entranced by how stark he looks against the backdrop of my very bright room; donned with a dark pair of jeans, laced up boots and what looks like a dark sherpa lined coat only enhanced by the crème colored walls and fairy lights strewn up – along with fake greenery and miscellaneous photos hooked in between – at the far corner of my room.

He turns, taking in the new decor and taps a photo closest to him, musing lightly, “When did you put this up?”

 “A few hours ago,” I admit. “Have you always been partial to the color black?”

“I’m more of a gold guy,” he says, scrunching his nose in a way I can’t help but find almost cute. His nose ring shines when he tilts his head just right, and for the first time since I’ve known Cardan Greenbriar, I feel quite shabby in comparison. My pajama pants are fuzzy and juvenile with its cow printed pattern,  and the large gray shirt I have on does nothing to help accentuate my body. “You didn’t even kiss me goodbye,” he brings back the conversation, almost pouting at me.

“Kiss you goodbye,” I repeat dryly. I grip the koala a little tighter. “Sorry?” I offer, a moment later and he shrugs absently. “Where’d you go? Today, I mean. You were gone when I came back,” I point out, aware of how suddenly I'm the one with the accusatory tone.

He looks at me carefully when he answers, “A friend asked for some help. She’s moving furniture around.”

“She?” It comes out before I can stop myself. Him asking about Fand felt so light compared to the dread I feel asking about his friend.

He rests his head back against the window and watches me, slightly amused. “Mmhmm,” he hums and assures me, “no one to be worried about though, little sister.” His lips tilt up and I throw the teddy at him. He catches it in one hand, then brings it close to him for a cuddle. I'm all too aware of how empty and exposed I feel without it as armor. 

“That’s not what I was getting at,” I mumble. My stomach churns, feeling a rush of complicated emotions twisting deep within me. Jealousy, I can admit to myself, and a pitiful type of envy as I watch the beady eyes of my stuffed animal he holds so tenderly. I play with the tips of my hair, fiddling with the elastic that holds the tight braid together. It’s a little too tight, and maybe that’s why my skull is pounding right now. “Why did you come through the window, by the way? I’m sure our parents don’t care about a curfew for you.” If I sound bitter about that, he decidedly ignores it.  

"Have you considered that maybe, I just like the thrill of things," he says playfully, his eyes holding something daring and challenging within them. A wicked grin curls onto his lips and I let out a huff of air, trying not to think back on all his thrilling ideas before. A tingle crawls up my spine, unpleasantly. This time I don’t ignore the shiver and I cross my arms over my chest.

I roll my eyes, “Okay, you adrenaline junkie, can you close the window now? Pneumonia isn’t very thrilling, so to speak.” 

He instead places the koala on the bookshelf and moves to come closer to me, though he pauses when I give his boots a pointed look. He retracts, settling back against the window, instead of undoing his laces like I thought he would. “Come here, first,” he barters. I blink in hesitation, and while I try to remain seated, my feet lead me to him anyway. I roll my eyes, annoyed with myself, wondering if I’d bark, too, if he told me to get on all fours for him. 

I toe at his boot when we’re close together, staring down at the chipped polish on my nails against his scuffed leather. I’m avoiding his gaze because it’s so damn bright in my room that I know if I meet his eyes, I’ll find that his dark irises are not black as midnight, but a deep brown with tiny, lighter flecks of amber around the edges. I’ll get lost in them like I shouldn’t, fall just a little deeper, maybe, forget that this is a game and fold. He tilts my chin up and my heart’s nearly steady rhythm skyrockets as soon as my gaze falls on his lips. “Hi,” I say, quietly.

“Jude,” Cardan says just as breathlessly, and it catches me off guard at first. My name sounds like sin…like desire, when he says it, and as I place my fingers over his chest, I wonder if the devil has ever called out a saint’s name so enticingly. ‘Eve,’ the snake whispered, ‘bite the apple’ must be tantamount to ‘Jude, ride my fingers.’ His lips twitch, a lone finger tracing pink in my cheek, and he asks, “What are you thinking?”

I don't answer. I reach for the cross dangling from his neck, testing the weight on the tip of my finger. It’s heavier than most pendants its size, and when I flip it over, I’m not surprised to see the letters ‘c’ and ‘h’ embossed on it. I want to twist the chain around my fingers until it purples my skin, until it embeds in his flesh, until he struggles for breath – maybe then he’ll feel an ounce of what I feel when I'm this close to him. I trace up the chain, following it to where his skin is flushed from the weather. I find a bruising mark along the juncture of his neck. I bite my tongue, embarrassed to know that I was the one who left it there. I finger it lightly and he shudders, to my surprise. His lashes flutter and his lips part. 

Astounded, I trace the mark again and watch, enthralled as he sucks in a breath. His heated hand grasps my iced one, removing it from his skin. He squeezes it lightly, thawing my fingers before letting them go. My hands then move to his hips, creeping towards his back, sneaking into the warmth of his jacket. Cardan’s hand against my face splays, fingers reaching to my neck, his other hand goes to my hair, curling it like a rope around his wrist and bending my head back. He leans closer, cinnamon wafting over my cheeks. I want to kiss him, I realize. Not in the throws of passion or under the guise of secrecy, I just want to kiss him soft and sweet; press our lips together for just a second. Perhaps, I had done myself a disservice, not kissing him goodbye this morning. Lost a chance of daylight reaching our sins. 

His eyes search mine, he’s annoyed, I think drably, but he holds me in place with no malice touching his features. His thumb traces the darkness under my eye, indication of my lack of sleep. “Is it me?” His question confuses me for a moment, and I grip his shirt just a bit tighter. “Something else? Daddy?” I frown at that when I follow his thought process. Dad, guilt, Asha… I try to turn my face but he doesn’t let me cower. His eyes search mine, then he offers, “Do you want to get out of here?”

I hesitate to answer, only because I’m not quite sure of how grand of a scope his question entails. Get out of my room, or get out of this life? “It’s past my curfew,” I finally murmur stupidly, my breath hitching when our lips meet briefly.

His lips stretch against mine. “Go find a jacket,” He turns me to face my closet and I stumble towards it, colder the further I move away from him.

“Should I change?” I ask, looking down at my sleepwear.

“What’s the point, if I'm going to get you out of them, anyways?” I scowl and turn my head to him. His smile is boyish as he surrenders, “Joking – I would dare not corrupt my darling little sister, of course.”

“You’re sick,” I tell him, now deciding on remaining in my frumpy attire out of spite. He laughs out a stupid childish phrase, implying I was the sick one, not him. I fight the urge to stick my tongue out at him and head to my closet, finding the only coat not currently hanging downstairs in the foyer. I grab a pair of thick socks from a drawer and then proceed to slip on sneakers that have seen better days. They’re no pristine, white high tops like Vivienne's but they do the trick all the same. “How do I look?”

I give him a turn, not really expecting a response as I walk up to him – I’m sure I resemble a clown school drop out – but I let out a startled noise when he pulls the scarf from his neck and wraps it around my own. “It’s cold,” he explains. It’s a soft cashmere and smells just like him. He climbs out the window first, not giving me a chance to respond, then holds out a hand to help me out. I keep my mouth closed, nuzzling deeper into his scarf as he explains how to get down. I’m only half hearing his words as the thrill of sneaking out starts to surface by the tremble of my body. He navigates his way down first, making sure I'm closely following behind. I feel a little giddy, and perhaps it shows on my face when Cardan glances at me. His soft smile seems responsive to my mood. He throws an arm over my shoulder and quietly leads us past his car and towards the sidewalk, then a little ways down.

He finally pauses far enough away, under the shelter of trees at the dead end of the cul-de-sac where not even the neighboring houses’ security lights can touch us. We’re in front of a pick-up truck, old and rusted and not at all something I’d ever picture Cardan driving; seemingly out of place even in my neighborhood. My eyebrows shoot up when he opens the door and gestures me in. “This is humbling,” I finally manage, laughing at the absurdity of it all. He holds a hand out to me and I take it, letting him help me into the cab. It’s a little shabby, but I feel more comfortable than I did in his car. Maybe it’s because the truck holds no awkward memories I constantly have to face in it.

He jogs over to the other side, quickly turning dials to blast the heat. He keeps the windows down only a crack to diminish any fog on the glass, then pulls on to the road. My fingers wiggle in front of the vents, warming them up, humming to the low music his radio plays. His lips tilt in a small smile, “I told you, I was helping a friend.”

My eyebrows shoot up, “So you rented this?

“Baby, I own this,” he says almost proudly. “None of Daddy’s money and all.” He shrugs and turns the music up, “Have you ever seen Insmire during the holidays? We missed the Halloween decorations, but Christmas is something else.”

“No,” I shake my head and lean back, tucking my chin to snuggle into his scarf. I wonder idly when the warm musky scent of him has turned into something comforting for me. “I never really had a reason to go to Insmire.”

He glances at me then nods to the canvas bag by my feet, “You cold? There’s a blanket in there.” I reach down and pull out a thick beige knitted throw with gold sequins scattered here and there. Before I can mention anything Cardan says, “Nicasia didn’t want it, said you’d probably like it.”

I tuck it back into the bag, “Nicasia?” it takes me a minute to realize that she’s the friend he’d been helping. Something sours knots in my stomach and I try to ignore it. Had he driven that far to see her, or did she also live much closer than I knew? “From the party? She… knows about us?” It’s stupid to ask, I know before he answers. I think about Ghost and what he asked me that night, if I wanted them to watch – wanted my stepbrother to watch. He knew, so of course she knew, too. 

“Jude,” Cardan laughs, “She got her rocks off watching me watch you; I’m sure she might have an inkling of how constantly I think about fucking my stepsister.” 

“Oh,” I mumble, wryly, “Is that how her rocks got off?”

“I might have helped some,” He laughs, turning the radio up. “I think she likes you,” he offers and I squirm.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like you.”

“Little liar. I think you like me a lot. And it’s more than just the dirty shit I do to you; you like me as a person and all that.” In another world, I’d agree and we’d call this our third date.

I grind my molars, staring out the window, watching the lights pass us by. “I don't even think I know you as a person, really. Like, what do you even major in?”

“Psychology,” he says, not missing a beat.

“Really?” I ask, surprised. “Why that?”

“Wish I had a better therapist when I was 7,” he drops on me. “What better way to fix the system than from within?”

I look at him with high brows, “Really? I mean- I… I’m so sorry, Cardan -”

“I am pretty exceptional at coloring within the lines, though,” he smiles almost indifferently. “I think that's really all I did in her office - color worksheets she’d give me.” I part my lips, but he changes the subject, “You ever been ice skating?”

“No…” I say, slowly, accepting the new information and trying not to pry where he doesn't want me to. “I’m not really into sports - I never even learned how to ride a bike.”

“You run,” he points out, to which I shrug as this was something new to me too. “Wait, you don't know how to ride a bike?” I let out a startled laugh because yeah, that does seem incredulous. 

“He may not seem like it, but Dad worries a lot. He’s never let me experience scraped knees. I don’t even have my ears pierced.” I give him a grin but he doesn't reciprocate. His eyes are trained in front of him, glancing up at street signs so my eyebrows furrow when Cardan reaches blindly, fingers touching my ear, thumbing where a first piercing would be. “Oh,” I say, “I guess it’s weird that I took your earrings then - do you want them back?”

He rolls his eyes, making a turn as his fingers glide down to my shoulder, then lower to my hand, encasing it in his. “Don’t be stupid, Jude.”

We talk casually, asking and answering more asinine questions – whatever we must have missed on our road-trip home. I give his fingers a squeeze when I get more comfortable, giggling a bit as Cardan sings off-key to the Christmas song playing on the radio. I turn my head to the window, watching as gradually, bare houses with some fairy lights slowly transcend into houses adorned with strings of multicolored lights blinking in harmony. Every single tree we pass by has an array of lights shining brightly. Inflatable Santas and reindeers sway in the winter breeze. It’s almost whimsical. I lean closer to the window, aware of Cardan slowing down for me to see. Sure, Insmoor had their fair share of décor, but Insmire felt like being inside a snow globe.

“This doesn't feel real,” I whisper in wonder. I roll down the window halfway, sticking my head out the car to get a better look. Cardan’s hand holds mine a bit tighter, as if he’s scared I'd fall out. The decorations become more intricate, with some houses featuring life-sized nutcrackers and snowmen. Strings of lights with snowflakes and baubles at the end hang from bare trees, looking like giant ornaments floating in the air. Even the towering Christmas trees are visible through the windows. One house even has a Grinch placed by their chimney. They all look like different scenes from different Christmas movies.“Cardan - look!” The air carries the familiar scent of winter pine, and for a moment, the festive atmosphere transports me back in time.

The memories flood, foggy, but still there, and suddenly, the smile on my face feels like it’s worth too much effort. I recall silver thistle wrapped around a small tree, baubles with our names on it. Jude, Eva, Madoc. “It’s so pretty, Mommy!” I said as dad lifted me on his shoulders, letting me place an angel on the top of the tree, followed by a distant response of,“Just like you my baby.” A scene so warm makes me feel so cold now. When did I stop believing in Santa? It had to have been after Mom left - but had Dad ever attempted to keep up pretenses after that year? I can't remember a happy holiday with just my father and I. Even with Asha's added presence, we never went for usual Christmas traditions, though it was probably the only time I ever received a wrapped gift or Christmas cookies - albeit store bought, it still embraced the holiday that in a way, my dad had halted.

“Jude?” Cardan's voice breaks through my reverie, calling my name with concern. I don't answer immediately; the emotions threaten to overwhelm me. I wipe my eyes, taking a moment to center myself. My hand feels cold in his. 

“Even your house is decorated,” I point out, trying to mask the sudden croak in my voice. The truck rolls to a stop in front of someone’s lawn. His front lawn might be the most tame, though still painting a picture of a snow-family opening presents by a large Christmas tree.

I see Cardan run a hand through his hair from my window’s reflection. The cheery glow seems to turn into an uncomfortable spotlight. He looks torn on whether to answer me or offer me comfort. “Yeah, we…pay people to do that for us.” He’s concerned when he asks, “Jude, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I wipe at my nose and turn to give him a smile. It wavers and feels forced, not fooling either of us. “I just remembered… I just… I haven’t had homemade hot chocolate until your mom showed up.” I feel like I’m somehow betraying him by telling him this. “I didn’t even know what Elf on a Shelf was until she started living with us.”

His eyes flash; he looks almost… defeated. “Yeah?” he tugs my hand, and I let him pull me closer, let him turn me and guide me on to his lap. He shifts us down to the center, making sure the steering wheel wouldn’t dig into me. I place my palms on his chest as he undoes the scarf, letting it hang around my neck, then works on my zipper, smoothly sliding it down and unhooking it.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I lower my head to his. Sorry I fell for Asha - wish I fell for you, first.

He seems to hesitate, his gaze lingering not exactly on me, but at me. "She’s not my favorite person, but if she’s yours, then..." he shrugs, and pulls me closer, his hands coming to my hips, sliding beneath my shirt to the small of my back. “It's a little funny,” he smirks with no mirth, “She never even knew how to make hot chocolate when I used to visit. She burned chocolate in the microwave once. Unrelated, but I never went back after that year.” 

I frown, tracing the curve of his lips with my thumbs. “What did she do?” I ask, before I can stop myself. My eyes grow wide, “Don’t answer that, sorry -”

He cuts me off, giving me a dry smile, “It’s all water under the bridge, don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”

“Cardan…”

As if it explains anything, he says, “My mother is a devout catholic now, repenting and all that,” his droll is sardonic. “Maybe she’d be proud of how biblically I want you.”  his fingers creep higher, thumbs maneuvering over my breasts making me suck in breath when he caresses my peaked nipples. I bite down on my lip; I think I know him well enough to know he’s deflecting, but I don't mind. His hands are so, so, so warm. “I wouldn't be here if I didn't think I could handle it. Don't worry, little sister.” He trails off quietly, a far off look on his face. His thumbs are absently rubbing over me in small circles. My knees twitch and I feel the shake in my thighs as I grind down on his lap, reaching for some type of friction. He sucks in a breath, fingers digging into my skin. His lips twitch, eyes gleaming when he meets mine, “Anyways, you can tell Daddy that I think you ride just fine, baby sister.” 

I grit my teeth, sliding my hands to cup the back of his neck. I grip at the hair at his nape, moving my hips a little harder. “Fuck you,” I manage, and he just smiles, so awfully, holding on to me as I continue to take what I can from him, like a damned hypocrite. My nails dig into his scalp and my head falls back. I feel warm and flushed and lightheaded. His nail scrapes against my nerves, and I bite down hard on my bottom lip. Heat pools between my legs the more he circles my nipples. They get so sensitive so fast that it starts to feel like torment. “Ah,” I whisper, my nails on the brink of breaking his skin.

There’s a rush in my ears and it takes me some time to realize Cardan is speaking to me, whispering to me, praising me, taking nonsense,“...good… you look so fucking good…so pretty…riding this dick…” I let out a moan when he shifts his hips and we align perfectly. “I wonder,” he breathes, “how often you hump your pillows… like this… ride your stuffed toys… wishing it was me….” I’m too gone to be embarrassed. I want to undo his pants but I don't want to let go of him, I don't want him to let go of me, either. He reaches down, biting me over my shirt and I let out a cry when he tugs at the peaked tips of my breasts, one after the other.

Cardan’s fingers are bruising into my skin and when I glance down, he’s already looking up at me. The lights flicker against his necklace, taunting me, and for a moment, I imagine it dangling off his bare neck, teasing my skin as he hovers over me. I lean down until my lips are by his ear and bite down on his earlobe. He pinches me under my shirt, in retaliation, before rubbing his fingers over the soreness. I suck in a breath, feeling hot and heady, rubbing harder on him until the ache in my clit is satiated. 

“Which one was it,” he whispers. “The snake?”

“No,” I manage.

“Koala? Cat…?” His grunts are labored, I shake my head against him, and I lift my hips just a bit to bounce on him. “A pillow?”

I whimper and his hands slide down to my hips, kneading at my flesh guiding me roughly. My eyes screw tight, as heat erupts inside of me. I pull his chain from the back, letting the cross dagger into his skin, press into the hollow of his neck, while I ride the last of the euphoric wave. My lips move against his skin, “no… I have a different toy. One that vibrates. I’ll let you watch one day.”

His eyes are lidded, when I pull away to look at him. His breaths come out shallow as I slow to a stop. He brings a hand to my hair, winding my braid until my neck pulls back. He bites down right under my chin, pulling away with a harsh suck of skin. “I’ll hold you to it.”

He slowly unravels my hair and my fingers shake as I hold on to him, trying to catch my breath. “Do you…” I can't find my words, falling forward to place my head against his. My hands slowly lets go of him, falling from his neck and down to his chest. I go lower, reaching the button on his jeans, “You didn’t…”

He closes his eyes, taking in a breath, “Just stay still for a moment.” He gives me a dry laugh, “It’s not so easy to clean up come in my current position, as it is for you to hide how wet your panties are.” I roll my eyes, but heed his request. Finally, he opens his eyes and searches mine. “You look tired.”

I snort, “no kidding.”

He grins, “I should get you back home now. You’re due for a run in a few hours then I'm sure you’ll follow Asha to mass later, right?” I grimace at that but nod anyway, feeling a little more than anxious about Sunday service.

“I feel another sleepless night coming,” I admit. He slowly moves his other hand from under my shirt to hold my face, and I tell him, “It’s not you, by the way.” He gives me a questioning look and I smile as much as I can for him. “The longest I’ve slept since we’ve been back was last night, in your arms.” I lean in to give him the kiss we’d missed out on before. He grabs my chin, not letting me fully pull away, and presses his lips to mine again, turning the soft peck into something more, parting my lips with his own, coating my tongue with cinnamon. 

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Masterlist

Gentle Sins Masterlist

[w1ld-wr1t3r]

Can you do 59 for carlando?👀

How did you guys manage pick a song from The Creator for Carlando again. The universe is really telling me to write this AU!

This song plays at the start of the movie, and the scene ends on a less than happy note. I've taken the liberty to create a different scene here, that doesn't reflect the same scene in the movie. Also, this one splits between both Lando and Carlos' POV, so you can get a feel for what they're both thinking at the time.

59. They're Not People by Hans Zimmer

Lando laid on his back, looking out the window at the moon. Silver light drifted through the curtains, shining on him and Carlos. The world seemed peaceful outside.

If only there wasn't an international war happening at the same time.

Carlos was half asleep against his side, breath rasping slightly as he swallowed a cough every few breaths. The muppet had managed to pick up a cold halfway through their little vacation. At least it wasn't a bad one, though Carlos carried on like he was dying every night when he had to prop up two pillows to be able to breathe. Lando would probably catch it next, after spending so much time taking care of Carlos. But he didn't mind. He was more than happy to take care of him.

There was a light knock on the door, and when Lando bid them to enter, a head poked into the room, closely followed by the rest of their body. A simulant had brought them two glasses of water and the sleep medicine that Carlos found more tolerable in taste. Lando smiled kindly at the boy, who projected an air of calm serenity but seemed secretly nervous. He was a new addition to their group, so quiet and focused on his work that Lando hadn't even learned his name yet. He made a mental note to invite him on their next outing into town - the kid could stand to socialize a bit.

"Thank you," he said softly, as he accepted the drinks. He set one on the bedside table with the medicine and sipped on the other. Carlos stirred at his voice, blinking open his eyes and coughing.

"Sorry," the bot apologized, as if Carlos waking up was a crime, taking a wary step back. A few simulants, especially the newer ones, still harbored some distrust of Carlos. Admittedly, it was a bit unusual for an anti-AI fighter to willingly turn to their side. Some folks still thought Carlos was trying to con them, even though he'd been with their group for over a year with nary a sign of betrayal. Lando, for his part, trusted him wholeheartedly. He had helped them, fought by their sides, helped them find shelter, mourned with them. He treated simulants like he treated any other person - it had been tricky for him to adapt to that at first, but now, he really seemed like he believed it. Lando trusted him.

So why haven't you told him who you really are yet? his consciousness helpfully supplied.

That was . . . a question Lando couldn't really answer. Yes, he trusted Carlos. But he was literally the single most important person for the pro-AI side, their leader, practically worshipped as a god by some. There was so much riding on his shoulders, including the entire war effort. He had so many eyes on him, even if only a tiny handful of people knew his true identity. Adding one more person to that number was always a risk.

He trusted Carlos with his life. But trusting him with the fate and legacy of everyone who followed him, everyone who believed in him, thousands if not millions of people, was a whole lot bigger.

He looked down at Carlos, telling the bot it was alright and thank you again, and leaned in to kiss him after the bot left. Carlos' grumpiness at being woken up left quickly, and he held Lando tighter with a smile.

He loved moments like this with Carlos. Domestic, sweet, normal. If only they could hold onto them forever.

But with everything he was - with everything they were, and the way the world was - he was afraid they couldn't.

So he'd try to cherish them for as long as he could.

--

Carlos awoke with a displeased grunt when he heard voices. He'd finally started to get some real sleep. He couldn't wait for this cold to be over.

He looked up to see a simulant backing away from the bed. A glass of water and medicine were now on the bedside table. Right, it was probably time for his next dose. At least that would help him sleep a bit better.

"Sorry," the bot said, looking at Carlos warily. To be fair, Carlos had been told his face when he first woke up could be intimidatingly grumpy.

"It's alright, thank you," Lando said to the bot. He always spoke so kindly, to both real people and AI. He held so much compassion in his heart.

Carlos sometimes wondered if he deserved any part of that compassion.

His mission had been . . . "put on indefinite hold." He'd told his superiors that he had to wait and see if any of his leads on finding the pro-AI leader panned out, and moving on them too soon could jeopardize his success. That was at best a half-truth. He had no new leads, and even if he did, pursuing them would mean giving up his relationship with Lando. Because there was no way Lando would still want to stay with him if he knew that Carlos hadn't actually switched sides out of the pure goodness of his heart.

He might not support AI, but he loved Lando. How could he not? He was funny, kind, energetic, creative, so many things. He was a treasure.

And Carlos felt so selfish and guilty for treasuring him, when he knew he couldn't hide his secret forever.

He watched the bot go, forcing himself to smile at it. A bot that thought it had done something wrong might follow him around to try and make up for it. He didn't feel like dealing with that, some human-looking thing asking for forgiveness it was only programmed to need.

Because after all, the AI weren't human.

No matter how alive they seemed on the surface.

He knew how Lando would react if he knew Carlos still believed that. Lando had grown up with AI, saw some of them as family. He saw no difference between their "lives" and his. He couldn't wrap his head around the idea that they weren't as human as him.

So Carlos hid it. He kept telling himself that maybe one day he'd believe it. Or maybe one day he'd finally come clean. Maybe because he chose to, or maybe because he could no longer keep his secret hidden. That would probably be the day that he lost Lando forever.

He tried not to think about how that second option was a lot more likely than the first.

He tried to focus on the moment now instead, where he could still hold Lando close.

If this couldn't last forever, then at least he would try to cherish every single moment.

[midnightstay-blog]

🌙🌹 Stranger from that night. 🌙🌹

Romance🌹 | Scenario✨ | Cliffhanger☄️

Here's a little something for Valentine's Day. I wrote this sometime last year. Maybe I'll make this into a longer story later.But idk 🤷🏿‍♀️

Happy Valentine’s Day! 🤍 🥰

Rating : G

Words total: 606.

Sitting off to the side she watches as everyone dances in the middle of the ballroom. One by one. Person by person everyone finds themselves on the dance floor. Eventually, it is just her and a few other people near the set of tables. That is until the person of the hour finally makes an appearance. Walking into the room they slowly look around until their eyes land on her. Making their way over to her they take a deep breath before extending their hand out to hers. She takes a moment to examine the hand before reluctantly taking it. They make their way to the center of the dance floor as everyone begins to stare in their direction. As the two come together and begin their dance she leans in and whispers. " I'm sorry if I step on your feet " "Admittedly I'm not much of a slow dancer" she confesses. They smile at her words and lean in placing their hand on her waist and pulling her closer in the same motion before responding. " don't worry about it too much" "Besides you could always stand on my feet" She smiles to herself before she is lifted into the air briefly and set on top of their feet. The music begins to play and the two move swiftly around the room. Eventually, they are so wrapped up in their dance that they don't notice that everyone else has stopped and pulled out their phones to record the moment. After some time the song comes to an end and the two part. Not wanting the moment to end they grab her hand and make their way out of the building to the courtyard. "Thank you for the dance," she says as she smiles glancing at the ground. "No Thank you" he replied. "For what?" she asked confused. " That was the first time in a while I've danced with someone and just felt like myself" they reply grinning a little. "Felt..." "Seen" she finished. "Yeah.. exactly". Their grin widened a little. They walked for a while in a comfortable silence before they broke it. " I never did get your name," they asked her But before she could reply they were interrupted by who she could only assume was one of the mystery person's friends. "Yo there you are everyone is looking for you" They look at their friend with a grimace before replying. "Hey I'm kinda in the middle of something can it wait" The friend looked between the two before continuing. " Sorry but the head of the brand is looking for you and your manager asked me to come find you" The mystery person's grimace grew deeper before turning back to her and apologizing. "I'm so sorry but I have to go but I would love to see you again" Before she could reply they were dragged back into the party. Not too long after that day, she was in the local bookstore and her phone began to bing repeatedly. Checking it she noticed an influx of notifications. Clicking on her social media she noticed that she had been tagged in a post with the mystery person from the previous night. However, they wear not just a regular person but an international celebrity. Seeing the name across her screen she stood in the middle of the store in shock until her phone began to ring. Answering it a voice came through from the other end. The same voice she had heard that night. "Hi" She paused for a moment examining the screen before placing the phone back to her ear. "Hi..."

[xxcandyacidxx]

a flower

P x Eugenie Oneshot

Felt like writing something for them, I think they're criminally underrated. Also bare with me this is the first time I've written like this on tumblr lol

summary: Eugenie thinks about P's existence before he makes a soft gesture to her

warnings: none I think

Days were a lot more interesting for Eugenie with P around Hotel Krat now, especially considering he was such an amazing creation. She couldn’t deny that she liked keeping busy this way, thinking of different ways to improve his weapons and sketching out Legion arm concepts.

Admittedly, the silence around the Hotel, pleasant as it was, might make one bored after staying for days there. Eugenie was one of the first people to have made it to the Hotel when the Puppet Frenzy started. She nearly went at Polendina after she came through the doors with a nearby lamp before Antonia shouted for the panicked girl to stop and explained her butler’s status to her. Interestingly, Polendina had resisted the surge in violence, as if this rage just did not cross his mind.

It made Eugenie think, wondering if the rumors of the puppets becoming more human had some truth to them. Being one of the lucky mechanics to have worked in Geppetto’s Workshop Union, she hadn’t had much hope in the theory at the time. She worked up close and personal with many artificial bodies, and no evidence was found, not by her. Then again, she had only been around the ones in the street that were activated. Seeing how Polendina spoke and interacted with Antonia at times, she could almost see how doting he was, affectionately so. And she knew this was not much of a feature they had put into those creations.

She kept it to herself until P came along. At first, the boy had come in in a soaked white shirt, sheer from rain and a bit of mineral oil, and she had thought that he was merely a newcomer. A split second later, she realized the resemblance he had to Geppetto’s late son. Then the rational conclusion that was true, this was indeed the puppet that Geppetto had mentioned once to her of making in the likeness of his son. And she had never seen anything like him. He was beautiful, accurate down to every freckle on his face. Except she never recalled Carlo having cornflower blue eyes.

Even after their introductions, she never passed up an opportunity to watch him walk down the hallway past her makeshift workshop in the hotel. Hearing him practice on the training dummies outside. If it wasn’t weird, she might have sat him down and closely examined all of his details. Every strand of hair, how his skin felt under her fingers, wondering how he could have been made. He had to be Geppetto’s best creation yet. And even then, she felt he was more than a puppet.

She had heard him playing the piano once, a simple but pretty melody. She wondered if Antonia felt well enough to scoot herself into the bench but when she less than sneakily peeked around the corner and saw P pressing the keys himself, her eyes widened behind her glasses. He played as if he had for years. But that wasn’t it, given some puppets training required piano simply for hand coordination. It was how human he looked. Swaying slightly to the music, eyes closed and a small furrow of the brow as he pressed a different chord. It was mesmerizing, beautiful that he could feel or at least mimic feeling the music in a way that only humans could. It only got more amazing from there.

P would make an effort to bring back vinyl records for the gramophone collecting dust in the hotel lobby, not even knowing how refreshing it was for Eugenie to hear different songs, the fact that P even thought of wanting to listen to music. She’s never seen that in a puppet before, he couldn’t possibly be all artificial.

Eugenie had been comfortably in her seat, sharpening an old blade P dropped off before in the day, admiring her handiwork at the repaired handle. She looked up upon feeling a presence, seeing P walking into the rather muted room.

“Hello, come to pick up your sword? I just finished it.”

She presented it to him with both gloved hands. P’s eyes flickered down, taking the blade gratefully and merely pocketed it into a sheath on his belt. Thinking that was that, Eugenie went back to the various concepts she had been brainstorming for a few days before she realized she didn’t hear his footsteps retreating. She looked back up, seeing his gaze boring into her comfortably. The staring was something she had to get used to but there was no malice behind it, as if he was simply admiring a painting. The thought almost made her blush.

“..Do you need anything else?”

P walked around the work desk, his looming form now in front of her as she turned her chair to face him. His expression stayed stoic as he carefully withdrew a small flower from a pocket in his tailcoat. Metal hand extended to her face, she could feel her own breath nearly catch in her throat as he tucked the stem gently behind her ear. He cupped her cheek, steel fingers lingering on her warm skin and trailing her jaw as he pulled away. There was almost a warmth in his eyes that Eugenie could not look away from.

Swift as a fox, he turned and slunk down the hallway, leaving Eugenie speechless. Flustered thoughts began entering her mind. She didn’t want to take the flower out, for he put it there in her hair himself but oh how she wanted to know what made him want to do that. Perhaps he did the same with the others? Did someone tell him to? Could it have been that lamp, Gemini? And yet no answers came to mind, not quelling the flush enveloping her skin down to her collarbones.

[monsterfucker-lisa-swallows]

i'll be so fucking for real, some of you only hate things because the culture told you to and the reason it told you to is rooted in misogyny

i've never heard a good reason why people hate cats. even people who are like "i'm allergic to cats" are not valid because two of my roommates are allergic and love cats. one of them adopted 4 and just takes meds. the cats do not purposely cause you to have allergies, they do not even know what that is. there is a weird thing in western culture that valorizes dogs as man's best friend then makes fun of the "crazy cat lady". and that betrays the root, doesn't it? it's because in the middle ages westerners chose to associate cats with femininity and deviant religious practices so it just seeped into the culture. even if you're an enlightened feminist who would never consciously dislike something just because it's associated with women, you've been inundated with the prevailing narrative that there is something sneaky and weird about cats and that it's cool (and often masculine) to talk about wanting to kick them.

this extends to media too. no one has ever given me a good reason for not liking musicals. they're not a uniform genre, they're a broad umbrella. i don't enjoy most of the classic musicals because the music or plot don't typically appeal to me (sorry i think jonathan larson was a bad songwriter) but i have a handful of musicals that i am really passionate about because the themes and the music all scratch that specific itch for me. so fine, you don't like sound of music. not all musicals are stylized like that. try chicago (a jazz based musical about women murdering people). try moulin rouge (over the top campy jukebox musical). try sweeney todd (a horror movie based on a penny dreadful). or if your speed is horror comedy with a touch of rock music, there's always rocky horror (this is only recommended if you have a knowledge of older scifi/horror films and aren't easily squicked out by things that don't align with modern sensibilities). or les mis (political drama, but this one is very musically dense if you're on the fence). i could go on and on. admittedly i mostly like horror musicals like the devil's carnival, repo the genetic opera, phantom of the opera (and all the examples given above) but i mean come on guys the beatles and green day have their own musicals.

what i don't get about people who don't like musicals isn't just that they don't seem to get that there are different genres within the genre, but that they generally don't have problems with music videos. they just claim that breaking into song "breaks their immersion" because it's "not realistic". okay so do you also nitpick when an action star survives a fall from a helicopter? how about superman shooting lazers from his eyes? if musicals doing things that wouldn't happen irl breaks your immersion but none of these other things do then that's curious. (but if they do then you must be a ton of fun at parties.) the purpose of breaking into songs in musicals is to communicate a feeling. it doesn't have to be realistic to communicate that feeling.

but what i've noticed as a former theatre kid and theatre major drop out is that a lot of people who claim not to like musicals have done since they were children. theatre kids get bullied because liking musical theatre is gay, right? so it's a masculinity thing. heaven forbid troy likes basketball AND musicals! these people often aren't exposed to good musicals as a child and build up this idea that they just don't like them and come up with justifications that don't fly.

anyway. some of you need to realize that some of these things you don't like are not because you have a real reason, it's because it is baked into our culture to deride things associated in any way with femininity. and your lives would be richer if you gave new experiences a chance instead of being a hater.

[monkey-network]

Every Tyler the Creator Album Ranked

It was last year where I started listening to music more, eventually every album from the predictably unpredictable Tyler, The Creator. This was before Chromakopia was ever uttered, so you know the hype was real for both that and making this countdown. "Mesmerizing" is my word to describe Tyler's music; the combined messiness and gracefulness that gets better with every relisten. Don't take this as a "worst to best" ranking, I will confidently say he has no bad records even at his worst. But, gotta discuss one thing though before we get to the official list and that is...

0. The Grinch Album

Back in 2018, Tyler was commissioned to make a couple songs for Illumination's Grinch movie. They were fine, even though they wasted his version of "You're a Mean One" on the film's opening minutes. That same year he made an EP with songs inspired by the movie that weren't used in said movie, just something Tyler was into doing. It's only six songs, ten minutes and change total, but it's breezy while not being annoying about the holidays. I'd overall say, since it came beforehand, the EP's great in getting a feel of IGOR's instrumentals but with a more upbeat tone.

You can really tell Pharrell Williams was a big influence, coincidentally since Pharrell made songs for Illumination and a couple of these Grinch songs resemble his works in a way. If I were to rank it, it'd be 6th place. Way too short to fairly ranked among the others but admittedly memorable compared to the bottom 2. With that said, onto the ranking...

8. Goblin

Yeah, even I can't deny this is the weakest of the Wolf trilogy. It has a consistency, but that leads into my biggest problem. Goblin feels too same-y, like a drawn out deluxe pack to Bastard. 'Yonkers' I'm amazed got the praise it did when I could tell Tyler made it as a joke. Still, when it hits it hits, and we got 'She', 'Tron Cat', "Nightmare', 'Windows'. It's indeed an enjoyably dark roller coaster I've never heard before outside punk stuff like Death Grips. Even after several listens though, you will feel those +70 minutes especially when it's his longest album (if you don't count the Estate Sale with CMIYGL). Goblin overall feels like the album that fit with the time it was released but has absolutely not aged as well as its siblings.

7. Scum F_ck Flower Boy

This is undoubtedly blaspheme and unfair of me but this is that case where it IS great but the albums later on the list are stronger to me by comparison. The vibes are more chill but retains those underlying somber feelings like previous records. Tyler got to loosen up lyrically, sound more sober, & it's all a mood. The features are beautifully stacked and I can grasp the vulnerability of these tracks. Between this and the latter half of Cherry Bomb's production, I understand how Pharrell really made an impact on who Tyler wants to be as an artist.

On the other hand, the vibes don't capture me here the way his considered worst and better records do. It doesn't feel fair to call Flower Boy the middle child of his career but while you get the messages and feelings of it, and some songs stick with you, I'd rather put on his previous and proceeding albums that resonated with me more even if they're messier or cleaner.

6. Bastard

I tend to switch between Bastard and Wolf as to which is higher. For Wolf, it's with the storytelling and the composition that's done better. For Bastard, it's the unfiltered energy with it being Tyler's first mixtape. This feels like the album Tyler would always want to make starting out, that no fucks given confidence being the foundation of him exploring his troubles and developing a name for himself. People will act like this and Goblin was all too vile to exist, especially when Chromakopia came out, when I say if you can't accept someone at their worst you don't deserve them at their best. The grojband appeal of Tyler unleashing his intrusive thoughts in foreboding, clever flows feels genuine compared to if he just aped off other braggadocious LA rappers of the time. Basically the "Fatherless Behavior album", as my friend pointed out, got better to me when I actually gave it another chance.

5. Cherry Bomb

I seriously thought this would forever be his worst album after my first listen. "It was ALL messy, titular track was awful, a complete turn off despite the couple good ones." I jumped the gun. I say this was a very important one for Tyler's career; this was his In Search Of and it grew on me. After the Wolf Trilogy, this was him popping off one last time like the old days before coming to terms with where he wanted to go next. You get how his direction w/ music shifted while not feeling ashamed of what used to be his initial flavors; Flower Boy wouldn't have worked without this and I can see why it was Tyler's personal favorite.

I learned to embrace the messiness he offers here while it being more enjoyable as a full package than having select stand out tracks. I'm iffy on the main story behind this album, if you know, but I thank god it's stayed as purely fictional. 'The Brown Stains of Darkeese Latifah Part 6–12' (jfc) is the only song I skip often because the beat is really bad, but every song became a banger the more I listened. To dismiss this album would feel wrong as it exists no differently to Tyler's growth and power as a artist. Change ain't easy, y'know. And for god sake, if you're reading this, give Kali Uchis a listen too.

4. Wolf

This to me has the best storytelling in Tyler's discography. I like that it kinda tricks you in terms of what the perspective is for the album's concept. You could say this is about Wolf Haley himself finding some peace after Goblin, getting in a love triangle with Samuel & Salem. You could say this was more Samuel's album while Wolf is mostly out the picture. You could say this is Tyler's juggle between the two personas. Either way works with his growth considering this is far less shocking than Goblin and Bastard combined. You can tell while Samuel exists as the remaining edginess of the past, he's cooled down with the graphical lyrics for a different approach to his music; 'Answer' and 'PartyIsntOver' shows his softer tune that fits the album's summer camp aesthetic. Again, this and Bastard I will flip ranks on certain days, but I can see why it's the fan favorite among the initial three.

3. CHROMAKOPIA

Being #3 is similar to youtuber Schaffrillas's known ranking videos where no it's not the best, and I won't let recency bias dictate, but it's become a personal favorite and has earned itself being this high. The remaining albums are his unmatched strongest, but this instantly shot up as no less a powerful record from St. Chroma alone. It's the most personal Tyler gets and when it hits, it soars. My hottest take is that 'Sticky' is the track I enjoy the least; fits with the album but doesn't do it for me unlike 'Rah Tah Tah' or 'Thought I Was Dead'. No doubt highly influenced by Kendrick Lamar's Mr Morale, this album feels deceptively simple but the lyrics can relate with deep cuts. This man's in his early 30s and feels that conflicted about it. Fuck a Grammy, give this man a hug and a therapeutic break. My biggest takeaway is that my mother's love and care I will never take for granted. Man is not only fully in his element but having a solid sense of openness that puts the original Wolf trilogy into a better perspective.

2. Call Me If You Get Lost

From what I've seen before listening, I figured that this would be a flex album and Tyler did not disappoint. Baudelaire felt like a real persona, the evolution of Wolf Haley with DJ Drama being the cherry on top. Not only for being a great jab at DJ Khalid after the one sided beef in 2018 but an enjoyable narrator that I couldn't imagine any other for the spot. CMIYGL is just the epitome of earnest swagger, the time where Tyler can finally go guns out with his rap skills while it's not soulessly chest beating. A great consistent mix between his heart and ego, with the consistency making the album that strong every time I listen. The Estate Sale was basically a victory lap upon the existing victory lap that was the base album, giving us a contender for his best closure track with 'SORRY, NOT SORRY'. Then again, this album wouldn't have been possible, wouldn't have earned its existence, without number one.

1. IGOR

I'm very predictable in calling it his magnum opus, I'll admit. I've brought up a few times now that his music can be messy and that applie here, now more on a emotional level than technical. That's what makes it perfect though; embodying the love you had being strung along and eventually crushed, and it sugarcoats nothing. To me IGOR exists as his own character, not just another persona. He embodies how we all can feel when it comes to heartbreak and how ugly the emotions can actually be.

Tyler, The Creator has always been about taking the ugly with the beauty you find from it and this is that perfected. This album's ergonomic where I can hardly listen to one song on its own and was the record I've listened to the most because it got better every time. This isn't even accounting for 'Are We Still Friends', his most unfiltered song that genuinely has me in tears by the end EVERY time; the all-time greatest closer for any album I heard in my life. This felt like more than just Tyler proving himself, but him respecting the oldheads of music with this masterpiece.

Conclusion

The Sargent of OF's music was the first instance I truly grasped what he meant by each album pinpointing the certain periods of his life. He's always looking to show himself and you feel it. Having got into the hype as it happened, the popularity of Chromakopia didn't feel out of nowhere now and I love getting to see it unfold as the moment Tyler has proved once more that he IS that guy. An artist who I say earned his flowers and then some purely because he loves making music. Shit, to me he earned his GOAT status and I can only hope he'll continue for the next era whenever that lives. I won't deny it...

There will Never Ever be another Creator like him

[lettalady]

Word prompt: birthday

oooh another for the Word Prompt Challenge! [ Send me a word (or phrase) and I'll write a story ]

Let's see what stirs. We've seen an Unsettled birthday, as well as something from the world of bodyguard!Tom. Hmm what other birthdays have we seen? Oh yes, we got to see our girl's birthday in YOJA (C37/38). There's not one but two very eventful birthdays that happen in Kept but I've not yet started posting that story from the Art of Villainy world so...

Why did LJH just kick me in the shins?

You round the countertop to see if changing the angle of approach will make any bit of difference. It doesn’t. Frustration fires out of you as you route back to the original starting point and carry on trying to light the many many many candles you’ve stuck into the top of the cake. 

“Ow. Ow. Oh!” You curse as the heat from some of the ones you’re having to reach over kisses the underside of your forearm. Adjusting your reach only helps so much. You’re on a time constraint – some of Heida’s relatives have relayed the alert that they’ve seen Bucky on the approach. 

Nobody to blame here but yourself, admittedly, in choosing individual candles rather than simply picking out the three otherwise needed to indicate age. One – hundred – and – eight. 

Perhaps you should have practiced this rushed moment. You didn’t anticipate how long it would take to light them all. 

Only two thirds of the way through, Bucky’s key turns the door’s lock. 

Caught. “Um… Happy birthday?!” Red handed with a match burning quickly towards your fingertips, you pause to watch his reaction to finding a cake with candles partially aflame. 

Bucky’s initial wide-eyed surprise bleeds into amusement, that bright smile that melts you every time it lands surfacing as he laughs, “You trying to set the building on fire? Guess I got home just in time.” 

The first of the candles you’d lit are burning all too quickly for you to get the whole cake alight on your own. Even as he moves further into the apartment, heading towards your position in the kitchen, you drop the depleted match and pick up another to light off one of the burning candles, “Hang on, hang on. Wait wait. Let me light them before you make a wish.” 

“Yes ma’am.” His laughter is infectious – and he doesn’t stand around waiting. He plucks one of the unlit candles from the top of the cake and starts helping with the process. 

As soon as the cake is fully alight, the first of the candles nearly drips of wax, he leans to blow and extinguish the lot. No songs for Bucky, then. Or perhaps he’s heard too many renditions today to care for another. 

He also doesn’t seem intent on cutting and trying any of the cake. “Now that the fire’s out….” 

He muffles any response you might have to his teasing by scooping you to him to receive a proper welcome home. Yes. Very good thing that the candles are no longer burning rapidly towards the icing atop the cake. You don’t want cake either after he’s through kissing you. 

“Gift time.” 

Your brain is buzzing, whole body alight with desires that have little to do with watching him unwrap anything and everything to do with climbing him and seeing where he’ll land the pair of you. But he’s walking over to the sofa and pushing it forward, reaching behind it to hand you a box. “Wh– Bucky. You do remember that it’s your birthday.” 

Those blue eyes burn bright as he hands over the small package, “I know it. Open the box.” 

A peek under the lid illuminates his intentions. He’s got one present he means to unwrap on his birthday: you, wrapped in red lingerie. The silk ribbon tied into a bow across the chest. Crotchless panties. Ah. A gift for you that is actually a gift for him. “Mm. To try on now? Forget the cake?” 

“Yup. Forget the cake. Till later. Might want to lick icing from my girl at some point tonight, too.”

[slashingdisneypasta]

I've been in a musical mood since I moved into my apartment (Seriously, there's something very satisfying about playing these Broadway songs out loud in your own living room (when my roommate left of course)), and seeing your dark Musical AU Post made me think of musical AU's for my... Oof countless ships 😅 of course you don't have to worry about answering ^^

Smarty-Pop • Phantom of the Opera AU

I have not known peace ever since you briefly mentioned their Erik/Christine dynamic in my sad Smarty-Pop ending drabble, and i mean that in a positive way XD and this gave me the perfect opportunity to explore an actual AU.

I'm thinking maybe Poppy can play a little bit of Madam Giry's role too, being the only one who knows the Phantom's secrets, the only calm one when the Phantom of the Opera strikes and possibly even delivering messages to the opera managers for Smartass. And unlike with the OG story, I like to imagine them in an already established relationship here- just, you know, a little secretive since it's the phantom we're talking about.

It's not uncommon for Poppy to go disappear down in the depths of the Opera House, whether it be through her mirror or one of the trap doors. And if one were to look through her dressing room, you could find many pink roses in various stages of wilt, and letters personally addressed to her written in the same colored ink. She claims she doesn't know who sends her them, but her dreamy smile shows more than just flattery. She leaves her own notes for Smartass as well, leaving them in loge #5 just before a show begins. Just sweet love letters only for his eyes.

No, they don't always agree. Poppy has lost track of how many times she's stormed down to Smartass' domain after something he most certainly did, and all the attention and admirers she had been gaining as her stardom rose have been dangerously grating Smartass' nerves. But at the end of each night, she is his, and he is hers. As it should be.

(Yeah this is partially me venting how i think a Christine x Phantom relationship would have turned out if it was the canon ending XD Also I'd like to point out that you said yandere Snartass might make his S/O marry him, which also correlates with the phantom trying to force Christine's hand. That is totally not going to become part of the Smarty-pop AU) thought XD

Greasypop • Dracula AU

I did struggle with Greasypop admittedly, but then I heard the song Please don't Make Me Love You from the soundtrack and I could not get this dynamic for this ship out of my head. Besides, it gives me an excuse to use the Vampire or the Monster AU XD No matter how you slice it, Dracula is pretty manipulative when you think about it. Especially with how he convinces Mina that Lucy's death was not his doing, which does fit Greasy's more manipulative nature... Not to mention that it'd be his fantasy to have as many hotties as Dracula did 😅

I'm just imagining vampire/incubus Greasy shows up into town, looking to plant his roots here for a while, and Poppy is one of his targets. Poppy can tell that something isn't quite right with him, even when he offers her comfort after she reads about yet another attack in the night. There's just something not right with Greasy.

But even so, she's having a hard time denying what he does to her. Just like how theres something about him that isn't quite right, there's something about him that makes her head feel dizzy. Something that let's his touch linger on her shoulder or arm before she snaps back to her senses. Something that makes her wish those evenings when he shows up unannounced and they wind up sharing a meal together don't end. It's like her heart is trying to give itself to Greasy, and her mind is trying to keep her grounded in reality.

It's not long before she breaks down, feeling like she's being driven mad, and just asks her friend- if he can even be called that- what he wants. She knows Greasy is not who he says he is, and she knows there has to be a reason he keeps coming back to her even though she's made it clear she doesn't want a man right now. Something tells her she doesn't want to know the truth, and yet another something tells her she wouldn't care.

But either way, no matter what, Poppy knows one thing for certain. Her heart can't take much more of this. And she didn't want it to. She doesn't want someone to come around and ruin this tranquility she's built for herself just for his own fun. So she asks, practically begs him, to just don't make her fall in love with him. Don't make her chase after him if he had no intentions of keeping her. Her instincts tell her that this is a terrible idea, that she should have slammed the door on the Spaniard long ago as she locked eyes with him.

But there was just something about him that made her love him.

(Not exactly the Dracula route I meant, I'm still working on it, but I hope it's still fun to read XD)

Peezy • Little Shop of Horrors AU

Ok ok I know this may not sound right but hear me out- Poppy x Wheezy are the most wholesome of the ships, kind of like how Audrey and Symore are wholesome. And also share the fact that Poppy/Audrey still see Wheezy/Seymore as such a good person deep down despite knowing or finding out the things they've done. Not to mention that Wheezy would treat Poppy right just like how Seymore would for Audrey.

Poppy and Wheezy work together in the same flower shop, and they both would agree that they are the high lights of each others work day. It's not exactly hidden that the two have feelings for each other- as their boss blatantly told Wheezy that he knew he thought things about the sweet girl. Though for many reasons, one of which is Poppy's horrid boyfriend Ben, they aren't together.

It was always heart-wrenching and rage inducing whenever Poppy would come in with fresh tears in her eyes, or when she would brush it off as just 'typical relationship struggles'. Wheezy has tried to just keep it to himself, and offer Poppy any comfort she needs. Though the night he got to actually see how that bastard treated her, he decided enough was enough. That bloodthirsty plant was the one who suggested it, but it's not like this wasn't a long time coming anyway.

The next morning, when Poppy is crying out of guilt rather than heartbreak, Wheezy keeps a cool head as he wraps an ashy arm around her and assures her that she shouldn't waste another second on that boy. He was never worth it, not if he couldn't appreciate what he had. Everything is alright now...

(... This was meant to be more fluffy, as fluffy as the original was, but it turned out a bit more manipulative than I intended at the end? I think? 😅 but hey, no one's gonna miss Ben either way-)

Pocho • Sweeny Todd AU

This one is special because here, Poppy is playing the role of Anthony, and Psycho Johanna. Specifically, I'm imagining the part of the play where Johanna is stuck in the asylum and Anthony is trying to break her free. Poppy in the Tiny-Tots AU is trying to set her friend and love free the second she finds out about him being locked away. Even if she has to employ the help of criminals to get him out.

Or, if we want more horror, Psycho is Sweeny, and Poppy is Lucy. Falsely accused of crimes he didn't commit just so the accuser could take his wife. Despite the fight he put up, Psycho and Poppy were separated, and she... Got hurt badly. And Psycho only finds out later when he comes back, now driven over the edge of sanity after all these years. And now, it's time for revenge.

Popshine • The Count of Monte Cristo AU

Another odd choice, I know. I almost gave this AU to Peezy in fact, but... Honestly I don't have too good of an excuse, I just want Shiny to sing Hell to Your Doorstep.

Also, just- can you imagine these girls using threads from their clothes in placement of engagement rings?? Shiny coming back years later, a shell of her former self but still being in love with Poppy despite how angry she is?? Poppy recognizing her immediately despite all that's happened and does her best to convince Shiny she still loves her???? My heart-

(Also I have a strong lesbian need to imagine Shiny in count clothes-)

Griny • Bonnie and Clyde AU

C'mon, how was this not going to be them?? Now granted, the only song I know from that musical is Buck you're going Back to Jail, but I do know the story of Bonnie and Clyde.

Shiny and Greasy would absolutely be criminal lovers on the run if it was just them. They would be such an infamous duo on the road, as they both can get mean when they need to.

(I would add more details to this, but I've been working on this ask for literal hours and I can't just save it as a draft so I'm trying to finish this 😅)

Bonus! Kingston X Poppy • Heathers AU

Ok ok ok I'm not sure if this musical would fit them honestly. Mainly because Kingston is your OC and you have broader musical knowledge than I do, so you know what would fit Kingston best. I just like the idea of Kingston singing I was Meant to Be Yours while Poppy is panicking in a closet.

What Musical would you say fits these two best, if you want to add onto this?

This is a very long ask, I apologize 😅 but I hope it's fun to read! ^^

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH OKAY

Smarty Pop Phantom of the Opera AU: I love how you set this up!! Pink roses at different stages of wilt? Poppy reading 'secret admirer' letters with a dreamy smile?? Ahhhhhhhhh

Greasy Pop Dracula AU: Ooooooh i love this.

please just dont make me fall in love with you, poppy breathes, heavy eyelids tired with life hanging heavy over her pretty eyes. Greasy's in her bedroom (vaguely she notices that he looks caught, for a moment. Eyes a smidge rounder and stock-still). She was sleeping until she had a bad feeling and woke- and saw him there. She should be terrified, she should try to run. She knows this. And yet she feels overwhelmingly calm, even with his wolf-like smile on her in the enclosed space; sleepiness from just a moment ago acting like a sedative. That, and that thing about Greasy that... always just makes everything go s l o w, around her.

(her will, her instincts to get away, her common sense, her movements... )

his smirk in the dark is definitely a warning as he straightens up, the sharp glint of his teeth making her feel a primal discomfort- almost fear.

i make no promises, hermosa. go back to sleep now. and in the morning try to resist; id like to see you try~

goodnight.

poppy watches the nightmare disappear swiftly, inhumanly gracefully, out her open window and only once he's gone- does she start to feel scared.

Peezy Little Shop of Horrors AU: I LOVE THE IDEA OF WHEEZY AND AUDREY II INTERACTING XDD I JUST KNOW IT WOULD BE GREAT XDD Also also-- Wheezy calling Ben 'boy'??? Sarah do you want me dead????? XD

Pocho Sweeney Todd AU: Ahhh, I love how you twisted this one around!! And the second one- woah XD Psycho is, of course, a great Sweeney. Plus they have kids so that works out, too (Imagine Turpin in this sent Percy away to boarding school or something, but kept Penny) I have to admit though that when I first saw the title here I thought Poppy was gonna be Joanna and Psycho was gonna be Anthony- and I thought, Rena would make a g r e a t Judge Turpin 😏 (i'm sorry, i'm thinking about rena in the turpin costume now XD the tight pants?? whoops- )

Griny Bonnie & Clyde AU: I LOVE BONNE & CLYDE I'M LISTENING TO IT RIGHT NOW. And- obviously- yes, this is absolutely perfect XD

Popshine Count of Monte Cristo AU: 🥺💕🥺💕🥺💕

(Also I'm very happy we both have the urge to put our mean bisexual oc's in periodwear XXD )

*just after they conspired to break greays outta jail*:

Seeing you mention You're Going Back To Jail though made me think XDD- who would Buck and Blanche? XDD Buck, Clydes brother who also broke outta prison and Blance, Buck's hardass wife who 's snide towards Clyde and Bonnie and sends her husband back to jail so they can one day be happy? XD My vote is for Jane Doe and Wheezy XD Can you imagine Wheezy gettin' told by his girl to turn his ass back the hell in??? 'what the hell are you talkin' about!??' *audible panic in his tone*

Bye, baby~

See you soon, sugar~

Kingston and Poppy Heathers AU: Oooooh, I could totally see this in the Highschool AU! XD

Hmmmmm, which musical AU should I go dor with King and Poppy... I donno, but I'm thinkin a Beetlejuice AU for Poppy and Rena XD Poppy is Adam (Or Lydia more like. But like grown adult Lydia who gets just as uncomfy as Adam does.), of course, and Rena is BJ XDDD Rena is such a gross femme fatale XD

I think we're a perfect fit, lets make out a bit-

Bigger, further, harder-

C'mon, drop your panties, I'm trynna fill you with wisdom and skill and the instinct to kill-

Gotta haunt til it hurts through the night~

etc

[munchboxart]

Hi I'm making another long post talking whatever bullshit that comes to my mind because I'm insane I guess, this time it's music because I love music. I wanna say before hand, I have 0 knowledge in music so a lot of what I'm gonna describe is just my feelings

You also don't have to read through all of this, you can just listen to the music I've linked and that's enough for me :+]

Anyways I'm gonna be talking about JP songs from the early 2000s or late 1990s (Y2K?) that have this poppy, girly type energy. I'm mostly gonna talk about Serani Poji but I'll talk about other's that I've found too.

Ok so I learned that Serani Poji was originally created for SEGA's (I don't know how they keep finding banger musicians) video game called ROOMMANIA #203, which is crazy because I thought they were kind of an indie group like CAPSULE (I don't even know if that's true) or something. Anyways, a lot, if not all, of Serani Poji's songs were put in their later albums (I believe they're all in Manamoon? But there could be other albums too)

Manamoon by Serani Poji

What a banger debut album. To be honest, I think the only songs I really dislike is Manamoon, but the other songs really make up for it. Like "Octopus Daughter" and "Which one of the twins ?" are so fucking GOOD. And I think "Spiral Da-Hi!" is a perfect representation of what I imagine the idealization of the future would be like? If that makes sense??? Basically like The Jetsons. Also I really like this album cover art, speaks a lot of it's era. It's other album cover is nice too I think, I know it's very simple but it takes a surprisingly a lot of thought to think about the composition/placement of text and what colors to pick and the sizes (curse you Graphic Design class)

I'll talk about One-Room Survival for a bit, I think it's their most popular album? Though, I think that's mainly because of "Pipo Pipo".

One-Room Survival by Serani Poji

I think I like this album more than Manamoon? Or at least I think a lot of the songs here are more memorable/addicting to me (but that also may be because I spent more time listening to this album, I only listened to Serani Poji's other albums recently). "One-Room Survival" and "Where is Smiley?" are probably one of my most favorite songs in this album, especially the latter because I love humming the chorus (where is my friend Smiley????? !!!!!). Lovelabor is also really good, I love Bossa Nova type of music. Also I think this is my favorite album art out of all of Serani Poji's Discography? Maybe it's on par with Manamoons because I like it too, but something like this album in it's simplicity is really nice, and a lot of the songs kind of fit it too to be honest. Merry Go Round Jailhouse's album cover is cute too! I think they're all nice in their own way.

Uhmmm I'll talk about Ochamekan briefly since I haven't spent that much time with it

Ochamekan by Serani Poji

Ok admittedly I haven't heard all of the songs, but I do know that one of my favorite songs #2 Earthling Body(?)/Earth Human Body(??)/地球人のカラダ is in this album. #5 Coffee Shop at Night/夜の喫茶店 is also a really good song by virtue of it being kinda Bossa Nova (or maybe I'm just guessing that genre wrong,,,). Also I think this cover art is very cute!!! Actual blorbo

Ok that ends the Serani Poji section, I'll talk about the other albums I found and maybe mention at least 1 CAPSULE album since I've already talked about them before.

FAKEVOX by Plus-Tech Squeeze Box

I love this album art JHNGFDJKNGDFB ANYWAYS this entire album is a lot more... Hyper? Energetic! Upbeat!! compared to the other albums I mentioned. It leans more to like, Cutie Cinema Replay/Nexus-2060 by CAPSULE. Anyways I think #2 Early Riser is such a fun song, I'd love to make an animatic or animation with it. #7 ☆ is also one of my favorites, it's very cute! The ending song "Clover" Is another favorite, I've listened to it probably the most or just as much as "Early Riser", it's very sweet and nice to listen to while doing chores.

SUPER MIRACLE CIRCUIT by Sonic Coaster Pop

THIS IS THE ALBUM I'VE BEEN MOST EXCITED TO TALK ABOUT. I think out of the album cover art in this post, this has to be my very top (even though you can count every pixel on here). I don't know if this counts because I only started recently liking it, but I really like this type of Y2K visuals and music? IT'S FUN IT'S CUTE IT'S EVERYTHING!! Anyways, I LOVE how all the songs transition to the next one so smoothly. My absolute favorite song here is #3 Super Speed POP☆STAR. Definitely the most listened song on this post, I'd love to make a character design based on this song!!

The songs are pretty long but that's ok, It really helps with the transitions! Also surprisingly, Plus-Tech Squeeze Box has made a remix for them! I think I prefer the original but I love the title "go go EGG mix", that's so fucking silly behavior, let's be whimsical!!

OK so a break, I'll be talking about 2 more albums which are personal favorites. The ones above are a lot more recent albums I've listened to (excluding One-Room Survival) but these last 2 are ones I've had a lot more time with.

Second last album I'll talk about is from CAPSULE, which is the only band here that still makes music to this day I believe? Which makes me really sad, but it makes a lot of the albums here valuable/important, as they're a really good product of their time.

Capsule – L.D.K. Lounge Designers Killer

A Flying City Plan(?)/空飛ぶ都市計画 is such a great starting song. I really wanted to use it for my Frye Splatfest art for Team Aliens, but I went with the Nexus-2060 song "Space Station No. 9" since I think it and the album itself fit more with the "aliens" theme. Anyways, I believe this album is the most latest one on this post? That's ok, I'll give a pass to CAPSULE any time of my life. A lot of the songs here are more chill, very loungy LOL

Also same as always, I love all of the songs in here, I mean it's CAPSULE. It'd be easier to say which songs are the weaker ones for me, which is #3 Lounge Designers Killer (how come the title tracks are the ones to kinda fall off...), and #4 Twinkle Twinkle Poppp! But not because it's a bad song, I just think it's kind of out of place in this album?? Whatever I still like it, anyways #5 TIC TAC and #1 A Flying City Plan are my most favorite songs in this album. Also the little ending song is very sweet :+] <3

LAST THING TO SAY ABOUT THIS ALBUM, #9 do do pi do reminds me. A lot of Tunak Tunak Tun. and it's driving me kind of crazy because I don't know if anyone else also hears it.

Last album is an album I've listened to the most and one I've heard since I was 12. Maybe my most favorite album ever??

NAGISA COSMETIC by NAGISA COSMETIC

I am so... Distraught that they only released one album, because I think they've captured cuteness so perfectly?? NAGISA COSMETIC is a duo consisting of a model and designer, Ichikawa Nagisa and the other half of CAPSULE, producer Nakata Yasutaka. I can't express how much this album means so much to me, like I made my first animation to one of the songs here (#6 retort). I LOVE THIS ALBUMMMMMMMMM, and how I found it was through... OSU 😭 whoever mapped Cosmetic Happy, I love you, you changed my life.

And that's all! Thank you if you read all of this, but thank you too if you just went through the music, I appreciate your time :+] I also made a Google Slide of all the little aesthetics and music I like if you'd like to go through that. I need to update it though but maybe I'll do that next year and leave this one as a 2023 diary

Again, thank you for your time 🫶

[groovesnjams]

"A Psychic Wound" by Los Campesinos!

DV:

Watching Los Campesinos! on their recent US tour, I got hung up on the unique path they've taken through my affections: I loved "International TweeXcore Underground" (which apparently has a video that is a real fucking time capsule) in 2007, but I care a lot more about them as a band now then I did back then - it's like they burrowed their way into my head over the past 17 years without me ever quite noticing. And to be clear about bands I loved in 2007: I saw of Montreal recently; I'll be thrilled if Spiritualized play Chicago again. But seeing them is like catching up with an old friend who I don't have all that much in common with any more. Meanwhile there are Los Campesinos lyrics about my life, about my friends, about my partner! I'm not sure how that happened but it did.

And so Los Camp sound and feel more vital to me now than they did back when I first heard them, and I don't think there's any other artist I can say that about. (Admittedly there's very few artists who have been active since the mid-2000s that you can't describe as "nostalgia acts" at this point - if they're even trying to make new music at all.) So that's what makes LC significant: I've long since lost track of artists whose every word I hung on in 2007, but something like "A Psychic Wound" feels real even now that I can't grow long indie bangs if I wanted to. And maybe the production is a little too sleek, but a lyric like "It’s a cosmic check you never cashed/ Curse the universe for what you lack" is the kind of casually-dropped gem that few bands can manage once in their early days, let alone this far into their run. "A Psychic Wound" makes me wonder if Los Camp maybe will keep going forever, and if maybe they'll be the only band in history where that isn't a mistake. Most importantly, the song sounds like a singalong even before it's over.

MG:

DV and I have seen Los Campesinos! a handful of times over their career and most of those times I had one foot out the door only to be completely charmed by the group's all-in ecstasy. Until this last show I'd say Los Campesinos! were a band best experienced live -- mostly because aside from one brief period during lockdown, I don't listen to their records and this is what creates the little cycle of bliss to indifference in which I swirl. In fact, they are a nostalgia act to me, in that I want every concert to reproduce the same sense of fun and belonging the last concert did. I don't want to like my own sense of nostalgia but I also firmly believe we have no free will in this universe, so alas, here I was, very excited for this most recent concert and totally unaware that Los Campesinos! had gone through some sort of internet-led glow up. Things were going pretty much fine until, in the middle of the show, they acknowledged their newfound popularity and conducted a "marketing survey" where they tested whether or not you became a fan during the nascent days of social media or during its ongoing imperial phase. That's when they completely lost me. What a weirdly pro-Capitalist stance to be one of the few bands capable of maintaining your recording and touring artist career for almost two decades but to only feel successful once you can properly advertise. "A Psychic Wound" does everything a Los Campesinos! song should. It's full of witty lyrics and a chaos of instruments all delivered with a righteous enthusiasm. But now it just gets on my nerves.

[eorziapple]

FFXIV Write 2023 Prompt 30: Amity

(Character: Pippena Pipp, Setting: WoL Pippena, Sprout safe)

Pippena went through another set, moving across the training mat with the precision that only came with experience. Experience, admittedly, that came from an excess of boredom as of late. Turned out saving the country a few times was rather stimulating work, and when there was nothing to save it from for a decent amount of time, one tended to go a little stir crazy.

So... she started teaching, only to be inundated with booooooring students. Rich kids who didn't even want to fight, just had parents wanting the clout of having a kid taught by the vaunted Warrior of Light.

Turned out said parents did not take kindly to their children dearest coming back with bloody knuckles because they didn't listen to an expert on how to throw a punch. She hadn't been so unpopular since the city thought she killed the Sultana.

Speaking of the Sultana, she caught an eye out the window, spying a few of the Sultansworn failing to blend in across the street. She sighed, hoping whataver was going on didn't involve her again, she wasn't really looking forward to fleeing her home city over some brat who whined because fighting, it turned out, was hard.

She heard a ringing as the door opened, sighing, expecting trouble, she turned, only to be met with... a lalafell, clad in pink... gods, she looked familiar. She wracked her brain trying to remember....

"Good evening, Miss Pipp." she introduced herself, sweet voice, probably wealthy, not much younger than she was, by all estimates. "It's nice to see you again, i'm Lady Lilira" she said with a chuckle, and a wink. Pipp was a bit confused, then nodded, finally it came to her. "Oh yeah, you were that lady that Thancred was working for way back when, right? Odd that I never really came across you again, given how often i'm working with that louse." she chuckled, remembering back to the start of her crazy journey. "You been keeping out of trouble? If I recall you were pretty good at getting into it."

The Lady looked a bit flummoxed, confused even, and then chuckled. "I.... aside from a rather unfortunate -dinner- I had, i've been mostly keeping ahead of trouble." Pipp thought the emphasis was a bit odd, then held up a finger beckoning her to wait, "I'm no alchemist, but I did make a little concoction for when I get the runs, it happens to all of us."

Lady Lilira now held a look of abject terror that broke into a fit of laughter. "Oh... dear I'm sorry I uhh.. well, I was hoping that you might be willing to take on a student, heard you were taking them on, and... I've been thinking on the necessity of knowing how to defend myself... without the need for arms or armor."

She sighed, frustrated at the song and dance "That's gonna depend, do you want to do the work?"

She gave a smile and looked down, "I want to learn what you have to teach me. I'll do what it takes. And I can compensate you very fairly."

Pipp smirked, shrugging her shoulders. She reached out her hand. "Can't exactly say no to that, Lilira."

She hesitated, and then offered her own hand, a bit taken aback by the firmness of the handshake. "Very well, i'll be around first thing in the morning."

Nanamo Ul Namo walked out the door, a bright, beeming smile on her face, unable to comprehend that her greatest champion had never figured it out.

[kpodcast]

Have you heard Eite's debut EP Independent woman? It's two songs and they are excellent! I've listened to them so many times that I even dreamt of them xD

Thanks for sending this in!! We're taking the liberty of assuming you intended this ask for me (Minji).

I love listening to new music, and I've really been meaning to get into more girl groups, so this is extra delightful :)

Thoughts below:

INDEPENDENT WOMAN: First, the song is lower energy than I expected. From the title alone, I was anticipating a song more like "3D Woman" by Jamie, which, admittedly, may not seem like a high energy song from the tempo or density of the instrumentation (it's pretty sparse throughout), but it has such strength and an in-your-face attitude. "INDEPENDENT WOMAN" on the other hand, has a driving energy coming from the instrumental, but it's not overwhelming or in-your-face like "3D Woman" is. It's pushing the listener forward, but not in a strong way. It's a little gentler. I LOVE the stop-time at the chorus, where the whole song stops, not just the melody! I was glad they did it at both the first chorus and second chorus, but when I heard the way the bridge(?) at 2:30ish leads into the final chorus, I kinda wished the stop-time only happened on that final chorus because it sounds SO neat, and would be such a cool change!

DANCE IT OUT: I immediately picked up TWICE vibes from this song, especially at 0:32 and the second verse with the raps that feel very speech like (sprechstimme?). The way the instrumental changes at the bridge is very cool, (both as in neat and as in temperature). The sparseness gives us a little break, but it immediately ramps up again with the repeated drum that goes right back into the chorus. Speaking of the final chorus, I LOVE the harmonized backing vocal punctuations at the end!

I'll definitely be keeping an ear out for their future releases!

[wutheringmights]

Hey, this is Star anon after totally not disappearing for half a year again. This is completely different to what I normally come up with, but last chapter’s talk with Time and the especially heavy focus on morality these last three chapters reminded me of a few songs I’d heard from a musical. These being ‘Just a man’, ‘No longer you’ and ‘Monster’ from EPIC the Musical. Fair warning of course that the details don’t always correlate too well, and two of these songs are technically unfinished. Overall the second and third songs remind me of Spirit and Warriors respectively, while the first feels like it could fit either of them. Besides that, thoroughly enjoying your exploration of morality these last few chapters!

Hello Star anon! It's been so long! I'm always so excited to see you pop in. And I'm glad that you're enjoying the morality explorations going on in CTB as of late.

That being said

HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME LISTEN TO EPIC

I have had the (admittedly silly) biggest vendetta against that dang thing since the moment I was forced to listen to that stupid modest goddess sound bite over and over again by un-creative tiktokers. I swore I was NEVER going to give it my attention, even if my main man Odysseus is in it.

But alas, you have forced my hand and I listened to the songs you recommended. Turns out it's not half-bad when it's not trying to sound like a Lin Manual Miranda worst hits playlist.

Anyway, I see where your mind is with your recommendations.

Personally, I think "Just a Man" kinda fits Spirit the best, with that struggle to decide how far he's willing to go to save his skin:

Will these actions haunt my days? Every man I've slain Is the price I pay, endless pain [...] Whose trying to go home Even after all the years away from what I've known

"No Longer You" can also be a Spirit anthem, because boy. When he managed to get back to New Hyrule, he was not the same man who left:

I see the sacrifice of man I see portrayals of betrayals And a brother's final stand I see you on the brink of death I see you draw your final breath I see a man who gets to make it home alive But it's no longer you

"Monster" is 100% Warriors committing to doing whatever it takes to end the war, even if he has to throw his morals out the window, consciously or not:

I'm surrounded by the souls of those I've lost I'm the only whose line I haven't crossed What if the greatest threat we'll find across the sea Is me? [...] What if I'm the one who killed you Every time I caved to guilt?

Thank you for the recommendations, even if I had to listen to this musical. The music's actually not half bad, though I will continue to grumble about it as a part of the bit.