#none of the translations I find quite.... hit

[skibasyndrome]

Random question time!

What’s your go to snack and which movie can you rely on to put you in a good mood and make you laugh?

And also… coffee or tea? 👀

Hope you laugh a lot today💜💜

Hi Lia! So lovely of you to send an ask, thank you! 💜

Hmmm, idk if I have a go-to snack, because I easily get tired of foods if I have them too often. But you can never go wrong with a banana I guess (it has to be very greenish yellow though).

Movies idkkkk, I really don't watch a lot of movies tbh, so I kind of gotta rely on the ones I know from my childhood and I feel like anything by Loriot is an evergreen (especially Pappa Ante Portas, like.... the more I get into contact with like... Bildungsbürgertum kinda people in Germany the more accurate and hilarious it is.

And if you're asking black tea vs. coffee - definitely coffee! But I also love fruity teas a lot :)

And that's so sweet 🥹🫶 I actually did have a great time today, I hope it was similar for you!

[effetsecndaires]

— 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠. (𝐡𝐜𝐬)

INCLUDES: kazutora hanemiya, ken ryuguji, manjiro sano, hajime kokonoi, hanma shuji, keisuke baji, izana kurokawa

CONTENT WARNING: some misogyny

NOTE: I made these into headcanons, hope you don't mind 🤍 your gang is called 'jotei rengou' (literal translation: empress union) idk it sounded cool

— KAZUTORA.

When Kazutora finds out about your gang, he's surprised, to say the least - and not in a good way. To him, women don't belong in the delinquent world and he'll act hostile towards your gang in response, immediately seeing you as an obstacle to overcome, something to get rid of before it can cause too much trouble.

He has some deeply ingrained beliefs about strength and power so he finds it hard to believe that a women-only gang could rival any of the male-dominated gangs of Tokyo anyway.

However, when a fight breaks out between your gangs, Kazutora finds himself intrigued and slightly impressed by your strength. He watches you, analyses your technique, and he eventually recognizes that you are worthy of your title and are obviously not here by mistake.

He ends up developing a strange but genuine sense of respect and admiration for you — though you'll never catch him admitting that out loud.

"So...you're the girl who claims to be leading one of Japan's biggest gangs?" he looks you up and down. "Don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're a woman."

"Ha. I wouldn't expect you to. I've heard a lot about you, Hanemiya. You've got quite the reputation, you know?" you smirked. "But let's see if you can back up that talk with action."

— DRAKEN.

Draken's calm nature leads him to be open-minded and respectful towards you and your gang — doesn't matter if your first encounter is friendly or a little less amicable. He's surprised to see that a gang like yours exist, that's for sure, but he admires your strength and leadership qualities more than he worries about the 'women only' aspect of it.

He probably wouldn't want to get involved with you, though. He's totally against hitting women no matter what, so, with Mikey's approval, he'll try to find a common ground with you and offer compromises that could benefit both sides in order to avoid confrontation.

He might also harbour a tiny crush on you or one of your gang members.... But that's none of anyone's business.

— MIKEY.

Mikey takes you and your gang very seriously right from the start, and he quickly learns that: 1) you're not to be messed with, and 2) underestimating and belittling you would be a huge mistake.

However, just like Draken, fighting and hurting women in any way is a no-no. Not because he doesn't think you're capable of fighting back, far from it, but because keeping women safe has always been one of Toman's top priorities. He'll only fight you if he absolutely has to, that means only if your gang is pure evil or an actual threat to Toman.

On the contrary, if your gangs grow closer over the years, he'll gladly accept a friendly fight with you or your girls.

Although he doesn't really show it, Mikey is very admirative of you — a feeling that only intensifies when he finds out that the Jotei Rengou actually shares most of Toman's beliefs and is really similar to it in multiple aspects. He's also surprised by your strength and strategic thinking, which earns his silent admiration.

It kind of makes him want to welcome women into his own gang.

— KOKONOI.

Koko will treat your gang like any other gang. The fact that you're all women matters very little to him. You know what you got yourself into when you entered the world of street gangs and delinquency, therefore you must know what you're doing and you probably know how to fight back.

Koko immediately sees the power and influence you hold over your gang as you lead and command them, and he soon starts to see you as a valuable ally or potential rival, depending on how your gangs' first interaction unfolds.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued by your backstory and your rise to power, because he knows you must've gone through hell and back before people actually started taking you seriously and accepted you as one of Japan's most notorious gangs.

"I don't remember inviting outsiders to my territory."

"I couldn't resist the chance to meet you!You're a hard one to find, you know?" he said, opening his arms and sticking his tongue out. "I've dreamed of this moment, Jotei Rengou."

— HANMA.

The first time Valhalla and Jotei Rengou come face to face, Hanma laughs. He laughs because it's evident to him that you don't belong at the head of a gang, and he makes sure you know how unserious he thinks your 'pathetic little gang' is.

He tries to provoke you by insulting you and your methods, clearly wanting to test your patience. However, he quickly realizes that you're not easily swayed by his manipulation tactics, having no trouble firing back at him.

Hanma finds you intriguing, and although he won't openly admit it, he's secretly impressed by your ability to stay calm and command respect and loyalty from your gang members — who all look extremely hot and badass, he must admit.

Hanma quickly starts thinking about how he could use your influence and power to his own advantage. He sees you as a potential ally or a stepping stone to achieve his goals.

— BAJI.

Baji is absolutely thrilled by the idea of facing such powerful women as opponents.

Though he can't do much without Mikey's approval, he sees this encounter as an opportunity for a great adrenaline-pumping battle. A rival gang is a rival gang, your gender doesn't hold him back in the slightest.

He's heard the rumors and whispers about the Jotei Rengou so he knows how serious you are about this — and although he'll approach you with a his usual cocky attitude, the last thing he'll do is underestimate you. The things he knows only fuels his determination further, and he looks forward to testing his skills against such interesting opponents.

"Well, well, well...what do we have here?" Baji smirks. "The Jotei Rengou and their infamous leader in person. Bold move showing up here, ladies."

"Hey, let's cut the small talk and make this interesting, shall we?" you smirk back, getting off your bike. "I'll show you what my gang's made of, and you boys can try to keep up."

— IZANA.

Izana is intrigued, but he doesn't take your gang seriously. He's heard of you and the damage you've done around Tokyo, but he's convinced that someone else is behind your crimes. He firmly believes that a woman's strength couldn't possibly match up to a man's, let alone his own.

But when you effortlessly take down some of Tenjiku's strongest members, Izana's initial arrogance towards you immediately starts to fade. He finds himself getting more and more frustrated as your fighting style proves to be just as efficient as his own.

Despite being impressed, Izana refuses to let his feelings show. Instead, he starts analyzing your moves, determined to find a weakness to exploit and make you regret ever crossing his path.

[staytinyville]

Kiss a Girl

↣ Summary: When Bang Chan is finally over a break up, he comes across someone that seemed to make things feel like he was a high schooler again.

↣ Characters/Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

↣ Genre: fluff

↣ AU/Trope info: idol!au, webtoon artist!reader, foreign!reader, post break-up, song inspired fic

↣ Word Count: 2.9k

↣ Warnings: none

↣ A/N: I am from Texas where country songs are just a must. I grew up on like 2000s country songs and will always go back to them lol. But I heard Keith Urban while I was in the store the other day and was like. This is giving Bang Chan. Could it be because they are both Australian? Quite possibly. But TBH I do wanna hear Bang Chan sing one of Keith Urban’s songs. 

Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist

↣ Affiliates: @cultofdionysusnet , @k-labels , @k-vanity

↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!

You have been in Korea for the past month doing some things for a work project you would never have thought to be possible. You were just a simple college kid a couple years ago who enjoyed making comics about a couple OC you created years ago. When the story became a hit around the world it garnered a lot of attention. 

Especially TV companies that were asking you if they could create your story into a series. 

You, being someone who was studying in the entertainment industry, agreed they could use it so long as you were allowed to work on the project with them. Your credits in college really help to put them along for the ride. Now you were going to be living in Korea for a bit until production finished and the whole series came out on the TV. 

In the past month, you had made some good friends with the people you worked with. There were A-list actors who enjoyed your company and sometimes would invite you out to go drinking with them. While you did enjoy going with them, you found yourself attached to your translator a lot more compared to them. 

It was easy to find people who spoke English, especially in the area you were working in. But the way your translator had to stick closer to you than others, you both found yourselves becoming close friends. And for them, as someone who worked closely in an industry that called for a lot of high ends, they were the ones who often took you out to fancy places where normal people would only wait years to get reservations. 

“This is a very classy spot.” You told your friend as you looked around the club. 

“It's a very high end club.” Your friend/translator told you. “Like only a select few people can get in.”

You laughed out loud. “How did you pull it off then?” You asked. 

“Did you forget where it is that we work at?” They laughed. “Of course we are going to get the best stuff. Just gotta be careful because they will make us sign NDA.” They deadpanned at the end. 

You laughed even louder. You glanced around for a moment to find where the bar was, easily spotting it along with a crowd. Just as you were about to head in that direction, you froze for a moment just as someone passed in front of you.

You let out a polite excuse me, bowing your head just a bit. The person looked at you oddly for a moment before giving you a small smile and telling you it was alright. When the man began to walk away, you tried to keep a neutral face, but were secretly panicking inside over you had just ran into. 

“Bro!” You gasped quietly, smacking your friend’s arm. “Did I just see Yugyeom? Like the idol?” You gushed. 

“Probably.” They looked over your shoulders, frowning as they nodded. “This is a popular club for idols because it's so exclusive.”

“Why would you bring me here?” You looked at them wide eyed, feeling like you were going to make a fool of yourself and risk a lot of things. 

“This is where a lot of people in the entertainment industry come when they want to experience normal things. Like a club.” They explained to you. “This place is also really popular with the younger generations. You’ll probably come across a couple of people winding down from promotions and stuff.”

You did in fact see a couple of more idols. Your friend was the one who explained to you who was in attendance at the club for the ones you weren’t able to pick out right away. There was a good amount of older people as well, at least at the bar. 

Once you got a drink in, you dragged your friend out to dance, laughing as songs you weren’t able to make out the words to blasted on the speakers. WIth how much your smile seemed to stretch across your face, other people began to notice you. Many of them were much to shy or reserved to go out and dance along with you but there were a few who wanted to feel your excitable energy. 

“Hello.” A girl smiled while talking in English, coming into your closer circle. 

“Hi.” You beamed, holding your hands out to grab onto hers. “Come dance!” You swung her arms around as you tried your best to not look like a fool. 

But it seemed the more others drank and the night went on, you didn’t have to worry much about that. Things would never change once people had alcohol in their systems to make them let loose just a bit. 

With you dancing along with the girl, a lot more came to join your side as your contagious positive attitude had an effect on others around you. 

“Like this.” The girl laughed, trying to copy your silly jumps.

“Yes!” You laughed, trying to get others to dance as well. 

Just as a large crowd was beginning to form on the dance floor, there were others going around and enjoying their time with friends. There was an idol who had just arrived after finally getting out of his post-break-up slump. He was ready to get back out there and mingle with new people after being in a mental blockage when it came to friends. 

His bandmates had gotten him to agree to going out with his closer friends that weren’t any of them. They had other things to do, which did make him a bit upset but as they had told him, he had a life outside of them as well. 

“Chan!” Yugyeom hugged the man’s side. “Look at you! Finally out.” He said, showing him towards where the others of the group were. 

“I don't know.” Chan nodded to himself. “I'm ready to be out.” He said. 

“For once and it's not in the studio.” Another one of their friends teased, lightly punching Chan in the arm. 

The Australian laughed, looking around the club he had not been to in a while. He took in the large crowd that was going on around the dance floor. 

“There's a foreigner?” He furrowed his eyebrows, turning to the others. 

“She's cute!” A friend called out. “Been dancing and getting others to join. Seems social.” He added. 

“I'm going to go ask her to dance.” Yugyeom called out, going to join the crowd. 

Once others saw the boy coming down to stand next to the floor, everyone else seemed to join as well, having you get sucked into the crowd that was chanting as songs continued. Yugyeom came up to you giving you a smile as he caught your attention. 

“Dance?” He asked you.

“Oh, sure!?” You nodded your head, moving to turn and face him as his song started to play. You laughed watching as he tried to explain to you the dance moves that came along with it. 

You kept laughing, cheeks hurting from the fun you were having. You hadn’t really gotten the chance to experience something like this back home. You have been to bars but the energy isn’t the same as a club that was meant to pump people full of adrenaline. You enjoyed the atmosphere, it helped your need to be social. 

“Yes.” Yugyeom gushed in English that had an accent. “Like that. Good!” He gave you thumbs up to show that you were correct. 

You laughed at his way of trying to speak to you. You waved him off, telling him thank you in Korean which made him laugh even more. He tried to have a conversation with you, but you laughed most of it and tried to explain to him he needed to speak slowly in order for you to understand just a bit more. 

When a new song came on, you hadn’t noticed someone else coming up to your side. All you did was turn to face the DJ stand as you began to sing to Stray Kids TOPLINE. You laughed as those around you began to do the same, in your own world. You turned to the person next to you, shouting out lyrics as you both gave off the same energy. 

You started singing louder when you noticed it had been Bang Chan singing along with you. The chorus came around and you fully turned to give him your attention, trying to keep up. Bang Chan felt something in his chest as he danced with you to his own song. It wasn’t that he was proud, it was just that he seemed to be content with how you didn’t seem phased with who he was. 

When the song came to an end, you clapped for Bang Chan, giving him a dazzling smile that made him turn his lips up. 

“You know Stray Kids!?” He asked you, shouting over the speakers. 

“No, who are they!?” You shouted back, face looking serious. 

You almost laughed at how Bang Chan’s eyes went wide and he looked at a loss for words. “I'm just kidding. It's really nice to meet you.” You gushed, bowing your head.

“Oh, you don't need to bow.” Chan awkwardly giggled. “It's okay.”

“I got used to it here!” You told him, coming to stand up straight. 

“Would you like to sit with me?” He asked you after a moment.

Your eyebrows raised, eyes wide as you took in his question. Looking just around him, you noticed your friend quickly nodding their heads, telling you to accept the offer. 

“Am I allowed to?” You laughed.

He thought about it for a moment, looking over at his group of friends. “Ah, if you don't tell anyone.” Chan chuckled. 

“Sounds like a risk.” You hummed. “I'll take it.” The smile you had made Chan a bit dizzy.

It had been so long since he had seen someone look at him that way. He had a ton of people look at him that way actually, but never to someone who made it seem like they just wanted to be friends. Chan had no problems with hookups, but it was refreshing to meet someone who wasn’t over him because they knew him. 

You did know him–sure–but you were taking into account who he was which made you a bit cautious. While it was normal for others to be that way, you weren’t scared of talking to him like you had been friends for years. 

When he showed you where his friend group were, you laughed a little at how they seemed to begin hollering when Chan brought you over. 

“Don't listen to them.” He shook his head. 

“Even if I did, I don't think I'd understand much.” You told him honestly. 

“Are you visiting then?” Chan asked, allowing you to sit down first before he sat in front of you. 

The music was much quieter in the area, but you figured it had to do with the fact that the table was sectioned off in the VIP. They had their own bar as well, classy stuff. 

“It's for work. I'm going to be here for a few months.” You answered him. “I did study what I could but I still need people to talk slowly.” You explained. 

“Ah, I see. I see. Lucky you, I speak English.” He laughed. 

“Even if you didn't, I'd try my best.” You nodded your head. “Miss the chance to speak with Bang Chan? Mega producer who’s part of 3RACHA?” You gushed, making his face turn red. 

“I wouldn't say mega.” Chan shrugged, getting bashful. 

“I mean I don't know.” You pursed your lips in thought. “The Scoville scale is out here close to blowing up.” You laughed. 

Chan bursted out laughing, cheeks hurting from how much he was stretching them. “You're cool.” He told you. 

“Why thank you!” You waved him off. “I pride myself on being cool.” You said.

“Han would like you.”

“Just going to drop bandmates on me as if I'm not freaking out on the inside.” You suddenly said, making him laugh. 

“You and I both.” Chan answered truthfully. 

“No! Please don't! It's all cool!” Your eyes went wide hearing his confession.

You both spent a good hour sitting at the table laughing about stories that would come up or just things about the other’s life. Chan hadn’t noticed when his friends would get up to get more drinks or when they would go out to dance. And they didn’t want to disrupt you two either, eyeing each other with smirking as they teased the poor boy behind his back. 

Before you knew it, you were telling your friend that you would be heading back to your temporary home with Chan as company. They gave Chan a thankful smile, bowing down in respect for someone of higher standard. But they told you to be careful, having gotten used to you always telling others that whenever they would leave. 

You found yourself outside some plaza eating Tteokbokki from a small restaurant outside on the sidewalk. The night was nice and cool, leaving you in a refreshed feeling after having danced in the hot club. Chan was laughing at you struggling to get the rice cake on your chopsticks. 

“Why would you eat it like that!?” He laughed, covering his mouth.

“I can't pick it up with the chopsticks!” You exclaimed, stabbing the rice cake treat with both chopsticks so it looked like you were at least eating them correctly. You managed to put it in your mouth before looking up at Chan who was pursing his lips. 

“Don't look at me like that!” You gushed, smile on your face. 

“It's like this.” He moved closer to you, trying to get you to hold the chopsticks correctly. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t know how to use them, it was just that trying to pick up slippery food proved to be harder than you cared to admit. 

“I'm trying!” You exclaimed, moving closer to him as he kept trying to put some food on your chopsticks. 

As you were moving to place it in your mouth, the slippery cake fell from your utensils and onto the floor. “My Tteokbokki!” You cried out.

“Ok fine. Keep stabbing it.” Chan laughed, giving up.

Next thing you knew the night had come to an end and Chan had walked you to the building you were staying at. He had his hands in his pockets, looking up at the tall apartment building before giving you a kind smile. 

“This is me.” You told him. “I had a great time.” You confessed. 

“Me too.” Chan smiled softly. “Thank you for coming out with me.” He added. 

You laughed as your face flushed red. “Of course. Thank you for inviting.” You told him. 

“Ah. I guess I'll see you.” Chan nodded his head, shoulders dropping for just a moment. 

“Yeah.” You nodded your head, soft smile on your face. “I had a really great time. I mean it—thank you for taking me out. Only could ever dream of something like that.” You told him honestly. 

“Yeah.” Chan thought about something for a moment, which made you stop from going in completely. “Ah, is it okay if I ask for your number?” He asked you.

“I mean for me it is but is it for you?” You joked once more. 

“Sounds like a risk. I'll take it.” He mocked you from earlier.  

“You know though, I really don't want to make you sign an NDA.” He quickly added after you both traded numbers. 

“To kiss and tell is just not my style.” You sang off, grinning from ear to ear. 

Chan laughed for a moment, understanding your joke. “But the night is young and it's been a while.” He played along. 

“Ah, you know it! Wasn't expecting you to honestly.” You told him.

“I'm a music producer—I listen to a lot of things. Besides, it's kinda relatable.” He smiled a little, looking down as he took in a calming breath. 

You weren’t going to ask about it, it wasn’t your place. You knew what the song was about–it was one you had heard since you were a little kid. Besides, Chan was an idol who had secrets to keep from the public. That was one of the first things you had to get used to when moving to Korea and working in the entertainment industry. 

“Then I'm happy to be that girl you wanna kiss.” You joked, thinking about the rest of the song.

“I wouldn't go that far.” He laughed, shaking his head. 

You gasped, eyes going wide at the scene you had just made. “Making me sound like a fool then. Ah, forget about it.” You said in a rush, face red from actual embarrassment this time. 

“No, I don't think I will.” Chan hummed, stepping closer to you. 

You watched him step closer, feeling your heart stop for just a moment as he placed his lips against your cheek. “Goodnight, (Y/N).” He told you softly.

“Goodnight Chan.” You smiled. 

You waved him off, turning around when a cold breeze blew past you. He continued on his journey towards his car parked in the front of the building. 

“I wanna kiss a girl. I wanna hold her right. Maybe make a little magic under the moonlight.” You sang to yourself, nodding your head along to the nonexistent beat you were playing in your head. 

“Don't wanna go too far just to take it slow. But I shouldn't be lonely in this big ol world. I wanna kiss a girl.” Chan quietly sang to himself as he walked home. 

Permanent Taglist: @hecateslittlewitchling , @ldysmfrst , @rln-byg , @vampcharxter , @angieskzzzz , @puppyminnnie , @marvel-potter-1d-korea , @smilingtokki

[my-my-my]

KINKTOBER DAY 4 - Aphrodisiacs: Mayuri Kurotsuchi x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Captain Kurotsuchi needs bodies for his new inventions, and a random old shopkeeper in District 53 has clients to serve. Distribution of illicit drugs seems to transcend the World of the Living, with shinigami and regular souls alike, flocking to the market, but how does Captain Kurotsuchi test his products in the first place?

TW: MDNI! Abuse of power, Mayuri having no sense of ethical obligations as a researcher, what I think drug dealing/trafficking would look like in Soul Society, fictional recreational drugs, dubious consent, fondling, non-consensual drug use.

Word count: 2516

Read on AO3 here.

 “Kurotsuchi-san, thank you for the products last month. It was quite the hit with my customers.” The elderly woman prattled on as she hobbled around her store. Dried plants, herbs and bottles containing questionable liquid filled every nook and cranny of the shop.

“Did any of them report side-effects?” He asked, inspecting her wares, taking fistfuls of items into his haori’s pockets. He continued to rummage through the store, as the old lady watched in amusement.

“Aside from what you told me before hand, no, none did. They remarked they all felt refreshed.” To which Mayuri looked at her, then immediately grabbed something off the shelf behind her. “If you could make that batch again, it will be hit. I can find the ingredients that you need.”

“You will sell what I make.” Mayuri sneered, looking down at the old woman, “I don’t take orders.” But he continued to take things off her shelves.

The woman laughed, “yes, yes. Of course.” She walked over to where she kept her money and pulled out a small, yet heavy pouch, “this was the share from last month.” Mayuri held the pouch in his hand, opening it up and nodding at the money inside. “And of course, everything is on the house for you.” She smiled as he walked out of her store without as much as a goodbye.

Mayuri reviewed the notes he made about the different products he invented under the guise of “research” for the Gotei 13. A few members across the 13 squads knew of his backdoor research, but none dared to report him to the Head Captain.

For all intents and purposes, the Head Captain believed that Mayuri was conducting research for the betterment of Soul Society…

And it just so happens that some of his products fit in line with that thinking.

Technologies, therapies, interventions, Mayuri has done it all, but only a few of them ever see the light of day. Which is how he aligned himself with the herbalist on the outskirts of Rukongai District 53. She would distribute his products to the masses that travelled through her shop, and he would have a willing patient population to test his inventions. They would both profit off the success.

Last month’s product was some type of pain-relief liquid. This month he wanted to try something different.

Taking out all the items he had taken from the woman’s shop, Mayuri inspected each item carefully. Nemu and Akon approached him but left immediately as he shrieked at them to leave.

He trusted Nemu and Akon more than any of the other seated members of his squad, but this process was for him alone. No one was to interrupt him. And so, Mayuri continued his inspection, scrapping off bits of each item, suspending liquids in other liquids. He analyzed and tested different formulas, noting down each one.

Hours had passed, then days, and later weeks. Mayuri would only leave his lab if “the idiots” needed him for something. To which Nemu and Akon translated it as “anyone” outside the two of them that needed his attention.

But at last, his product was complete. Now he needed test subjects.

Mayuri walked along the corridors of the Shinigami Research and Development Institute, disregarding all the fuss and commotion they brought when they noticed him around. He paid no attention to them; they weren’t the test subjects he was looking for.

Instead he made his way to the connected, yet distinct, Squad 12 barracks. Not all his members were involved in the SRDI’s mandate, nor did he want them too, “that would be too boring.” He coldly explained the other captains, not knowing he just wanted soldiers to experiment on that weren’t working in the SRDI as well. That would make things complicated if an invention of his backfired.

You on the other hand, didn’t notice your captain immediately, as you were preoccupied bringing in large manuals of some chemicals for the institute. You dropped the heavy load when you heard Captain Kurotsuchi shriek your name.

Turning around, you bowed your head immediately to the man, “good morning, Captain!” You yelled. You didn’t want to admit it to you friends in other squads, but your own captain terrified you.

“What are your duties today?” Mayuri asked, peering at you as you remained bowed to him.

“I’m delivering these manuals to Lieutenant Akon, then picking up chemicals for Hiyosu, sir!” You answered, anxiety crawling through your body as you felt Captain Kurotsuchi stare at you intensely.

“Deliver these to Akon, then meet me in my lab, immediately. Ignore Hiyosu’s request.” “Yes, sir!” You yelled, watching him walk away, while you struggled to carry the manuals to Akon.

You fidgeted in front of the heavy, locked door to the captain’s personal lab. You weren’t sure if you should knock, announce yourself, or maybe the captain had a secret camera somewhere and didn’t see you there.

But without warning, the door immediately jolted open, scaring you. But you pushed through your fear and entered the lab.

There were numerous devices thrown around, with open bottles, of what you assumed were chemicals, covering several tables and lab benches. The lab smelt bizarre, but it wasn’t necessarily off-putting, yet it wasn’t sterile like you imagined it to be.

You saw Captain Kurotsuchi type something away, scoffing and typing faster. He glanced at you and then resumed typing. You stood there, waiting for him, as he continued to type. You tried to stifle a yawn as you looked around the lab again, “Sir, how long do I have to wait? Lieutenant Akon gave me some additional duties to attend to.” You politely asked.

“And when does Akon’s orders supersede mine?” Mayuri coldly said, the atmosphere of the room getting chilly as your anxiety was going into overtime.

“It doesn’t! I just wanted to be mindful, that’s all.” You nervously explained. You noticed you were sweating and tried to calm yourself.

“Are you nervous?” Captain Kurotsuchi asked, as he moved away from his computer. He stared at you intensely, his golden eyes scanning over your body, as if he was dissecting you.

“No! I’m not.” You lied, hoping your voice came across as confident.

The captain grabbed your hand and forced your wrist open, shoving an innocuous blue pill into your palm. “Take this, it’ll help with the sweat.”

You wanted to die. Your captain noticed you profusely sweating and commented on it. You stared at the pill, your hand slightly shaking, while anxiety filled you up again. Your gut began to turn as you brought the pill to your lips. A part of you doubted the pill would do anything but calm you down.

“Well on with it!” Captain Kurotsuchi yelled, “you said you didn’t have all day!”

“Y-Yes sir!” You stuttered, shoving the pill into your mouth. You struggled to swallow it, noticing your mouth was incredibly dry, but managed to get it down.

It was then Captain Kurotsuchi pushed you on to a chair, and wrist and ankle shackles were thrust on to you. “S-sir?” You asked, eyes bulging. Your anxiety was rampant. “What is this for?”

“It’s a test.” Captain Kurotsuchi said, watching you.

A test?! Your mind screamed. “Why am I being tested?” You pleaded, shaking in your seat.

Captain Kurotsuchi rolled his eyes, “not a test for you, fool. A test for the medication.”

“But you said it would help with my nerves!” You panicked, shaking even harder in your seat.

“In theory, yes, but it hasn’t been tested until now.” You began to hyperventilate at what you were hearing. Until… your brain felt like everything was going by slowly.

Huh? What’s going on? It was as if your anxiety melted away and you were faced with something… pleasant? You stared at your captain but were unable to say anything.

You heard him say something, you saw his lips move, but you weren’t processing what was said.

Captain Kurotsuchi approached you and inspected your body. He poked your face, prodded your chest and flicked your wrists. He took samples of your blood and saliva, while checking your dilated eyes.

Little did he realize; his touch was doing something to you.

You sighed, happily, “sir that feels so good” as you leaned into your seat. Your body felt sensitive, but not in pain. You didn’t notice the vials of blood he had taken from you already.

The captain looked at you in curiosity, and this time undid a portion of your uniform, leaving your chest bare. Another blissful sigh escaped your lips as Captain Kurotsuchi lightly touched your chest.

“Does this feel good?” The captain asked, grabbing your face. You grinned and nodded your head.

“It feels really good.” You mumbled, drool dribbling down your lips. You felt the familiar pangs of arousal flaring across your body, causing you to squirm.

Captain Kurotsuchi stepped back and watched you writhe, taking note of all the physical symptoms you were displaying. “What else do you feel right now?” He asked, staring at you.

But you didn’t respond, eyes glazed over as your hips moved within the confines of the seat. The motion you made felt good, too good you thought, and you needed more of that.

And so you proceeded to rock your hips back and forth, the friction from the seat rubbing against your growing arousal. You moaned loudly and threw your head back and continued on, your hips moving faster as you orgasm came closer. Captain Kurotsuchi sighed, approaching you once more. He slapped your face, to which you gave another loud moan. Your pace didn’t slack

You saw the captain’s lips move and felt something bind and secure your hips. You whined at the sudden loss; you were so close! Until you felt the cold hand of your captain down your pants. Your legs were already spread apart from the ankle shackles, leaving Captain Kurotsuchi with easy access. You groaned again as you felt him touch you.

Captain Kurotsuchi’s touch was merciless though, as he aggressively touched you, feeling your arousal spread against his fingers and in your pants. You then realized you didn’t feel the hip bindings anymore, and let your hips slam up and down the seat, his hand still touching you vigorously.

You bit your lip, and wondered if you tasted blood? You couldn’t tell, but everything felt amazing, yet surreal. It was then you felt the captain push his palm against you, rubbing more vigorously than before. The intensity was too much to bear, and you cried, your orgasm ripping through.

A scream erupted in the lab and Mayuri watched you slump into the seat, unconscious.

Captain Kurotsuchi removed his hand from your pants, inspecting the remnants of your arousal covering his fingers and palm. He pulled your hair, forcing your head up to his level, but you were out cold. He slapped your face again, but no response.

He scoffed at you, rubbing his hands on your uniform as if to clean them. Not satisfied, he washed his hands in the nearby sink. He watched you in the corner of his eye to track how long it would take you to wake up. Once he was clean, he undid the shackles and left you in your seat.

He proceeded to type away today’s event in his product diary. Roughly two hours had passed, and you awoke, which he noted. Your clothes were still on your body, albeit barely, but before you could register what just happened, the captain handed you another pill and you forgot what had even happened.

“I’m sorry about that Captain Kurotsuchi. Did you need me for something?” You asked, confused as to why you were sitting in a seat, and he was staring at you intensely.

“How’s your anxiety?” He asked, his eyes focusing on you.

My anxiety? You thought, “well, I don’t feel anxious right now.”

“Anything else?”

“Um…” you hesitated, trying to think, “my body feels relaxed, like I got a massage?” You tried to explain.

“Nothing else?”

“Not really. I feel fine.” You remarked, checking your body. You remembered taking a pill, then waking up.

“The pill you gave me…” you asked, as you fidgeted in your seat, “does it make you fall asleep after?”

“Yes.” Captain Kurotsuchi lied. “Now get out. You’re done here for the day.” He turned around and went back to his computer, typing away once again.

“Yes, sir!” You squealed, bolting out of his lab. “These soldiers today are a bunch of noisy imbeciles.” Mayuri muttered under his breath, as his lab doors shut close once again.

It was a rare moment to have a day off from your squad duties. Months had passed since the incident with Captain Kurotsuchi, and the memories of it fading from your mind. But you remained grateful to not have done any further direct work for him. Your friends, from other squads, had decided to visit District 53, as they heard rumours of an herbalist with unique concoctions that would heal the body, mind and soul. One of your friends admitted they were struggling with some intimacy issues and Squad 4’s treatment options weren’t working. Your friend had heard that this herbalist would have something to cure that.

You and your friends browsed through the shop, taking stock of what was there, when your friend spoke to the shopkeeper. Although they were quiet, you could hear whispers of “trouble” and “hard to orgasm.” The old lady smiled at them, “I have just the remedy for that, my dear.” You went over and saw her pack in a small bottle of familiar blue pills.

“I’ve had these before!” You exclaimed, “they work wonders. I felt amazing afterwards.”

Your friend stared at you in shock, but the shopkeeper gave you a wide grin, “is that so? I’ve been selling them for a while now.” The old lady rambled, “they’re quite popular with you Shinigami folk.” She cackled, packing the bottle into a pouch. “I’ll pass that along to the creator” she kept laughing, “I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic.”

“When did you take these?” Your friend asked, “you never mentioned it.”

You thought about it, but you couldn’t remember when exactly, but the vivid colour of the pill was seared in your memory, as well as the pleasant association you had with it. “I’m not sure, but I think I took it when I had a really bad anxiety spell. I don’t even remember where I got it from.” You said, trying to recall when and where you took it.

But nothing came up, and strangely enough, you couldn’t recall an blanks or gaps in your memory.

“Or maybe I dreamt it.” You laughed, “I can’t even describe the feeling anymore, I just remember feeling good when I took it.”

“Well if it’s good enough for you, then I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Your friend joked, paying the shopkeeper. Soon night was approaching, and you escorted your friend back to their barracks. Once you made it to the Squad 12 barracks, you made a mental note to ask Captain Kurotsuchi if he knew about the little blue pill.

Thanks for reading!! Mayuri is definitely an interesting character to write for, so I'm not completely sure I nailed it. Either way, I hope you guys enjoy it!

[randombush3]

roadside romance

leila ouahabi x reader

summary: when leila’s car breaks down, you come to the rescue

words: 2037

notes: this is an ode to british weather and hot mechanics. i know nothing about cars but i learnt something while writing this!!!!

this was requested btw 🫡

It’s just fucking inconvenient. A closure on the motorway means that they have to take a detour down winding, country roads. And Leila has a sneaking suspicion that her car is going to stop functioning at any given minute now that the blinking, red light has become a permanent fixture on her dashboard.

Leila had looked at her friends apprehensively the minute the light had appeared, but Ona didn’t care and Laia was too wrapped up in posting their day trip to Blackpool on her Instagram to offer any worthwhile advice.

So, lacking expertise and a good enough grasp of English geography to find a nearby mechanic, Leila had carried on with their journey. It was only another hour to Manchester after all.

Which leads them to now, stranded on the side of the road. Laia and Leila stood outside of the car, while Ona spreads out as she naps in the backseat, none the wiser to the situation they have landed themselves in.

“Can’t you just fix it?” Laia asks her friend as they stare at the bonnet helplessly. “You seem like you know how to fix cars.”

Leila places an uncertain hand on the shiny metal, wondering if she even knows how to get the bonnet open. “That’s Mapi, not me. I have no idea what to do.”

They try to call someone, but there is no service and no pavement to walk down the road to see if elsewhere has a few more bars.

Frankly, it’s so unlucky that this has happened that Laia and Leila both have to hold in their laughter, not wanting the other to think they don’t understand how bad the situation actually is. Because, being stuck in a foreign country with no service and no knowledge about the inner-workings of a car is quite comical. It would be a great scene of a movie.

It’s Ona, when she returns to the land of the living, who comes up with a solution.

The defender gets out of the car, joining her friends as they sit on the grass verge adjacent to the road. “We’ve just got to wait here and look like three damsels in distress until someone drives past and helps us.” Though Leila knows she could probably think of something better if she really put her mind to it, she agrees to Ona’s plan, too lazy to do anything other than wallow in her misery. Now she’s going to have to take her car to the mechanic, and she hates doing things like that here because she has to drag Hempo with her to translate strong Mancunian accents into normal, more understandable English.

…

“Yeah, I’m coming. The motorway’s just chock-a-block and so I’ve taken a back route,” you tell your impatient sister, who is annoyed that you are late to her daughter’s birthday party. “Don’t be angry with me, be angry with the M6.” She chides you for your tardiness anyway, and you internally curse her for moving to Blackpool. It’s not like she’s a ballroom dancing fan or anything.

The countryside looks miserable when it’s just your car zipping down the empty roads, and it doesn’t help that the grey sky above makes you think it’s going to rain. While you have lived in Manchester your whole life and strive to not get bummed out by the weather, it makes you a little annoyed that the country can’t get its act together. You wish you had the power to teleport to Spain or something.

You pity anyone who is stuck outside as it begins to drizzle.

…

“Can we get in the car now?” Ona whines, completely going back on her plan after feeling the droplets of rain hit the top of her head. “I don’t want to get wet.”

“Please, Leila,” Laia adds. She hopes to sway her friend's adamance to stay where they can be seen, in case a helicopter flies over and lands in a nearby field to offer their aid (which seems more likely than someone driving past at this point).

“No, it’s only a bit of rain,” she tells her friends. A low rumble of thunder echoes in the fields. Ona and Laia raise their eyebrows. “Fine. You two be pathetic. I’ll stay here, doing the saving.”

“Our hero,” Laia replies sarcastically, chasing after Ona as she sprints to the car. “Have fun getting wet!”

It begins to chuck it down.

When a black Ford pulls up, a bit further up the road, coming from the direction they were heading in, and you get out, Leila finds that getting soaked has become worth it.

“Are you alright?” you shout to her, crossing the road and walking along the grass verge to get a better look at what is happening.

“My car is not working!” Leila shouts back.

You frown, approaching the brunette with concern. She has had to sit in the rain so that someone notices her. You’re a sympathetic person.

“Hi,” Leila says shyly as you help her up, wiping the water from her eyes so that she can see you properly.

“Hi.” You give her a once-over (solely for the purpose of checking she’s okay), and then turn to her car. “What’s wrong with it?” She squints at the sound of your strong accent, and you flush red, embarrassed. “What is wrong with your car?” you repeat with more clarity.

“I don’t know.”

“Was there a red light on the dash?” Leila’s vindication comes out in a muttered Spanish swear, before she nods and follows you down the verge to the road. “Can you pop the bonnet? I’ll give it a look.”

And, while you are doing that, Leila is giving you a look. Along with Ona and Laia.

“Es guapa,” an enviably dry Ona comments to her friends as Leila settles in the driver’s seat. You have instructed her to stay put for a moment while you puzzle at the state of her engine, wanting to know what is wrong before you explain it to the pretty woman you have found on the side of the road.

“Y lesbiana,” Laia points out as you tie your sopping hair up into a bun. Your t-shirt is so soaked that it is no longer of any use, so you pull it up over your head, getting to work in just your bra after wringing out enough water to fill a swimming pool. On your wrist is a bracelet from a Pride event you were dragged to by your friend the other day. You are secretly hoping Leila notices it. “Lei, dile tu nombre. Coquetea con ella.”

“Sí, pregúntale cuál es el problema.”

Leila scoffs, unimpressed with herself at how easily they have picked up on her attraction to you.

“Va. Es de Manchester, tambi��n.”

“Guapa, local, y lesbiana. Es perfecta.”

“No sé…” Leila starts, undecided as to whether she should let them convince her she has a chance or not.

Just when Laia and Ona are about to list more of your enticing physical qualities, you appear by the door, knocking on the window to tell her to open it.

“Good to see you’ve dried off a bit,” you joke, feeling as though you are so drenched that you will never be dry again. Leila blushes, but you are unsure whether it's because your joke is terrible or because her friends in the backseat have squashed together in the middle so that they can see what’s happening. You clear your throat. “So it’s a coolant leak. Took me a minute to realise half the water on the ground was actually your coolant and not the rain, but I figured it out eventually! The radiator’s hose clamps were damaged and, obviously, they’ve failed…”

But Leila isn’t listening to you telling her what is wrong with her car, because her friends are whispering in Spanish about how good you look topless. And she is inclined to agree with them.

It is only when you stop talking and the white noise of your ramble is no longer present that she realises what has happened, and she snaps out of staring at you. “Perdón, please could you repeat that?” It’s a phrase she has become very accustomed to, after all.

You laugh, and Leila likes the sound of it very much. “There was a leak, but I can fix it for you. If you’d like?”

“Yes!” Ona answers for her, making Leila practically jump out of her skin.

At Leila’s apparent hesitance, you remember you never introduced yourself to the three women in need of a car mechanic. It’s handy that that is exactly what you do for a living. “Fuck, sorry. I’m Y/n.” You hold out your hand for her to shake, and ignore the tingles where your skin meets hers. “I’ll need, like, an hour to do it, but I can. I’m a mechanic.”

“Es tan perfecta,” Laia giggles, poking Leila to remind her to tell you her name too.

“My name is Leila. I am not a mechanic, but can you… teach me?”

It’s an excuse to watch you fix her car.

You both know it.

“Yeah, sure. I have an umbrella in my car, and I’ll need to get my toolkit and stuff. I’ll bring it over, and then you won’t get wet.”

“I already am.”

You blush, though you know it’s probably not what she meant. All three of them speak with strong Spanish accents, reminding you of your grandmother.

…

It takes slightly longer than expected to sort out the clamps, but you don’t mind having an excuse to not go to a little kid’s birthday party. You love your niece, but the thought of thirty hyper five-year-olds running around and begging you to play with them makes you gulp. You’d rather arrive when the guests have left and your niece has crashed from her inevitable sugar-high.

Leila stands beside you as you work, holding the umbrella above both of your heads. You are too focused on your task to see her check you out every so often, but she has left the car door open so you can hear the eager encouragement from her friends. Ona even takes a picture because the scene is so hilarious.

“What does this do?” Leila quizzes as you finish up, pointing at the engine and enjoying the way you answer so effortlessly. “And this? And that?”

You wipe the sweat (and rain) from your brow, sighing as you step back to observe your work. For an impromptu fix-up on the side of the road, it’s not bad. She may need to bring her car into the garage to get it properly sorted once she gets to her destination.

“Could I borrow your phone?” you ask after catching her staring. It gives you a surge of confidence.

Confused, Leila nods, handing it over to you.

“Mi madre es de España.” All three Spanish women feel their mouths open in shock. And horror. And the realisation that you definitely heard everything they have been saying about you.

Leila feels like jogging to the nearest motorway and diving in front of a truck.

“I’ll give you my number and you can update me on the car? You’ll need to get someone to look over it more thoroughly.”

“Sí,” Leila breathes, hoping that you are signing yourself up for that job.

“I’m based in Manchester, so if that’s convenient, you could always bring it into my garage.”

“We live in Manchester too,” Laia helpfully shouts from inside the car. “And she will do that!”

“And… I could also text you a restaurant where you can ask me even more questions about car engines over dinner?” You grin at her, and she grins back.

“Sí, por favor.”

“It was nice to meet you, Leila,” you say slowly, pleased with yourself but dignified to hold in your cheering until your return to your own car.

“Igualmente,” Leila replies, handing you your t-shirt that you had previously discarded onto the floor. She’s still embarrassed that you understood what her friends said about you, but at least that means she now has a date.

Or two.

Or three.

It depends on how many more problems she can find with her car.

[pompadourpink]

It's a new beginning!

Hello children,

September is coming, school too for some of you - often a great moment for a bit of decluttering and a few new good resolutions. Here am I, offering myself as one of them!

As you hopefully know, I started this blog in 2016 and have been a private tutor since the beginning of the pandemic. I have room at the moment for several new students, so here is what I offer:

Classes, obviously - the typical schedule is one hour a week, sometimes one and a half, or one every two weeks, or two every two weeks; typically same day same time (I'm always happy to make adjustments if you work shifts)

Homework, if you can make the time for it. I typically prefer it to be finished by the middle of the week so that I have time to take a look and correct it, giving you the opportunity to give it a second try before class!

Depending on your preferences, either just a few activities so we can take our time, especially if you are a beginner, or something a bit more dynamic consisting in five to ten minute long activities to keep you motivated and alert (which seems to be a crowd's favourite as most of my students are neurodivergent).

Talking activities are typically answering series of questions I share from my Notion, talking about your week, summarising a book or a movie, making me guess a word or a person, or a concept I call "alien talk" where you explain something (like a vaccine or insurance) from scratch to a little red man.

Writing activities are often fictional (I have students create a little character on a website and we write an update about their life regularly), they can also be an overview of your month, a letter to quit your horrible job or convince Snoop Dog to marry you because you are a gold digger.

Transcribing activities, especially at the beginning, are either me reading very easy sentences so you can write them down and memorise the way things sound, then it's episodes from young children's shows, extracts from very famous movies, then we hit harder and turn to gameshows or podcasts.

Translating activities, from one language to another, are a written translation of the first page of a novel (I did the Secret History recently), or a newspapers article (we are working on this one at the moment); or an oral translation of songs lyrics, fairytales, children's books, muted captioned playthroughs of your favourite games on Youtube, etc.

Finally, a few games: silly quizzes, crosswords, Wordle and even Quordle, hangman, and sometimes we even sing if you're comfortable with that.

Here is the link of my website where you will find reviews and a list of what to send me to get the process started. A few things to know:

I try to make the activities fit your preferences: get me a list of what you like and that is what we will work on. If your first language is not English, I am happy to include it, I'm always eager to learn (I've been reviewing my Spanish this way!)

I work without cameras. I don't need to see your face, I just need a voice and a good Internet connection. All students are welcome, no matter if you have an accent, a stutter, or disabilities. Do not be afraid of being judged, there is none of that here.

I ask for your contact information to be able to do my billing, no one else sees it and no one will know if you give me the address of a building in your area if you feel more comfortable this way. If you prefer to have a lesson first and decide that you want to continue before sending me your info, that's also an option.

I have a student and a regular rate, depending on what you can afford, and we can make different arrangements if your country's rate makes it too difficult, I've done it before.

Please comment if you have a question!

Much love,

Rose

[reivrze]

hihi <3 what abt the boys crushing on someone (hc for all of them!!)

a/n : this was honestly really fun to write and think about. i think all the boys have this boy-ish vibes to them and i just know they'd all be whipped around someone they like

pairing: enhypen x gender neutral!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none really

ー heeseung would act as if he's already dating his crush. he'd get possessive whenever other people hit on them, he'd address himself as "__'s boyfriend" whenever people asked who he was to them. he'd talk about them like he's been married to them forever. he's the type to send them messages like "when are we getting married?" or "so how many kids should be have in the future?"

rest of the members under the cut !

ー jay would be pretty quiet around his crush, he's more the type to stare at his crush whenever they're talking or laughing. god he loves your laugh, he could listen to it until he dies. i can see him being quite a romantic when it comes to confessing, he might want to confess to you over dinner or during a sunset, something real romantic yk. i just know he'd have a whole speech prepared that took him weeks to write because he didn't know how to put into words his crush on you.

ー jake would be a mix of both shy and flirty. he might want to try an impress who he has a crush on, or show that he's interested but get shy right after. i can see him as the type to talk about his crush to layla, just full on ranting about his feelings to her. he's definitely the type to send you cheesy pick up lines. you can't tell me he also wouldn't be super touchy around his crush, always fixing their hair, or trying to hold their hands. the type to tell you that you have an eyelash on your cheek just to be able to "brush it off" only for that to be an excuse to touch your soft skin.

ー sunghoon likes to act all cold and cool around his crush. he'd want to have this cool boy image, but as you get to know him, you'll realize he's a true softie and he's whipped. his crush has him wrapped around their finger and sunghoon is definitely aware of that. ask him at 3 am to come and get ice cream together and this boy will be at your doorstep in less than 5 minutes.

ー sunoo would get all shy around his crush, especially if his crush is more of the straightforward type. simple compliments like "i like your sweater" would make him all blushy and smiley. he'd pay attention to every thing his crush would say, and remember the smallest of details. you said you liked his sweater? the next week, he got you the same one in a different color.

ー jungwon would be the softest, cutest human being around his crush, not even kidding. he'd want to tell everyone who he's close to about you. he definitely talks about each detail about you to his grandma and he has such a boy-ish smile while doing so. he'd buy you little gifts like necklaces or matching bracelets with handwritten little letters, one of those letters being his confession.

ー niki would be similar to sunghoon in the way that he would want to have this bad boy image around his crush. but at some point that facade will slip and his childish, playful self will show. after that his goal is to make you laugh and have fun with him. he finds so much joy in hanging around someone who he feels completely comfortable to be himself around. he'd probably ask you out by writing one of those notes where its like : "i like you, do you like me? yes 🔳 no 🔳".

© miyu 2023 - do not copy, translate, repost or plagiarise my work anywhere !

[mah-t-wordblog]

Hello! You can do a Lee! Giyuu, Ler!Sabito?

They are practically like brothers, and I feel like Giyuu told him about his problems or what happened to him before arriving with Urokodaki (the death of his sister).

The idea is this, one day they would have fought because Giyuu was sometimes somewhat cowardly in Sabito's words and it ended in an argument to the point that Sabito blamed Giyuu for what happened to his sister (it wasn't purpose, anger made him say that without meaning to say it) and there is no talking from there, days pass and Sabito finds Giyuu crying in a room while telling himself that it was his fault for everything that happened to him, Sabito consoles him and apologizes Although, Giyuu is not very easy to smile when he was crying, although Sabito tries to cheer him up, the only thing that works is tickling, he is gentle with Giyuu in those moments since he was mostly ruthless when he tickled him.

(I feel like his palms are a bit sensitive, his knees are also quite sensitive but his feet are one of Giyuu's most sensitive places and Sabito always tickled him there)

Hey! There it is, I don’t know if it is exactly what u wanted, but i hope u like it

I’m so sorry

Lee: Giyu Tomioka

Ler: Sabito

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Ships: NONE (just if u want)

Warnings: This is a tickle fic, if you don’t like it, just scroll down

This fanfic is originally in Portuguese, my English is translated using an automatic translator, if there are any big errors you can tell me so I can fix them

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

“Get up again, you need to brandish your sword” Sabito asked, in fact he ordered

Giyu was tired and sitting on the floor, he was hurt, he was just a kid

“I’m sorry, I’m tired”

“Stop being a coward”

Giyu got up again, Sabito's words normally encouraged him but today he was really tired and needed to rest

Sabito started to attack him, but Giyu defended him, he attacked again and hit Giyu, leaving a bruise on his arm.

"Hey!"

“You didn’t defend yourself”

Giyu got angry

“That’s enough, I need to rest”

"Where are you going?"

"I'm tired! You do not understand?" Giyu started to get angry, he walked away from Sabito

“Fight anyway!”

"No!"

"You are a coward!"

Giyu stopped and looked back “what are you talking about?!”

“You don’t fight me because you are a coward”

“You only fight me because you are stronger than me and you always want to win.”

“I'm just trying to help you and you don't recognize it, how difficult it is to deal with you! You only get in the way of Giyu!”

Giyu frowned and looked at him, the two were a few meters away

“Why are you saying that, Sabito?”

"Because it is true! If you hadn’t gotten in the way, your sister wouldn’t be dead, right?!”

Silence

Giyu looked at Sabito with an expression as if he had been ripped out of his soul.

He ran into the middle of the forest they were in.

‘Shit!’ Sabito thought “Giyu, please forgive me!” He shouted, but the other didn't care, he was already too far away

‘What did I do?’ He ran through the forest ‘where did he go? To where?'

Sabito ran into Mr. Urokodaki's house

“Giyu! Giyu!” He called

A sound of crying, he entered the room where he and Giyu slept and saw him crying, crouching down

“Giyu…” Sabito approached

"What do you want?"

"Please, forgive me"

Giyu looked at Sabito but sighed

“It wasn't my intention, you know it wasn't” Sabito held Giyu's hands

“It’s my fault…”

“No, it’s not, nothing is your fault” the boy continued looking fixedly at his friend “you’re not wrong, believe me”

Giyu relaxed a little “alright”

"Please forgive me"

“I forgive you, Sabito”

“I should have let you rest, please forgive me.”

“Hey, I told you that I forgive you”

Sabito smiled at the other, but Giyu couldn't smile back.

“Hey… do you want to get better?” The redhead asked

“Please” he asked softly

Sabito smiled “alright~”

He grabbed one of Giyu's hands and started running his fingers over his palm, which caused a bit of laughter.

"Hehehe"

“I’ll make you better!” Sabito squeezed Giyu's body, poking his belly and squeezing his sides.

“Ahahahaha! Sahahabihitoho”

“You asked for it~”

Sabito moved to the other's armpits

“STOHOHOHOP”

“So are you feeling better?”

“YEHEHEHEHES”

He stopped

“I’m sorry” Sabito asked once again

“I already apologized, stop blaming yourself, it sounds like me” Giyu smiled, he stood up and called the other “hey, shall we continue? I’ve rested enough, we won’t become hashiras if we don’t train, right?”

Sabito laughed “of course”

The two of them laughed and ran out of the house and into the forest.

Urokodaki saw the two and smiled

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Thanksssss 💛💛

[moodymisty]

Hiya! Could I request some Magnus / GN! Reader shenanigans? Like the reader is trying to learn a spell (to impress Magnus), does it by "The books are just guidelines anyways", and it works. Then they go to show Magnus and confusion hell breaks loose Blease and thankyou <3<3<3

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: Magnus time! I was actually working on something just like this, so this gave me the motivation to really spruce it up and finish it. But I really apologize because when I reread your request I realized I might've gone a bit less silly than you might've wanted. I hope you still enjoy.

Relationship: Magnus the Red/Gn!Reader

Warnings: None apart from this being my first time writing Magnus so please forgive me figuring him out I'm sorry if he feels off

Word Count: 1220

Sorcery is by it's very nature, finicky.

It has no solid answer, no yes or no. It's not as if it's a machine you can turn on or off, or a star you can see is alive or dead. It's an ebb and flow- something you feel.

But how do you feel something you've never felt before?

These tomes are largely nonsensical to you; The scribblings of madmen, words with no translation and sentences backwards.

You'd once again today attempted to make sense of it all, to tempt your better judgement that kept saying it maybe wasn't your most intelligent idea, but nothing has happened yet. So now you sit in bed, flicking through pages of tomes scattered across the blankets; Attempting to perhaps make enough sense of it and not bring anymore embarrassment to yourself than you already have.

In your fussiness you've already given yourself two different paper cuts, licking your wounds both physical and mental. You should probably be sleeping, the stars are out bright, and the wind gently raps against the windows as you study.

Magnus' tower is so ethereal, you look towards the window for a moment and see nothing but the midnight sky illuminating everything underneath it.

After thinking, you look back towards the oversized tome in your lap, lying on your thighs over top of a blanket. You'd picked many of the books not necessarily at random, but attempting to find the most basic of starting places from a collection that puts most others to shame. Magnus has many shelves up here, filled with his personal collection of tomes and scrolls. You sort've wish he was here to help guide you, but at the same time, you wish to surprise him to some degree.

You try just one more time, attempting to light a small ember in your palm. You follow every word exactly as the instructions- if you could call them that, and mange to hold it for only a few moments before it flickers away as if blown out by breath.

"Ugh!"

You drop your head, it coming quite close to hitting the pages of the tome.

"What is this?"

Your head suddenly whips upright, seeing Magnus himself standing in the doorway across the room. You don't know how you hadn't heard his footsteps, though you suppose you were far too distracted for your ears to prick to any other sound than what was right next to you.

Entering the room and closing the massive door behind him, Magnus takes in the scenery he's missed while aboard Photep, traveling the stars. After his quick glances he focuses on you cross legged in his bed, surrounded by opened and unopened books.

"Magnus!" He slowly walks closer to the beside, one finger brushes a tome he's clearly familiar with and opening it to a particular page; Glossing over it before he lets it gently fall back shut.

"Now, what are you concocting in that little mind of yours that requires so many spell tomes?"

Magnus watches amused as you close the book in your lap, legs cross underneath it and look at your slightly burned palm.

"I was trying to call fire. But it seems it's a bit harder than I thought." His smile fades a bit softer, watching your expression. The fabric of his robes is weaved with gold string that shines in the soft candle light.

"You seem to have had it, from what I saw."

You can feel his long red hair brush against your arm as he sits beside you, his massive height and weight difference forcing the appropriately massive bed to dip heavily to his side. It almost makes you roll, but you quickly adjust to prevent that. Now in your atmosphere it's a bit easier to look him in the eye, but you still have to crane your next a decent bit.

"I was following the tomes exactly like they said, and the best I can do is a little baby kindling. I'd have trouble even setting a letter alight."

You look up towards him, hands playing with the edges and filigree of the old, worn tome in your lap. Magnus speaks up, his tone curious and a bit surprised.

"Exactly?"

His eye glances down to the front cover of the tome in your hand, and recognizes that one instantly. With one hand, he gently reaches underneath the covers and gently clamps the tome shut, the top of his hand laying against your thighs before he pulls the tome towards his chest.

"Then you are taking it all far too literally." Perhaps the book shouldn't be written so literally then, you rebelliously think. He lays the tome aside, and uses the same hand to gently cup your jaw between his fingers and look up at him.

"it's far more of a feeling that anything, my love. If you keep just following the tomes, you might end up burning something down. Or as you've noticed, burning nothing at all." He lets out a laugh, feeling your cheeks move under his finger tips.

"I never thought you to be so studious in following directions. Perhaps you'd prefer Primarch Guilliman to myself?" You let out a harsh puff of air through your closed lips, making an insulting noise. Your hand grips his wrist and tries to pull it away, but to no avail, and instead you just grip the massive muscles of his arm and scowl.

"Funny."

He smiles wider. How you speak to him so casually now, compared to months ago. Perhaps his teasing makes it easier for you to forget who he is. He doesn't mind it.

A testament to your determination, you'd been able to cast something despite a lack of knowledge; But you could do well in having someone set you on the right path. Afterall, Magnus knows simply treating something with such an ebb and flow as sorcery as rules you can memorize will never bear any fruit.

Magnus can guide you, and truthfully, he would love for nothing more than to.

His sons don't need to be taught. They learn from his actions, and most are more than capable of progressing on their own and honing their own skills. To be able to teach his beloved something that is such a core part of himself, to guide your hand and your mind to touch something greater- he finds himself almost, dare he say excited.

He's rough on his sons, he knows they can take it. That they're built for sorceries and touching the warp. But with you he'll have to be gentle. The thought of it, to sit with you and show you wondrous things that your home planet kept from your eyes, he would start right now if not for one thing.

Magnus lets go of your jaw. He leans down and gently brushes a kiss against your temple, his fire red hair brushing against your skin again.

"Now, as much as I don't wish to part you from your reading, I have returned from Terra at my absolute wits end and desiring some rest." He smiles and vaguely gestures to the mess you've made of his bed during his absence. He can see other little messes throughout his chambers, as well.

"So my love, perhaps you could move your research, off the bed?"

[mask131]

The myth of Apollo (6)

On to complete this little series I never had time to finish! As with my "The myth of Dionysos" series, I will end my loose translations with the section dedicated to Apollo in Félix Guirand's "Mythologie générale" (General mythology). As I said before, it was from the late 30s originally, so it is a bit old and some info might be outdated, but it was the dominant compendium for most of the 20th century, so it completes quite well the previous and more modern articles I shared before.

I/ Origins, traits and attributes

The etymology of the name « Apollon » is uncertain. None of those that were submitted are satisfying, be it its link to the old Greek verb “apello”, meaning “to push away, to repel”, or a potential tie to an ancient form of “apollumi/apollymi”, “to destroy” (Apollo “the destroyer” would be how he appears in The Iliad). Some even go as far as to try to link it to the English “apple” to make Apollo a primitive god of the apple-tree…

We are just as unsure when it comes to the god’s origins. Some think he comes from Asia: either he is a Hittite god, a double of the Arabian deity Hobal ; either he is a god from Lycia. Other meanwhile use Apollo’s close relationship to the Hyperborean to show him as a Nordic god, brought by the Greeks from Northern Europe during their migration. It is hard to choose between those opposite theories because each of them brings interesting and plausible ideas, while not actually presenting solid proof.

It must be said that the legend of Apollo is so diverging that it sometimes confines the myth into pure contradiction. For example, this deity which was the Greek god by excellence and the essence of Ancient Greece, somehow sides with the Trojan (aka, Asians) in The Iliad. And if we accept that Apollo comes from Asia, then why are his retreats identified as the Tempi Valley and Hyperborea, implied to be his native land? As for his attributes, they are so multiple and complex it is often hard to link them together.

Apollo is first and foremost a god of light, and a solar god – without actually personifying the celestial body itself, as the sun was identified with the specific god that is Helios. But as a light go he was called “Phoïbos”, “The Shining One/Bright One”, Xanthos “The Blond”, “Chrysocomès”, “Of gold hair”. He was said to enjoy most of all “high places”, the highest mountaintops and the promontories overseen the waters. It makes sense that this solar god would be the son of Leto, known by the Romans as Latone ; a deity who was very likely a night-goddess, and the double of the Asian Lada. As a solar god, Apollo is the one who helps fruits grow out of the earth, and this is why the first harvest was dedicated to him in Delos and Delphi. He was also a harvest-protector by destroying the rats that infested the fields (Apollo Smintheus) and repelling locusts (Apollo Parnopion). However, since the sun is also a murderous power whose rays were said to hit like shots, Apollo was seen as an archer god who threw far, far away his arrows (Hécatébolos) that caused sudden death. But, since the sun is also a benevolent power causing purification, Apollo was also the healer god that pushed away evil (Alexicacos). In this latter function, he seems to have replaced a more primitive Greek god known as Paeon (The Healer) and whose name is linked to the character of Paeéon that Homer names “the physicists of the gods”.

Apollo was also a god of divination and prophecy. Outside of the numerous oracles he owned in Asia Minor, Thymbra, Claros, Gryneium and Didymos, Apollo had sanctuaries all throughout Greece where people went to seek his council, as the god spoke there through his intermediaries, the Sibyl priestesses. Some famous examples of these sanctuaries were those of Tegyra and Thebes – in the Theban sanctuary, the Sibyl was none other than the daughter of Tiresias, Manto. Still in Thebes, by Pausanias’ time, one could find the stone on which Apollo’s priestesses stood to give his oracles, called “Manto’s seat”. This stone was later sent to Asia Minor, to create the Claros oracle. But of all the sanctuaries of Apollo, the most famous was of course Delphi, located in a deep grotto from which came out “prophetic vapors”. The priestess, called a Pythia, sat on a tripod at the entrance of the cave. Soon, under the influence of the god, she entered into a state of trance and, possessed by a “prophetic delirium”, she said fragmented and obscure sentences, interpreted in turn by the male priests of Apollo and by the members of the sacred council of Delphi. To give the power of divination to a solar god can be surprising, because in Ancient Greece prophecies usually were reserved to chthonian deities. And yet, Apollo ended up eclipsing all of those earthly oracles – as such, we have to consider that Apollo must have had his oracular powers before he entered Greece. This makes him very similar to the Assyro-Babylonian god Shamash, a sun god who has the power of divination ; and it would confirm the Asian origin of Apollo.

But outside of these facets of the solar god, Apollo has many, many other domains. Apollo was a shepherd/pastor god (Nomios) in charge of protecting herds and flocks. His epithet “Lycian”, if it isn’t simply an indication that he comes from Lycia, had been linked to some to the root “lux” of the Latin word “lux”, light – confirming the solar nature of the god. However, “Lycian”, in Greek “luxeioz”, is also linked to the word “luxoz”, “wolf”. Apollo might have been originally a wolf-god, or maybe simply a wolf-killer as his nickname “Lucoctonos” confirms. This all indicates a rural deity, which is to link to the way Dorians celebrated Apollo as a pastoral god called “Apollon Carneios” (Ram-Apollo). On top of this, Apollo was also the god of singing and of the lyre – this is how Homer painted him to us, as all the gods listening the beautiful melodies Apollo creates on his cithara. Apollo, finally, is a builder god and a colonizing god, who is said to “enjoy the building of cities, of which he always establishes the foundations”.

These many attributes lead one to believe that Apollo is actually the conflicting of several different personalities, and that he started out as an Asian solar god which, when brought over to Greece, was conflicted with a rural norther Greek god, the Apollo Nomios/Ram-Apollo of the Dorians.

II/ Depictions

Despite his multiplicity, Apollo always kept the same appearance. He was depicted as a young man of ideal beauty, with a strong body, a broad chest for narrow hips. His face was beardless and delicate, his high forehead crowned with thick and long hair, sometimes floating onto his back, sometimes tied into a knot with only a few curls falling on his shoulders. He was usually naked, or wore at most a chlamys. When depicted as a musician-god, he usually wears a long tunic with large folds. His attributes are the bow and the quiver, the shepherd’s crook and cithara. His dedicated animals were the swan, the vulture, the raven, the falcon, the cicada, the wolf and the snake. His favorite plants ere the laurel, the palm-tree, the olive-tree, and the tamaris.

III/ Birth of Apollo

According to the most ancient traditions, Apollo’s mother, Leto daughter of Coeos and Phoebe, was a wife of Zeus whose relationship with him was anterior to his marriage with Hera. It is as a former wife of Zeus that she appears in The Iliad, where she and her son protect the Trojans (probably due to their Asiatic origins). Hesiod also depicts her as such, adding that she wears a dark-veil, which seems a fitting outfit for a night goddess. It was only later that Leto became a mistress of Zeus faced with Hera’s jealousy – and the conflict between these two goddesses forms the main part of Leto’s legend.

When Leto, pregnant with Zeus, sensed she would soon start her labor, she went looking for a place perfect to deliver her babies. However, furious and jealous, Hera hunted her down, and forced her to cross Attica, Euboea, Thrace and the islands of the Aegean Sea. Leto kept asking each region, island and land if they wanted to welcome her, but all, fearing Hera’s wrath, refused. Hopefully Leto encountered the floating island of Ortygia, which was the final form of Leto’s sister, Asteria, which had turned into this landmass to avoid the lust of Zeus. Leto promised to Ortygia that, on its rocky and sterile ground, Apollo would build a splendid temple, and this gift had the island agree to welcome Leto. But Hera had made an oath that her rival would never give birth in a land touched by the rays of the sun ; to go around this restriction, Poseidon created a dome that he used to cover the island, and maintained by four pillars at the bottom of the sea. After the birth of Apollo, Ortygia’s name was changed into Delos, “The Shining One”.

When Hera realized she could not prevent the birth, she decided to slow it down as much as possible: while all the goddesses had come to Leto’s side to help her, Hera maintained by her side Ilithyia, the goddess of childbirth, forbidding her to go to Leto. During nine days and nine nights Leto suffered the pain of labor without being able to deliver her babies. Finally, Iris, sent to Olympos, managed to bring back Ilithyia. Finally, Leto gave birth to Apollo as all the goddesses screamed with joy, and the female Immortals washed young Phoïbos with pure water and wrapped him around in a white veil, closed by a golden belt (according to the Homeric Hymn to Apollo). At the same time, Leto also gave birth to a daughter, Artemis. (Sometimes, due to the similarity of names, Apollo’s birthplace was not identified as the Delos island, but as the Ortygia sacred wood, near Ephesus). Apollo’s birth, unfortunately, did not end Leto’s torment. Out of fear of Hera she had to flee Delos and hide in Asia Minor, in the Termite Land, later known as Lycia. One day there, as she came near a pond, she tried to drink its water – wicked shepherds prevented her to do so and soiled the water. Leto, as a punishment, turned them into frogs.

IV/ Apollo’s childhood; the Python snake

Apollo was not nursed by his mother’s milk ; instead he was fed by Themis with ambrosia and nectar. As soon as he consumed those products, Apollo threw away the cloth that wrapped him and gained a manly strength, which he immediately used to kill the snake Python. Python was a female dragon that had been birth by the Earth (Gaia) to act as Typhon’s nurse. Hera, who wanted to destroy her rival at all costs, had sent Python to track down Leto when she was about to give birth to Apollo ; hopefully, Poseidon had hidden Leto’s resting place in the waters, meaning Python, unable to find its victim, had to return to its lair on the wooden slopes of Parnassus.

Four days after his birth, Apollo went out in the world, in search of a land where to build his sanctuary. Armed with arrows that Hephaestus had forged for him, he went down from Olympus, crossed Pieria, Euboea and Boeotia, before finally reaching the Crissa valley. The nymph who ruled over this valley, Telphusa, wanted to keep her sole power over the region and so she treacherously advised Apollo to go into the wild gorge of the Parnassus where Python dwelt. When Python saw the god, it attacked, but the young deity killed it with its arrows, in a very long, agonizing, painful death. Once the body stropped writhing and rolling around, Apollo pushed it away disdainfully with his feet, saying “Rot now where you are”. In memory of this battle, the place came to be known as “Pytho” (from the Greek “puthein/pythein”, “to rot”), later changed into the name “Delphi”. As for Telphusa, the god punished her treachery by smothering her under a rock.

In order to purify himself from the soiling that the murder of Python had caused, Apollo exiled himself in Thessaly, in the Tempi Valley. Once the time of expiation for his crime was done, he returned to Delphi crowned with sacred laurel, with an entire cohort of priests who sang triumphant hymns. These events were celebrated at Delphi by the festival of “Septeria”, or the feast of celebration, organized every nine years. A teenager chosen among nobility was playing Apollo. Helped by other young men, he set fire to a wooden cabin meant to symbolize the house of the dragon. At the end of the Septeria, the same young men had to go on a pilgrimage to the Tempe Valley, where they performed expiation rituals, before returning to Delphi bearing sacred laurel.

[sundered-souls]

Inge Sjasaris

B A S I C S

Name: Inge Sjasaris (pre-EW), Inge Grymkoelwyn (post-EW)

Nicknames: none

Age: In her sixties

Nameday: 5th Sun of the 2nd Umbral Moon

Race: Viera

Gender: Loaded question given that I've never bothered posting about her tribe, but long story short: she's fine with being called a woman. In our modern western ways, she'd be more akin to genderqueer. In her people's way, it's hard to translate so she never bothers. Honestly any pronoun is technically fine by her, it'll never be completely right anyway.

Orientation: Whatever, but more female leaning overall.

Profession: Mercenary, alchemist

P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C  T S

Hair: I've yet to find a satisfying mod for what I have in mind but curly and mid-long, black, badly cut 'cause she tends to do it herself whenever the length annoys her too much. Rarely tied though, she doesn't like the feeling (hence the terrible haircuts)

Eyes: Grey

Skin: Dark brown, with some freckles

Tattoos/scars: A tattoo left by Louisoix's spell between her shoulder blades. Many scars scattered on her body, most faded though and none too remarkable.

F A M I L Y

Parents: Both alive, never named them x)

Siblings: Two unnamed sisters and one brother, which she doesn't know is a brother because she left before he hit puberty. He's called Solrunn and is played by @inah-ffxiv (who also plays her wife)

Grandparents: I didn't flesh out the family tree so far so.... no idea

In-laws and Other: She's married to Yersinia Bordetella (which isn't her real name if you wonder after reading Inge's family name above) Also in a relationship with Y'shtola.

Pets: None

S K I L L S

Abilities: The notable ones would be magic enhancing/debuffing (and healing but if you don't get hit, it's even better), war surgery, alchemy (mostly potions), botany and bow hunting. She can hear the Elementals too

Hobbies: Reading smut and romance. That's about it, she loves her job as an adventurer and doesn't take much time off.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Steadfast and kind

Most Negative Trait: emotionally constipated and prone to reproach people their recklessness before doing the exact same fucking thing five minutes later (But it's different because she knows what she's doing™)

L I K E S

Colors: she loves bright colors in general but mostly wears neutral/earthly colors herself (as to not make a target of herself). Doesn't have a clear favorite

Smells: damp soil, forests, quite a lot alchemical agents, tea, campfires

Textures: Leather, smooth polished wood, soft wool

Drinks: Tea, tea and more tea

O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: Recreationally. Did you know the Twelve will approve of your union even if you're too high to remember the entire day? Should you get lucky enough to meet them, they'll even mention it /shudders

Drinks: Tea and water. Occasionally maybe some fruit juice. Never any alcohol, it makes her sick

Drugs: Nothing other than what I mentioned above

Mount Issuance: Inge's actually in the Twin Adder and got her chocobo through them. The bird doesn't have an actual name, she whistles to call it/give it orders and mostly uses it as a beast of burden rather than a mount. Her yol is in the care of the Mols. She didn't want to take it away from its natural environment, but she visits sometimes.

Been Arrested: Never. To say that she's always a law-abiding citizen might be pushing it though...

Tagged by: @lilbittymonster (ty!) Tagging @inah-ffxiv @adrayellinaeth @archaiclumina @hakai-zonapher @feathersage @wpip-raham @the-crimson-rose @sharlayanscion @ooc-miqojak (so you can pick which character you want to do it with) @punchelf @chadhunkler @clockworkdimensions @gatheredfates @corsair-kovacs @heavensw4rd

I went through my followers list and I have more characters so feel free to ignore if you're not interested and I'll tag more people when I do it with the rest of the cast!

[alessandriana]

I'm curious about the scar removal actually

So that one was prompted by an exchange I had on twitter. Tl,dr, the EXR translation made it sound like it was Jiang Cheng who was desperate to get rid of the scars: Although Wei WuXian had never been hit by a discipline whip before, Jiang Cheng had been. Even after desperately trying, he couldn’t make the disgracing imprint fade one bit. This was why Wei WuXian would never misremember scars like this. (CH 11)

But the "he" in that sentence is quite ambiguous! Is it referring to Jiang Cheng... or to Wei Wuxian?

When the official translation came out, it seemed to support the latter interpretation:

While Wei Wuxian had never experienced this particular lashing himself, Jiang Cheng had. Wei Wuxian had wracked his brain to help him lighten that humiliating mark, but all efforts had been fruitless. Wei Wuxian would never mistake the sight of such a scar.

Later in the book, we get the flashback to Jiang Cheng waking up in the Wen supervisory office:

Finally, Jiang Cheng propped himself up on his elbows. He looked down at the wound from the discipline whip on his chest and let out a bitter laugh.

When the discipline whip struck, there was no removing the mark of shame. Against his own conscience, Wei Wuxian said, "Don't look. We'll find a way to get rid of it." (CH 60, official trans- EXR doesn't differ significantly)

From these, it honestly seems like Wei Wuxian is much more invested in getting rid of those scars than Jiang Cheng!

-

...All this to say, I found myself really wanting the story where WWX insists on helping JC get rid of those scars (whether JC wants help or not) and there's lots of chest touching and WWX has to sit on top of JC for some reason, and it's very sexy and they end up banging about it: The End.

And now a snippet, for those of you who've made it this far (NSFW under the cut):

The weeks passed, and battles were fought, and some were won and some were lost-- and some were a mix of the two.

It was after one of these latter that Jiang Cheng found Wei Wuxian setting his brushes and talismans up in his bedroom again.

They'd been loaned the use of a manor house by a sympathizer. It had been partially razed by the Wen, but there were still several buildings in good condition. Jiang Cheng had taken one of the rooms to the west-- it didn't have a bed anymore, but he'd set up his camp bed and it had been more than acceptable. It did have a low table, and that was where Wei Wuxian had lined up his things.

Jiang Cheng blinked at Wei Wuxian, startled. He'd almost forgotten about the last time-- consigned it to his list of embarrassing moments involving Wei Wuxian, of which there were many, and moved on. He'd assumed Wei Wuxian had done the same, and had given up this idea of his of getting rid of Jiang Cheng's scars.

"Jiang Cheng!" Wei Wuxian called, as Jiang Cheng entered. "Good, you're back-- what took you so long? The battle's been over for hours."

"It's been over for hours for you, maybe," Jiang Cheng said. Wei Wuxian was the reason the fight today had been a mixed win instead of a pure loss. He'd come through in the end with a mountain of corpses he'd dug up from a nearby graveyard, and with their help the Sunshot campaign had been able to beat back the Wen attack, giving them some breathing room while they recuperated. "Some of us had to help with the cleanup."

Wei Wuxian lounged on the floor as Jiang Cheng crossed over to the screen in the corner and began to disrobe. His outer garments were covered in blood and grime-- thankfully none of it his or his disciples'. "You weren't injured out there, right?"

Jiang Cheng could hear Wei Wuxian flopping around. "What, me? Hah! Those Wen couldn't get within fifty feet of me."

"Good," Jiang Cheng said, too tired to address the boasting. He'd personally seen a Wen soldier nearly take Wei Wuxian's head off just two days ago.

Jiang Cheng stripped down to his pants. There was a washbasin here, too, which had been filled fresh with water; maybe one of his disciples. He rinsed off with the cloth laid next to it. With each swipe of the cloth, some of his exhaustion disappeared, too.

When he came out he was in a better frame of mind to deal with the line of talismans, ink, and other supplies on the table. He said with heavy skepticism, "You really want to try this again?"

For a moment Jiang Cheng thought he saw a strange look in Wei Wuxian's eyes, a mix of trepidation and excitement; a strange energy. The look vanished so quickly Jiang Cheng wasn't even sure he'd seen it, replaced by something more mischievous. He grinned up at Jiang Cheng and said, "Yeah! I'm pretty sure I've got the right idea this time."

Jiang Cheng sighed. "If you say so," he grumbled, heading towards the bed and flopping down on his back. "But if you're just doing this to fuck with me--"

Wei Wuxian cackled, gathering up his supplies. "Nope! Not fucking with you," he said, dragging the table over to Jiang Cheng's side so it would be in easy reach. Jiang Cheng expected he would try leaning over this time, to avoid the previous problem.

Wei Wuxian finished setting up his stuff, and then-- swung his legs over Jiang Cheng's waist again.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Jiang Cheng squawked, bucking upwards. But Wei Wuxian had come prepared for this gambit, and he hooked his ankles under the edge of the bed and hung on as Jiang Cheng tried to escape. Finally Jiang Cheng had to admit defeat. He lay back on the bed with Wei Wuxian above him, heart pounding more than it really should have been.

Wei Wuxian said innocently, "I told you, didn't I? This is a much better position for writing the spells out."

"Surely there's some better way you can come up with--"

Wei Wuxian shrugged. "Simple's always best." Grinning a little to himself, he leaned forward and began to write.

The brush tickled cool across his skin. Wei Wuxian braced himself with a hand on Jiang Cheng's pec to keep himself steady. He kept shifting and squirming on top of Jiang Cheng as he wrote, tiny little motions that echoed throughout Jiang Cheng's entire body. The result was entirely predictable. Jiang Cheng felt his cock begin to thicken and swell.

Finally he said, strangled, "Enough."

Wei Wuxian's eyes were fixed on Jiang Cheng's stomach as he wrote. "But I'm not done yet." Then he pulled back his brush to examine his work, hummed, and said, "Okay, I need more room."

Then he shifted backwards until he was sitting directly on top of Jiang Cheng's dick.

Jiang Cheng's hands flew up to Wei Wuxian's hips. "What the fuck!" His heart was hammering in his chest. He was going to throw up. He was so turned on he could hardly breathe.

Wei Wuxian didn't look up. "There," he said, and put the finishing touch on the spell, and then suddenly there was power flowing through the spellwork and also somehow it was coming from Jiang Cheng's dick, or at least that's what it felt like, and then--

--then the ink burst into flames.

This killed both the pending discussion and Jiang Cheng's boner as they endeavored to put it out.

Afterwards, they didn't talk about it.

[latibvles]

SAD, BEAUTIFUL, TRAGIC.

beautiful, tragic // to be in it with you.

i’ll find a million ways to say it before i say that i’m in—

masterlist | gallery | taglist

TAGLIST: @liebgotts-lovergirl , @softguarnere , @brassknucklespeirs ,@monalisastwin , @mads-weasley , @eugene-emt-roe

SUMMARY: Reaching the Eagles’ Nest makes the day special in more ways than one.

WARNINGS: None!

Picturesque mountains, sun warming her skin, her eyes crinkle at the corners on a squint as she peers at it for a moment. She didn’t think she’d have much time for sightseeing in a war, but here she is — a working draft of a letter balanced precariously on her thigh as she writes out a thank you for the well wishes from her mother, men and women alike all idling on this road etched into the mountainside. Beside her, Jane is also leaned up against the jeep, gray eyes shut to soak in the rays warming them like stones on a riverbed.

“Your French still any good?” she asks, out of the blue cracking one eye open. That was one thing Daisy began to notice about Jane. When she was feeling chatty, she could never anticipate what the girl was going to say or ask. Daisy raises an eyebrow, looking at her sidelong and gives her a shrug.

“It’s alright, I guess. Why d’you ask?”

“Cause I can’t remember a lick of shit since Belgium but I wanna tell the French to haul ass and get rid of the roadblock.” At that, Daisy snorts at the mild irritation edging in Jane’s voice as she says it, folding up her paper and putting it in her pocket.

“What, don’t wanna beat the French to the nest?”

“I don’t give a damn who wins, I just want to get up there already.” Distantly, a sound of an explosion echoes down the road they’re all sat upon, and Daisy snorts. Last Daisy checked, they were getting quite…  creative with how they intended to blow the roadblock sky high. Namely, combining explosives like a high-risk middle school science fair. Grenades, dynamite, bazookas, all which translated in Daisy’s mind as some idiot having too much fun and losing a couple fingers if they weren’t careful enough.

She’s hoping that the joy found in blowing things up might’ve died down a little bit with the war apparently coming so close to an end — but part of her knows that’s just her own foolish optimism.

But it is, admittedly, nice to know she still has some of it left after all this.

“Someone’s antsy,” Daisy can’t help but snicker, and Jane rolls her eyes.

“Ever the astute observations from my fearless leader.” She watches Jane shake out a cigarette and fish through her pocket for the lighter, lights it, and brings it to her own lips before letting smoke escape. Then she offers it to Daisy.

“Yeah well, that’s what they hired me for.”

“Your wise remarks?” Jane asks as Daisy takes it from her, bringing it to her own lips. They share a look as an engine roars and a jeep whizzes by them further up the road.

“My astute observations,” Daisy concurs, “Also, I think you might’ve gotten your wish after all, Gray.”

The town was dead quiet before they came in. An eerily empty place save for the rumble of engines, emblazoned in the red banners that make her entirely angry now. The moment their feet hit the ground, anything that gleams is fair game — for combat nurse and soldier alike, it seems.

Which is to say: Daisy’s bag is heavy with things that weren’t even hers, nor were they things that she necessarily picked up herself. She didn’t expect Rita to have such sticky fingers, but when the argument was that they’d need nice silverware for the apartment they’ve yet to get, she couldn’t exactly argue with that sound logic. And when Easy Company gets fired up to head further up the mountain — she allows herself a moment of childishness, sticking out her tongue to her friend who would be staying behind in town for the moment with the rest of Fox.

Okay, so maybe she got her pick of a couple candleholders in town, and maybe she was just a little bit eager to see if the stone mountain retreat had anything nicer than that. Which it should, because the damn thing had a gold plated elevator.

She’s greeted with lush couches and carpets, champagne in buckets of water that likely was ice, at one point, and the sound of popping bottles as everybody in the place helps themselves to the stash. Daisy wanders, curious as the men chip pieces off that big stone fireplace. She’s on one of the many balconies the retreat holds when Liebgott finds her first. He smacks one of those fireplace chunks unceremoniously into her hand. Then, he offers her the glass-green champagne bottle he’s carrying with him.

“It’s a special day, after all, don’t say I didn’t get you nothin’,” he hums with a knowing glint in his eye. She takes the bottle by the neck, glances up at him with slightly wider eyes and parted lips.

“You remembered?”

“What kinda dumb question is that?” He asks with a bit of a scoff. “‘Course I did, kid, now hurry up before I take the damn bottle back.” Daisy rolls her eyes and takes a swig, champagne bubbles popping on her tongue and going down smooth. It tastes expensive. She grins as she licks the excess from her lips and gives him the bottle back, and then he takes a swig from it himself before ruffling her hair. “Atta girl. Make any wishes?”

“I’d need candles for that.” He grins again and gives her a shrug.

“Sure we could work somethin’ out. Not like ol’ Adolf’s gonna need them. Y’know this place has a goddamn kitchen? Fully stocked.” He says, a sharp bite to the words. Daisy snorts, partially in disbelief.

“What, you're gonna make me a cake or something? I don’t know if I trust you around a stove while you’re drinking.” Joe laughs, a full sound accompanied by another ruffle of her hair. “Tell you what, you find me candles and I’ll make all the wishes in the world.” That seems to satisfy him, the grin not faltering as he looks up and past her. There’s a clearing of the throat, and Daisy turns around.

Ron stands in the doorway, straight-faced and looking between them, before his gaze focuses on Liebgott.

“I need to speak to Lieutenant Clarke, Liebgott,” he informs in that non-negotiable tone of his. As if they had important business to attend to among the pretty scenery and loungers arranged to overlook the woods below. Joe isn’t an idiot, so he nods, resigned.

“Yes, sir,” he responds with a salute, he walks back inside, disappearing into the building and Daisy watches as that stern look on Ron’s face practically melts away.

He’d been the first one up, with Malarkey and Alton. So it didn’t take a genius to know that wherever he’d stored his gear in this place — it would likely clink and clatter until it made its way to Vest at the post office to get all boxed up. He reaches up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, shorter strands that had fallen from its braid. Something about the mundaneness of the gesture makes her smile.

“One hell of a day,” Ron observes, giving her a knowing look.

“That’s a way to put it, yeah,” Daisy points out with a curious smile. He tilts her chin up with his knuckle until she’s looking at him completely.

“Make any wishes?”

“Didn’t you hear while you were creeping in the shadows? You can’t make a wish without candles.” She points out, and Ron rolls his eyes as he leans down to kiss her, her chin between his thumb and pointer. His lips taste like whiskey, and she can’t help but think back to the last time he drank — all weepy in her lap and dramatic in the morning. The grin that makes it onto her lips is enough to break their kiss. He gives her a half-hearted narrow-eyed look.

“I don’t creep.”

“Lurking then, it’s not a bad thing,” Daisy amends, and she can tell Ron is biting back what has to be a smile as he fishes around in his pocket.

“Fine. Lurking. Doesn’t matter, I got you something.”

“If it’s forks, I’m afraid Rita might have you beat there. I think the drawers might burst if we get any more.” Ron shakes his head immediately with a soft chuckle.

“Not forks, but good to know.”

What he produces from his pocket is much more delicate than the silverware or the candle holders or the hand mirrors.

It’s a sapphire pendant on a thin, silver chain. Delicate and pretty in a way that makes Daisy’s lips part on a gasp. She’d passed quite a bit of jewelry, but none of it were things she’d ever wear so she left it behind for someone else to take. It was all too chunky, too demanding of attention, too weighty in her hands. This was the opposite. Silver curls around that deep blue sapphire, holding it in place, but it was still the centerpiece in spite of the embellishments.

“Happy birthday, Dais,” he says simply. Daisy reaches up, fingers grazing the cold metal in awe. She then looks up at him, a million questions and statements all posed on her tongue.

“Can you put it on me?” is what she decides on, and to that he nods, and she turns around.

Fingers graze the back of her neck as his fingers work to fasten it. She doesn’t care about how he got it, where it came from — just that he’d picked it up not to mail home, but to give to her. And she shouldn’t expect anything less from him, but everything he does still manages to fill her with something that can only be described as pure wonder.

Ron is wonderful. 

It’s not an epiphany of any sort, if anything, she feels like it’s the most obvious statement she could make. Of course he’s wonderful. Because Ron remembers things about people and makes a point to apply it. Ron knows everything about her, he listens to her. He could’ve given her any of the countless too-chunky rings and necklaces left abandoned in town or in this building. But he doesn’t. He finds the thing he knows she’ll wear and gives that to her instead.

So maybe, she’s just a little bit awestruck at how he could love a person like her in such a way. With such careful precision.

She turns around, throws her arms around his neck, and kisses him. His hands find her waist immediately, holding, squeezing as he returns her kiss with ease, remnants of champagne and whiskey mixing on their lips for a moment before they pull away — barely so, because her forehead presses against his and she makes a point to bump their noses.

“I love you, you know that, right?” Daisy breathes out without thinking. But she doesn’t pull away upon realizing what she’s said. She’d rather stare, and she’s glad she doesn’t look away, because he smiles. The rare one, where his eyes crinkle at the corners. Beautiful, breathtaking, rare but still Ron.

“Yeah? You love me?” Ron asks, his voice edging on a tease. It’s like watching years come off him in the span of seconds. He looks so boyish. She nods, cheeks flushing a bit at his tone, but his arms only wrap around her tighter.

“I do.”

He leans forward to kiss her again, briefer than before, but still firm against her.

“Then I love you too,” he mutters, then another kiss. “And when we go home,” kiss, “You know I’m marrying the hell outta you, right?”

Her heart skips a beat.

“Been thinking about that one for a while?” She asks, and Ron squeezes her hips, hazel eyes moving across her features as he examines her face.

“Figured to wait, that you’d want a ring that’s shiny and new and all yours.” And then he waits, leaving it open for her to contradict him — for her to object in any way she sees fit, but she doesn’t.

“You might have a point there.” She watches the way his smile returns.

“So is that a yes?”

Daisy reaches up to take his face in her hands, coarse stubble beneath her palms as she glides her thumbs over his cheekbones. Her turn to begin a sentence with a kiss.

“Ask me again in front of your mother with a ring that’s all mine, and then  you’ll get an answer. Promise.”

Marriage. The thought had always been there — she’d wanted to get married, at some point, to somebody. As a teenager the idea scared her a bit — the thought that she could pick the wrong person clashing with the fantasy in her head of white wedding gowns and her father walking her down the aisle. It only worsened when she found out about the cheating. If she dared think about anything that wasn’t work, or the war, or James, it would tread into territory of her future spouse wrapped up in a secretary or something. Loving someone that wasn’t her.

Ron isn’t just somebody. And the thought of marrying him doesn’t scare her at all. It’s like a piece snapping into place, something sound and correct that she can envision clearly, even if the details are hazy.

One day in a not-so-distant future, he’s going to ask her to marry him. And she’s a hundred percent certain that she’s going to say yes.

The door opens and with that, the whooping and laughter from Harry and Nixon bounce off the walls, bottles of what she can assume is whiskey on ice in a bucket tucked into his arm. She catches Ginny behind the two of them with a small smile on her face, shoulders shaking in laughter.

“There he is! We aren’t interrupting something, are we?” Lew asks, more hypothetical than anything as Ron lets his hands fall to turn around. Ginny, on the other hand, eyes the new piece on Daisy’s neck and gives her a knowing look.

Lew doesn’t wait for an answer, he throws himself on the lounger with a catlike grin, and Harry reaches for one of the bottles.

Ron gives her a look as Harry pops off the cap, and all Daisy does is laugh.

[irisu-syndromemes]

plagiarizing an obscure indie game for lazy hip hop and rap

youtube is currently going up in flames over plagiarism found in many people's channels, particularly documentary-ish videos that have commentary from the uploader. this seems to be mostly because of that hbomberguy and his recent video about plagiarism on the website, as well as a specific person who's drowning in controversy lately.

i admit that i don't want to watch the video, because i've watched other videos already, and i've heard about the other channels' plagiarism through the grapevine. plagiarism IS awful, and it's a disgrace to find it's way more commonplace than i thought.

all this made me remember something... a few weeks ago i remembered that i once found a few songs on youtube, and 1 on spotify, that straight up steal music from an old indie horror game that's stayed pretty obscure throughout the years. so i spent the next few days trying to find every youtube upload with stolen music from it, as well as the respective channels, and even uploads on other websites (which i did find; one of them was even "for sale" on a beat-selling website).

it made me angry. it made me sick. to see so many idiotic hip hop "artists" steal someone else's work, sometimes even selling it, because they're hacks who can't be bothered to put in the work for their craft. i accumulated quite a number of tabs of people who did this - WAY too many links to videos and uploaders - and then...

i closed them all. i was furious and it was making me go crazy. my mental health was taking a hit and i knew there was nothing i could do...

the game they're all stealing from is called Irisu Syndrome, and it's a short freeware horror game from japan first released in 2008 that has garnered a bit of a cult following. the music is by MusMus, who is credited as Watson in the game. it's still very obscure, but well-known enough that siivagunner has made a "high quality rip" of one of its tracks. in fact, it even inspired Dan Salvato to make Doki Doki Literature Club partially! suffice to say, i adore this game. it may be short, but it left a lasting impression on me (it's a pretty shocking game! those under 16 and easily-disturbed folks should avoid it), so i've never forgotten about it as the years passed.

the game was made entirely by japanese people... this makes any sort of communication between western fans and the dev or MusMus pretty difficult. for the record, the english patch was supposed to be given an official release, but the dev himself couldn't find a way to contact the english translators, so only spanish and mandarin got official versions.

communication is difficult... i can't just email some japanese person who made this game's music all those years ago, with all these links and all this worry in my heart, and expect a response. i don't want to be intrusive.

...but i also care. maybe i care too much. it's incredibly unfair that some bozos are out there stealing the guy's music and getting comments like "this is fire!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥" when all they did was add a beat to the tracks. meanwhile the game stays in obscurity. none of them are popular "musicians" but it's sickening all the same. it's stealing. all i want is for the game's music composer to know, so maybe he can report those uploads himself.

for the record i know about sampling, and this isn't it. using the entire track and then not crediting, that's not innocent "sampling". just wanted to make that clear.

i get cold feet easily. i don't know if i can just email him, if he would read it, if i can make my point clear, if anything could actually be done. i don't want to be intrusive. i don't want to be a nuisance.

but all this recent talk of plagiarism, it got me thinking again. it's incredibly unfair, because even if he was okay with it, the plagiarists didn't ask or credit him. i can't just forget about this, so i'm making this post.

i'm making this post haphazardly, in the hopes someone knows what to do. maybe someone knows of a solution, maybe someone could help. maybe even spreading the word, to someone who knows the right thing to do about this. i've thought of making my own youtube video about this issue, but i have no subscribers, and i get cold feet easily. it would get nowhere.

"it's just music from just some game" but it's a game i love anyway. i have all this worry in my heart, and i don't know what to do.

[intoxicated-chan]

✦ 𝟎𝟎𝟐 ✧ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭?

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission. None of the photos used belong to me! Credits to @/cafekitsune for the divider!!

Series Masterlist // Wattpad Vers.

Content Warnings // 1.2k

Word Count // Light swearing, light bickering, little manipulation, stalking, unconsented photo taking, masturbation (Male)…

It was quite weird seeing Vash outside of the shop, maybe it’s because I never saw him anywhere until now…

Vash laid on his stomach, his legs swung back and forth, giggling like a schoolgirl and blushed like one. His face burned red as his thoughts ran all over the place. He sat up as he thought about you.

He giggles even louder that he uses his pillow to muffle most of it he jumps to his feet, pillow in hand as he dances to his music playing…

But I crumble completely when you cry… It seems like once again you’ve had to greet me with goodbye…

He sets the pillow on his dresser, slipping off his jacket as he sings to the words of the song, setting that down as well. He dances his back to the pillow, taking it into his arms.

Vash kicks his room door open as he dances around his house, twisting and turning, using the pillow like a dance partner, and that partner being you. He finds himself in the kitchen, pulling out plates and pans, snatching condiments from the fridge and then forgetting about them completely.

He sings to the music still playing, and pillow still in his arms. He nearly trips on his feet until…

“Vash?!” He yelps, dropping to the floor. Vash peeks his head out and sees Meryl standing there, “What are you doing?” She closes his door and comes to the kitchen, seeing what he’s done, “Care to explain, mister?”

“Well…”

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” Meryl shouts at the top of her lungs, eyes wide, mouth wide open as she processes what Vash just said, “...You think you’re in love?”

Vash shyly nods, his flesh hand finding his hair, twirling it around his finger, “She’s the most beautiful woman I ever laid eyes on.” He chuckles, then uses both hands to cover his face in embarrassment, “She cares for her friends, she’s kind, but most importantly…”

Meryl leans in closer, “She’s what? What’s important? What?”

“I…” Vash sadly slumps over the table, “I can’t even think of what to say without stuttering like a fool… I only see her in the shop from time-to-time.”

Meryl sighs, “You’re more hopeless than I thought.” She pats his fluffy hair, “You can try to talk to her when she does show up to buy something. Or by chance, you could talk to her when you see her in public.”

“What do I say?”

“Introduce yourself, ask how she’s been, and then, go with the flow. There’s nothing better than a guy showing confidence.” Meryl offers.

“You really think this would work?”

“Of course, even if it doesn’t, there’s more fish in the sea.”

“But what if I want that fish?”

“Then be ready to pass up many relationship chances.”

3:42 PM - PARK

Vash stares at you from a distance, watching you chew on what seems to be a cake pop on a bench. His mind quickly takes the wrong turn, but he shakes it off, he didn’t want to be seen as a weirdo already!

So, with his head held up high and fixing his hair for the hundredth time, he walks proudly over to you. He could feel his face grow red by the second until he found himself standing in front of you.

He waves when you lift your head, “Hey.” He meekly mumbles, cursing at himself, “Long time no see.”

You squint your eyes until it hits you, “Oh, you’re that guy.”

Vash slightly saddens to be seen as that guy but he shakes it ogg, remembering what Meryl said, “It’s Vash, so… How have you been?”

“Oh sorry… I’ve been alright, what about you?”

“Great!”

Then, it becomes awkward. What else should he say? Should he do something? Should he talk about guns? How the hell does this work?!

“Care to sit?” You pat the open space next to you.

Vash doesn’t say anything but nods. He quietly sits next to you, watching the pigeons eat the already thrown seeds. People, friends, or couples walk by, some with children or younger siblings.

“It’s quite nice.” You start, “It’s a shame the weather isn’t always like this. The warmth with a cool breeze, there’s nothing better than this.”

“You must not like the cold.”

You shake your head, “I love the cold, but sometimes I miss the warm cool days. What about you?”

Vash takes a minute to think, he shrugs, “I don’t know, all weather is important for the environment. Plus, even if we could change or control it, what good does it do for the people relying on a different weather system?”

You grow curious, “Open minded, I see.”

“I-Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, no. I think it’s good, having more than one opinion, maybe even seeing a different side than others.”

Vash feels his face grow warm, “You think so?”

“Yeah, just because you’re open minded doesn’t mean you can’t think for yourself. But you like putting people before yourself.”

“How do you know?”

You shrug this time, “I can just tell.”

Before Vash can say anything else, something else catches his eye. Another smile on his face as he calls out, “Hey, Wolfwood!” Waving him over. Vash jumps to his feet, throwing an arm over Wolfwood’s shoulder, “Well, (Y/n)-Chan, meet a good friend of mine.”

Wolfwood sticks his hand out for you to shake, “Nicholas D. Wolfwood, it’s wonderful to meet you, (Y/n)-Chan.” You shake his hand, “I’m sure this idiot hasn’t been bothering you for long. I apologize for his disturbance.”

‘Why did you have to say that?! Why do you ruin everything, Wolfwood?’

“It’s alright.” You tell him, “Vash is a wonderful person, I’m sure he can’t bother me, even if he tries.” It makes Vash blush.

“Well, if he starts bothering you, I’ll be sure to keep him in his place.”

“Hey!”

You remain seated as the two bicker among themselves. It becomes to the point where you have to drag the two out of the park, scolding them.

Then your phone rings, “Oh, I have to take this. I’ll be back!”

Wolfwood looks at Vash, “Tongari, you keepin’ secrets now?” He keeps his eyes on you, watching as you talk on the phone.

“Secrets?” Vash scoffs, “What are you talking about?”

Wolfwood chuckles, putting a cigarette in his mouth, “Hey, calm down. No need to get angry, I’m just askin’ a question. What’s the harm in that?”

“I’m not-! Whatever.”

2:34 AM - (Y/N)’S HOUSE

*CLICK* *CLICK*

Vash clicks his tongue when he sees the photos, “I was too slow. I couldn’t get to her face in time.” He lifts the camera up again, watching you slip off the towel, and then…

*CLICK*

He smiles proudly, finally having a photo of your nude body. He was even happier that he got to see you himself. That’s when he feels his pants tighten and his body grow hot. He swallows nervously as he watches you change clothing.

“I’ll have to hurry…” Vash mumbles, setting his camera down and unbuckling his pants, “I don’t want (Y/n)-Chan to catch me like this.”

Taglist // @themaskismyface , @jasperthechaosgremlin ,

[tumblingxelian]

Storyteller Akuma: K, this thought wouldn’t leave me be, but I'm not sure how well it’s going to translate from brain to page, so bear with me.

I see part of Ladybug Not Being Affected . . . like, she is being influenced, it just SEEMS like she isn’t, because 1) as we discussed, she's the hero, & 2) 1 of the major influencers right now is CHAT NOIR, who knows Ladybug really damn well, so she's basically herself, right? Well one thing that just hit me-

Right now, Ladybug IS NOT Marinette.

Like, as much as people write about it, Ladybug & Marinette are not separate people. Ladybug is not an entire act Marinette is putting on, but rather an extension of herself. Ladybug makes choices that Marinette absolutely would, because THEY ARE THE SAME PERSON. BUT . . . No one knows who Ladybug is behind the mask. Not even Chat. So things DO go a little different, because Marinette's BIAS isn’t there.

Cause like. I think we all agree that Marinette is very "Black-White/What-Is-This-Grey-You-Speak-Of?" in her worldview. It's basically why, when Chloé DOES make efforts to change, they go either unacknowledged, or misinterpreted, because Marinette has several YEARS of Chloé being a rude, unrepentant, Rich Bitch Bully. & I'm not saying it’s wrong for Marinette to think that way, but it's what makes it all so hard for the girls to see where the other is coming from. It colours their every interaction, even when Chloé is trying her hardest to please Ladybug. But right now? Ladybug isn't - CAN'T - be Marinette. & her biggest influence is Chat Noir, who sees Ladybug as herself, yes, but also her BEST self. So that changes things.

Like, Ladybug is AWARE that she's really Marinette Dupain-Cheng. But if she focuses too hard on that, she starts slipping into whatever the Storytellers see Marinette as, & nope, can’t do that, so we are Ladybug right now! & none of the Storytellers know that Ladybug is Marinette, so they don’t think to apply Marinette actions to Ladybug. & what this really means, is that Ladybug finds it easy to be sympathetic to Chloé in particular. Because without the years of animosity between them, if Marinette had met Chloé as a teen, & seen first hand how her parents treat her? Oh, she'd be FURIOUS. How DARE they treat their daughter like that!? Can't they see how they're hurting her!? How hard she's trying to be what they want!? How miserable she is!?

Or what about Adrien? Without the crush blindness, what does she think of him? How does she see him? Like, yes, at the core Ladybug & Marinette are the same person, but - *inarticulate gestures cause my brain is failing me*

It basically lets her view the whole situation objectively, so when everything is over . . .

Ooh I am excited!

Yeees, yeah I can totally see this, I love exploring the distinction in identities and sense of self that come with the mask. (Ask me about Six-Teen-Heroes sometime XD) But yeah cos like, her magic, role in the Akuma's narrative and all three but especially Chat's dominant experience with her means Ladybug is gonna be pretty close to her professional hero self... While Marinette is sort of... Not quite there right now.

Also yeah Chat not knowing whose behind the mask plays heavily into things to, so true, he only as the Ladybug perception. & Marinette returning to the field will have been 'in character' as well.

You are also right I hadn't considered that but I love it! Cos yeah she's got several years of negative experience with Chloe & a rather simplistic world view where parents are good & loving, authority figures are generally reliable and being nice is natural and easy. Intellectually she may know bad parents exist but Chloe's life on the outside looking in, is not super obvious on that front unless coming at it from an adult or more neutral perspective. So to Marinette there's no real explanation save "Spoiled rotten". But for Ladybug, none of that stuff applies!

Let alone the fact that Chat probably wouldn't mind it if they got along, he always seemed amused by their interactions X3 Also true facts on her best/ideal self.

Yeah there's definitely be some dissonance there, and to avoid losing herself she probably leans harder on Ladybug but is maybe also a lil freaked out somewhere cos she doesn't want to not be herself either. Everyone's getting a messed up mind today!

so they don’t think to apply Marinette actions to Ladybug.

Action, feelings or history, so at most its like, oh the ever professional Ladybug can be a bit eh on the exuberant Chloe & that's at worst.

Also yeah I can see it, hell if they'd only met as heroes she'd possibly be full on fond of her even without seeing her trauma. Or at least able to go "OK that was rude but like, god damn what an over reaction." Let alone yeah Audrey at least would be something she could pick up on. Add in stuff like Maladikator and all the pieces would fall into place given Akuma are not meant to harm their loved one's and both her parents try to harm or use her as Akuma. So it'd be all red flags all the time, especially cos she's a hero in all their eyes.

Gosh yeah that'd be interesting, like does Adrien's perception of himself as Adrien VS Chat play into things as well? So many angles!

But yeah I love this so much.

Low key just imagining post purifications everyone just flops onto the floor unsure what to do with themselves. Probably feeling a bit eased up like in that original ask I sent you:

The rich kids have taken knives to each other. They've cut open their festering wounds. The rot is exposed, scrubbed raw. While they lie angry, bleeding, crying, and dying [inside], they have the opportunity to look upon themselves once more and apply new dressings.

Or maybe a little relieved, or hell jus confused. Marinette-Bug is not much better, but like if Chloe tries to flee, or put up an act, she might just get that hug she's been starving for all her life and just fucking breakdown sobbing.