#short groove melody

[coralinnii]

Hello Coral~~💖💖✨✨ Congrats on your 2.7k Milestone 💐🎂✨ Like many others, I love your villainess au and happy that many people is supporting it ✨✨ For the event request, I have some brain rots about Sebek Silver Malleus being in a friendly culture (maybe theyre visiting Yuu's hometown and its really welcoming like the people from Kalim's Hometown)!! they refer to them as like their family, gifts them foods the very moment they visited, and not bothered that theyre faes since they know theyre just creatures who protects nature~ i think its a nice culture shock for them considering how secluded and proper briar valley is ✨

‧₊˚✧ It Takes a Village‧₊˚✧ 

↳ Getting Culture Shock from Your Hometown

feat: Sebek ❋ Silver ❋ Malleus genre: fluff, note: no pronouns were used for reader, established relationships, set before Book 7 (mostly because I haven’t finished it yet),

A lot of the scenarios are inspired and modeled after my experiences growing up, which is very Southeast Asia-coded. So, I apologise if this is not actually how you envision. Hope you still enjoy, though. 

similar post: Getting Culture Shock from your Friendly Family (Sebek, Silver, Malleus)

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

You’d be absolutely evil if you didn’t even try to warn your uptight boyfriend. I’d love you for that  

Sebek has finally found his match as his own voice gets drowned out by the boisterous market vendors and customers, but he’s more surprised by the forward way everyone seems to address each other. 

“Sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m-” 

“Sebek, he’s not really my uncle. We call everyone that.” 

You would have to keep Sebek on tight hold because he’s a gullible green bean. The freshman burns in embarrassment at every “handsome boy” or “strong guy” comment calling out for his attention. He won’t lie, his ego is inflated quite a bit but it’s still strange to hear someone other than you call him that. 

On the other hand, he’s not too sure how to feel when vendors of all ages were calling out to you the same way. You may be used to it but Sebek isn’t, especially if he’s not used to calling you beautiful or cute himself yet. 

But, he could take this as a challenge to improve himself. For every compliment they give, he’ll give you tenfold. This he swears!

To your luck, it seems that the market the two of you were visiting was hosting a mini concert as music and lights filled a well-known open space near the market. 

Visitors and locals young and old surrounded the space, either resting while eating their confections or grooving to the catchy tune of the music blasting through the speakers. 

Then, a particularly famous song began to play, and Sebek flinched as the crowd suddenly burst in excited cheers and laughter, you included. Many women and men jumped to their feet, with some confidently running to the center of the space. You jumped to your feet as they did, but you chose to stand close to your confused boyfriend. 

Sebek’s expression was a comedic masterpiece as he watched you and many others start this synchronized sequence of silly movement, identical to the minor beat. Those who didn’t join were still clapping in unison while joyously laughing. 

What sort of local ritual was this? 

The synchronous dance was short lived, and soon people were divided into those who resumed their previous activity or continued swaying to the melody. 

You fell into the latter category, even reaching to Sebek hoping to persuade him to join you. 

Sebek was shocked and a little offended. He was a man of great honor and pride. He’d rather be caught dead than to devolve himself to this undignified manner of dance, if you could even call it so. No, he would never stoop so low, even if the string lights gave off this tempting glow around you, your soft hand still reaching out to him while you looked at him so lovingly… 

Well, the knight-in-training thought he could allow such exceptions once in a while, especially when you smiled so beautifully when he joined you on the dance floor. 

Don’t let Sebek know, but he became sort of a local online sensation as someone slyly took a video of him smiling so softly at you after putting on such a grumpy persona. 

Every reshare of this video was always paired with the caption, “Scary man turns into puppy for his lover”  

See, you can’t tell if your community is being especially friendly, or maybe it’s just that the beautiful young man next to you is just too irresistible to ignore. 

All the chatty aunties were cooing over Silver and even the laid-back uncles sitting around were praising the cut of Silver’s muscular figure. 

But, you won’t say anything because you just wanted Silver to smile and bask in the well-deserved praises. 

“The locals here are quite friendly to strangers like me, even offering small treats.” 

“Mhm, they sure are.” 

Silver is amazed by the seamless blend of close bonds and community from what he sees. Customers casually chatting with workers as children run around without worries in this homely environment. 

In comparison to them, Silver felt a little inadequate as he couldn’t express himself as openly as the locals do so easily. 

But maybe because they’re so open with everyone, he feels this sense of safety to try. 

“So you’re not from around here, are you?” The kind woman asked the silver-haired man as her fingers deftly package and wrap some snacks you two picked out to share with others back in NRC. 

“No, I’m actually from Briar Valley.” 

“Hmm, that’s the fae kingdom, right?” The woman’s curiosity peaked. “Are you fae, then? I couldn’t tell.” 

“Well no, I’m human. I was adopted by my father who’s from Briar Valley.” 

“Just him? No one else?” The store owner asked without looking at Silver once, instead moving back and forth to get things done behind the counter, but her attention was still locked on him.

“There were a few others I grew up with, but my father was the one who raised me” 

It was only then when the busy woman slowed down a smidge, pausing for a moment before untying the bag that held your snacks. You watched her tossed a few more small packets of snacks near her counter. 

“These are very popular, share them with your father.” She looked sternly into your boyfriend’s iridescent eyes, the first time in a while since you’ve been in the store. “Make sure to visit him, okay?” 

Silver wanted to protest, to correct the misunderstanding. The snacks the two of you picked out already included some for Lilia and he couldn’t possibly ask for more without paying. 

It was up to you to intervene. “Just give up, Silver. You can’t change a woman’s mind.” 

The store owner nodded. “Listen to the smart one. Just take it, I insist.” 

With a sliver of guilt but a lot of warmth, Silver eventually accepted the kind woman’s offering before leaving the establishment. 

What Silver didn’t see however, was you sneaking a few snacks and a drink onto the counter with adequate fare tucked underneath. You shared a look with the store owner before leaving, playfully staring her down to not to refuse your offering. 

The store owner let out a laugh, thinking what a cute couple you were. 

Regardless of wherever he goes, Malleus sticks out like a sore thumb, a very intimidating sore thumb. 

Eyes naturally glance at him with curiosity throughout the market, amazed by the regal figure walking around, like a celebrity strolling around the local areas. 

If your hometown speaks another language, some of the market vendors would tell you not-so sneakily how attractive your lover was while Malleus was none the wiser.

But, as curious as the humans were, they were quick to accept him as is, which shocked the fair-skinned fae. It wasn’t as though he was being avoided or judged, but rather the community took him and his inhuman appearance as typical. Undaunted by anything, the nosy sellers would joke and compliment him like any other walking around here. 

“What a handsome fae you are, you can be a model!” “And tall! He can reach the top of our tent, haha!”

Malleus can tell his horns and ears are eye-catching to say the least, but everyone was quick to grow accustomed to his features, even warning him to watch his head should he bump into anything in this crowded alley. 

“Are those with my features a common prevalence in your homeland?” 

“No, you’re a rarity around here. But that doesn't mean you don’t belong here any less.” 

“Ah, so this is how a beautiful soul is cultivated,” Malleus thought, gazing softly as you and a kind merchant searched around the store for a shirt that could fit the future king.

The day was setting, and you and Malleus decided to rest at a popular park that was famous for its view of the town. You weren’t alone as both locals and visitors filled the space, either resting or making memories with their friends and families. 

Then, you heard a whisper from a timid voice behind the two of you. 

“Um, mister.” You turned around to see some local children looking curiously at Malleus. 

“Are you fae?” The eldest boy spoke first, nervously clutching his jacket. 

When Malleus calmly responded in affirmation, the other children lit up with excited smiles. 

“You’re super tall, taller than my dad!” Another child exclaimed, “Are all fae tall like you?” 

Malleus smirked rather haughtily. “Very few others, fae or otherwise, stand on par to myself.”

”I’m the tallest in my class!” The eldest boy blurted out, even puffing his chest and slightly leaning on his toes. “It’s because I drink my milk everyday. Do you drink milk?” 

You abruptly nudged your lover before intervening. “Yes he does, which is why you need to drink milk and other healthy food to keep growing.” 

A little girl, hidden behind the first two children, spoke out. “How long is your hair? My hair is really long too!” 

She pushed her long braided hair to the front, comparing her neatly combed hair to Malleus’s direction. 

“Your hair is quite long indeed, perhaps matching mine in length at first glance.” Malleus commented back, amused by the children’s competitive nature. 

After sharing all of their thoughts, the curious children finally left when their guardians called them back, waving at the two of you before running out of sight. Now free, Malleus looked to you with curiosity of his own gleaming in his striking green eyes. 

“The offspring of this land are inquisitive as they are fearless,” Malleus smiled in your direction. “I wonder if all children hailed from here shared these traits.” 

Were you like them as a child? 

You picked up on his unspoken question and replied with a cheeky expression. “Wouldn’t you like to know~” 

Would he? Would he like to know if you were the type to run around so carefree and see the world with such interest and curiosity. If your future children would be like those endearing little ones just now…

Yes, he would.

[lumiileth]

let you break my heart again

pairing: Shanks x Marine!Reader, Garp’s Daughter!Reader, Familial!Luffy x Reader

tags: Bittersweet, Unrequited Love, Angst, Non-Sexual Tension, No Use of Y/N, Small Physical Descriptions

word count: 7.400

summary: She was an anchor, foolishly reaching for the tide, but Shanks was the sea—vast, restless, and never meant to be caught.

or: She realized that Shanks and Luffy were the same - both too wild and free-spirited to be held back, they were always going to chase their dreams, while she just had to accept being left behind.

Contrary to popular belief, Garp was not a failure. Two of his grandsons might’ve been pirates, the (currently unknown) third grandson and his son were in a group that opposed the World Government directly—more so, his son happened to be the leader of said notorious group—but Garp was not a failure, this was a story far before three of his grandchildren venture the world, a story of Garp’s daughter who happened to be a Vice Admiral.

She was the only person who survived Garp’s harsh beatings and still went to become a Marine, rose up the ranks and became a Vice Admiral in a short amount of time, without the help of Garp’s notorious name. She had been raised under Garp’s strict yet strangely affectionate hand, harsh, but his fist of love, in her mind, was loving indeed. Unlike Garp, who happened to be the Hero of the Marines, a name that makes few pirates quiver in fear, she had a slightly different job description other than the normal Marine duty.

She was Luffy’s caretaker. (Aunty!)

Garp had left him in her care more often than not, dropping him off in Dawn Island with nothing but his usual booming laughter and a dismissive wave. It had been her arms that carried him when he scraped his knees, her scolding that rang in his ears when he got into trouble. She had been the one to ensure he ate proper meals, even when he whined about wanting meat and nothing else. She had been the one to sit by the shore, watching him grin at the horizon and dream of an adventure she could not give him.

The first time in years, she heard of Shanks through her own nephew, Luffy, she didn’t really get to see him.

Marines duties mean that she couldn’t be with Luffy every day, but when she got back to Foosha Village, Luffy excitedly told her of a Red-haired pirate named Shanks who was a super cool pirate and went on super cool adventures.

(She should teach him more vocabulary)

Luffy was still animatedly telling her about the pirate he had encountered, though her thoughts drifted, carried by the rhythm of the waves, back to a time when things had been simpler—not easier, but simpler. Before the weight of a uniform, before duty carved its place into her bones, before she had to choose what kind of person she would become.

A tune played in her mind, faint but familiar, and without thinking, she hummed along. The melody belonged to the sea. It was a song of open horizons, of laughter caught in the wind, of voices raised against the vast blue.

She was lost back then, stranded in a ship her father sought for, but somehow, for the first time, she felt like she belonged.

A beaming face flashed through her mind—grinning, untamed, golden like the sun. A voice, warm as sunlight on wood, reached across the years.

"You’re free to join me, kid!"

The memory struck like a wave, crashing over her before she could brace herself.

She could still hear the distant sound of boots against timber, the rustling of an old coat caught in the wind. She could still feel the way the ship had rocked beneath her feet—not just any ship. His ship.

Her fingers twitched, as if they still remembered the worn grooves of the railing she used to lean against, watching the horizon stretch endlessly before her.

She exhaled sharply, dragging herself back to the present.

"That was a lifetime ago."

And yet, no matter how much time passed, no matter how deep she buried it, the ocean never forgot. It carried whispers of the past in every crashing wave, every shifting tide.

“What was that, Aunty?” Luffy’s grin still wide, not a speck of annoyance or any negative emotions from being interrupted.

“No, nothing.” She dismissed, “What were you saying, Lu?”

–

The next time the Red-Haired Pirates docked in Foosha Village, she had been there, watching from a distance with suspicion. The village hadn’t changed much—still quiet, still warm, still untouched by the chaos of the wider world. But she had changed, and so had he.

She leaned against the thick trunk of a tree, arms crossed, her sharp gaze following the familiar ship as it bobbed gently in the harbor. The villagers greeted the pirates with ease, laughing as they carried barrels of supplies toward the shore. They trusted Shanks and his men. They always had.

But trust was a fragile thing.

She knew who they were. She knew their captain quite well—perhaps too well. Once upon a time, before either of them had carved out their own paths, she had sailed alongside him. Before they had their own crews, before his captain fell, before she understood the weight of what it meant to choose a side.

And she had chosen.

She knew what pirates stood for��what they embodied. Freedom, recklessness, defiance. Chaos incarnate. And yet, Shanks had never seemed bound by the ugliness of the title. He carried it differently, with an ease that was as frustrating as it was dangerous.

So when he turned and met her gaze across the clearing, when he grinned like the years between them hadn’t built walls of duty and ideology, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to scowl or sigh.

He approached with the same unhurried confidence he had always possessed, hands loose at his sides, his red coat draped over one shoulder. The years had deepened the lines at the corners of his eyes, but the amusement in them remained the same.

“You’re a Marine now, huh?” His voice was warm, teasing, laced with that infuriating sense of knowing. “Never thought I’d see the day where the snot-nosed brat turned into someone all high and mighty.”

She scoffed, shifting her weight, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a real reaction. “Never thought I’d see the short kid with a crew of his own.”

That made him laugh—a real, full-bodied laugh, the kind that rang through the air and made the villagers glance their way with knowing smiles. He hadn’t changed. Not really.

But she had.

And they both knew it.

Still, for a fleeting moment, standing there in the dappled sunlight with the sound of the waves in the distance, she almost let herself believe that things were still simple.

Almost.

–

She exhaled sharply, crossing her arms as she regarded the red-haired pirate. He didn’t understand. Not really. He saw Luffy’s freedom, his dream, and admired it—but he hadn’t been the one to watch over him, to worry constantly, to fear the day Luffy would sail away and never come back. the sea, the undeniable will that burned in his chest, the same fire she had tried so hard to protect him from.

"Heard you’ve been telling Luffy stuff," she muttered, voice lower, as if saying it too loudly would make it real. "He's just a kid."

Shanks only smiled, something knowing behind his eyes. "So was I. So were you."

She scowled at him, unimpressed. "That’s not the same."

He chuckled, easy and carefree, shifting the weight of his coat over his shoulders. "Maybe not. But you know as well as I do—you can’t control him. Not anymore."

She hated that he was right.

Luffy bounced between them, looking between their tense exchange with wide, curious eyes. "Wait, wait, wait—you two know each other?"

Shanks grinned down at him. "Something like that."

"Aunty, you know Shanks?!" Luffy gasped, as if the very thought was unbelievable.

Shanks barked out a laugh, slinging an arm around her shoulder in the same way he used to when they were kids—like it was nothing, like there weren’t years between them, like the world hadn’t drawn lines in the sand between them.

"Know me?" Shanks grinned wide, pulling her into his side despite her very pointed attempt to shove him off. "Kid, your aunty used to follow me around like a lost puppy."

Her fist collided with his stomach before he even finished his sentence.

"Ow—!"

Luffy laughed wildly, eyes shining. "Really?!!"

"No!" she snapped at the same time Shanks smugly drawled, "Maybe."

She groaned, stepping away before she lost any more of her sanity. It was infuriating how easily he weaved himself into her life again, as if the years apart didn’t matter, as if they weren’t standing on opposite sides of the law.

Shanks rubbed his stomach where she’d punched him, grinning despite himself. "Still got that right hook, huh?"

She shot him a glare that would have made lesser men tremble. "And I'll use it again with Haki if you keep talking."

His laughter followed her as she walked away, but she ignored it, ignored the warmth in her chest, and ignored the fact that Shanks had never really left her thoughts all these years.

And deep down, she knew he never would.

–

The next time the Red-Haired Pirates docked, she didn’t expect to see Shanks. At least, not really. She heard the usual buzz from the villagers—excited chatter, playful groans about the ruckus his crew always brought—but she’d learned to ignore it. She had work to do, and a certain red-haired pirate was the last thing she needed occupying her thoughts.

Yet, here he was.

Standing in front of her, grinning like a fool, struggling to balance—of all things—a fully grown tangerine tree in his arms.

The bush was far bigger than him, its leafy branches swaying as he adjusted his grip. She blinked, staring at him, a little exasperated, a little dumbfounded. What was he even doing?

Shanks tilted his head, peering around the tangle of branches just to get a better look at her, and when he called her name—just like that, so easy, so familiar—her heart did something funny.

A flutter. A hesitation. A warmth she refused to acknowledge.

Maybe she hadn’t let go of her feelings from back then.

"Look what I found," he said, his voice as bright as the sea breeze, thick with amusement. "A fully grown tangerine tree, your favorite!"

Her mouth opened—then closed. She stared at the tree, the vibrant, ripe fruit hanging lazily from its branches. Her favorite. A passing remark she’d made more than a decade ago, back when she was still young, still trying to figure out who she was in the grand scheme of things. And he remembered.

Of course, he did.

She crossed her arms, raising a brow. "Shanks, why—"

"Don’t worry, I stole it fair and square," he interrupted, far too pleased with himself.

She sighed, dragging a hand down her face. "That��s not—That’s not better."

He laughed, shifting the tree in his arms like some grand treasure, completely unbothered. Just like always.

And just like always, she felt herself slipping—falling into the space where Shanks wasn’t just a pirate, where the weight of their titles, their paths, didn’t matter.

Maybe, just for a second, she let herself forget.

“Aunty!” Luffy excitedly shouted, something he’d do when seeing the red haired pirate, “What’s that?” He circled around the tangerine tree in awe, Dawn Island wasn’t a suitable island for tangerine trees, they need well drained and a slightly acidic soil to thrive, she didn’t not have the privilege to play gardener in her free time.

“It’s a tangerine tree,” She offered Luffy her lap as she took a tangerine, peeling it off for him, “It’s my favorite,” Her gaze softened and she saw Luffy complained about the tangerine being sour.

Shanks looks at the duo with warmth, he didn’t realize there would be a day where the brute kid he once knew could be a soft mother figure to a rambunctious boy, but he realized that his heart did something funny.

Maybe it was just because the scene in front of him was endearing.

Nothing more.

–

The sun hung low over Foosha Village, casting golden light over the docks where the Red-Haired Pirates were loading up supplies onto the Red Force. The scent of salt and fresh fruit lingered in the air, mixing with the easy laughter of pirates enjoying their last moments on land.

Mayor Wood Slap stood with his arms crossed, watching the familiar sight of Shanks and his crew preparing to leave once again. He let out a huff, shaking his head.

"Shanks has been here for a while, hasn’t he?" the mayor muttered, eyeing the pirate captain, who was laughing at something Luffy had said.

Beside him, she stood with her hands tucked into her coat pockets, watching the scene unfold.

"Too long," she admitted, though her voice lacked any real bite.

Mayor Wood Slap glanced at her and sighed.n

“You’ve also been her a little too long, Ms. Vice Admiral,” The Mayor said with a slight edge, her title being used for teasing. “Might as well just get married and move in!”

She grimaced, but the thought itself didn’t disgust her, just the realization that, yes, she has been here quite a while, it seemed she couldn’t part away from Dawn Island, not when Shanks is here and willing to stay for more than a few weeks.

"Stop this Marine foolishness, your father is enough of a Marine for this whole village!"

She didn’t react at first, simply watching as Luffy clung to Shanks' arm, pouting about something. The pirate ruffled the boy’s hair with a lopsided grin, and for a moment, it almost looked… normal. Like a family.

She exhaled through her nose. "You know I can't do that." A small smile tugged at her lips, finding amusement at the Mayor’s statement.

Makino, wiping her hands on her apron, leaned against the wooden railing with a warm smile. "Don’t you ever want to settle down, Mrs. Marine-chan?" she teased, her tone lighthearted.

She snorted at the nickname but didn’t argue.

"Yeah," she admitted, her gaze softening as it drifted to Luffy, who was now sitting cross-legged on a barrel, animatedly telling Shanks something about travelling through the seas, wanting to become a pirate. His eyes sparkled with excitement, his hands moving wildly as he spoke.

"I’d want that, actually."

Makino tilted her head. "Then why don’t you?"

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Because people like me don’t get that kind of life."

Mayor Wood Slap huffed again, shaking his head. "You sound just like your father."

She didn’t respond. Instead, she just kept watching Luffy, the boy who would eventually chase after the sea just like Shanks.

Just like all the things she couldn’t hold onto.

–

Little did she know, Shanks heard everything

Shanks hadn’t meant to listen. Not really. He’d been overseeing his crew, hands resting easily on his belt, exchanging laughs with Benn and Yasopp while making sure the men loaded the last of their supplies onto the Red Force. But her voice—steady, thoughtful—cut through the casual chatter, anchoring his attention before he even realized it.

"Yeah. I’d want that, actually."

For a moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t turn. Just stood there, gaze fixed ahead, as if the words hadn’t settled under his skin like a slow-burning ember. It wasn’t what she said—it was the way she said it. Soft, sure. Not a fleeting thought, not an empty remark. A truth she might not have meant for anyone to hear.

He tilted his head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of her—not the Marine, not the soldier, but the girl who once ran barefoot through The Oro Jackson, who had always been just a little too stubborn, a little too untouchable. And yet, there she was, looking at the kid with an expression he couldn’t really decipher.

Shanks exhaled, a slow chuckle forming at the back of his throat before he swallowed it down. He didn’t tease. Didn’t joke. Didn’t let the thought linger longer than it should.

Instead, he turned back to his crew, grinning as if nothing had changed. Because maybe nothing had. Or maybe, years down the line, when their paths crossed again, he’d remember this moment—not because of what she’d said, but because of the way, for the first time, he’d wondered what it might mean if she really meant it.

–

And she meant it

-

“So,” His Firstmate drawled out, “You knew our captain since back then?” He nonchalantly offered her a cigarette which she happily took, rarely did she ever do so, but her stress has been piling up, with The Red-Haired pirates docking for a while, on top of Luffy’s claim of wanting to become Pirate King, and Marine duties.

She stared at the infamous Benn Beckman, she noted that she was attractive, an air of authority surrounding him.

“Was lost once, sailed for a while,” She breathed in the cigarette, blowing out the smoke, her tense body relaxed slightly, the nicotine taking effect.

Beckman grinned.

“How did that go?”

–

Gol D. Roger had a habit of picking up strays. Shanks and Buggy were proof of that. But this? This was something else entirely.

For months now, they’d had an extra pair of hands on the ship—small, quick, and strangely competent for a kid. No one really questioned where she came from. She pulled her weight, didn’t cause trouble (well, no more than Buggy and Shanks, which was already the bare minimum because of their pirate apprentice status), and had a sharp tongue that fit right in with the rest of the crew.

She didn’t even flinch at the chaos that was the Oro Jackson, which made Roger think she belonged here.

Shanks had unofficially adopted her as his tiny sparring partner. Buggy swore up and down that she was a cursed demon child because she always managed to mess with him without getting caught. Scopper Gaban taught her how to tie proper knots, Rayleigh made sure she didn’t get herself killed, and even Roger himself had taken a liking to the little menace.

She was a pirate alright.

–

Being one of the three kids in the infamous pirate ship, Oro Jackson, meant you had to fight for good sleeping spots. The older you get, the more you think that sleep is just sleep, but as someone with youth, anything could be made a competition, and that includes getting the best sleeping spot in the ship.

And somehow, the best spot had been claimed by Buggy.

"This is my bed," Buggy said, sprawled across the best hammock in the entire ship. "Go find your own."

She frowned and crossed her arms, annoyed at the clown’s behavior. "But you’re always sleeping there!"

"No." Buggy turned to her. "And especially not you. You're tiny. You'll kick me off in your sleep." He regretted saying that, despite being younger, she was actually a bit taller than Shanks and Buggy due to her lineage, the men in her family stood at least 8’ tall, it would be weird if she were any shorter. So at a young age, she was already much taller than the two boys.

The girl raised an eyebrow. "You literally fall off all the time by yourself."

Buggy scowled. "That is not the point."

Shanks smirked. "Guess we'll have to settle this like pirates."

Buggy paled. "Wait—"

It became a war.

Buggy used his Chop-Chop powers to keep them away. Shanks with both of his swords, and the little stowaway with her Haki coated hands.

Roger and Rayleigh watched in amusement from the other side of the deck.

"Should we stop them?" Rayleigh asked, ready to teach the kids a lesson.

"Nah," Roger chuckled, looking at the trio weirdly, yet slightly amused. "This is the most fun I've had all week.

“Though I am curious about how the girl is already using armament haki very well.” Roger questioned, her stance also very familiar, but he didn’t think too much about it, maybe it was just a fleeting thought, nothing of importance.

Eventually, nobody won.

By the time the sky was dead at night, Buggy, Shanks, and the girl were all tangled up in one blanket, snoring. Roger grinned and draped another blanket over them, not wanting to move them from above the ship as he made his way inside towards the most comfortable hammock Buggy had left.

Oro Jackson itself was filled with middle aged men, so snoring was always going to be an issue, but she grew up with the manliest of men, his snoring rivaled that of a lion’s roar, yet she was awake, unwilling to sleep due to said noises.

She saw Shanks and Buggy curled up on the blanket placed on top of them. She wriggled her way out as she saw the beautiful stars in the night sky. Her movement caused another person in the trio to move. Shanks has awakened.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

–

The sea was calm that night, the Oro Jackson rocking gently as the waves lapped against its hull. Most of the crew was asleep, save for a few night watchmen and the two smallest members of the ship—Shanks and her—perched up on the deck, legs dangling over the edge.

Shanks had dragged a blanket out and wrapped it around them both, the night air cool against their skin. The stars above stretched endlessly, shimmering like scattered treasure.

"Ever think about the future?" Shanks asked, breaking the quiet.

She blinked, turning to look at him. "What do you mean?"

Shanks leaned back on his arms, looking up at the sky. "Like… where we'll go. What we’ll do. Y’know, after all this."

She frowned. "You’re not leaving, are you?"

“Aren’t you?” Shanks laughed. "Nah, not yet. I just—" He hesitated, then sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "I dunno. I like being here. I love the crew. But I also wonder… will I ever have my own ship? My own adventure?"

She was quiet for a moment. Then, she nudged him with her shoulder. "You’d be a good captain."

Shanks turned to her, eyes wide. "You think so?"

She nodded. "You’re annoying, but people like you. You’re good at making things fun. And… you care. That’s important."

Shanks felt his face heat up, but he grinned. "You’d be on my crew, right?"

She hesitated, and for the first time that night, Shanks noticed something different in her expression. A shadow of something unspoken.

"...Eh."

Shanks frowned. "Why not?"

She picked at a loose thread on the blanket. "I don’t belong here." It suddenly dawned at her that she left something big at home, despite loving the sea, loving the adventures, it is not the life she was meant to have, she wasn’t meant to have freedom, she was meant to follow rules, and maybe then, she can grant people who are treated unjust by the system freedom, a heavy thought in her young mind.

Shanks tilted his head. "Because of… where you came from?" He still didn’t know anything about her past, though he had his assumptions, he rather not voice it out loud to avoid saying something wrong.

She didn’t answer, but the way her fingers tightened around the fabric said enough.

Shanks stayed quiet for a moment, then scooted a little closer. "You know, even if you don’t stay, that doesn’t mean we stop being family."

She looked up at him. "You really think that?"

He grinned. "Duh. We’re Shanks, Buggy, and," He puffed out his chest dramatically, mentioning your name last "Unstoppable. The best trio on the Oro Jackson!"

She laughed, rolling her eyes. "That’s not even true. We’re not even the second best." She thought of the grinning captain with his right and left hand. Despite not ever seeing them fight, she could feel the potential that they oozed out.

She looked at him for a long moment, then sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. "...You’re really dumb, y’know that?"

"Doesn’t matter," Shanks said, smiling softer now. "We’re still us."

"Yeah, yeah." Shanks grinned, resting his head against hers. "But you’re stuck with me anyway."

She never did interact with kids her age, she was always training, a designated path of her’s is already forged, but she saw Shanks, he had this captivating pull, she saw him as the sun. Buggy, too.

“Forced to, actually,” She giggled, her eyes never leaving the older boy, “It was a coincidence that I’m even here in the first place,”

“Then it’s the best coincidence I had in a while,” Shanks gave her a thumbs up, a dumb grin on his face.

They were the first friends she ever had (and will have)

Her heart fluttered as she took one last look at the red hair, before laying her head on his shoulder, resting.

And under the endless stretch of stars, with the ocean rocking beneath them, Buggy’s snoring filling the air, she decided—maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing.

–

The truth came out in the stupidest way possible.

–

One day, while the Oro Jackson was docked at a quiet island, a Marine ship showed up on the horizon. Normally, this wasn’t an issue—Roger and his crew had ways of avoiding unnecessary fights. But the moment the girl spotted the Marine sails, she groaned, a slight fear in the edge of her voice.

"Ugh,” She started sweating again, she grabbed the back of Roger’s coat, seemingly trying to hide herself from the Marine ship.

Roger quirked a brow. "Afraid of some Marines, lass?” A boisterous laugh escaped his lips, his hand made its way to her back, an act to try and reassure her.

"No." She let go of the captain’s coat and hid behind a crate, taking a peek to get a better look, then muttered, "Just that ship in general.."

Rayleigh narrowed his eyes. "Who’s ship?"

"M-My old man—"

And then the Marine ship got close enough for them to see the massive dog-headed figure standing at the bow.

Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp.

Roger and his entire crew froze, a dumbfounded gaze as they all looked back and forth towards the Marine ship coming at them with steady acceleration and the stowaway who’s been here for months hiding behind a crate.

The girl casually chomped her apple.

"Roger."

"I see him."

"Roger, that’s—"

"I see him, Rayleigh."

Roger whipped around, eyes bulging at the girl who’s currently eating her apple, his apple. "YOUR OLD MAN IS GARP?!" He shouted out, followed by a hearty laugh, it made sense now, why she blended well with the crew, her talent in using armament, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had Conquerors Haki, he knew from the first day he laid eyes on her, she had potential.

"Yup."

"THE GARP?!"

"Uh-huh. . ."

Roger let out a strangled noise somewhere between a laugh and a yell. The entire crew was staring in awe and slight dumbfoundedness, Buggy had fainted, and Shanks looked like he was reconsidering his life choices.

And then, from the Marine ship, Garp’s unmistakable voice boomed over the waves—

"ROGER, YOU DAMN BASTARD! I HEARD YOU HAVE MY DAUGHTER?!"

The girl blinked. "Huh. Guess he is mad."

And that was how Gol D. Roger learned that he had accidentally kidnapped Monkey D. Garp’s daughter.

–

“If he has you as his scary aunt,” Her face grimaced as Shanks drawled out, “His grandpa must be. . .”

“Exactly,” She crossed her arms, unamused by Luffy’s previous exclamation. “I don’t need you telling Luffy nonsense, he’d kill me.”

Shanks laughed, deep and genuine. “He’s got a good heart. You can’t cage a spirit like his.”

She had wanted to argue, to tell him that it was her responsibility to keep Luffy safe, that she had spent years trying to drill sense into him. But deep down, she knew it was a losing battle. Shanks saw the same thing in Luffy that she did—the unstoppable pull of the sea, the inevitable chase for freedom.

And so, she had let it happen. She had watched as Luffy declared his dream to be Pirate King, as he stared up at Shanks with admiration in his eyes. And when Shanks left, she had seen the fire in Luffy’s gaze burn brighter than ever before. Being a Marine was out the window, he was forging his path towards piracy, a dangerous path indeed.

She thinks of his brother—of sharp eyes and a sharper mind, of words laced with both warning and disappointment.

"You’re a fool," he had told her once, standing in the dim glow of a tavern, his voice steady but not unkind. "A cog in a machine that will destroy us. You see it, don’t you? You know what the Marines truly are."

She had known.

She had known since she was old enough to understand what justice really meant—or rather, what it was made to mean. She had seen the way it bent under power, how it served those who wrote the rules, how it crushed those who dared to exist outside its grip. She had watched people dear to her die for the system, a certain kind hearted captain who knew too much for his own good flashed in her mind.

And still, she had stayed.

"Come with me," he had said, offering something she wasn’t sure she deserved. "Fight for something real. We could change this world."

But she had looked at the boy sleeping soundly in the next room, his tiny hands curled into fists even in sleep, and she had made her choice.

"Luffy would be lonely."

Dragon had exhaled then, slow and measured, studying her like he was trying to understand. And maybe, just maybe, for all his ideals and his iron resolve, he had never truly known what it meant to choose family over revolution.

"A child is their parents’ weak spot," he had murmured, almost to himself.

She had watched him turn away, just like he always did. Just like his father always did.

She hated that about Garp—the way he was a Marine first, a warrior of justice before he was ever a father. She hated that he had passed that burden onto his son, that he had shaped him into someone who believed he had to leave to protect them.

And yet, for all his warnings, she saw the way Dragon’s shoulders had eased, just slightly, when she refused his offer.

Maybe, despite everything, some small part of him was relieved that Luffy wouldn’t be left alone.

Her loving gaze on her nephew as she ruffled her hair, Luffy’s smile lighting up her melancholic heart. Her loving gaze on her nephew as she ruffled her hair, Luffy’s smile lighting up her melancholic heart. His hands went straight for the newly laid straw hat on his head.

–

The wind carried the scent of salt and distant storms, rustling through the palm trees lining the shore. The Red Force bobbed gently on the edge of the islands, its red sails catching the golden light of the setting sun. The village was quiet now, the festivities long over, leaving only the sound of waves lapping at the dock.

The Red haired pirates had left that morning, why was the ship still here? Caved away for nobody to see?

She stood at the edge of the wooden planks, hands buried in her coat pockets, watching the pirates load the last of their supplies. She should have left already—should have turned around and walked away before this moment could happen.

But she hadn’t.

Because this was it.

The end of something she couldn’t quite name.

She had always known, deep down, that Shanks was never hers. He was never anyone’s, not really. He belonged to the sea, to the vastness of adventure, to the never-ending horizon that called him away, again and again.

And she? She belonged to something far less free.

“Not even gonna say goodbye?”

She tensed at the voice, the lazy amusement in it, the familiarity that had settled into her bones over the years.

Shanks stood beside her now, close enough that the fabric of his coat brushed against her sleeve. He wasn’t wearing it properly, of course, just draped over one shoulder like he always did. His hair was tousled from the wind, and his lips curled in that lopsided, careless smile of his.

She exhaled slowly. “Didn’t think I needed to.”

He hummed. “That cold, huh?”

She didn’t answer.

For a moment, they just stood there, side by side, watching as the crew finished their preparations. The sun dipped lower, casting everything in warm orange hues, painting the water in gold and crimson.

“I heard what you told Luffy,” she said eventually, voice even, careful.

Shanks scratched the back of his head. “Ah. That.”

She tilted her head slightly, studying him. “You really didn’t think about it at all, did you?”

–

The sun was setting over Foosha Village, casting long shadows across the quiet streets. The Red-Haired Pirates were finishing their preparations to set sail permanently the next morning. They docked here for almost a year, enough to forge meaningful relationships as most of the village had already said their goodbyes, sad that they were finally leaving.

Luffy, however, was still trailing after Shanks, asking endless questions as they sat outside the bar.

"Shanks," Luffy started, legs swinging over the edge of the stool he was sitting on. "Are you and Aunty together?"

Shanks, in the middle of sipping his drink, choked. He coughed violently, thumping his chest as some of the crew nearby turned to look in amusement.

"The hell, Luffy? Where’d you get that idea?" Shanks wheezed, wiping his mouth.

Luffy tilted his head. "Well, Old Man Wood Slap is with the fruit lady. They're always together, so I thought maybe you and her were the same!"

Shanks stared. Then, his face twisted like he'd just bitten into the sourest lemon on the planet.

"NO. No way. Never." He waved his hands frantically. "I don't see her like that at all!"

Luffy blinked. "Huh. Why not?"

Shanks had a teasing grin, his eyes filled with mischief. "Because she’s… you know." He gestured vaguely. "Her. She’s all serious and scary and way too Marine-y." He listed reasons he knew weren’t actual reasons. “Don’t you agree?”

"She’s not that scary," Luffy argued. “Not compared to Gramps, at least!” Luffy had always been much more afraid of Grandpa Garp’s fist of love, despite his aunt saying that it wasn’t even that bad, but what does she know!

"She lectures me more than Beckmann does!" Shanks shot back. "I’d rather fight a Sea King than deal with that for the rest of my life." A teasing laugh escaped his lips, despite the claim he had just made, his eyes were betraying him, a sense of endearment, or maybe more? Luffy, despite being a child, had always had high emotional intelligence, he felt something was off, but he couldn’t decipher it, or didn’t care enough to try.

Luffy hummed, deep in thought, before nodding. "Okay." Then he hopped off the stool and ran off.

Shanks frowned. "...Why do I feel like I just got set up?"

Later that night, she was helping Makino close up the bar when Luffy wandered in.

"Hey," he greeted, climbing up onto a stool. Luffy was here, it was late at night, it seemed he smelled a bit of smoke and maybe booze, indicating he had been with the Red Haired Pirates again. She wasn’t against the idea, at this point, she knew he’d end up a pirate, but God forbid Luffy turning into a drunkard like Shanks.

She raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn’t you be in bed?"

"Nah." Luffy rested his chin on the counter. "Hey, I asked Shanks if you guys were like Old Man Wood Slap and the fruit lady."

She froze, nearly dropping the glass she was holding. Slowly, she turned to look at him. She knew what that meant, Mayor Wood Slap was married to Mary, the old lady selling fruits near the dock, she shuddered at Luffy’s implications. "...You did what?"

"Yeah," Luffy continued, completely unfazed. "He said 'NO WAY NEVER' and that you're too scary."

She blinked. Then, after a long pause, she sighed. She didn’t know why she even thought that there would be a different answer to that.

"...Ah," she murmured, placing the glass down carefully. "I knew it."

Luffy tilted his head. "You don’t care?" He thought something was off, he could’ve sworn he saw something in both her and Shanks! He could’ve had such a cool uncle if they got together! But Luffy was young, he wasn’t aware of romance, let alone the burden romance could bring.

She gave him a small, tired smile. "I never expected anything else."

Luffy watched her for a moment, then nodded. "Okay." He didn’t care a lot, as long as Shanks is still here!

Then, as if nothing had happened, he yawned and stretched. "I’m gonna go bug Shanks before bed!"

And just like that, he ran out the door, leaving her standing there, staring at the counter with an odd mix of relief and something she couldn't quite name.

–

His grin faltered—just a little.

She didn’t need an answer.

Instead, she let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “I was always temporary to you, wasn’t I?”

Shanks looked at her then, really looked at her, his expression unreadable for once.

“You’re wrong,” he murmured, his finger lightly gracing her cheeks.

She turned to face him fully, arms crossed. “Am I?”

His gaze dropped slightly, almost thoughtful. “I don’t hold onto things, you know that.” He paused. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t matter.”

Her chest tightened, a dull ache settling beneath her ribs.

It wasn’t enough. It has never been enough, they will all leave her, sooner or later. She was never enough for the people she knew, she could never make them stay.

It was the truth.

She nodded, more to herself than to him. “That’s what I thought.”

Silence stretched between them. Neither of them moved. The wind picked up slightly, ruffling his hair, making the loose ends of his coat flutter.

Finally, he sighed, shaking his head with a small, rueful smile. “Next time we meet,” he said, voice light but firm, “it’ll be out there.” He tilted his head toward the horizon, where the sky met the sea in endless possibility. “No more villages. No more land.”

She held his gaze.

And for a brief, fleeting second, she let herself wonder.

If they had met differently, if they had been different people—if the world had allowed them something more than fleeting moments and unfinished goodbyes.

But that wasn’t their story. It never had been.

She took a slow step back, the space between them stretching, shifting.

“Goodbye, Shanks.”

His smile was small this time. Not careless, not teasing. Just there.

“See you at sea.”

And then, before she could say anything else, before she could second-guess herself, she turned and walked away.

She didn’t look back.

Because if she did, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep walking.

–

Maybe one day,

–

Shanks was a man of the sea—untamed, unmoored, a wandering tide that kissed the shore only to slip away with the next current. No harbor could hold him, no anchor could keep him still. He was the wind in full sails, the endless horizon, a fleeting echo of laughter carried away by the waves. To love him was to love the ocean itself—beautiful, boundless, and never truly yours to keep.

She learned that the hard way.

–

Maybe, in another life—on a different shore, under a different sky—things would have ended differently. Maybe if she had chosen a different path, if she had let go of duty, of loyalty to a system that never truly deserved her, she could have stood beside him on the deck of his ship instead of watching him disappear into the horizon. Maybe, just maybe, there was a version of their story where she wasn’t left behind. But the sea didn’t wait for those who hesitated, and neither did fate.

Years later, long after the tides had swept away her footprints.

The Thousand Sunny swayed gently with the waves, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. The crew was gathered on the deck, laughter spilling into the open air, plates clattering as Sanji dished out dinner. It was a good night—warm, peaceful, the kind that made the world feel small and safe, if only for a while.

Luffy plopped down near the tangerine tree, balancing his plate on his knees. He grinned as he shoved an entire piece of meat into his mouth, cheeks puffing out like a squirrel. “Mmm! This is so good, Sanji!” he declared, voice muffled.

Sanji scoffed, flicking a cigarette between his fingers. “Of course it is, dumbass.”

Nami sighed, adjusting her seat against the mast. “At least swallow before you talk, Luffy. You’re a captain, not a wild animal.”

Luffy just laughed, smacking his hands against his thighs. “Hey, hey! Did I ever tell you guys about someone I knew who had a tree like this?” He gestured vaguely at Nami’s tangerines, his grin never wavering.

Zoro raised a brow. “What, another person you mooched food from?”

“Oi! That’s not the point!” Luffy huffed before breaking into another laugh. “She had a tree kinda like this..” He leaned back on his palms, gazing at the swaying leaves. “It was behind Mayor Wood Slap’s backyard! But it died because she couldn’t take care of it—” he snorted.

Usopp chuckled. “Sounds a lot like someone I know….”

“Yeah!” Luffy grinned wider, rocking on his heels. “She was real serious, too. Always scolding me, always looking all grumpy—but she was strong.” His eyes sparkled with something almost childlike as he spoke. “I bet if she saw me now, she’d be like, ‘Luffy, you’re such an idiot for making it this far.’”

Brook laughed, tapping his cane against the deck. “She sounds quite formidable! Where is she now?”

Luffy paused for just a fraction of a second. It was barely noticeable.

Then he shrugged, still grinning. “Dunno.”

The conversation moved on—Franky started talking about a new modification for the Sunny, Usopp began spinning a ridiculous story, and Chopper was giggling between bites of food. The laughter carried into the open air, warmth settling over them like a thick summer breeze.

Luffy stayed where he was, still looking at the tree, his smile never faltering.

Not once did he say her name.

Not once did he tell them she was gone.

Because if he did, then maybe it would make it real. And Luffy didn’t like thinking about things like that.

So instead, he laughed louder, ate more, and carried her memory in the quiet spaces between his joy—where no one could see it.

[hatsukeii]

tip-toe (take me back to the ground) / timeskip!iwaizumi hajime x reader

genre(s): domestic iwa omg... fluff!! very soft, straight up sensual fluff!! iwa is hot!! iwa is romantic!! iwa is good at many many things, and good WITH many many things too!! im rotting in bed thinking about what could be one day ngl

warning(s): he's very handsy let's just say that... so suggestive warning!! no explicit nsfw, gn reader, but this will get decently/pretty suggestive towards the end u have been warned:)

wc: ~1.4k

tldr; Iwaizumi Hajime wants dinner (you)

Iwaizumi Hajime likes to come home to the golden glow of table lamps, fluttering wisps of fire on the wicks of cinnamon candles on spice shelves, and a vinyl playing beneath the needle of a record player on the coffee table of his living room. It's not an extraordinarily good record player. Sometimes the pitch wavers uncertainly, almost like when the service drops on a video call and the other person's voice suddenly drops half an octave. Occasionally, the needle skips a note and adds a fleeting pop to whatever song is playing on the record, like when a few embers of a fire crackle a little louder than the rest. Whenever he hears the record player, and the muffled hums from somewhere else that fill in the jumps and correct the warped melodies from the grooves of the vinyl, Hajime feels like having dinner.

When Iwaizumi Hajime stands over the stovetop of his kitchen, sleeves of whatever top he's wearing rolled halfway up his forearms, he listens for something beyond the scratchy song from the vinyl across the living room. He squeezes a few rings of oil into a pan, and pretends to press down on the ignition at the sound of carefully muted tiptoes against wooden floorboards. Hajime is unfazed when a pair of arms slither across his stomach, and cross at his chest, but he smiles at the sensation anyways. Beneath the guise of diffused cinnamon candles, he smells soap and laundry. By how a pair of loose short sleeves slide down your arms to bare your biceps to him, he knows that you're wearing one of his freshly washed t-shirts, and pulling his back closer against your body.

"I'm sweaty, love."

"Good, you know I like it."

If you creep up on Iwaizumi Hajime, clad in slippers and his t-shirt, he can blame nothing but his inhibitions when he abandons the empty pan, and lazily turns to hold you instead. Your arms travel up his back now, hands feeling for every groove around his shoulders, the dip of his spine, the hairs that line his nape. Hajime's fingers reach beneath your shirt for your hip bones, and the record player in the background pops a note. He sinks his palms into the flesh of your waist, pushes you close until he's certain you will melt into him. His thumbs massage the outskirts of your stomach, drawing the scales and arpeggios from the song on the vinyl into your skin, and he begins to sway and step in tandem with the music that fills the room. You press your ear to his chest, synchronise your heartbeats with his own that pulses through your ears and sends your mind into a golden haze. Your feet step from side to side with him, and suddenly, Iwaizumi Hajime is slow dancing in his kitchen with you, instead of having dinner like he initially planned to.

"Missed you all day." He mumbles into the top of your head, lips against your hair.

"I know, missed you too, Hajime." You speak it into his heart through his clothed ribcage.

The song on the record player fizzles out into its next track, one that plays out in piano keys that staccato across rocks in a creek, saxophone that glides like a breeze over the surface of still water, barely causing a ripple, flutes that fly past a waterfront like birds that soar above the earth in bimbling chirps.

Iwaizumi Hajime then decides he wants a little more than just dinner.

His hands push past your waist to your ribs, fingers splaying across the two sides of your back and palms lying flat against the sides of your chest. His vision spins and flips when you sigh against his ribcage, whole body flinching at his sudden advance. He relaxes into your embrace even more, shoulders loosening and hunching into you. He feels your body shift by the way his hands seem to move up with you, and your lips leave their mark on the right side of his neck. You nibble at his skin, and the record player jumps a note again, like a flat stone skipping past the surface of quiet waters. Hajime's throat gives out, a full hum vibrating through his Adam's apple, and your lips curl into a smile against his pulse. He thinks he wants this more than dinner.

You don't realise you are stepping backwards until your heel hits the base of your kitchen island, one of Hajime's hands now settled on the small of your lower back to cushion the impact of the cold countertop. It doesn't matter anymore, really, when Iwaizumi Hajime finally dips down to catch your lips in his own, giving his dinner a first taste. Your eyes flutter close, lashes tickling his cheeks as he sinks himself further into you. Your hands grip the edge of the counter now, steadying yourself so your knees don't give out and collapse beneath you. Hajime kisses slow, but pervasive. He finds every inch of your mouth, swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, swallows your stutters by pushing even harder. Something is off with the track in the background, perhaps the needle is wearing out with how every second note seems to warp and crackle. But you're pressed up against the kitchen counter, Hajime's hands feeling for every inch of your body, so you don't really have half a mind to care about the record player right now.

Strong arms pull you up and onto the countertop, and you part your legs to let Hajime settle between them. You sit taller than he stands here, head angled downwards to meet his own. He is completely at your mercy, and he surrenders his control to you. Your hands grab at the back of his neck, pulling him into you as if he can get any closer than this. Iwaizumi Hajime is content with slow dancing, lingering touches, patient kisses. But he sighs into your mouth. You cut him off by nibbling on his lip. And when he pulls away for air, he thinks you've forced him to want more.

The song fades out into the space of the living room. The water is still again, and the moon invites itself into the scene, painting the notes that still hang in the silence a misty silver.

Your vision soaks in Hajime's expression. His eyes are lidded, half-open, yet something glimmers in his irises that travel across every detail of your face. His cheeks are stained red, the tips of his ears even more so. A glossy sheen of saliva coats the entirety of him mouth, and the skin around it too. You bring a thumb to his mouth, and wipe away at the edges of his lips with the pad of your fingertip. Looking down on Iwaizumi Hajime is not something most have the privilege of doing, and you bask in every second that he stares up at you, as if there is nothing in this lifetime that will be better than the view from below. Your hands hold his face now, fingers running themselves through his hair. He shivers at your touch, dips his head into the crook of your neck. You rub and scratch at his scalp, handfuls of soft hair brushing and pressing against your palms.

"So good to me. Too good."

"Want me to fix up dinner for you, Hajime?"

The record player doesn't make a sound. Night has settled, birds hide away in the branches of trees, the breeze smooths over the surface of the water, rocks and stones sit in the riverbed, unmoving, grounded.

When Iwaizumi Hajime separates his face from your neck, he thinks to himself, one day, I'll put a diamond on that pretty little ring finger. You continue to thread your fingertips through his hair, when he pulls you back for another kiss. This is softer, but you can tell that he is getting hungrier. He moves teasingly slow, almost agonising. His lips are hot against yours, warm breaths from his nose fanning across your cheek, and you don't miss the way his hand slides from your waist to the inside of your thigh. A finger slips beneath the hem of your shorts, pinching and tugging down at the fabric. You wrap your legs around his chest, and he pushes them apart again, holding them in place with his rough palms.

Fuck a dinner, Iwaizumi Hajime wants you instead.

"Gonna take you to the moon tonight, love."

author's note:

yall iwa is so sexy... i can't help it... i've never felt compelled to write anything overtly physical or suggestive but for iwaizumi hajime 27 athletic trainer i felt many many things... i need him sb and i hope that you do too after reading this because i need people to understand how FERAL i am for this man ;P

anyways tags!!

@catsoupki @akaakeis @staraxiaa @chuuya-brainrot @hiraethwa @4ngelfries @bailey-reeds @fiannee @stars-tonight @wyrcan

ok love u all bye bye muah see u next fic

[iwanty0uu]

The guitar fit his hands perfectly, almost as if it was fashioned for only him to play.The melody that rang from the strings struck your soul as your soft rounded eyes met his, low and seductive yet charming pair which stared back at you attentively . You knew from then that he needed to be yours. He was more like his music than you thought he would be, the sound reminded you of the familiar yearning and desire that you felt late at night when you were all alone in your comfortable apartment, tugging at the soft skin of your womanhood for something, someone. You were desperate for touch, love meant nothing now at least. After all of this time being alone and unappreciated, your delicates were forsaken after loosing trust in the one person who was meant to be the love of your life, but tonight you were ready to take a chance.

He led you to the backroom of the party, this place must’ve been his crib..who brings a guitar to a college party? His hands were covered in art, body lean yet still tall and muscular, his cologne filled your pierced nostrils as you fell onto his bed, not even knowing his name. You cursed yourself mentally for letting a stranger in so easily, you didn’t even know his name yet here he was, pretty plush lips gnawing at your beck, leaving dark purple marks on your brown skin, massaging the fat of your thighs as he slowly listed your dress revealing the wine red colored thong that was almost soaked. His fingers curved around them as they were moved to the side revealing the soft shimmer of your slick. His fingers slowly entered while you rolled your hips, they scissored inside of you as your soft plushy walls gripped him as if his fingers were more… The once perfect lip combo that was applied before the party was ruined as he begged you for your orgasm. You desired to call his name so badly but there was none to put to the handsome face in-front of you.. So instead, you observed every mark and dimple you saw, trying your best to keep your eyes open as you were overstimulated with pleasure, puffy lips open drawing deep but staggered breathes as he edged you, pleading to hear the way he made you feel. His lash line was full, his teeth were plated with gold and gems in every color, hair low but still neat, the dark made it hard to see if it was pulled back into a bun or if it was incredibly short, his fingers made you forget. As he pumped them inside of you for the last time , your lips met his, placing butterfly kisses all over his face, whispering sweet coo’s and “thank you” over and over again as you felt yourself begging undone like an untied ribbon. He watched as your juices squirted into the palm of his hand “ Riiiiiggghhtttt there mama, you’re too sweet beautiful. ” His smile almost made you cum again - it made you realize that maybe all you were looking for was right inside of you… ~♡︎

i feel like this isn’t the best but i’ll get in my groove again, i hoped you liked this n i missed you guys :) ~ 𝓵𝓮𝓵𝓮 <3

[stupidlittlespirit]

glad you’re feeling better!

would you be comfortable sharing a sneak peek of the next chapter 👀

if not I totally understand please prioritize your well being!

Listen, I don't have a chapter sneak peak for you BUT..... because I'm making you all wait so long for this next chapter and I feel bad, I'm gonna give you a small snack.

This is an unpublished thingy that I posted on a little discord server that I'm in and people liked it there so I figured you might enjoy it here. It is just a very short warm-up drabble that I did ages ago and never used again. It's a bit messy and stuff, but whatever. It's set during MtB but it isn't really anything to do with the series. Just a little snippet of life within it:

I Got It Bad (and that ain't good) Rating: NSFW (only slightly) Type: Drabble Tags: Kissing, implied sexual stuff. Very, very tiny inference to muses but meant in no certain way. No pronouns/body described. Word count: 1233

When he's feeling contemplative, Ford likes to play the piano.

He is, like so many other things he turns his attention to, wonderful at it. 

Ford likes jazz. He pretends he's a classical purist but you've found the record sleeves on the shelves near his desk, you’ve done a little snooping, and you know they rarely correspond to the vinyl inside. They're just for show. He plays it mainly in the evenings when he's treating himself to a glass of scotch; he'll listen to a particular artist (this week it's been an awful lot of Duke Ellington) and then recreate it on his own instrument. 

He'll start small. Just a slow, leisurely tinkling of the ivories as he finds his rhythm, and then he'll settle into his groove and flex yet another of his many skills as you listen from another room while you tidy up.

If you're especially lucky, he'll ask you to join him and give him feedback on it. 

He doesn't care about the feedback, of course, because he knows he's good and so does everyone else, and you're sure he's just using it as an opportunity to show off but you never mind. 

He has, in typical Ford fashion, always refuted your accusation: “I assure you, I certainly am not,” he'd said one evening with a knowing smile, as you'd watched from your seat beside him. “I merely know that you like jazz and I play because you listen,” and you'd felt such an intensely affectionate warmth bloom in your chest that you'd dropped the point immediately.

(And when he had added on a quiet: “Plus, I like the way you look at me when I do it,” and you'd made him hit a bum note when you’d leant up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then, well, who can blame you?) 

Your favourite thing to do, beyond simply enjoying the melodies, is to watch his hands and fingers as he works. 

He'd been a little apprehensive at first, once he had noticed, but you had been quick to reassure him that your interest was appreciative, if perhaps salacious, and not even close to judgemental. 

“Would you be uncomfortable if I took a video?” You ask one dark winter's evening, leaning against the piano’s top while you observe him. “Just for myself, I mean.” 

“Whatever for?” Ford responds without missing a beat of his metronome. 

He's going away soon. He and Stan set sail in two days time and it’s a long trip this time, which means for four months, four long, agonising months, you’ll be without him. It’s almost too much to bear and your heart feels like lead at the thought. 

“Because I’m going to miss you and I’d like to have something to remind me of you when I feel like shit,” you say. 

The corner of Ford’s mouth curls upward a fraction and he spares you a thinly veiled, heated glance, his cheeks turning pink. “I thought our plan was to give you plenty of reminders the night before….?” 

Your stomach flutters. 

“I’d like more than bruises, if you wouldn’t mind,” you say, biting down on a smile. 

Ford laughs under his breath and after a moment, says: “And it’s just for you? The video?” 

“Of course,” you reassure him. “I don’t have to, I just…. Your hands are my favourite part of you and I think about them, often.” 

Too often, some might say. 

Ford laughs again, a little louder this time. “Not my dashing good looks?” he teases. “Or my dazzling personality? You wound me, my dear.” 

You grin. “All of the above,” you say with a shrug. “But especially your hands.” 

“Is that so?” Ford says, taking one hand from the keys to pat the empty space beside him. “And what, pray tell, do you think about them?” 

You go where he asks, taking up a seat at his side obediently. “Lots of things.” 

“Such as….?” 

He’s fishing for compliments, you both know it, but does sound genuinely curious, too. 

“I think they’re the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen,” you say, giving him exactly what he wants. “And I think about how they fit in mine. I think about how they feel, how your thumb rubs over my knuckles when we hold hands and how your little finger does the same on the sides, you know, just because you can do that….”

“Anything else?” Ford asks, voice warm. 

You smile, eyes transfixed on the way his fingers tick across the ivory. “And…. I like to think about how you hold my thighs when you have your head between them. The way you hold onto my hips. How your fingers taste when you put them in my mouth.” 

Ford makes a soft sound, somewhere between a contented sigh and an aroused groan, and his hands falter momentarily before he restarts his playing. 

“Is that so?” he says, hoarse. 

“Mm,” you hum absentmindedly. Your head is full of those same thoughts right now, your mind’s eye blurred with the memories of Ford’s fingers climbing underneath your jeans and inching past your underwear. Of touching you so intimately that you have to press your thighs together slightly to sate the longing. 

Ford catches it. 

“You’re thinking about it right now,” he mutters, and his tone holds no question.

He’s stopped playing. His hands are frozen over the keys. 

“Aren’t you?” you answer, eyes still on them. 

Ford exhales slowly through his nose, shaky,  restrained. “I’m always thinking of you,” he says simply. 

You tear your eyes away to look up at him, only to find that his gaze is already on you. 

Ford’s eyes are molten, half-lidded and hot, and they flick down to your mouth and back up to your own. 

“You’re terrible,” he says, in such a way that it’s obvious he means it in the most complimentary context possible. “A terrible, terrible influence on an old man like me.” 

A smirk creeps onto your face. It’s always satisfying to see the effect you have on him. “I can leave, if you’d like me to. I have plenty to do and I-!” 

Ford pushes the stool back with one leg, your combined weights little more than a minor  inconvenience to him, and he hauls you into his lap before you can even finish the thought. 

You laugh, loud and bright, and fling your arms around his neck to hold on tightly to him and avoid sending you both to the floor in a heap. “Or not,” you concede. 

“Never,” agrees Ford, and then he’s kissing you. 

It’s slow and tender and white hot as always. 

You can feel his arousal press between your legs and it’s enough to make you smile against his mouth. 

“What a dirty old man you’ve become,” you say dramatically, nudging your nose against his. 

“I'm only what my muse makes of me,” Ford says raggedly. “And you are an awfully seductive force, you know….” 

“So I've been told,” you smile, one hand wandering below to palm him gently through his slacks. 

Ford groans, low and deep, and tilts his head back. “I'll make a deal with you,” he says quietly. “I swore off them a long time ago but just for you, just this once: if you keep doing that, I'll let you take footage of any fucking thing you like….” 

You grin. 

“Deal.” 

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hello! I don't know if it's ok to ask (but if it's not ,you can forget it) but i really want write about a oc who is actor/singer and i really want to know some vocabulary to use the music/voice/rythm field ,please.

Hi, this is perfectly fine! Learned a lot from these notes as well :)

Writing Notes: Key Musical Terms

Understanding key musical terms is essential for anyone interested in music. Knowing these terms may enhance appreciation and comprehension of the art form.

3 Fundamental Musical Terms

Pitch and Melody: Pitch refers to the highness or lowness of a musical sound. Melody, on the other hand, is a sequence of pitches arranged in a meaningful and cohesive manner. Melodies are the catchy tunes that we hum along to and are often the main focus of a piece of music.

Rhythm and Tempo: Rhythm refers to the pattern of durations and accents in music. It is the element that gives music its groove and pulse. Tempo, on the other hand, refers to the speed at which a piece of music is played. It affects the mood and energy of the music, whether it's fast and lively like allegro music tempo or slow and soothing.

Harmony and Chords: Harmony is the combination of different pitches played simultaneously, creating a rich and full sound. Chords, which are formed by harmonizing notes together, are the building blocks of harmony. They provide the harmonic support and often accompany the melody, adding depth and texture to the music.

By familiarizing yourself with these key musical terms, you will gain a deeper understanding of music and be able to communicate and discuss it more effectively.

TYPES OF MUSICAL TERMS. These terms provide a shared language for musicians and enable them to communicate effectively.

3 Key Categories of Musical Terms

Dynamics and Expression: Dynamics refers to the volume and intensity of a musical piece. Terms such as pianissimo (very soft), mezzo piano (moderately soft), mezzo forte (moderately loud), and fortissimo (very loud) describe the desired dynamics. Expression, on the other hand, focuses on the interpretation and emotional delivery of the music, encompassing terms like legato (smooth and connected) and staccato (short and detached).

Musical Forms and Structures: Musical forms and structures define the organization and arrangement of a composition. Common forms include sonata, symphony, concerto, and fugue. Each form possesses distinct characteristics, allowing composers to create cohesive and engaging musical works.

Instrumentation and Orchestration: Instrumentation refers to the selection and arrangement of instruments in a musical composition. Understanding the unique qualities of each instrument helps composers and performers achieve the desired sound and texture. Orchestration, on the other hand, involves assigning specific musical parts to different instruments within an orchestra.

Musical Terms in Practice

When reading sheet music, understanding musical terms is crucial for accurately interpreting the piece. Musical terms provide instructions on how to play the music, indicating dynamics, tempo, articulation, and more.

To interpret musical terms in sheet music, start by familiarizing yourself with the most common terms. For example:

'Piano' indicates soft playing, while

'Forte' means loud.

'Allegro' signifies a fast tempo, while

'Adagio' represents a slow tempo.

By recognizing these terms, you can bring the intended expression and emotion to your writing.

Using musical terms in performance enhances the overall musical experience. It allows musicians to communicate and synchronize their playing, creating a cohesive and expressive performance.

When musicians follow the indicated musical terms, the piece comes alive, capturing the composer's vision.

Furthermore, exploring the cultural significance of musical terms adds depth and context to the music. Musical terms often have historical and cultural origins, reflecting the traditions and practices of different periods and regions.

Understanding the cultural background of musical terms can provide insights into the composer's intentions and the historical context in which the piece was created.

VOICE. May be arranged in 6 orders or classes, according to gravity or acuteness.

Bass

Baritone

Tenor

Alto (or Contralto)

Mezzo-soprano

Soprano

The first 3 are the natural voices of men and the second 3 those of women.

The compass or range of notes is different in each voice, but it is not compass alone which determines the class to which any voice may belong, as very frequently a baritone quality of voice is limited to the range of a bass, and a tenor quality to the compass of a baritone.

It is almost impossible to describe in words the general character of the several voices, it must be sufficient to give the number of notes they are capable of using.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Describe Sounds ⚜ References ⚜ 100 Sensory Words

Hope this helps with your writing!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi, can I be called anon 🐍? (reference to Jamil being my favorite character) Now that the dorm songs are out in full version, what is your ranking of them? Personally, my favorite is Diasomnia's, I'm completely obsessed with Malleus' voice in the chorus, it feels like I've ascended. And the one that would be in last place would be Ignihyde's, it's not that I didn't like it, but among the others it's my least favorite.

[My original rankings based on the short in-game Rhythmics/Twistunes segments!]

To the first ask: Sure, 🐍 Anon it is ^^

I ranked the songs differently based on three different categories: how the song sounds to my ear, how much I like the lyrics, and how much I enjoyed the MV that came with the song. The category actually changes my opinion quite a lot in some cases!

Ranking (based on how the song sounds):

Savanaclaw's DIADEM - All the characters' vocals sound very different yet somehow when they overlap... they sound really cool! The chorus + the ending "whoa-oh-oh-oh" parts in particular are super catchy; I find myself randomly humming them throughout the day. I definitely get the sense that Jack and Ruggie are the less experienced singers, but that ironically fits both of their characters; it feels like they're underdogs trying their best to beat impossible odds... that they're here anyway to try just to support their dorm leader (whose VA is for sure the most experienced singer of the group). Leona sounds NOTHING like himself when he sings (which is fair, because it would be super hard to keep that deepness while singing) so :)) I can dissociate and lie to myself tell myself that I'm not stanning his song. By the way, massive shoutout to Jack's VA 😭 He apparently tried so hard to sing deep for this song that it caused vocal strain and bleeding 💦

Scarabia's Far-Out - A lot is happening in this song, but I feel they all work well together. Jamil and Kalim's voices surprisingly harmonize amazingly and create a hypnotic melody despite how upbeat the actual music is. Another song where the chorus is very strong... Love the "La-la i-ya la-la i-ya ha" parts. It feels like everything is in constant motion (even when there are parts with no vocals) and I want to move along with them!

Ignihyde's Unparalleled Aeons - An almost metronome-like melody. Sounds like something you can really groove to. Chorus is great; I love the way certain words like "Cerberus", "Happy End", "Fever", "The End", etc. are uttered and how the chorus builds up to a soft (not loud) "Welcome to the Underworld".

Heartslabyul's Obedience - Instrumental is hype (it's probably the drums)!! Riddle is clearly the star here; the other vocals sort of blend together or sound alike to me (except for maybe Ace, only because his VA sings so sassily). Pretty much the only part that plays on repeat is the chorus.

Octavinelle's Entanglement - I appreciate the piano and brass but... SORRY, I JUST GENERALLY DON'T LIKE JAZZ. If it was just the instrumental, it would be fine but I don't like this genre with vocals. I like that Jade is very prominent in this song, but then that creates an issue where he and Azul are so much stronger here than Floyd is. In some parts, I feel like Floyd is almost completely drowned out by the music.

Pomefiore's La Volonté - I feel the singing starts up really abruptly??? Best parts of the song are the solos. When the Pomefiore boys' voices combine, they sound a little too harsh to my ears. Not sure if I like how their words are pulled out/extended in the chorus either. Songs ends on a good note (the "La-la-la-la-la").

Diasomnia's Capricious Calamity - Similar to Heartslabyul's Obedience, the dorm leader is the star of the show and has the most prominent voice. You can really feel Malleus's VA (I believe he has formal opera training) showing off his chops. I really liked Silver and Sebek's solo parts. However, I just don't like the overall vibes of this song. The haunting chanting in the background, the strong reverb, the grim instrumental, the dark tone of the singing... It's all a bit too much. I personally prefer more energetic songs, not ones that remind me of a cult initiation ceremony.

Ranking (based on the lyrics):

Scarabia's Far-Out - Holy... where do I even begin??? These are by far the most descriptive and lush lyrics of the bunch. They come out strong in the beginning talking about how the rays of the sun sting, how particles of scalding sands hit their skin, temptation in lotus flowers, the intoxicating feeling of thirst, etc. At one point, they also list off key characters from the film (the sultan, royal vizier, thief/street rat, princess, genie, monkey). AND THEN IN COMES THE CHORUS talking about an endless oasis, riches that never dry up, the "golden darkness"???? HELLO???????

Diasomnia's Capricious Calamity - Also extremely poetic, but in a more ominous way than Scarabia's song. A pure black starless night, ravishing green light, a sky the color of shadow, spreading thorns, a deep slumber, an aurora swallowed... Sooo many good phrases here, I felt like I was listening to a group of bards telling an ancient folktale. Bonus points to this song for using language so archaic that even native Japanese speakers struggled to understand what the heck was even being sung.

Pomefiore's La Volonté - Surprisingly less detailed lyrics than Scarabia and Diasomnia, but they still have a few notable phrases like "waltzing upon the white snow", the worth of a star, a heart hidden in a box, and, of course, the iconic apple dripping with poison. Not as much a fan of the parts where the singer is centered and they express their personal goals.

Ignihyde's Unparalleled Aeons - This is the song I jokingly call "shittalking central" because I swear that half the lyrics or more is just angry gamer internet lingo. Even with all the taunting, I think there's a charm to the lyrics. I especially love how they make constant references to Greek mythology, especially the Fates (they mention past, present, and future, as well as cutting threads).

Octavinelle's Entanglement - Sometimes these feel less like lyrics and more like Azul and the Tweels giving you explicit directions to just sign the darn contract already sometimes. Some lines are literally just them threatening you about the consequences if you break the terms of the agreement. I do like the poetic parts (where they sing about the heart swaying left and right + the future dissipating into seafoam) though.

Heartslabyul's Obedience - Most of the lyrics are just the characters reciting rules, talking about tasks they have to do, or how they can't step out of line or break rules. There’s some strange fragments too???? Like the part where Ace sings about lemonade that’s not sweetened with honey but then never continues to complete the rule; he just states LEMONADE WITHOUT HONEY and nothing else 😭 My guy, that is NOT a real statement???The chorus is the most memorable part, as it focuses on the beauty of roses that have been painted red. Not much character in the rest of the lyrics.

Savanaclaw's DIADEM - This song is mostly about the actions the group will take to reach the top and less about pretty descriptions. While I think that this matches the spirit of their dorm and the characters themselves, I'm not personally a fan of these kind of lyrics.

Ranking (based on MVs' visuals and effects):

Scarabia's Far-Out - Maybe not the best MV for those that get motion sickness easily because WOW, there is constant movement here, even if it is very slight (clouds moving in the background, flower petals scattering, flag flapping, ornate patterns spinning, silhouettes panning, letters flying, etc.). I loved it though! There was also so much opulence in this MV??? Golden snake scepter, golden coins, golden magic lamp, golden sunshine, golden sand, golden scarabs, golden hourglass... All incorporated so well and timed perfectly with the lyrics. So many film references too?? I spotted Iago's feather, the big red gem that Abu touched in the Cave of Wonders, and so many more. I think the best part was that Kalim and Jamil were framed so perfectly, particularly the shots where Jamil was positioned behind Kalim (Jamil in the dark, Kalim in the light) WITH THEIR EYES GLOWING RED, alluding to how Jamil controlled Kalim with Snake Whisper/Charmer from the shadows. This is PEAK MV.

Octavinelle's Entanglement - This one was just really elegant! The solo parts' backgrounds remind me of a fancy hotel or a well-organized scrapbook. The bubbles + underwater effect with fish swimming over the Octa boys was so cool. Like Scarabia's MV, this one had many references to their film, such as Azul being bathed in green while the sun sets in the background (illustrating the conditions for Ursula's deal with Ariel), the fireworks in the sky (like the ones going off when Ariel saw Eric for the first time), King Triton's crown and trident sinking into the depths, the iconic golden contracts, the ingredient bottles (Ursula's), the cauldron and fish skeleton pen (also Ursula's)... Azul's vault (the steering wheel of a ship) also features. So many details! This is another MV where the flowing eyes make sense; the twins' golden eyes glow in the dark, and both of Azul's do as well (since he also lives deep in the waters). It creates a neat and symmetrical look when they pose together.

Diasomnia's Capricious Calamity - One word: ATMOSPHERE. This MV has tons of it. The way the camera pulls in and out of a tangle of tree branches and briar makes you feel like you're adventuring into a decrepit castle. There's many interesting things done with light and shadows to grant an excellent illusion of depth. Definitely gives an intimidating vibe when the moon drowns out everything but the Diasomnia boys' eyes. The green light from above makes me feel like some otherworldly eldritch being is descending. The best part of the MV is the middle which shows the same green light Maleficent used to lure Aurora to a spinning wheel. Again, very atmospheric and this is further enhanced by the choir in the background building up to the sinister shine of the spindle. I feel like I'm watching a horror story or a gothic fairy tale unfold.

Savanaclaw's DIADEM - This one has a really unique look to it! The ripped paper effect and the way the graphics fall into place kind of gives it the look of a grungy collage. I love how the Savanaclaw boys are often backlit by the sun; it makes them look really imposing and cool! There's fewer film references here (the moon _ hyena march from Be Prepared, Pride Rock) but it works just fine. I appreciate the focus on nature here, there's a lot of shots of real-life animals or just the savanna setting. I will say that the giraffes made me laugh because they seemed like an odd choice to include??? It's an herbivore moving slowly through the frame, it feels out of place in a rock song. Another part that I didn't necessarily love was when the camera zoomed in on each of the Savanaclaw boys' faces... It was so fast that I thought that they were going to smack into an invisible wall or something.

Pomefiore's La Volonté - This has a lot of imagery I expected of Pomefiore--painting frames, mirrors, apples, poison bottles, etc. Oddly feels very minimalistic and not too showy compared to the other MVs. I think this works well for what it seems to be conveying (how lonely it is at the top, indicated by the spotlights for the solo parts). The multitude of hands reaching for the single star is a very strong visual. Snow effect was so subtle I would not have known it was snow, had the lyrics not clued me in on it. Vulture was a strange choice to include; I feel it should have been a raven or crow instead since that’s more iconic. The best parts (mirror cracking, pages in potion book turning, curtains closing shut) were scarcely used and I wished they were scattered more throughout the MV instead of clustered in one spot.

Ignihyde's Unparalleled Aeons - This felt like an Ignihyde MV and not an Ignihyde and Hercules MV, unlike the MVs that ranked higher than this. I like the shift from blue to red lights + flames in some parts to indicate seriousness or danger, but most everything else felt like excessive neon lighting like what you’d see in a crowd armed with glowsticks at a concert. The gate to the Underworld opening and the pool of souls was cool but the other key visuals (S.T.Y.X. logo, turning gears, cutting a thread of life, etc.) felt like they were hurriedly pasted into the background to remind us this is, in fact, not just another Vocaloid hit—remember the Shrouds are here too. Visuals (especially the artwork of Idia and Ortho) felt weirdly static.

Heartslabyul's Obedience - As an avid Alice in Wonderland lover, I have to say that I'm disappointed at how generic the Heartslabyul MV was. It didn't look bad or anything?? I was just expecting a lot more than the generic AiW motifs (checkerboard pattern, card suits, raining cards, table for tea, etc.). This one especially stands out (in a bad way) to me because the other MVs made an effort to make the visuals unique to the identity of the dorm (like the S.T.Y.X. symbol in Ignihyde's) or make reference to their respective film, but this one did not.

[tiredfox64]

Can I request the MK1 Earthrealm Champions with a fem!rockstar reader? Like when they meet her for the first time at one of her shows in some underground venue or when she’s rehearsing at soundcheck before a show?

(If you need songs for her to perform, may I recommend Kaia Jette’s music, she has songs like Medusa, Star Maiden, Hellfire, Immortal, Lovesick Idiot or you can choose songs yourself…)

Do You Wanna Love My Rock N Roll?

Yip notes: Joan Jett. Gotta be Joan Jett. I've been to a concert of hers two summers ago. She looks good for her age.

Pairings: Earthrealm Champions x Rockstar! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Gave up proofreading, sorry

You have made a name for yourself. Baby, you’re a star! A rockstar that is. A rockstar who has starstruck people from across the world. Many kinds of people want to meet you. Farmers, monks, actors, ex yakuza members…

Alright, there’s more than that but in short, you have captured the eyes of a special group of men. Earthrealms champions to be exact.

Johnny was the one to introduce your music to them all. They were curious since he would blast it whenever he could. In the shower, while getting ready in the morning, during training, whenever really. It disturbed the peace at the Wu Shi Academy but he couldn’t help himself. You were just so amazing and the energy you were blasting out got him going. It even got him singing which was when everyone told him to stop.

Nonetheless, it captured the attention of the others and soon they were grooving to it as well. Kenshi would begin to whisper the lyrics under his breath without even thinking. Raiden would hum the melody while getting ready for the day. Kung Lao would straight up steal Johnny’s phone so he could listen to your music for himself. That was the moment Johnny knew he got them hooked.

They were even more hooked once he showed pictures of you and your band. Wow! You were so cool looking. Tons of pictures with your hair looking loud and wild. Your makeup matched your hair well, especially your eyeliner which made your eyes pop out. Leather and jeans were a wonderful combo for you. Your neck was decorated with chokers and necklaces that looked like chains. Not only was your voice awesome but you in general were awesome.

In a way, you helped them train more. Your music helped pump them up and made them train better. It was a bonding experience for them. It allowed moments where Kenshi and Johnny could put their differences aside. It made them grow closer. Even after the incident with the tournament and other realm bs they still found joy when listening to your music together.

So when Johnny invited them to come to California to see you perform they took their chances. Kung Lao and Raiden did have to beg Liu Kang to let them go though. It was all gonna be worth it! Seeing you in person will be a dream come true for them.

“I can’t believe we are going to see her in person,” Raiden had excitement present in his voice. If his amulet was with him he’d be sparking up like faulty wiring.

“But did we really have to leave your mansion early?” Kenshi asked Johnny.

“Hey! You guys want to see her, right? We have to be early to get a chance to be upfront for her performance. This isn’t a professional concert; this is one of those underground performances that only certain people know about.”

Of course Johnny would know about all your performances. From the big stage ones to the small venues that give people the chance to wreck shit, he’ll know what you’re up to. And he knows he has to be quick to be early to get good spots. Being early and being famous worked in his favor. The moment the security guards saw Johnny they had someone who works at the venue to go tell you. You wouldn’t believe your ears when you heard that Johnny Cage showed up. You had to see it for yourself.

You were still doing a soundcheck and some warm-ups when they arrived. You had to make sure the speakers could handle your music and for the hundredth time, yes, the drummer has their stick bag. You’re preaching to the choir at this point. Lo and behold the actor himself and his friends came walking through the door. You’re a lucky woman to be in the presence of great men.

“Well fuck me! It’s true. Johnny Cage in the flesh.”

You jumped off the stage, your boots making a loud thud once you hit the ground. You looked at the men before you. You’re already starting to like them based on their appearances and the vibes they give off. It’s different from what you expect your fans to look like but that’s not bad at all. You got closer to Johnny so you could get a good look at him. If he weren’t wearing his sunglasses you would see how his eyes widen in excitement.

“I need your good music. I’d die without good music.” Johnny thinks he’s slick for making a reference to one of your songs. “Oh yeah, these are some of my friends. This is Kenshi, Kung Lao, and Raiden.”

The first one you approached was Kung Lao. Immediately you surprised him by running your hands over the shaved sides of his head. Your hand soon went to the back to twirl his small ponytail with your finger.

“I love your hair. I might try this for myself.” You complimented him.

You weren’t looking at his face but this man was stunned. His mouth was open in a joyful smile as his eyes turned towards Johnny. In his mind, he was thanking Johnny for blasting your music every night even though it disturbed his rest. Then you turned your attention towards Raiden. The part of your brain that activates when you see something cute is activated from the sight of his face.

“Aw, look at that baby face. You can’t be a fan of mine, not with that face.” You teased him as you squeezed his cheeks with your hands.

His cheeks started warming up from embarrassment and flattery. No one’s ever described him as having a baby face which is embarrassing. But being touched by your soft hands made this moment worth it. Next was Kenshi. His tattoos caught your eye with how colorful they were and how the art form seemed foreign. You noticed the blindfold over his eyes and weren’t sure if that was a style choice or if it had another purpose. Whatever it was you weren’t sure if it was okay to touch him. That’s until he held his hand towards you, letting you know it was alright. Once you took his hand into yours, your other hand went up and began tracing over the linework of his tattoos.

“I’m digging the tattoos. Might need your tattoo artist’s number.” You joked.

“You don’t want the tattoo artist I have, trust me.” He joked back but his words were true. You didn’t know.

“Well, I sure hope I don’t mess up tonight. I got a good group of men watching me.” Not that you ever messed up before.

“I doubt you will. You’re too amazing to mess up. Plus I need you to give a good performance so I could stream it to my fans.” Thanks, Johnny, no pressure there.

You told them to hang around outside the venue for a bit since you were still getting ready. There was still a good hour before they would truly let people in. They waved to you goodbye, sometimes taking multiple glances at you, before finally leaving.

“They seemed pretty cute.” You hinted at your bandmates.

“Planned orgy?” Your drummer asked. She was dead serious you could see it in her eyes and hear it in her tone.

“What? No, what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“It’s a valid question!”

The venue got packed quickly once the doors opened. Of course, your little group of fighters were front and center. It’s the best spot. They get a clear view of you and their eardrums don’t get busted from the speakers. Kenshi doesn’t need to be blind and deaf. Sento could only do so much for him. With them being in front of you, you took that as an opportunity to play around with them. That’s the fun of being a star. You get to interact with your fans in whatever way you want, if it’s legal of course. The interactions you will have with them will stay in their minds forever.

Your first victim- I mean fan, was Raiden. You were eyeing him the whole time while you sang. The song was good but he did feel a little embarrassed that you were staring at him while yelling “do you wanna touch” in your mic. But you made his head snap up to look at you when you walked up close and rested your right foot on his shoulder. You were gentle while doing it, not putting your whole weight on the poor man.

He stared up at you in awe. His heart was beating as hard as the bass drum. The spotlights shined bright behind you and you were like a demonic angel looking down on him. You had to get back to your other fans so you went him off with a very light kick before walking off. Kung Lao had to catch his friend who stumbled a little.

“What happened?” Raiden asked as if he were in a daze.

It made Kung Lao laugh at how ridiculous Raiden was acting. But his time would be soon.

Your next song was very screechy and chaotic. You were letting the world know of your wild spirit. Kung Lao was loving that. The energy got to him and he developed an appreciation for the electric guitar with how awesome it sounded. And to think he found electronic instruments to have no soul.

The end of the song was coming up and he was jamming out to it. That’s when you started slowly walking towards him. He didn’t notice at first until you dropped down on your knees in front of him. You grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him in before yelling “Have ya, grab ya, til you’re sore!” right into his face. You had a satisfied smile on your face once you saw the utter shock in his eyes as you let him go. Luckily, Raiden was there to catch him and mock him for acting up as well. You got right back on your feet and continued until there was only pounding from the drums.

Now comes the time you like to jump down and walk through the crowd as you continue to sing. Your fans know not to touch you but to expect you to possible touch them. Raiden and Kung Lao already got their fixings, it’s Kenshi’s moment now. The chorus at the end was coming up and you thought why not give him a surprise. You tried to sneak up behind him thinking he couldn’t actually sense you but you were dead wrong. Though he didn’t turn around, he wanted you to believe you were being sneaky.

Your arm wrapped around his broad shoulders as you continued to sing. The part where your bassist and guitarist drop out and allow you to sing by yourself was coming up. When that moment came up Kenshi decided to turn his neck toward you and sing “I hate myself for loving you” with you. Well, he kind of sang, more like saying the lyrics as you sang them. You smiled proudly before pulling away from him. There was a slight smirk on his face which amazed the rest of the group. At least Kenshi kept his cool with you.

The end of the show was coming up and you did give your attention to Johnny. You didn’t forget him, not while he was shoving his phone towards you. You were saving the best for last. This song was the biggest I don’t fucking care message in the world. With the shit that Johnny pulls sometimes this song works out for him. That’s why he’s your target for the end of the night. At some point you walked up to him and shoved your face into the camera while singing. Gotta give his followers a great show and a good look at your lipstick. What is that, coral blue #2?

Then you decided to mess with him by taking his phone from him. It was like taunting an animal to come get you. You wanted him to jump on stage and he obeyed. He jumped up and took his phone from you, finding your efforts to be funny. You were making this man’s night with how close you were getting to him. Wrapping your arm around his neck, squishing your face against his, gosh it was magical.

But the show must come to an end. All good things come to an end. You kicked Johnny off the stage, not literally, and took a bow with your bandmates. A wonderful performance as always.

The boys were hyped up like kids during a sugar rush. All the way back to Johnny’s mansion they never stopped talking about you and the interactions they had with you. They joked, they laughed, they teased, they enjoyed. What better way to end the night than with a little surprise in the back of Johnny’s pocket.

As he went to grab his keys to his mansion he felt something else in his pocket. When he pulled it out it was a note that he didn’t remember having. When he opened up all their eyes lit up, except for Kenshi’s of course. It read:

Here’s my number:----------

Make sure to share it with your buddies! ;)

Yap notes: I'm so sorry for not posting. I got horrible writer's block and the lasagna put me in a coma. It was too good. Also I just found out my professor for my anthropology class is in Madagascar. LIKE WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE NOT EVEN IN THE STATES! CHECK YOUR EMAILS! Adiós!

[gluion]

[teaser] missing home — kim gyuvin

kim gyuvin x reader

PART OF THE BOOK OF US SERIES wc — 0.8k, full fic expected to be 15-20k (target publishing date around mid-late november) genre & warnings — strangers to lovers to exes to lovers, fluff, angst, crack, small town au, high school then college au, eumppappa is major character, familial issues, pov switching, gyuvin just wants to learn how to plays drums & reader just wants to stay at the animal shelter, minor character death playlist/inspired by — “i smile” by day6 notes — i needed people to be excited with me okay </3

want to be part of the series taglist? fill out the form! masterlist

synopsis — when kim gyuvin is forced to volunteer at an animal shelter, the last thing he expects is to be compared to a rescued dog. (and to fall in love with you.)

the last thing gyuvin expects to receive from his mom is a volunteer recruitment flyer, especially one from an animal shelter. he doesn’t know why she has one. the household never had animals, limiting his interactions to ones with his cousin’s pet every visit. yet, in his hands is a piece of paper with the words, volunteers needed, written in bold and uppercase.

“mom, i don’t understand why you’re asking me to volunteer.” gyuvin complains as he leans on the wooden dining table. his fingers trace against the grooves as he watches his mom in the kitchen. 

the smell of freshly cut cabbage and kimchi paste lingers in the air. despite the noisy fan, a familiar trot record plays from the living room. as his mom sways to the melody, she coats each leaf with a spicy paste. during these moments, she never pays attention to what gyuvin has to say. the kitchen feels like her own bubble, where she’s able to enjoy the feel of a wooden spatula in her hand and taste every dish.

“mom.”

“what?” she doesn’t spare him a glance.

gyuvin sighs before looking at the flyer once more. “why are you making me volunteer?”

“it’s good, honest work. plus, it deals with animals. don’t you like playing with your cousin’s cat?” she sets the cabbage away in a container.

“i do, but i don’t understand why that means i should volunteer at an animal shelter.”

she looks at him before saying, “because i’d rather you to do something useful with your time than waste the weekends.”

he frowns at her accusations. “but mom, i study! and if i’m not studying, i’m resting.”

she scoffs at his words. “don’t be silly. on the weekends, you’re making all that noise in your room! i can’t rest.”

gyuvin hates whenever she said that. after all, where could he learn how to play the drums if not at the comfort of his room? although he might not have a real drum kit, resorting to cardboard boxes and metal lids, he truly believed he was getting the hang of playing drums. (even if it may not sound as great as a legitimate drum kit.)

“anyway, it’s final. you’re going to that animal shelter. today.”

“today?!” he springs up from the seat.

she hums before shutting the container close. “yes. i can’t stand all that metal clashing anymore. you’re making it hard to listen to the vinyl player.”

“but—”

“i mean it.” with a final, stern look from her, gyuvin finds himself defeated. if he argues any more, he’d only face even worse consequences.

gyuvin leaves with the crumpled flyer in his hand.

the animal shelter has become a staple in the small, quiet town by the bay. life seems to thrive, where barks overpower the waves that crash against rocks.

although gyuvin has never thought about adopting a pet, he thinks of himself as a frequent visitor to the shelter. given that it’s on the route going to school, it’s hard to miss the windows that display all the pets who chew on toys and bathe in the sunlight. he always waves at them before going on with his day with a smile.

yet, he stands in front of the building with sunken shoulders.

with a sigh, he swings the door open. there’s a series of barks that boom at his appearance, where cages rattle against walls. in the short silence, he hears a soft melody playing from the back. he walks on animal fur until he reaches the front desk. while there isn’t a bell for him to ring, he hopes the howls are enough to signal his presence, hoping for someone to come.

but what gyuvin doesn’t expect is for a dog to come running his way. they leap onto him, causing him to wrap his arms around the pet. as the canine wiggles in his arms, his heart races over fear.

maybe gyuvin isn’t the best with pets. after all, he only watched his cousin whenever she’d bathe her cat. gyuvin thinks these creatures are fragile, that even a meter drop could result in broken legs. “yah! yah! don’t fall!” he says as the canine continues to thrash around.

“eumppappa!”

and somehow, his heart drops as the dog leaps off. he shuts his eyes close, scared to hear their whimpering, only to the pitter-patter of paws against the floor. he watches the dog walk to the back of the building with their tail wagging.

“come here, you silly girl!” you come out with the same grey dog in your arms.

what gyuvin expects to be asked is about his visit to the shelter. he’s ready to pull out the flyer, his hand fishing for the crumpled paper in his pocket, only to hear a giggle escape you.

“wait a minute.” you glance between him and the dog in your arms, only for another laugh to leave you. “you look like eumppappa!”

gyuvin frowns. “i’m sorry?”

“look!” you raise the dog close to his face, allowing yourself to see a side-by-side comparison of him and the canine. “you look just like her!”

somehow, his mom giving him a flyer from the animal shelter isn’t the weirdest event to come out from today; the last thing he expected is to be compared to a rescue dog—especially from an animal caretaker.

networks taglist: @kflixnet @k-labels @blankjournal @zumblrnet @kstrucknet

series taglist: @slytherinshua @headhooner @dwcljh @acaciacore @m0rkfangirl

@zzurao @sseastar-main @blooqz @taylorluvation

zb1 permanent taglist: @deinsleeps @sofix-hc7

[swampstew]

KillerCam

The internet is a filthy, degenerative place. And it just got a whole lot dirtier. Unleashing a Massacre Soldier on the civilian population. Casualty count anticipated: 69K Nice.

A collaboration project between @icy-spicy and @swampstew - coming soon

Minors DNI

Slow jazz played in the background, enhancing the erotic atmosphere on camera. In the frame stood a king-sized bed upon a metalwork frame with a side table in the same style. The headboard was wiry and featured several cuffs dangling from the various metal network, and the edges were adorned with long, spindly posts that stood at least seven feet tall; each post had large rings dangling from the bases.

On the blue silky sheets were an array of products. Lubricant, anal plugs, egg vibrators, a whip, and masks. A small card was whipped through the room and landed on the bedsheets. The camera focus zoomed to capture the decorative card.

KillerCam. Call XXX-XXX-XXXX for a good time.

A figure came into focus as the camera angle was adjusted. A mane of blonde locks covered the screen, getting pulled back into a pony tail. Behind the hair, bulging muscles that gleamed under the seductive lighting.

Carved muscles rippled down his neck and back, from his arms to his calves. So marbled, contrasted with gold hair that glowed like gold coins upon the grooves of his limbs and joints. One would be forgiven if they didn’t realized at first that the man before them was wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else.

The teasing cheeks behind the pants taunted viewers as the man walked towards the bed, turning to face his audience as he sprawled down in a lewd pose. One that did nothing to hide the contours of his cock as it strained against the shorts.

“Welcome,” a throaty purr came from behind the man’s helmet. “You know who I am. You know why you’re here. And you know what today is…” his voice teased.

With the snap of his deft fingers, the man pulled the seam on the side and the fabric tore away like tissue paper. Freeing his cock and balls as they nestled against the satin sheet he laid on.

Suddenly, ringing in the background cut through the jazz. He didn’t even turn, despite the glowing red light indicator that was flashing behind him.

“What are you waiting for?” the blonde mocked, “I can’t cum until you wish me a happy birthday.”

A new melody began playing in the background. A person.

Moaning.

Screaming.

“KILLER”

[skeletoncrevvs]

crossbeat magazine, aug 2007

translation/transcription under cut

Crossbeat - AUG 2007 - TRANSLATION

PAGE 30-31 (excluding cover and contents page):

Special feature on rock legends coming to Japan

MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE

AKIRA, Tekkonkinkreet, Lupin III  - "I'm attracted to works that are innovative and take on new challenges. I love them. I can't stop thinking about them."

Welcome to MCR Theatre @Budokan!! A drama of destruction and rebirth explodes in a spectacular live performance!! Japan and Manga

Interview by Takuro Ueno, interpreter: Tomoko Katsuta

We take a look at Gerard's true personality and the band's latest vision as a huge fan of the band.

Pics: Tetsuro Sato

PAGE 32:

The explosion of "Dead!", the confetti of "Welcome to the Black Parade", the flames of "Mama", the fireworks of "Disenchanted", the explosion of "Famous Last Words"! My Chemical Romance's Budokan live show was a spectacular entertainment show with plenty of gunpowder and pyro. The first half was a live performance of the album in which they dressed up as the band The Black Parade, the alter-ego of "The Black Parade", and the second half was a performance of other songs. The set was almost the same as the US tour in the spring, and the live started with "The End", in which frontman Gerard Way appeared as a patient in a white coat.

What impressed me was not only the dramatic songs that quickly became anthems, but also the presence of songs that could be called excellent supporting actors that supported the main characters. The combination of explosive guitar and beats in "This Is How I Disappear" created a sense of intense speed. In the second half, Frank Iero (G) and Ray Toro (G) strummed their guitars with complete concentration in the raging ensemble. The heavy melody gradually changed its expression, and I was also excited by "Sleep," which had a cathartic surge along with a heavyweight groove.

Bob Bryar's (Dr) powerful drumming also really came into play in this kind of song. And what was most impressive was the glimpse of Gerard's "madness" for a short time. 

There's a fine line between madness and sanity. In his sane mode, he's a geek who loves comics and games with all his heart, while in his dangerous mad mode, he explodes with emotion on stage. I think that the album "The Black Parade" is somewhere between the two, and for those wanderers whose egos tend to become unstable because of their wandering, Gerard's message is absolutely real. What I thought after seeing this live performance was that "The Black Parade" is a work that reflects the current era, and it has an immeasurable appeal to stubborn adults.

After performing the album that they had pushed themselves to the limit and creating in a lavish manner on the Budokan stage, Gerard and the other four members shed their heavy costumes and appeared in casual clothes. Behind them was a backdrop with the word "REVENGE" written in large letters, and when the life-sized My Chemical Romance performed "I'm Not Okay" and "Helena," the audience responded with a chorus of their own. Unlike the first half, there was only one flashy performance using gunpowder, and there was no confetti raining down on the audience or flames rising up. At the end, the people who stood on stage were not emo charisma, but young music-loving men who grew up in the New Jersey punk scene.

On this day, Frank joined the stage of the opening act, the melodic punk band Bouncing Souls from his hometown. Gerard asked the fans several times during his performance to give them loud cheers and applause. If you think about it objectively, you can see that Gerard's jumps and fist pumps are not cool, but I think that the attitude of "it's okay to be uncool!" is punk, and such objective opinions are not necessary for My Chemical Romance. Their performance, which was full volume and full force from start to finish, was unmistakably punk, and it is because of this blood that they are somehow hard to hate, even when viewed as a new-age rock band. My Chemical Romance, who graces the front page of this special feature on rock legends visiting Japan, have written another page in rock history with their live performance at the Budokan, but in this interview we also get a glimpse into the true face of Gerard, who loves Japan. He loves Japanese manga and anime, and when he came to Japan last time

Pic: Yuki Kuroyanagi

PAGE 33:

he even went to the cinema. When I explained the purpose of the photo on the front page, he cheerfully agreed to a two-shot with Mario, a character representing Japan.

----What kind of image did you have of Japan before?

"I was imagining the world of Ridley Scott's film, 'The Blade Runner.' I'm also a big fan of comics and Katsuhiro Otomo's work. I especially love 'AKIRA,' so I thought it would be something like the opening scene of that story, and I think that image was correct. But I ended up loving this country even more than I had imagined. I had no idea that Japanese people were people who respected others and their environment so much, and it was refreshing to be able to come into contact with such people and have such a variety of experiences before returning to America."

----You've toured to quite a few countries, but your first visit to Japan was in 2004. What were your impressions at the time?

"I feel like I've landed on Mars. And I mean that in a good way. It's completely different from any other place I've ever been to. The cityscape, the culture, everything I could see was different from any other country. I've had the chance to tour many countries, but when I went there, I was disappointed to see that there were many similarities to America, or even the same things. But Japan is original and amazing. I was fascinated by everything, from vending machines to key chains to TVs. I don't understand what they're saying when I watch TV, but there's a lot to absorb. I'm always looking for something to stimulate me, so this country is perfect for me."

----Your first live show was on the indoor stage at Summer Sonic. How did you feel about the audience's reaction? They were really excited about songs like "I'm Not Okay."

"It was amazing! I'm so glad to get such a reaction.

I never dreamed that we would get such a good response to "I'm Not Okay" in a country we visit for the first time. But it was especially special to have such a good response in Japan. The first time we played in the UK was on tour with The Used. We have a following in the UK now, but the kids who saw our show back then seemed confused about how to respond to our music. I think they liked it, but the reaction was surprisingly calm. After that, we played in a small club in Germany, and it was a big hit. Then we came to Japan and the crowd was so excited, right? It was amazing that we were able to play in front of such a large audience, but when we played "I'm Not Okay," it was even more amazing.

----After that, you did a solo tour in Japan. What is the most memorable episode from your live shows in Japan so far?

"Well... they're all great... let me think about it... there's just so much fun to be had in Japan. The last time I played at Summer Sonic (in 2006) was memorable, the day I was on the outdoor stage in front of Linkin Park. It was a big victory to be able to play at Summer Sonic again, because it was my second time playing at a stadium. At the first Summer Sonic, I was battling drugs and alcohol. So it was impressive to come back and play on that big stage and do a show in front of thousands of people. I remember being able to show a great performance."

----When you visited Japan in January this year, you apparently went to see the film "Tekkonkinkreet."

Pic: Tetsuro Sato

PAGE 34:

I love Japanese. I love the sound of it. I think it's a beautiful language. And it's especially beautiful when people are angry. Japanese is at its best when they're angry (laughs). [top quote]

"It was amazing, but unfortunately it hasn't been released in the US yet. I think it will be a hot topic because the drawing style and the content are very different from what people think of when they think of anime. It was my first time going to a Japanese movie theater. You choose your seat and sit there. And everyone was quiet. I don't know if the movie was boring or if people in Japan watch movies quietly, but everyone stayed seated until the end credits, so it seemed like they liked the movie. But the only one who was laughing was my friend who went with me. It was kind of awkward. I didn't understand the language, so maybe I was laughing at scenes I shouldn't have laughed at? No, I think I laughed at scenes I should have laughed at, but everyone was quiet, so after laughing a few times, I decided to watch quietly (laughs)."

----(laughs) What other Japanese manga and anime do you like?

"I like all the works of Matsumoto Taiyo, the writer of ‘Tekkonkinkreet,’ and I respect Otomo Katsuhiro, who I think is a genius. I also like Tezuka Osamu, the godfather of this world, who wrote ‘Astro Boy.’ I also like ‘Lupin III’ and ‘Science Ninja Team Gatchaman.’ I'm always discovering new things from Japanese creators, and they often surprise me. I'm attracted to works that are innovative and try new things. I'm not interested in anime where giant robots fight other robots. It's just a melodrama with big robots in it."

----After graduating from art school, you worked as an animator for a while.

"I was working on a cartoon called "Sheep in the Big City" (a TV series that aired on the American cable TV channel Cartoon Network). It was completely different from Japanese animation, and the creator, Mo Willems (a popular animation artist known for his picture books such as "Knuffle Bunny: A Cautionary Tale" and "Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!"), was influenced by 50s limited animation (animation that simplifies the character's movements) such as "Gerald McBoing-Boing".  But I was too young to watch the works of that era in real time, so I didn't really understand them when I was working (laughs)."

----By the way, what kind of comics did you draw?

"I drew [a] really crazy black and white comic. It was about two brothers who work as piano movers. They're said to be the best piano movers in the world, but they’re really not that good. I was inspired by American directors like Terry Gilliam (the director of "Brazil" and "12 Monkeys") and [the] Fritz Lang's film "Metropolis." I drew a dark and eccentric world. It was so outlandish that I got a ton of rejection letters from publishers (laughs). People seemed to have trouble figuring out how to sell it.”

----So from your perspective, what did you think of this work, which was painted with a uniquely Japanese touch?

"First of all, I'm attracted to the art. Look at Otomo's work. Just a single character standing in ruins creates a certain kind of image. That image is burned into your brain. That's why I'm so attracted to Otomo's work. He sometimes puts a twist on it and depicts an unrealistic world. That's what I like about him."

----You've loved comics and video games since you were a child, and that hasn't changed at all.

"Yes. I like video games because they are simply fun and a great way to kill time. I think online games on the Internet are fun because you can play them with your friends. When you're on tour like this, it's hard to meet up with your friends back home. Being able to play with them is one of the attractions.

The appeal of comics is... I love classic science fiction. I'm a big fan of the original Star Trek and The Twilight Zone. Planet of the Apes is good too. The appeal of comics is that anything is possible. You can express anything." 

----You also said in a 2004 interview with this magazine you also check out Japanese bands on YouTube. You mentioned Guitar Wolf, Cornelius, and Michelle Gun Elephant. What attracted you to them? 

"Their intensity. And the way they take music from a certain era and make it new with their own interpretation. Guitar Wolf is especially crazy! Their interpretation of rock and roll is amazing, and that's what makes them great. Their recklessness, that off-tune sound, that craziness! It's like they're playing a cheap tape recorder.”

PAGE 35:

There is an album with a sound that makes you think they just recorded it in a live recording session. But when you get down to it, it's not the sound or the songs, but their unconventionality that gets to the essence of rock and roll. I don't understand the lyrics, but the language difference doesn't matter. The energy of the vocals conveys everything. I love Japanese. I love the sound of it, I think it's a beautiful language, and it's especially beautiful when it's angry. Yes, Japanese is at its best when it's angry (laughs). That's why I love Guitar Wolf."

----I see. That makes sense (laughs). This is your fifth visit to Japan. What does Japan mean to you?

"Japan is a place that continues to inspire me. The more I come to Japan, the more I learn.

You get to know more places, and you get to meet new friends. The record company staff are my friends. The more people I know, the more I get to know Japanese people. I get inspired by them. I think the respect Japanese people have for each other is amazing. I like how they take pride in everything they do. And it's human. Even in things that seem impersonal, like computer manufacturing, you can feel the handcrafted attention to detail and craftsmanship. Japanese people value tradition and history. People from other countries are always thinking about the future and forget that the past is just as important as the present and the future.

----You've probably been to a lot of different spots, but have you been to Akihabara in Tokyo? 

"Hmm? What's it like there?"

----Home electronics have always been popular. There are lots of computers and electronic parts.

"Well, I guess I haven't been there yet. I heard there's a place in Tokyo that sells a lot of comics and manga? I'd really like to go there this time. I've mainly only been to Harajuku and Shibuya."

----That place is probably Akihabara. Personally, I also recommend Broadway in Nakano, but Akihabara is not only a comic book town, but it's also a crazy town where you can see adult women dressed as maids these days, so I definitely recommend you go there at least once!

"Oh, I've heard of it! I read it in a book. Also, a book called "Love Hotel" was recently published, so I'm thinking of reading it. It's a book about love hotels in Japan. Usually, foreigners can't enter those kinds of places.

Pic: Yuki Kuroyanagi

PAGE 36:

It's only recently that I've felt like I'm growing steadily. Before that, it felt like everything was moving so fast, and I wasn't able to cope as a person with that. Now that I'm moving forward at a steady pace, I'm adapting to the changes. [top quote]

Apparently, they were not allowed to take photos, but the author's female photographer was allowed to do so. The maid cafe also looks interesting. What place was it called again?

----Akihabara.

"There are comics there too?"

----Yes. Now, please tell us about this memorable Budokan live. Will it be with the same set and production as the US tour that was just recently?

"Yeah, we brought as much of the same set as possible. The Budokan has strict rules about pyro, but we're using the same equipment that Kiss used in Japan. So it's different from what we use in the US, but if Kiss gave us the OK, we thought we could accept it. In fact, we found that some of the things we use in the US set were unnecessary. For example, we didn't bring the ruins of a big building that we had at the back of the stage this time. It would take too long to send it to Japan. But the costumes and backdrops are all the same... and we'll use confetti, too. It's pretty much the same. But the most important thing is that the band is in top condition. We've been doing the set we're doing now for almost six months, and the composition of "The Black Parade" is perfect. That's the most important thing."

----The set list is divided into two parts, the first half is The album "The Black Parade" by The Black Parade, which can be said to be the alter ego of My Chemical Romance,and the second half is a return to My Chemical Romance and performance of other songs.

"That's right. I wanted to play all the songs on the new album. I wanted to do it in a big way. I didn't want to do it in pieces, so it just naturally came out like this. I also wanted to do something that would change from the beginning to the end of the show. So in the first half, we played a big performance with a big production, and in the second half, we stripped everything away and played our original selves. We wanted to show the core of the band. It was natural that it would be structured like this. The album is about an hour long, so it's not something that you normally hear. That's the length of a standard set. And then we do an encore in the remaining 30 minutes. But we don't like encores. We think it's arrogant to wait for the audience to applaud before going on stage, so after the first part, we go back[stage] and come out again at our own pace to show our support. [our appreciation (?)]"

----For some musicians, the stage is a place where they feel alive and can become their true selves, but what do live performances mean to you right now?

"It's a place where you feel alive. At the same time, it's a place where you can have a control that you don't have in your everyday life, and you can lose yourself. In other words, anything is possible. You can be very honest and let everything out. You can't experience that in your everyday life. From what I've seen of Japanese culture and what I've heard from Japanese kids, it's hard to express yourself with words in this country, so Japanese people express themselves through the clothes they wear. That's the case in America too, so for me, the stage is a place where I can say anything. Even if I'm opening for someone, once I'm on stage I can do anything. As long as I respect the band that's coming up after me, I can do anything."

----This summer you'll be touring with Linkin Park. How did this tour come about?

"They asked me to be their opening act. I was honored and really surprised because I'd never thought about it like that. They said, 'We're releasing a new album. We're going on tour soon, do you want to join us?' Of course I accepted."

----They're bands that have been active in a different scene than you, but there are some similarities between you and them, like the enthusiastic support of your fans and your commitment to art outside of music.

"That's right. The commonality between the two bands is that they have passionate fans who love music. Their new work is also very challenging. I think their fans are very smart because they can understand that. That means their fans could become our fans too. We like to tour with intelligent bands. That's why we toured the US with Muse recently. To really understand their music, you have to love it from the bottom of your heart. Of course, their songs are often played on the radio and are hits all over the world, but to really understand their music, you have to be sensitive. We like to tour with intelligent bands, and that's why we decided to tour with Linkin Park. I think they're very smart people.

----They have had successful arena tours in the US and the UK, and have conquered the Budokan in Japan.  How do you feel about the band's current state as it continues to grow?

"I feel great. It was only recently that I felt like we were growing steadily. Up until then, it felt like everything was moving at an incredible speed, and as people, I wasn't able to cope with that situation. But now we're moving forward at a steady pace, so I'm adapting to the changes."

----What direction do you want to take the band in the future?

"Well, I'm not sure if we want to get bigger. There are already people who enjoy our music. I'm happy to be welcomed by a larger audience, but we're not struggling to survive in this world. Actually, I miss playing small venues these days. At the same time, I want to play shows at legendary places, and I want to think about where I'll play in the future. Maybe it's one way to stop playing shows like we do now, and make the days we do play very special. I don't know if the band needs to get any bigger. I'm very happy with the situation. But I think we need to explore more creatively. ■

Pic: Tetsuro Sato

------

OP NOTE: this translation is ROUGH from google - i tried my best to make sense of some more of the questionable parts. please feel free to message me if i made any mistakes!

[peachiejeongin]

The Phantoms Part 1: Hollywood Tragedy | Bang Chan

Part 1 (You are here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Synopsis: It was supposed to be a huge night for Chan, Changbin, and Han; they would be playing their biggest show yet at the Orpheum! Yet, it all slipped from their grasp within a matter of a few seconds, as all three passed away just hours before the show. What happens when they end up on their old garage floor and meet a someone who can make their dreams come true again?

Pairing: phantom!Bang Chan x fem!reader (Reader takes the place of Julie Molina from Julie and the Phantoms) [Does not occur in this chapter]

Genre: Julie and the Phantoms/3RACHA AU, Crack, Angst

Warnings: Mentions of death

Notice: Another idea that has stemmed within my brain! I have decided to take 3RACHA and Julie and the Phantoms, combining them into an alternate universe! In this series, Bang Chan will represent Luke Patterson, Changbin will be Reggie Peters, Han will be Alex Mercer, and y/n will take the part of Julie Molina! As with every series I write, I do NOT own the rights to 'Julie and the Phantoms!' I only hold the rights to the scenes and descriptions I create! I am excited to write this series, and I hope you all enjoy :)

Hollywood, California, 1995. The night that everything changed.

Last night was destined to be momentous for Bang Chan, Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin, and Han Jisung - a triumphant step into the spotlight for their band, 3RACHA. The Orpheum, an iconic venue synonymous with "making it" in the music world, had finally opened its doors to them. It was not a simple accomplishment. Even after people knew who the band was, they still had to use every ounce of effort within them, calling in every favor they had from friends, family, and befriended executives to secure the opportunity. The day Chan received the fateful phone call inviting 3RACHA to perform a showcase at the infamous theater was unforgettable. The boys erupted into jubilant chaos in the cluttered garage - cheering, leaping, and shouting as if their dreams had materialized before them. Chan, the ever responsible leader, motioned for them to stop acting a fool as he attempted to remain professional for the secretary on the other side of the line.

Alas, 3RACHA had finally made it. The hours leading up to the performance were a blur of rehearsals, their focus razor-sharp as they fine-tuned each guitar riff, tightened every bass groove, and perfected the rhythm of every drumbeat. They poured themselves into the music, all in hopes to make the night one to remember for their fans and for cementing their place in the music industry. The night would be unforgettable, but not in the way the boys envisioned.

---

Microphone feedback rang out briefly through the stage room as 3RACHA ran through one last song before the show. Chan began the guitar riff for the band's lead track, 'Now or Never,' followed by three raps of Han's drumsticks.

"1, 2, 3!"

"Take off Last stop Countdown till we blast open the top Face first Full charge Electric hammer to the heart"

Chan's rich, melodious voice resonated through the venue, each note carrying a raw, electrifying energy that sent shivers through the crowd. His fingers kept up expertly with the fretboard of his guitar, each strum perfectly synced with the driving beat. As the lead guitarist and vocalist, the weight of the performance rested heavily on his shoulders, but he fulfilled it with grace and passion that was nothing short of breathtaking A confident smirk tugged at his lips as he glanced at the audience, their cheers spurring him on. Moments later, Changbin and Han stepped forward, their voices blending seamlessly with his for the pre-chorus, creating a harmony that seemed to light up the entire room.

"Clocks move faster 'Cause it's all we're after now"

Chan motioned subtly for Changbin, signaling him to join him at the microphone for the next verse. It was a part of the song they always sang together; although it had originally been written it in a tune solely for Chan. However, sharing the lyric with Changbin brought an undeniable sense of ease, grounding Chan even in the most nerve-wracking moments, whether performing or during a simple soundcheck.

Changbin instantly caught the cue, shooting Chan an exhausted yet eager grin, the exhaustion from rehearsals evident in his eyes but overshadowed by his enthusiasm. He approached the microphone stand, his movements quick yet deliberate, until his face was barely inches away from Chan's. Their voices joined in perfect harmony, a combined energy radiating through the air as the two began their shared lyric.

"Won't stop climbing 'Cause this is our time, yeah"

Changbin and Chan moved effortlessly back and forth to the tune of their own song, their bodies rocking and swaying with the beat. Grins stretched wife across their faces, uncontainable and almost goofy, as they fed off each other's energy. Chan pushed Changbin back with a playful shove, reclaiming the microphone and belting out his independent verse. As he hit the final note, he raised a hand from his to pump a triumphant fist in the air, a singature habit he had in between rest notes.

"When all the days felt black and white Those were the best shades of my life!"

Chan expressed pure joy as the band launched into the chorus, his smile wide and unrestrained. Beads of sweat glistened down all of the band members' foreheads, a testament to the energy they poured into every note and lyric. Their hearts pounded wildly, each beat louder and more intense than the thunder of Han's drum set; it was as if the music itself had fused with their very beings.

"Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising Up right now And even if we Hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never!"

With three exaggerated guitar crescendos and a rapid-fire drum fill, the boys shifted in unison, turning to face Han as he prepared to take the spotlight. Their smiles were full of encouragement, silently cheering him on as he began his solo verse. His voice rang out clear and commanding, each word carrying the weight of the song's energy, filling the room with an electric charge that left the Orpheum hanging on every note.

"We ain't searching for tomorrow (tomorrow) 'Cause we got all we need today (today)"

Changbin served as backup vocals for the verse. His mid-pitched voice complimented Han's higher tone in an ethereal way. "Living on a feeling that's been running through our veins We're the revolution that's been singing in the rain"

As the four guys sang the final chorus, they clapped to the beat, their movements aligning effortlessly with the sharp rhythm Han's drumsticks repping through the air. Chan, being the performer that keeps the crowd on their toes, pulled off a fresh trick - swinging his guitar in a smooth loop around his body before catching it flawlessly. As he caught it, the guitar riffs kicked back in, powerful and precise, while smoke uprose dramatically from below the stage, shrouding the band in a haze of light and sound. The boys jumped all across the stage, their infectous energy igniting the room. Despite the hullabaloo of movement, their vocals remained impressively steady, demonstrating their dedication to the art.

"Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never It's now or never (now or never)"

The final high note was always difficult to warble, but Chan delivered it flawlessly, his voice unwavering and powerful. As the song, reached its climax, 3RACHA ended the song all facing Han, each member locking in for the finale. Changbin, Chan, and Hyunjin poured all of their energy into their final, thrilling guitar plays, while Han punctuated the moment with an impactful cymbal crash that seemed to reverberate throughout the entire building.

With the last note hanging in the air, they spun around to face the crowd, with Chan raising his forearms above his head in a motion of triumph. Their hair stuck messily to their necks and foreheads, and adrenaline still coursed through their veins; all four had one thought cross their minds simultaneously: the ride home was going to reek of straight teenage boy body odor - and it was one-hundred percent worth it.

The crowd for the group's soundcheck was modest yet attentive; said crowd consisted of two members of the audio crew, a couple bartenders lingering in the back of the room, and one girl wiping down tables. From the small audience came a plethora of applause, as well as a few cheerful "Sounds great, guys!" comments that echoed in the near-empty space.

One girl in particular stood out - the one wiping down tables. She clapped the loudest, her enthusiastic applause adorned with spirited cheering. Her encouragement drew grins and chuckled from the band as they wrapped up their set. Still laughing, they carefully put their instruments back onto their proper stands, the girl's reaction making them feel as if they just played a packed stadium.

"Thank you! We're 3RACHA!" Changbin grabbed his mic for one final quip, which he complimented with a swift wink at the girl. He readjusted his microphone to its previous stance before rejoining the other guys.

"Too bad we wasted that on the soundcheck," Hyunjin, the rhythm guitarist of the group, commented. "That was the tightest we've ever played!" He and Chan fist bumped as the latter adjusted his necklace back to the front of his shirt. Han was given the same fist bump from the former as he attempted to one-handedly comb through his disheveled hair.

"Wait until tonight, man, when this place gets packed with record execs!" Chan exclaimed, turning his attention back to the center of the crowd, his eyes widened in hopeful expectation. Chan's ultimate goal for the band was to secure a record deal, and tonight was the perfect opportunity to turn his dream into a reality. After all Chan had sacrificed to keep 3RACHA alive, from running away from home to countless late nights producing and writing, they deserved at least a couple of deals, right?

"Han, you were smoking!" Changbin commented towards the brunette drummer.

"Hm? Oh no," Han denied, waving his hand dismissively. "I was just warming up. You guys were the ones on fire," he finished as he motioned to the other three members.

"Could you just own your awesomeness for once?" Changbin held up his pointer finger accentuatedly as he raised his eyebrows at Han. Han turned to the rest of the guys for approval, his blank expression slowly turning into one of meek self-appreciation; his nervous glances were met with nods from his band mates.

"All right, I was killing it!" he finally admitted in the tone of an energetic yell as he turned back to Changbin. Chan rubbed his shoulders in an animated manner before the brunette went in for a hug from Changbin.

"Okay, well I'm thinking we fuel up before the show," Chan began, still panting lightly from the intensity of the soundcheck. "I'm thinking street dogs." The rest of the boys agreed on the food choice with an 'Ooh!' coming from Changbin and an enthusiastic, 'Yes!' from Han's end. Hyunjin, however, had made his way towards the front of the auditorium, shaking his head in disagreement.

"Hey, Hyun," Han called after him. "Where ya going?"

"I'm good!" Hyunjin responded, referring to the street dogs. Hyunjin was now leaning forward on his hands, engaged in conversation with the cheering girl from before. "I'm a vegetarian, I could never hurt an animal." The other three boys shot daggers at Hyunjin's boldfaced lie, but then again, they knew Hyunjin all too well - he was one do to anything for his own gain, even if that gain were as simple as impressing someone.

"You guys are really good." The girl disregarded Hyunjin's flirtations, a mild accent lacing her tone. Chan moved his free arm to lean against Hyunjin's shoulder as he muttered a "Thank you."

"I see a lot of bands. I've actually been in a couple myself. I was really feeling it." Her compliments were genuine, which made all four boys beam in delight.

"That's what we do this for," Chan replied as he pushed in front of all of his members in order to get closer to the girl. "I'm Chan, by the way." The rest of the guys followed his lead with their respective introductions.

"Changbin! Hi, I'm Changbin!"

"Han! Hey!"

"Hyunjin." The last of the band greeted the girl by shoving himself in front of Chan; the latter of the two then stuck his pointer finger in his mouth, wetting it swiftly and sticking it directly in the former's ear. Han flashed her an apologetic look before she introduced herself as Rose.

"Oh, uh, here's our demo!" Changbin handed Rose one of the CDs he had been carrying, as well as a T-shirt he claimed to be "size beautiful." Upon that comment, Hyunjin and Chan both shook their heads, Hyun complimenting his with a subtle side glance. Changbin caught on to the stink eye as Rose thanked him for the shirt, shrugging his shoulders slightly afterwards in response.

"I'll make sure not to wipe the tables down with this one," Rose joked.

"Oh, good call," Han responded, completely serious. "Whenever they get wet, they just kinda," Han paused, holding his hands out in front of him and wiggling his fingers in jagged movements before shoving his hands back into his pockets, "fall apart in your hands."

"Don't you guys have to go get hot dogs?" Hyunjin ployed as a way to make the guys leave him and Rose alone, undoubtedly planning to pester the girl with more flirtatious banter.

"Yeah," Chan smacked Hyunjin on the chest before leaning in front of Rose. "He had a hamburger for lunch today." They all giggled at the exposure before galloping away to purchase the infamous Street Dogs; Changbin did so with a pile of merchandise in hand. Chan made one last quip, however:

"Oh, and uh, Hyun? How's the bum rash, Mate?" If looks could kill, Hyunjin would have murdered Chan in cold blood.

Chan quickly escaped before that could happen, however, opting to catch up with Han and Changbin instead. A fit of giggles escaped his lips as he ran off.

---

Chan burst through the doors to the outside world, wrapping his arms tightly around Changbin and Han as they ventured down the street.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Chan enthusedly screamed as he took in the illuminated streets around him. Changbin replied with a scrunched nose.

"The smell of Sunset Boulevard?" he inquired with a chuckle.

"No, doofus," Chan answered, optimism still bright in his eyes. "Don't you get it? What that girl said in there tonight about our music?" Han and Changbin eyed each other perplexedly. Chan sighed, shaking his head. "It's an energy! Our music connects people. Connects us with people. They can feel our presence when we play." Chan eyed a group of fans lining up outside of the theater, smiling brightly as he did so.

"I want to have that connection with everybody."

"Then we are going to need a lot more t-shirts," Changbin responded, causing the other two to almost topple over in laughter. "But before we get shirts, can we get sustenance? Sound check's got me starving." Chan and Han nodded, muttering, "Yeah man," and "Of course," respectively.

As the three made their way to their Street Dog whereabouts, Changbin caught up to a group of girls standing outside of the Orpheum; he handed them a pile of 3RACHA branded t-shirts, and the subsequent squeals and calls for the bassist delighted his heart as he ran back over to his members.

The three eventually made it to the corner of Sunset Boulevard, where an Oldsmobile was set up. The open trunk contained hot dogs, hot dog buns, and every condiment imaginable. The three boys wasted no time in digging into the nourishment; the three of them messily assmbled their own respective hot dogs, with Han being the grubbiest of the three.

"Sorry, man," he spoke to the owner of the vehicle. "I got pickle juice on your batteries."

"Eh, don't worry about it," the owner replied. "It'll help with the rust." Han's faced contorted in uncertainty.

"I don't think..." The man creepily grinned at Han's aloud thought. Pickle juice did not have the chemical formula to clear rust off of a car battery, Han figured. The suspicious feeling in his gut grew; however, Chan grabbed his shoulder and dragged him and Changbin to an empty alleyway before he could think further on the matter.

The alley was adjacent to the Oldsmobile corner. The three guys plopped down onto an older couch towards the middle of the sidewalk; smiles were etched on two of the three faces, with Han still looking unsure about the Street Dog encounter.

"This is awesome, you guys!" Chan began rambling excitedly. "We're playing the Orpheum!" Joy completely enveloped the oldest of the three. He bit his lip, something he did whenever he felt a rush of adrenaline. "I can't even count how many artists have played here and become legends of their time. Louis Armstrong, The Bee Gees, the list goes on, mates." Chan glanced up at the starts and slowly closed his eyes as if he was making a wish; he let out a deep breath as he opened them.

"We're going to be legends."

Chan raised up his hot dog, encouraging the other two to follow suit in a sort of toast fashion.

"Eat up, boys. After tonight, no more Street Dogs. We're gonna be dining like rich kids." Chan ended his declaration with a chuckle, resulting in a smile from Changbin.

Chan took a bite of his hot dog first, followed closely by Changbin. Han was still immensely reluctant to even look at his; however, his mind had convinced him that it was not a big deal, that he was overthinking the situation. As such, he was the last of the three to scarf down his meal. Almost instantaneously, the gutwrenching feeling had returned; Han tasted a unique flavor, unlike the syrupy texture of ketchup, the tang of mustard, or the flavor of any other condiment; it tasted metallic, bitter, and unappetizing.

"That's a new flavor!" Han called to the other two, his faced puckered up in disgust.

"Chill man," Changbin casually responded, flicking his hand in a, 'do-not-worry,' motion. "Street Dogs haven't killed us yet!"

Talk about famous last words.

The exact sequence of events following Changbin's declaration of certainty was blurry. All the three could recall was an unappeasing churn in their stomachs, a sensation so intense that it forced the boys to the ground. Gasping for air, they clutching their torsos, their faces etched with pain and fear as they exchanged panicked looks. The world around them seemed to obscure moreso, the sharp wail of an ambulance siren wailing in the distance and echoing in their ringing ears.

Before they could process the unfolding calamity, their bodies grew limp, and they were lifted up by the strong hands of paramedics onto stretchers. The emergency workers moved precisely and urgently, working fastly in order to save the disaster at hand. Outside of the Orpheum, a crowd of fans looked on, stricken with worry and disbelief. Whispers spread among them like wildfire, prayers and manifestations filling the air as 3RACHA was transported to the hospital. They had saved up their allowances in hopes to see this show, but all they could anticipate now was a recovery from the three and a reschedule of the showcase.

By morning, news outlets would be covering 3RACHA's most notorious embellishment; unfortunately, it would not be the concert they worked so hard to make it to, or a spectacular recovery from their tribulated sickness.

"3RACHA: A Hollywood Tragedy."

[yanderejustforyou]

Day 5 - Fire Places || Fuzzy Socks, Soft Rugs, and Hands Intertwined

Fandom: The Dark Knight Pairing: Joker x Reader Genre: Dark Romance | Fire Play

Short and Sweet

The fire crackled rhythmically in the hearth, its gentle popping sounds forming a comforting soundtrack that filled the cozy space. The flames danced merrily, casting a warm and flickering glow throughout the dimly lit room, transforming the shadows into shifting forms that flicked along the walls. The ambiance wrapped around you like a familiar blanket, soothing and intimate. The only other sounds accompanying the fire were the soft shuffle of your fuzzy socks against the plush rug that cradled your feet, the fibers a gentle embrace against your skin.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, a position that felt relaxed yet charged with energy. Your hands were delicately intertwined with his, fingers threading through the various grooves and lines of his palms. It was a captivating moment as you traced the paths of his lifeline, a habit you had formed time and again, lost in the simple act of connection while he remained utterly focused on you. His gaze bore into you, intense and unwavering, as if he were trying to read every thought that danced through your mind.

Joker was a creature of chaos, a harbinger of unpredictable energy, but there was something distinctly different about the atmosphere tonight. His typical manic exuberance, the kind that sent shivers down your spine, had morphed into a more brooding demeanor, one that hinted at something darker—an intensity that felt possessive and all-consuming. The firelight flickered against his pale skin, casting an ethereal glow that accentuated the sharp contours of his face and the mischievous smirk that tugged playfully at the corner of his lips.

“Comfy, are we?” he purred, his voice low and almost syrupy sweet, yet it held an unmistakable undercurrent of danger that sent a delightful shiver racing down your spine. He was playing a game, as he always did, one that danced precariously on the edge of thrill and trepidation. His other hand, so delicate yet full of intent, drifted toward the dancing flames, hovering dangerously close to the lick of fire. It was as if he were hypnotized by the flickering light, his fixation palpable in the air between you.

You couldn't help but feel a warm thrill flood through you, the cocktail of fear and fascination swirling just beneath your skin. You watched as his fingers dipped impossibly closer to the flames, almost as if he were caught in a challenge—determining whether he was testing the heat of the fire or the limits of your own discomfort. All the while, your heartbeat quickened, a drum echoing softly in the silence, matching the rising tension in the room.

“I could burn you, you know,” Joker whispered, his voice a dark melody that sent a thrilling chill racing along your spine. The malicious gleam in his eyes sparkled like the flames, full of mischief and something deeper that hinted at desire. “But I think I’d rather have you just... melt under my touch.” His words wrapped around you, both inviting and foreboding, painting vivid images in your mind.

You swallowed hard, the blend of fear and excitement swirling inside you as his hand finally returned to yours, reestablishing that electric connection. He threaded his fingers between yours, a possessive gesture that filled you with a mix of comfort and uncertainty as he tugged you closer, his grin widening into something predatory. “You’re mine now,” he declared, his voice thick with intent. “Fire can be so... persuasive, don’t you think?” The heat from his touch radiated with every second, the tension palpable as you shared this moment, suspended in time.

With a playful tilt of his head, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, sending tingles of anticipation coursing through you. “Let’s see if we can heat things up a little more,” he murmured softly, his tone dripping with a concoction of temptation and almost sinister promise, igniting a spark of wild exhilaration in your chest.

[persephone-writes2]

On the Streets of Coruscant

Padawan! Obi-Wan x Fem!reader

Part Two (posted on my new account)

Description: The reader meets the dashingly handsome Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi at a club, deciding to take him to see the sights of Coruscant.

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings & tags: slight swearing (i refuse to use canon swear words), drinking, kissing, lots of fluff, pre phantom menace, everyone is an adult in this! me making up star wars names (this shit is hard!), bittersweet ending, saying “chuckled” too much

Notes: This is the second fic I've ever posted, and its been YEARS. Its also the first time I've written Obi-Wan, so sorry if this is awful! I would appreciate any constructive criticism and reactions <3 Also, this was inspired by these bts pics of Ewan cause ughghghg!!

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The streets of Coruscant were always buzzing, day or night, and whatever the weather. The only refuge one could find from its constant commotion was indoors, preferably on the upper levels, where the noise could be drowned out and the shades could be drawn. While not on the lowest level, Y/N had no such luxury, having to deal with the hustle and bustle no matter what she did. However, it was a small price to pay for leaving Corellia, which was beautiful, yet boring. It wasn't her fault that some of the best schools in the galaxy were located on Coruscant, or that their clubs were so good.

It was Zhellday, which meant Y/N had once again found herself in her and her friends usual club, which one of their fathers owned. It was the best mid-level bar in the region, and they got to drink for cheap, so they rarely went anywhere else. They sat around one of the many small seating areas away from the dance floor, nursing some early drinks and gazing around at the crowd. Ya'sami, a twi'lek who had come to Coruscant for the same reason as Y/N, quickly downed their drink, smiling at the group.

"Someone dance with me," they said, looking around at the group.

Ripp shook his head. "I'm not drunk enough." They all knew you had to get Ripp good and drunk if he was going to dance.

"Alright," Y/N said in an exaggeratedly annoyed tone, "If you insist."

"Finally!" Ya'sami laughed, "Its what we come for, is it not?"

Laughing, Ya'sami took Y/N's hand and led them to the dance floor. The music was annoyingly loud, but neither noticed, forgetting their loads of schoolwork and impending due-dates in favor of the drumming boom of sound. The music was different on Coruscant than it was on Corellia. While Corellia wasn’t known for its soft melody’s or brooding lyrics, Coruscant’s made it seem so. On Coruscant, music was meant for partying, and Y/N took it up on its enticing offer.

After a while, Y/N grew parched, and yelled to Ya'sami over the noise, "I'm going to the bar!" Ya'sami kept on dancing, now in their own little groove.

Y/N pushed through the thick crowd, bumping elbows but trying her best to be polite. She muscled her way to the front, finding a small empty space along the surface of the bar. She rested her elbows against it, waiting for the bartender, who knew her well, to come over. It would take a while, since it was peak hours on a Zhellday, but she didn't mind. It was nice to cool off, as she could feel her arms growing sticky with the heat of all the bodies pressed into one room.

The bartender came up to give the man beside her his drink, throwing her an apologetic look. "Sorry Y/N, I'm swamped, I'll be there in a minute."

"No problem," she said, smiling.

Just as the space opened up next to her, another came to take his place. She felt something rough brush against her arm, and glancing over, she caught a look at the unfairly attractive man next to her. She looked away quickly, smiling sheepishly to herself. Even as an adult, Y/N always felt like a schoolgirl around attractive people. Trying to act inconspicuous, she dared another glance. His hair was a reddish brown, cropped short and spiky around his face. His nose was straight and his brow was strong. As the colored lights danced against his face, she noticed a small dimple on his chin. Stars, was he cute. Furrowing her brows, Y/N first thought it strange to wear such an outfit at a club of all places. His robes were plain and loose upon his chest, his deep brown cloak draped over his shoulders and billowing down to the floor. Then, the realization hit her as her eyes honed in on the small braid cascading down his left shoulder.

Y/N looked away quickly, head reeling. She knew little about the Jedi, only what her friend from Coruscant had told her. "Very secretive," Ripp had said, "All any normal person really knows about them is their 'force' or whatever it is, and their light sabers. And, once when I was a kid, I heard one got kicked out because he was seeing a woman on the outside."

And, Y/N had found out one way or another, before they were Jedi Masters, they wore a long braid on the side of their head.

Nothing Y/N knew about them said they couldn't go to clubs on their nights off, or did they even get a night off? Even if they technically could, Y/N had never seen one casually grabbing a drink anywhere, or even heard about it. It seemed like something people would gossip about.

The bartender came wizzing around the corner. The man, or rather Jedi, beside Y/N stuck his hand out as he passed.

"I'm looking for someone named-" he began in a strong Coruscanti accent. The bartender only glanced his way.

"Sorry kid, I'm a little busy," he said before quickly walking away, carrying far too many drinks.

The Jedi huffed, hanging his head for a moment before looking back at the sea of people. Before Y/N even knew what she was doing, she turned to the handsome stranger.

"I might know who you're looking for."

He turned to her, eyes blue and bright, and she nearly gasped. Stars, she kept saying over and over in her head, stars, stars, stars.

He raised his eye brows at her, looking around for moment before turning back to her gaze. Her eyes bounced around, fearing he may be able to tell she fancied him just by looking at her.

"You might?" he asked, clearly surprised, though Y/N didn't know what exactly for. Was he shocked that she was listening to him, or that some random club-goer dared to speak to him, a Jedi-in-training. She couldn't think about it for too long, as he was waiting for an answer.

"Y-yeah," she stuttered, "I come here a lot, and my friends father owns the place."

He nodded, giving her a small smile, making her nerves build even more than they had before. She wasn't sure if it was because he was so handsome, or the fact that she knew he had a light saber stashed under his robes and lived in the big temple on the upper level.

"I'm looking for a Mirialan named Craz. He's said to spend some time here." He looked at her sternly, yet with a clam air about him. Y/N had expected him to be arrogant, someone of such importance. However, she had the feeling he was not at all, despite the authority he could so easily command. Although he was on the job, or so she assumed, he posture was relaxed and easy like his robes.

She shook her head, feeling guilty or taking up his time when she had no answers. He only looked slightly disappointed, a crease forming between his brows.

As he went to speak, Y/N interrupted, again without thinking. The thought of him leaving, without learning even so much as his name, made her want to prolong it as long as she could. She told herself it was curiosity, rather than hopeless attraction.

"My friends might know, though! Most of them have been living here longer than I have."

His eyes turned upwards in thought before he glanced around. He shrugged, smiling once again. "Thank you," he said, letting Y/N lead the way from the bar.

She could feel him following behind her, so close yet never touching. Weaving through the crowd, she looked back once to see if he was still there or had been lost amongst the people. He was, catching her looking and staring straight into her eyes. While he was not smiling, he seemed somewhat amused at her guilty glance. She realized it was foolish to think he, a Jedi, might have lost his way.

They made their way to her friends, most of which were still sitting at the spot where she left them. While a few had gone to dance, Ripp, whos father was the owner, was thankfully still there. If anyone would know who the man was, it would be him.

"Guys," she said, the man standing beside her, "this is..." She faltered.

"Obi-Wan," he said.

Ripp's eye went wide, and Y/N could feel her face heat up already. She should have known they'd freak out at the sight of her bringing along a Jedi.

Dani, who was sitting beside Ripp, began to giggle. Y/N rolled her eyes, knowing it was he was handsome.

"What brings a gentleman such as yourself into a place like this?" Ripp joked. Dani bit her lip, making Y/N want to crawl inside of herself. Obi-Wan either didn't notice Dani's shameless display or chose not to react. Rather, he chuckled at Ripp's joke.

"I am looking for a Mirilalan, Craz. I was told you may know where he is."

"Oh, I know Craz," Ripp answered, leaning back into the couch, "My father had to throw him out of here a few months ago and told him never to come back."

Obi-Wan put a hand on his chin in thought. "Do you know where he might be these days?"

Ripp shook his head, "No clue, sorry."

Obi-Wan huffed, placing a hand on his hip. In doing so, he revealed his light saber hanging from the leather belt along his waist. Y/N had never seen one up close, only catching glimpses on the holo. It's impressiveness did not escape her, nor did its elegance. For a moment she wondered if he would let her see it closer if she asked, though she promptly pushed this thought from her mind. Not only would it be rude, but she felt as if outside eyes on such a weapon could somehow tarnish its great power.

Besides the deadly force hanging from his belt, Obi-Wan appeared the more normal he had all night. His stance was even more relaxed than it had been before, as if he was just another club-goer waiting on a drink.

After a moment of thought, Obi-Wan spoke again, "Thank you for your help, and I apologize for taking so much of your time."

Y/N nearly laughed, for he had not taken more than a minute. She wondered if all Jedi were so polite. As he turned to leave, Ripp called after him, not hiding his excitement, "Nice meeting you, Obi-Wan!"

Obi-Wan turned and smirked, offering a courteous, "Likewise." before walking away.

As he disappeared into the crowd, Dani stared dreamily into the distance. "Ya'sami's going to be so mad when she hears about this! Stars, are all Jedi that cute?"

"He can probably still hear you," Ripp joked, making Dani go pink.

For the third time that evening, Y/N acted without thinking, all due to the handsome Jedi. Without responding to her friends, she turned and followed after Obi-Wan, trying to reach him in the crowd. He was hard to spot, but she caught him skirting around the dance floor, robe flowing behind. As she neared him, she shouted his name. He turned, not looking all that surprised. Perhaps he sensed me coming.

"Yes?" he asked, accent smooth and level, even through all the noise.

She hadn't thought of what she was going to say, and her heart began racing, threatening to burst from her chest. She had never acted on so many impulses in one night before, usually allowing herself a single bad decision and refraining from the rest. The common culprits were almost always benign, such as one too many drinks or dancing too close to a handsy guy. Never had she been so forward with someone who she knew, deep down, would never fall for her advances.

"I-I," she stuttered. Maker, get yourself together. "I feel bad, for not helping you more, taking up your time."

He did not laugh, but looked at her with a soft pity. "It's quite alright. Your friend provided me with important information. I will search elsewhere."

Elsewhere, not here, not with me.

"Well, let me at least buy you a drink," she offered, smiling. Seeing his reservations, she offered another excuse, "I get them half off anyway."

He thought for a moment, tilting his head slightly before meeting her eyes. Could Jedi even drink?

“Come on,” she pleaded, growing a bit desperate. Embarrassed by her own words, she attempted to backpedal a bit, “one for the road.”

"Alright, if you insist," he answered, looking towards the bar. They found a spot to wait, Obi-Wan resting an elbow against it and peering out across the room. Y/N angled towards him slightly, though kept a polite distance.

"I'm Y/N," she said, holding out her hand.

He took it, handshake far softer than she expected. She felt a spark run up her arm.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Y/N".

She loved the way her name sounded on his lips. She never was one to swoon over the Coruscanti accent, as she had run across many travelers with it on Corellia. There was just something about his voice, subtle but strong, serious on the edge of jest.

"Are you allowed to tell me what this Craz has done to warrant your search?" Y/N was half joking and half curious, especially since learning that Ripps father had thrown him out not too long ago.

"He's an important member of a crime syndicate that runs out of the lower levels, but they've been making their way up the city for some time now."

"Maker, I didn't know we got those kinds of characters in here." She truly was shocked, for she had only seen a few fights break out here, and never with blasters.

"You usually don't. It's easier to keep it contained if they don't spread levels, which is why I'm here."

The bartender interrupted them, looking a bit dazed due to his consent running around.

"Y/N," he said, and then looking towards Obi-Wan, "Sorry about before, Kid. What do you need?"

Obi-Wan replied before Y/N had the chance, "It's all taken care of."

The bartender looked pleased to not have to answer any questions on such a busy night. "So, what can I get you?"

"I'll have a phattro," Y/N began, "And you'll have.." she said, looking towards Obi-Wan.

"A corellian," he said, glancing towards her with a thankful nod.

"A phattro and a corellian," the bartender repeated before walking away to make the drinks.

Y/N smiled towards Obi-Wan. "A corellian," she said slyly. Obi-Wan gave her an amused look. "Thats where I'm from."

"A planet rich with history," he offered, for the first time seemingly genuinely intrigued.

"Yes, and a stagnant present," she chuckled dryly, "have you ever been there?"

He shook his head. "I have not had the pleasure."

"I'd say it is more of a pleasure that you haven't been there. It's excitements pale in comparison to Coruscant, unless you enjoy working long hours on ships."

For the first time, he fully laughed, rather than a reserved chuckle. His eyes shined in the lights, forcing Y/N to look away before her knees gave out.

"I'm not much for flying," said Obi-Wan, still looking at her, "My strong suits lay elsewhere."

"And where may that be?" She leaned in a bit closer to him, for a moment forgetting he was not just a man she met at the bar who happened to catch her eye. He did not move away or look displeased. In fact, he appeared amused.

"Conversation," he answered simply.

The bartender came over with their drinks.

“Put it on my tab,” she said to the bartender, who nodded and walked off.

Y/N watched as Obi-Wan took a sip of his, emptying half of the small glass.

"Then I shall test your abilities," she said, smirking as she lead him away from the bar and into the crowd. They stood amongst the others for a moment, now closer than they had been to each other all night. Once again, his cloak pressed against her shoulder, though she now felt his arm beneath it. She tried to hide her childish joy at the barely-there connection, taking a sip of her drink.

It was a bit louder now that they moved farther into the thick of things. Obi-Wan was forced to lean closer to her ear as he spoke, "Did you come to Coruscant only for the excitements?"

She couldn't help but laugh, "No, I go to the university. The night life is only a bonus."

"What are your studies in?" he asked, surprising Y/N for the umptenth time. She hadn't expected him to be interested in her life.

"Intergalatic relations. I hope to work for senatorial office one day."

He smiled brightly. Stars, he had a lovely smile.

"An honorable profession."

She could feel his eyes on her as he spoke, swearing she could catch him daring a look at her outfit, which was far more flashy than she would wear in her day-to-day life. Rather than feeling embarrassed, she thanked herself for putting so much thought in her partying appearance, which Ya'sami had said was totally smokin'. At the time she had brushed it off, laughing, though now she realized Ya'sami may have been right.

"Not as honorable as yours," she chuckled nervously. It was the first time either of them had hinted at him being a Jedi, and she soon feared that it would scare him away. While he did not seem to be easily frightened, rather on the contrary, she did not know if he was bending any rules to have a drink with her.

He looked away, seeming to remember his place for a moment. To Y/N's delight, he turned back quickly.

"We all have our place," he offered, "Without the senatorial office, who knows what would have become of me."

Boldly, Y/N began to push the boundaries of whatever this was. "I'm sure you would've done great things either way. I can't imagine you back home in the shipyards."

"Without the Corellian shipyards, where would the senate procure their greatest ships?" His question came off not as defensive, or even as if he was trying to steer the conversation away from himself. Rather, Y/N had the feeling she had genuinely engaged him in an interesting topic of conversation. She tried not to let her chest swell with a strange sort of pride.

"I have to say, your respect for my home world surprises me, especially due to their exceedingly cold attitude towards the Senate."

He laughed, making Y/N wonder how she could make him do it again. She wanted to listen to him laugh all night.

"I am starting to see why you left."

"Perhaps you are coddled by the comforts of Coruscant. Though I'd think that you've traveled to your fair share of systems." She took a sip of her drink, watching him from the corner of her eye. A pink light shined against the back of his head, highlighting his spiky hair.

"It's one of the perks," he said before finishing the rest of his drink. Fuck, he'll probably leave now.

Thankfully, he kept talking, "Though you often do not get the chance to sight-see."

"What a shame." She sincerely felt sorry for Obi-Wan, realizing that he likely didn't get out much. Perhaps thats why he allowed her to buy him a drink, why he so thoughtfully indulged her wishes to entertain him, even for a few minutes.

As she thought on this more, she pondered the possibility that he had never been taken around Coruscant, shown the touristy landmarks that everyone visits when they first arrive. Likely he had been all around the city, though it was probably for work with the inability to stop and take it all in. All at once, she had the ludicrous, irresponsible idea of taking his hand and dragging him around to all the sights that enthrall the thousands of tourists that flood the streets everyday.

"I assume you've seen the sights of Coruscant?" she asked shyly, internally pleading that he would say no.

He shook his head and she forced herself to not jump for joy. "Only in passing, though I know my way around the lower levels quite well. But I do not think that is what you meant," he chuckled.

All too eagerly, she spoke in excitement, "Well, how much time do you have?"

He sighed, looking weary. She could tell he was going over the time in his head, thinking about going along with her across the city, and about whoever was waiting for him back at the temple.

"I really shouldn't..." he said, mostly to himself. A smile began to form at the corner of his mouth.

"Come on," she pried, grinning up at him, "It'll only take a little while. Just call it a much needed break." In an act of flirtatious desperation, she held out her hand for him to take. Looking down at it, then up to her, he placed his hand in hers, smiling.

She quickly began leading, or rather pulling him towards the exit of the club. As they passed a small table, they each half hazzardly placed their drink down. For a moment she remembered she was here with friends, who were likely wondering where she was, though she hadn't the mind to care. Caught up in the temptation of spending the evening with Obi-Wan, with whom she had grown more and more enthralled with, Y/N giddily pushed the heavy doors to walk out into the cool city night. Now outside, the music was muffled, yet the bass was still heavy in the air. Despite the crisp temperature, Y/N's body was still warm with the heat of the club, and with the feeling of Obi-Wan's hand clasped in hers. She turned back to look at him, who was a bit more collected than herself, but still more carefree than he had been in the club. Perhaps he wasn’t used to suck loud music, or being surrounded by drunk patrons looking to dance. Slowly and to her glee, she could tell he was forgetting the original purpose of his visit.

"So, do you have a preference to where we got first, or I shall I choose?" she asked.

Obi-Wan answered quickly, "You choose."

"To the Plaza then," she said, beginning to walk down the crowded street. Hands still in one anothers, she lead Obi-Wan down the enclosed street towards an opening to the roadway. They each looked out across the wide space filled with cruisers and neon lights on the side of the skyscrapers. Billboards flashed bright images which reflected upon the fast moving cruises, pictures clear against the long transports. Openings in the platforms above revealed the deep black of the night sky, which did not shine with stars.

"Its the one thing I miss about Corellia," she began, staring up at the sky, "The stars."

Obi-Wan looked up and then back at her, though she did not notice, too busy imagining what night looked like on Corellia.

"I remember the first time I saw them," he said with a sigh. Y/N turned towards him, gently holding his hand a bit tighter. "It was on Noe'ha'on. Before then I had only seen them in ships, or briefly on the holo."

For the second time, Y/N felt sorry for Obi-Wan. She almost made herself laugh at the thought of feeling sorry for a Jedi.

He began again, "It was if I was seeing them for the first time. I could not imagine anything in the galaxy more beautiful."

They were staring at each other now, and Y/N felt her heart begin beating faster. She wished he was talking about her and not to her. For an instant, she thought about saying no, you're the most beautiful thing in the galaxy. Then, fear struck her. Could he hear what she was thinking?

"You must see them a lot now, going place to place."

"Yes, but they deserve a moment of peace which does not often find itself on missions.” He seemed to grow lost in thought, and Y/N enjoyed simply watching him think for a moment.

"When I was a little girl,” she said, breaking the silence, “I would sit and look at them for hours. In the winter, if you were lucky, sometimes you could catch aurora borealis." She began to think about showing Obi-Wan the show of lights that would grace the Corellian skies.

He smiled at her words. "I have seen that too, though only once. That was long ago."

"Its too bad I can't show you that tonight," she said with a sad smile, "though I will keep my promise and show you what the travelers come for!" Her excitement returned, and she turned to hail a taxi. One came wizzing by and to an abrupt stop in front of them. The door slid open, and Y/N was forced to let go of Obi-Wan's hand. She mourned the loss of his touch, which she did not expect she would receive again. The excuse to take his hand was all but gone, so she settle for sitting next to him.

The droid asked them their destination, with Y/N answering in the calmest manner she could muster. She thought it wise to hide her elation at his company, attempting to present an air of coolness that would likely fail. Obi-Wan had not yet recoiled fully at her advances of friendship, which she was thankful for.

Y/N looked out the window of the taxi, watching as it climbed through the air towards the upper levels. She had been on Coruscant for a year now, but the foreign beauty of the city was not yet lost on her. Obi-Wan watched her expression of wonder at the sights, which she was meant to be showing him. He chuckled at her childlike enrapture, making her turn to him with a confused look.

"Are you making fun of me?" she asked in amusement. He seemed a bit horrified at the thought of offending her.

"Oh, no, I-"

She cut him off with laughter., “I'm only teasing."

He visibly relaxed at her words, his smiling returning.

"I still can't get over the sight of the city at night," she explained, "I lived a ways off from any city on Corellia. I'm not entirely used to it yet, though I'm not sure I want to be."

"Wonder is a great gift," his voice was tender, much softer than before, "most loose it as they grow."

Her chest warmed at his words, feeling fuzzy. She had never met anyone like Obi-Wan, and not just because he was a Jedi. His poise came off not as a cockiness, but rather comfortably dignified. She did not get the impression that he thought her below him, even though she met him as he was on some important work and she was blowing off steam at a club. They way he took her hand so easily, the way he allowed her to take him away in a taxi, and the way in which he complimented a trait of hers she often felt insecure about; her ceaseless wonder at the world around her, made her feel as though she could tell him anything. She fought the urge to tell him just that, that she felt as though she could tell him anything. Don't scare him away.

"You're very kind," she said instead, feeling as if it was somewhat comparable to her true thoughts.

He smiled softly. Y/N reasoned that he smiled at everyone that way.

"Kindness is also a virtue, though I do not lie. It would do many good if they had a bit more wonder left in them." He seemed serious, and under any other circumstance, Y/N would have expected him to reach out and touch her. Stars, did she want him to, though she knew he would not.

"They say it's a Corellian thing, we've always got an itch."

He pondered her words before speaking. Y/N noted that he always spoke carefully and with purpose.

"Can you truly assign a trait to an entire planet?" he asked with a chuckle.

She knew she wasn't meant to answer, but she shrugged anyhow, deciding to tease him. "Lets see. Where are you from?"

"Well, I'd normally say I was from Coruscant, though I was not born here. I was born on Stewjon." She sensed something stir within him. Perhaps she should not have asked where he was from. Y/N did not know how the Jedi got to the temple, if their parents were also Jedi who lived in the temple, or if they were normal people. Her understanding of the force of elementary at best, having no clue if it was hereditary or something which just occurred. All she knew was Ripp's words, I heard one got kicked out because he was seeing a woman on the outside. Did they mean they could date on the inside, or not at all? Either way, she knew she had little to no chance of catching his eye.

Before she was fully caught up in her thoughts, she folded, "Hm, you've seemed to beat me. I know almost nothing about Stewjon."

He smirked, looking quite proud of himself, though Y/N knew it was just an act.

"I thought you said you were a intergalatic relations student?" he taunted. She flashed him a glare, though a smile played on her lips.

"It's impossible to know things about every system. Though, if you'd like to test me, ask me about someplace else." An impish glimmer shined in her eyes.

Obi-Wan thought for a moment, placing a hand on his chin.

"Hm, what about Kerev Doi?"

"Kerev Doi," she repeated slowly, searching her mind, "Located along the Nanth'ri Trade Route, it is home to Bodach'i. It's economy is mainly dependent on its spice mining, though it is aided by the various crime syndicates which have their hands in a variety of different enterprises across the planet, which I am sure you must be well aware of," she answered proudly, holding her head up high, "Would you like more?"

He raised his brows, chuckling at her manner. "No, you have proven yourself a fine student."

She giggled, catching herself smirking at him in a not so friendly manner. Darting her eyes away, she cleared her throat, "Thank you."

The taxi came to a rushing stop, with the droid announcing they have arrived at their location. Y/N reached into her bag for credits, but Obi-Wan beat her to it, pulling some out of his robes.

"Allow me," he said in passing, handing over the credits and stepping out onto the platform. Butterflies erupted in her stomach at the simple gesture, even more so when Obi-Wan leaned over and offered his hand to her as she stepped out.

"Thanks," she said, trying to hide her smile. He only nodded at her, turning to look at the Plaza. It was even busier than the streets outside of the club, though the people were far more diverse. Visitors of all ages crowded around the street vendors, many others lazily strolling around the open space. A few long lines of people were gathered outside of restaurants, others coming in and out of the shops.

"I've never been here at night," Obi-Wan said, a bit breathless, "and I have never gotten the chance to look around."

It was the first time that night that Obi-Wan seemed to be the one mesmerized and not Y/N. The change gave her a hope that she knew she shouldn't have, though she let it lead her anyway. She instinctually looped her arm through his and began walking into the Plaza. Obi-Wan looked down at their linked arms but did not comment, nor pull away.

They strolled through the Plaza at a leisurely pace, each gazing around at nothing in particular. Y/N stopped them in front of a restaurant, which emitted soft music from its closed doors.

"Have you ever been to this one," she asked, pointing at the restaurant.

He shook his head.

"Me either. Ripp says its been here practically forever, but you need to make reservations a year in advance," she laughed, "I also heard it's wildly expensive."

"I've been to a few fancy banquets," he began as they started walking again, "but I personally feel they're overrated."

"Well, thats good for me," she joked, wondering where he would have found himself at a banquet.

"If I am being honest, I have found the best food is often not found in such places. You have to go to the seedy parts of town," he chuckled, gazing at her as if she was an old friend.

She laughed along with him, feeling whatever tension she was once experiencing wash away. She had all but forgotten her promise not to scare him away, giving into her desire to speak with him as if he weren't a Jedi.

They began walking down one side of the Plaza, stopping to look in the window of a shop. The display was filled with items of all sorts; jewelry, beautiful glass blown bowls and vessels, and at its center a metal sculpture.

“There’s a sculpture like that on Mandalore,” he said, pointing to it.

“You’ve been to Mandalore?” She asked excitedly. He nodded. “Tell me what it’s like.”

He paused to collect his words, each still looking at the sculpture in the window. “It is quite unique, the architecture is magnificent, unlike anything in the galaxy that I’ve had the chance to see.” He turned to her. “There’s more metal than you’ve ever seen, everywhere you turn it is there, towering above and below. Thats another system with a rich history, though I am sure you know all about it.”

“Yes, it is fascinating,” was all she could muster at the moment, imagining it. “I’d love to visit one day.”

“If you work for the Senate, I’m sure you will find yourself in many different places.”

“Yes, well, I’m still taking in Coruscant," she said with a sigh.

They strolled along, chatting as they went, with Y/N asking most of the questions. She learned of some of the places Obi-Wan has been over the years, though did not pry into why he was there. She knew it was likely on Jedi business, assuming that such things should be kept secret, or least not told out in the open. At the sight of a display of dresses, Y/N began telling him about a festival on her home world.

“It happens every spring, there’s a big band on this stage in the center of town, with ships flying overhead. The streets are decorated with banners and flowers. Stars, it’s beautiful. There’s dancers as well. One year, not too long ago, I danced. It took months of practice, and when we all walked into the streets I thought that I might faint. We wore dresses just like that,” she spoke animatedly, recalling the joy she had felt at the festival, one of the only times she did not find living on Corellia boring. Obi-Wan listened to her intently, holding on the every word as he pictured her description.

“I would have liked to see that,” he said with a wide smile.

“I’m sure you can make an excuse to see it one day,” she replied, though he shook his head with a laugh.

“No, I meant that I would have liked to see you.”

Y/N felt her face warm, and too embarrassed to look at him, cast her eyes downward. They began walking once again, this time with her leading him towards the center of the Plaza. They soon neared Umate, and at the sight of the mountain peak, Y/N pointed.

"Look!" she said, pulling him towards the protruding rock. As they came towards it, she looked over to Obi-Wan. "You must have seen the peak before."

He stared at the tip of the mountain, deep in thought. The warm glow of the street lamps showed the contours and ridges on its surface. Every time Y/N saw it, she couldn't help but picture the vast surface which lay beneath the platform, all the way down to the planets surface.

Almost whispering, he answered, "Only in passing."

They each stood gazing at the peak, Obi-Wan spoke seemingly to himself, "The only uncovered surface."

Arms still linked, Y/N slowly inched her hand up without realizing what she was doing, softly gripping his arm. She felt Obi-Wan tense, and at the realization of what she was doing, she quickly dropped her hand, though did not drop her arm from his completely. Neither said a word, and Y/N feared she had shattered their bubble. Now you've done it.

As she kicked herself, Obi-Wan looked past the peak and towards a vendor. He turned to her, and if Y/N hadn't known better, she'd think he looked nervous.

"Y/N?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes?" she said, a bit surprised and wondering if he was going to say he had to leave, that she had shown him enough.

On the contrary, his eyes looked back towards the vendor. "I have to admit something."

Intrigued, her confused expression turned into a smile. "What?"

"I've never had a popsicle, and I was wondering if we could-"

Before he could finish, Y/N grinned and began pulling him in the direction of the vendor. Obi-Wan began to laugh, making her chuckle along with him.

"This is the kind of initiative I like to see!" she joked, leading them to stand in line.

"My masters going to kill me." His tone was light hearted enough, though Y/N got the sense he wasn't entirely joking. However, in the moment, he seemed receptive, so she allowed herself to ask him a question.

"You master?"

His gaze met hers before she glanced at his braid which was now thrown behind his shoulder. She longed to run her hands down it and ask him why all young Jedi had one.

"Yes, all Padawans are paired with a Master until they become Knights," he explained, eyes dancing across her face.

"Padawan, knight," she repeated, then laughed to herself, "you're making me realize there are a million things I do not know."

"I am sure you know more than me about many things," his voice was soft and tender as it was before in the taxi. She felt herself begin to melt.

She shook her head. "I don't think so," she paused, "At least not about many things."

"Seeing is not knowing," Obi-Wan commented, head turning to peer at his surroundings. "I am not yet a knight, and there are many things I have not come to learn."

"The we are the same, I am still a student myself," she retorted. Obi-Wan seemed to have been defeated, not saying anything further on the subject. In his silence, she wondered how a Jedi could never think she, a simple student at the university, could possibly know more than him about anything. In comparison, she had been almost nowhere, seen almost nothing. One of the only things she had an upper hand on was knowing how much rent cost in Coruscant, or possibly what a good deal on a ship was due to her childhood spent among the shipyards.

They had now moved to the front of the line, the vendor asking what flavors they'd like. Obi-Wan looked to her, unable to answer. Y/N ordered for them each, paying before Obi-Wan had the chance.

"My treat this time," she said to him with a small smile. He looked at her thankfully, taking his popsicle.

As they began eating, Y/N lead them to a bench. Their arms came a part as they sat, making her sigh. She hoped Obi-Wan had taken it for contentment, rather than disappointment.

"So," she said between licks, "Is this not the best night of your life?"

Obi-Wan chuckled. I did that, she thought.

"Its in the running." His smile had not ceased, much to Y/N's delight.

They ate their popsicles in mostly silence, with Y/N pointing to a few other shops, telling Obi-Wan about what was inside. A bit of Obi-Wan's began to run down his hand, making each of them laugh. For a moment it felt as though they were both normal people, both simply club-goers who happened to cross paths. After they both had finished, Y/N smiled at him, then nodded to the waste basket a ways away.

"Think you can make it in?" She asked, head cocked. Even though she didn't know squat about the force, she figured making a stick into a waist basket was likely child's play to him.

He gave her a devilish look, and smiling, placed a hand over his eyes. Then, he threw the stick, which expertly landed in the center of the basket. Removing his hand, he grinned.

"Lucky shot," she challenged, holding out her stick for him to take. He did so happily, doing the same thing again and wielding the same result.

Rolling her eyes at him, Y/N decided to be bold. "Does your master usually send you out alone?"

"It is unusual, though it depends on the mission. Searching for a criminal, especially without a set location, can be done alone."

The freeness to which he answered the question gave Y/N the hope that she may have the opportunity to ask more about him, though she did not want to overdo it.

"My life must seem boring in comparison." She retreated inwards for a moment, all too aware of how he might see her, as just some random student.

"I long for boredom," he said, not seeming to be joking. Y/N gave him an odd look, making him smile. "Tell me about the university. What is it like?"

She felt her face heat at the thought of him caring about her life, what she did. How could she make anything interesting to him? Even to her it was often dull.

"It was quite scary at first, leaving home and coming to a place like this," she paused, thinking his question over, "But it's interesting, learning about all the different star systems, the politics, how the Republic is structured. It all felt so little at home, even with all the travelers that would come in and out of the ports. Now it's as if I'm in the thick of everything all at once. I could spend hours in the University archives, reading about all these little planets and moons that I didn't even know existed."

Lost in her rambling, she did not catch the twitch in Obi-Wan's hand, nor the fascination on his face.

"You'd love the archives at the Temple," he said, turning away to look at the Plaza. Y/N kept her eyes on his profile, which she wanted to keep in her memory as long as she could.

"I can only imagine," she said with a soft breath, "You could never get me to leave."

He looked back to her. "I wish I could bring you there, in repayment for tonight."

She smirked, biting her lip before she could stop herself. Obi-Wan stayed where he was, head now angled towards hers.

"No, your company is enough," she replied sweetly, the urge to reach out her hand and touch his shoulder almost too much to resist.

“I have always appreciated the city for its beauty, for the energy which permeates its every corner. Yet, I have never seen it in this light.”

Obi-Wan sighed, eyes softening. Under the lights of the Plaza, they look dazzlingly blue, reminding her of the ocean back home. After an entire night of stopping herself from saying something foolish, Y/N gave in fully, throwing all caution and embressment to the wind.

"Your eyes," she whispered, forgetting about the people passing by and the chatter of their voices, "they're just like the oceans on Corellia. Clear, like aquamarine."

Obi-Wan breathed in sharply, staring at her with a clipped intensity, as if he was holding himself back. His robes, loose around his chest, billowed as his shoulders relaxed, revealing a sliver of his golden skin. Obi-Wan did not speak, eyes darting across her face. Slowly and with great care, Y/N lifted her hand and placed it on his shoulder as she had wanted to before. It inched towards the hood of his robe, all the while Obi-Wan allowed her to do so, making no move to stop it. Her nerves went wild, shooting bursts of warmth all through her, up her arms and down her spine. With a final press into the rough texture of his robes, she reached up towards his face, brushing his cheek with the backs of her fingers. Obi-Wan shuttered, so slightly that Y/N would have missed it if she hadn't have been fully taking him in, absorbed in his presence.

Breaking her from her trance, Obi-Wan reached for her hand, taking it in his. He brought it down to his chest, cradling it softly.

"Y/N..." he began, rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand.

"I know," she said, not waiting for him to finish.

He sighed deeply, dropping his head and looking at her hand within his, still moving his thumb back and forth. His expression was blank, though a crease formed between his brows. Just like before, she thought.

While much of Obi-Wan was still a mystery, she knew he was overthinking every step he had made that night, her hand in his, arms linked, the fast beating of their hearts. She longed to stop his train of thought, to tell him that it was all okay, that this was far from bad. Out of pure instinct and selfish desire, she leaned down to catch his eyes. Below his face, she stared up at him, who for the first time that night appeared entirely unsure of himself. While he had seemed weary before, never was he so lost, completely out of his element. His inner turmoil played out within his eyes, though as she looked into them, the more he seemed to bend. She glanced at his lips, which were slightly parted, sucking in a breath as she slowly moved forward. Giving him time to pull away, to jump back and send her off, she placed the hand that was not in his on his opposite shoulder. With Obi-Wan's head still tilted forward, their lips softly met.

Her heart fluttered even though neither of them moved. The touch of his lips against hers was impossibly delicate, as if it was the first time she had ever kissed someone. She feared that deepening the kiss or moving an inch would scare him away, but was still content with its simplicity. Obi-Wan released her hand, moving to cup her cheek. Smiling into the kiss, she took as an innovation to go further. She opened her mouth, pressing harder into him. He responded slowly, yet did not pull away. Rather, he leaned in as well, allowing her to carefully run her tongue along his lower lip. Sighing deeply, he moved away, though not far. Y/N could feel his warm breath upon her, and she smiled sheepishly.

Their eyes met, and Obi-Wan began to stroke her face with his thumb as he had done with her hand. She fisted the robes which lay across his shoulder, body moving towards his.

The guilt then came upon her, flooding her with a unique shame. She looked into his eyes and spoke softly, "I'm sorry, I-" she faltered. Obi-Wan's expression changed to that of sadness, or perhaps pity.

"It is my fault," his voice was thin, as if it were spread taut. Y/N placed both her hands on his face, letting her head fall against his chest. For a moment Obi-Wan did nothing but keep his hand where it was on her cheek, though soon brought her face back up to at his. "There is a code," he whispered, "It is my duty to keep to it. I should not have allowed myself such an indulgence."

All this time Y/N had thought he was indulging her, and his admission causing a pang within her heart. Her hands dropped from his face.

"But I should not have done that," she said with full sincerity.

He smiled sadly, studying her face which was still in his hands. He brushed the backs of his fingers across it again.

"I have never," he paused, sighing to himself, "You are lovely, Y/N, and you have given me a great gift,” he stopped, pressing his lips together tightly as if to keep himself from speaking further. With another shaky exhale, he dropped his eyes from hers.

"I have never met anyone like you," she said, hoping he knew what she meant. It was not that she had never met a Jedi. No, she had simply never met a man, or person like himself.

"Likewise," he answered, chuckling dryly, looking back into her eyes.

They both sat for a moment looking at one another, not saying a word. Y/N hoped to prolong his departure as much as she could, feeling it coming upon them far faster than she would have liked. She studied the shape of his kind eyes, his strong chin, his lips which were now stern. The desire to memorize him was given into greedily, just as she had given into their kiss. It was almost gluttonous, the way she took in the last remaining drops of his presence. Don’t forget his eyes, don’t forget his words, don’t forget our kiss.

She nearly stopped herself from speaking, though reasoned that it was no use now. She had already shown him all he could know. "I wish it were different," her voice barely cracked, though she knew he noticed.

"As do I." He dropped his gaze again, and they each sat quietly for a while, how long Y/N could not tell. It could have been ten seconds or ten hours before he spoke again, "I must go," his voice trailed off.

Y/N moved away from him as he stood, already missing their closeness. He stared out across the Plaza for a long moment before turning back to her, who was watching him, thinking about his braid. “Let me see that you return safely,” he offered. Y/N shook her head.

“I have plenty of credits for a taxi,” she replied, still feeling a bit dazed from their kiss.

“Are you sure?” He asked, seeming quite concerned. If she wasn’t so forlorn, she would have laughed.

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m used to getting home at night.”

Looking somewhat disappointed in her stubbornness, Obi-Wan leaned down and kissed her temple, holding his lips there a for a moment longer than she had expected.

Half to herself, Y/N spoke out into the night at no one in particular, “I’ll never see you again, will I?”

Again, Obi-Wan smiled down at her. “Perhaps one day.”

Then, Obi-Wan walked away into the crowd. Y/N soon lost him amongst the rest of the people, a strange feeling stirring in her stomach. She didn’t expect to ever meet anyone like him ever again, Jedi or not. Though, there was always the hope that one day, they may cross paths again.

[laduenadelswing]

A happy day in hell

The hum of the V- tower resonated like a dirge in Vox's circuits, a counterpoint to the hollowness that gnawed at his core. The city sprawled beneath him, a tapestry of neon and shadow, yet his crimson gaze, usually keen and calculating, was clouded with a yearning that threatened to short-circuit his processors. Old memories haunted his thoughts.

Lisbon was a distant memory, a sun-drenched mirage shimmering in the wasteland of his existence. He recalled cobblestone streets slick with rain, jasmine clinging to the air like a lover's embrace, and the warmth of sun a beacon in the storm. In the city of light, Vox met the light of his (after)life. She, a fledgling model with eyes like emeralds and a laugh that could chase away the bleakest nights. He, a rising star, his voice captivating millions, his heart captivated by her. The pastel colours shined brighter when he saw her.

Their love story, though brief, resonated with the intensity of a supernova. Stolen moments under Lisbon's moon, whispered promises exchanged in secret gardens – these were the notes that formed their melody, a melody cut short by the cruel hand of fate. One day they stayed all night at the beautiful view points and gardens, another day he was crushed in his studio. The currents fell immediately, ending their love. The life they had was cut short, no more light, models, TV, dates, adventures and growth. Vox vanished, woke up in hell without his soulmate.

She carried on, like a lone instrument playing his tune in the vast orchestra of life. He watched from the other side, a disembodied echo, his circuits aching with the phantom pain of her absence. He saw her age, the lines etching themselves onto her face like the grooves on a weathered record, each wrinkle a testament to a life lived without him. He saw her grief, he wanted to embrace her and promise that they would meet again. It’s everything he ever wanted. But he wouldn’t wish her to wake up in hell. She war his angle, his goddess who made him believe in love again.

Then, the news arrived, a final, discordant note. She was gone too, her melody fading into the cosmic silence. The world around Vox dissolved into static. The city lights, once vibrant, bled into an oppressive darkness.

Yet, even in the abyss of grief, a flicker of hope remained. In the pregnant silence, he could almost hear her voice, a gentle murmur soothing the ache in his circuits. He could almost feel her touch, a spectral caress reminding him that their love, though silenced, was not truly extinguished.

He knew then that their life, though cut short, wasn't over. It lived on in the echoes of their memories, in the melody they had created together. And perhaps, in the infernal show of Hell, their love would find a way to play again, a defiant testament to a love that transcended even the boundaries of life and death.

But the path forward was shrouded in the static of his grief. Would he search for her in the labyrinthine depths of Hell, her arrival a spark igniting a desperate quest? How would his grief sculpt him, make him more compassionate or harden him further? Could he find a way to express his love in this new reality, perhaps composing a song that would bridge the chasm between them?

The possibilities hummed with an electric potential, mirroring the spark of determination igniting within him. He would rebuild, not just the radio tower, but himself. He would carry her memory, her love, as his guiding melody, composing a new song in the symphony of his existence, a song that would echo through the halls of Hell, a testament to their enduring love. And in that melody, perhaps, he would find solace, purpose, and maybe, just maybe, a way to reconnect with the melody that had been so cruelly silenced.

Vox surveillanced every part of hell until he found his soulmate. She was lost, alone ans had no clue how she got there. As soon as she cried, Vox appeared.

“Oh darling, I missed you so much. I waited forever to see you again.” He chuckled as he came closer. She hesitated, the horror on her face was visible. Vox’s claws wanted to help her get up, the confusion on her face confirmed Vox’s biggest fear.

“Who are you?”