#the neat backward singing

[elektroblues]

speaking of en............this video....

[localicecreambiter]

beware the yappening

if you saw me post this, no you didnt

I hate tumblr mobile

IF IT WASNT CLEAR BY THE SPIKE IN FOUR SWORDS CONTENT ITS BEEN ON MY MIND LATELY!!! so obviously that means the obligatory redesigns >:) I tried not to play too far into the stereotypes (not that there's anything wrong in indulging in those!!... i did throw in headcanons tho, like heightened and dulled senses... ill explain dw)

we'll start with shadow since I kinda forgot to draw him initially, lol. sorry buddy 😥 I gave him a shard of the mirror as a means of being able to exist. he can still float around and slip into the shadows and all, but he's not as powerful as he was when the mirror was full. (his ego definitely still is big though) he's not fond of chainmail despite the rest of the four and Link wearing it. his tunic mirrors what links would've looked like. any triforce motifs appearing upside-down and little swirl on his belt backward since he's from the Dark World and all that jazz. silly stuff. I kept it relatively simple since I doubt Link is very over the top, and Shadow has no sense of bodily autonomy at that point (he would so have an over the top outfit, let's be real) Obviously he gets along well with Vio, but he and Blue banter quite a bit. Sure, both mistakenly get offended sometimes but it's all in good fun! His hair looks a little more rounded here, but it's usually more flowey and sticks up every which way. unruly hair for an unruly boy. shadow loves quality time!!! what could be better than hanging out with those you love and burning down towns??? okay, void the town burning.

Red's design is also fairly simple: longer skirt, exposed chainmail, sleeved tunic, and a rounded collar. he has a rounder shape language (not that I paid too much attention to it, obviously) his hat curls up where the elemental stone is at. no one understands how it does this. Red thinks it's some knick knack he stored in there. UNNATURALLT WARM. like. concerningly warm. He's their magic user, preferring to use his magic rod over his sword (honestly, probably could wipe the floor with the other three if given a good magic item, but don't tell them that)(and yes im calling it a magic rod cuz it shoots fire and ice) Poor Red got the short end of the stick with poor hearing but great taste buds. He's a foodie at heart and it's obvious why. His hair is a lot fluffier and rounder than the other three, matching his soft and bubbly personality. Not a pant wearer. Obviously he has the magic rod and slingshot, but i also gave him the Bombos medallion since its an item in the FSA game. Green suggested they split the loot evenly. No. He's not allowed to use it. Yes, he's accidentally blown up a lot of things with it. That's why hes not allowed to use it. definitely a physical touch kinda love language guy. you know exactly why. impulsive spender. has quite a few burn scars from learning to use the fire rod. most of his tunics are a little singed, but he keeps some neat

ah, Green, the resident insomniac. usually that's Vio's role, but you cannot tell me this guy didn't get Link's terrible sleeping habits. he constatly looks sleep deprived in some compacity, but he's getting better! sure, it usually means someone has to hold him down until he sleeps but hey! better than nothing! his tunic matches most Links with the sleeved overtunic and collared undershirt. he uses he sword quite often, having the most finesse with the weapon out of the group. occasionally he'll bust out the boomerang. sort of the unofficial leader, keeping the group on track, but is always open to suggestions from the rest of the Colors. I gave him the Pegasus boots, since I'd assume they all don't get the loot they would've picked up along the way. His element is wind, so it felt the most fitting he had them. his hair is a little messy, and sure he sometimes has a stick in there, but he does his best to keep it combed. Despite his drowsiness, he's got sharp eyes (the best in the group, as a matter-of-fact!) Unfortunately, his sense of smell is lacking (but clearly he has it a lot better than Red does. I mean, seriously, id take hawkeyes over tasteaholic any day). Hes a little shit when playing Ispy; typically picking really tiny things and reveling in the fact no one can guess it. his elemental stone is attatched to his belt even though its a place it can get easily lost. somehow he has yet to lose it. the back problems arise from Link, mostly, though his isnt as bad as Vio's (maybe because hes not slouched over a desk half the time, but i digress) Typically level headed and focused, keeping the group moral high with Red (aka, keeping Vio and Blue's moral high because they tend to be more pessimistic) (well, Vio considers himself a realist and Blue is Blue)

since i dont consider Shadow that much of an idiot, Vio probably had to actually stab Green to make it look convincing. While the scar isn't big, there's once on his lower abdomen from the Four Sword. They didn't have any health potions, so they had to go back down the mountain to get him help. Green holds no resentment, knowing Vio did what had to be done to gain the enemies trust. the cheek scar is from the pyramid cuz there aint no way he got out of that unscathed fighting against Valenzuela. more of a words of affirmation guy, but enjoys quality time like the rest of them.

Vio is obviously their whittier member. honestly, if he were to be described in DnD stats, he'd have a high intelligence and a medium wisdom because man is this man stupid sometimes. he's not as outwardly arrogant as Blue, at least, not as loud with it. his clothes are usually wrinkled, being more focused on bookwork than much else (this pisses Blue off to no end, being the neat freak he is) despite this, his room is the definition of organized chaos. he knows where everything is, and if you move something, he will not be happy. also not a pant wearer, his tunic has a longer skirt than the others and his sleeves are a lot looser. his hair tends to droop into his eyes and somehow this has yet to get in the way. he prefers to pick off enemies from afar as the team's bowsman. amazing aim and a very steady hand. while he doesn't have as big of a magic reserve as Red, he can still use elemental arrows (probably in the same way as in WindWaker) strangely bad at math (simply because i find it amusing) and is pissed that Blue is good at is (again, because i find it amusing. it freaks Blue out) Vio is more of an acts of service kind of guy, but like everyone else enjoys quality time. especially when it's quiet quality time. impuslive spender, mostly on books. everyone else insists he uses the library, but he argues its different when you own the book. impecible hearing, cannot taste shit. it makes eating rations easier, but sadly cannot enjoy the nicer foods in life, so he tends to choose things based on texture. Got the brunt of the back pain, but makes it worse with how he sits and for how long he does. honestly has a weird complex where he thinks of himself as superior to the rest in a way, yet also manages to struggle to fit in and hates himself for it. not explicitly touch avoident, but hes not one to seek out physical affection often and tends to be one of the first to push Red off (other than Blue) his stone is pined to his bow holster since he tends to always have it on him, he wont lose it that way. the fact that the rest have theirs in such irresponsible spots upsets him. refuses to sleep until he's done something he considers productive.

last but not least: Blue! my favorite guy!! god what a prick, i hate him. his design is a lot more knightly with more chainmail and a brutish sort of look. he's intimidating alright, even at his 4'11 stature. look. hylians are short. his hair is spikey like his personality and his hat is more angular (mostly cuz he folds it everynight. theres permanent crease marks in it) ends up with the most scaring thanks to his irrisponsible sparing and little use of healing potions (yet despite this, he's the group medic) the nick in his ear was from some random enemy camp that he just ignored for a while. I never said he was a responsible medic when it came to himself. hes mean, sure, but hes trying. just a little blunt. okay, very blunt. very blunt and very angry. hear me out: mom friend. if that mom was divorced and had anger issues. he knows the others are fully capible of handling themselves, cuz if he survives, why shouldn't they? despite that, he still worries. I know that it says his left eye is blind, but he can still see some color, its just reaaal blurry. does anyone know that? only red. will he tell anyone else? not unless he has to. does he run into shit when hes not paying attention. sometimes, yeah. to top it off, he - like red - got the short stick with shit vision but a heightened sense of smell. he can smell a monster camp from up to a mile away. impressive, right? dont tell him that. this boy has a lot of injury issues, being as reckless as he is. the knee injury was from a particularly nasty moblin (possibly the same as where the eye scar came from. who knows? he wont tell) and got worse as it got ignored. look, when you're the medic, you gotta make sure everyone else is okay before you. at least, thats how Blue sees it. not to even mention the nerve damage from being frozen for god knows how long. I don't know about you, but (assuming it was a Wizrobe) being magically frozen has its side effects. so what hes a walking icepack (exaggerating, but he's cold enough outwardly that you can feel it) and so what his hair grows in a few shades lighter than everyone elses? they don't gotta know why or when or how or even that it happens. the hair dye is stashed under his bed and he will die if anyone finds out. it reeeally fucked with his magic, seeing as hes associated with the water element.. do green and vio know about any of this? nope. red was sworn (read: threatened) to silence. probably the most physically fit when split, and makes sure to take good care of his body. he likes to push himself, hence the ankle weights. always has to be doing something productive. hes their financial guy, somehow having the least impuslive spending habits. will typically only spend on necessary things. gets mad at the others for buying egregiously expensive recreational shit. (that umbrella shadow has? yeah. expensive as hell. he was not happy) the most touch avoident of the bunch. unexpectedly, blue is a gift giving guy. he gets embarassed about it when you question it, or even when hes giving it to you, but yeah. he likes giving things to people and then will throw insults at their face. not in a mean way. in a "im embarassed and you suck so shut up" way. quality time is something he enjoys as well, liking to spar with his brothers often. can easily master a lot of melee weapons, its impressive, but cannot for the life of him make anything else work. his stone was made into an earring, and despite vio's complaints, he usually knows when its missing.

[sentientcave]

Heavy Weighs the Crown

Chapter 4 - Left Hand Woman

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Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, No Y/N, Gryphon time, A spot of magic, No one knows how to communicate, I've given up on any semblance of reader neutrality, sorry, Sweetpea is her own woman and you are just along for the ride, Farah is here now! We love Farah

~7.2k words - MDNI

Someone sends a young woman from the staff to help you dress the next morning. She’s shy and mousy-haired, and you have to ask her what her name is twice before she haltingly tells you that it’s Tiphanie. She goes entirely pink when you tell her that you think it’s a very pretty name, and that you hope you’re not pulling her away from anything more important.

“I’ve been tidyin’ your room, highness,” she says turning even pinker. “Or, um, tryin’ to. You leave things so neat there’s been nothin’ for me to be doin’.”

“I’m used to living on my own,” you explain. “I’ve been in charge of keeping my own space tidy for years now.”

“On your own?” Tiphanie asks, aghast. “But your wicked father sold you away to the giants in the mountains so they’d help him in the war, and they kept you in a cage and made you sing to them like a songbird, until Sir Ghost came flyin’ in on his gryphon and rescued you.”

Is that how they’ve explained your absence? You unwrap your hair, laughing. “Oh goodness, no. I was living in a town not all that far from here. Out in the country. Not sold off or captured by anyone.”

“Well, then what was sir Ghost gone so long for, if he wasn’t travellin’ through the wastes and fightin’ monsters lookin’ for you?” she asks, blinking at the cloud of tightly curled hair you’ve let down, like she’s not entirely sure if she should be doing something about it. “He’s been gone three years, and then he came back with you— If you’re tryin’ to put on a brave face about it, I understand, highness, but what you’re sayin’ don’t make any sense. You wouldn’t’ve stayed away so long if you was just a few towns away.”

It’s a bit funny that she’s so insistent that it makes more sense that you’d been held captive in the distant mountains than simply living your life peacefully close by, but you have to admit, it’s certainly the more compelling story. “Well, the giants made me keep my own room tidy,” you say, splitting your hair into three segments so you can braid it down your back in one thick plait. “I only had to sit in the birdcage when they were entertaining guests.”

“I knew—” she cuts herself off with a little yelp, catching sight of movement at the window.

You glance over, and it’s just Nox, landed on the balcony, shaking her wings out. “Thank you for your help, Tiphanie,” you say, smiling at her reassuringly. “I should say hello to Nox.”

She nods, wide-eyed, and gives you a wobbly curtsy as you step out to the balcony.

“Hello, my darling,” you croon to Nox, holding your arms out. She presses herself against your chest, making a strange, warbling purr as you scratch behind her tufted ears. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you yesterday, pretty girl.”

If she's offended by your negligence, she doesn’t hold a grudge. She hops backward and gently tugs at one of the loose curls around your face, cawing happily at the way it bounces back into shape when she lets go, wiggling her wings a little playfully.

“Sweetpea, we’re down ‘ere, whenever you’re ready,” Ghost calls up from the courtyard. When you look over the edge, you can see that all four of them are down there, sitting around a table you hadn’t noticed before. “Nox’ll ‘op down with you.”

“One second,” you tell Nox, giving her one last scratch under the chin before you dash back inside for the book Kyle lent you. When you return to the balcony, she kneels down enough that you can climb onto her back carefully, and straightens up once you’re settled in place. Inky black wings spread out on either side of you, and she jumps into the air, headed upwards rather than down like you expected, her strong legs landing lightly and launching off the low roof on the other side of the courtyard, wings catching the wind. Your stomach plummets on her first leap, and you grip the saddle tightly, terror closing your throat tightly against the scream that builds up inside your chest.

Wind rushes in your ears, the sound of your heartbeat the next loudest thing. You take a steadying breath and open your eyes to a picture of the castle, and the city beyond, laid out below you, towers as small as a child’s toy blocks, the river coiled around the eastern bank of the city, glittering like a serpent in the morning light. Nox’s wings are huge fully spread out, and when you twist in the saddle, you see that her back legs are stretched out behind, her big paws tilting one way or the other, adjusting her flight the way a true raven’s tail feathers would. She tips her whole body slightly to the side, starting a slow, circling descent, calling out joyfully, her rough croaks echoing eerily back to you, the sound bouncing off of the stone below. For a moment, it sounds like there’s a whole flock of gryphons, rather than just Nox.

You wonder if she’s lonely, being the only one here.

Nox settles back in the courtyard and sticks her beak in the fountain while you try to dismount. Your legs don’t fully cooperate, and you slide sideways out of the saddle, the returned grasp of gravity unkind and unrelenting. Solid arms catch you before you hit the ground, scooping you out of the air with one arm behind your back and the other under your knees.

“There you are,” John says soothingly. “You want some tea, love?”

You nod, still too frozen to insist on him putting you down. You’re not certain your legs will hold you.

“Nox, you naughty girl, you were just supposed to ‘op down! What if you’d dropped ‘er, eh? You’d be feelin’ pretty sorry about it now, wouldn’t you?” Ghost scolds the gryphon, standing next to her at the fountain, his hands on his hips. She just uses her beak to splash water at him in response, which earns her a pointed finger. “Oi! Don’t you sass me, you daft bird, she wun’t even buckled in.”

Nox deftly snatches the glove off of his hand and launches herself up to the roof, where she settles in on the tiles and pretends to gnaw on the leather, her cat’s eyes wide as saucers, tail twitching back and forth.

Kyle offers you a cup of tea and a smile that's on the shy side. You thank him, realizing a little too late that John has taken his seat with you still in his lap, his arms looped around you securely. “John,” you say sternly, twisting to look at him. “Did we not talk about this?”

“I don’t believe this was on your list of complaints, actually.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your temple, whiskers twitching as he smiles. "Besides, you're trembling. I know I behaved terribly yesterday, but all I want is to take care of you. Are you so afraid that you'll like it?"

"That's not what I'm afraid of. I think people are getting the wrong idea about what my presence here means, and cozying up to you will not help matters." You hold the cup and saucer a little bit apart, so that the rattle of dishes doesn't draw attention to the fact that you really are shaking, and would have spilled all over yourself if the cup was filled all the way up. Not that there would be any disguising the fact from John, the way he wraps around you. "You know that this will only complicate things."

“Did someone say something to you?” John asks.

You take a sip of tea, eyes tracking Ghost as he took the last seat at the table. Typical of them to invite you to a table with only four chairs. “Tiphanie, the girl that was sent to help me this morning? She didn’t say anything outright, but it certainly sounded like she expects that I’ll be staying. And something about me being held captive by giants. And that Ghost was gone for three years? What on earth were you doing all that time?”

Ghost shrugged. “Told you already. Was keepin’ an eye on you.”

“For three years?”

“Started off just droppin’ by, but figured it’d be better to stick around. Was.” He sits back in his chair and folds his hands together. “Din’t ‘ave nothin’ better to be doin’.”

“You did, actually,” John says tiredly. “You were supposed to be the commander of my knights. Had to train Keller up for it instead.”

“An’ ‘e’s a sight better at the job than I’d’ve been,” Ghost replies. “Did you a favour, din’t I?”

“Wouldn’t’ve found Sweetpea without him either,” Kyle points out. “And Alex is much better with people than Ghost has ever been. It probably was for the best.”

You glance at Johnny, uncharacteristically quiet across the the table. He meets your eyes only for a moment, and then looks down at his hands, frowning. You're not sure if this is because of yesterday, or if something else is bothering him. He sneaks another look up, and drops his eyes again immediately when he finds you still watching him.

If it is about yesterday, you're glad that at least one of them has the decency to be ashamed of themselves. Price isn't acting the least bit concerned. His fingers are dug into the top of your thigh firmly, and his thumb keeps tapping a rhythmless pattern against your hip, distracting and wholly inappropriate. Kyle won't quite meet your eyes, but he seems hopeful that you'll let it slide and forgive him if he’s careful to make no further waves.

You'll forgive all three of them from a distance once you go home. You want your life back. You’ll do a better job of seizing that freedom this time— you think you might finally work up the nerve to talk to the blacksmith's tall apprentice, with those coal dark eyes that always soften when he looks at you. You’ve thought him handsome for a long while, despite, or perhaps because of, the scars that ripple over his skin, and now that you know that he hasn't spoken to you because of Ghost's interference, you feel hopeful that he might— Oh. Of course.

It's choking, how tight a leash these men have put on you.

“Was there something that you all needed from me?” you ask stiffly. “Or can I go?”

“You need to eat something, first off,” John says, squeezing your hip lightly. “Then down to the city to have that dress fitted, and to meet with Farah.”

“When I requested a woman to accompany me, I was anticipating a longer stay,” you point out. “I’m sure I’ll be fine without a chaperone for the rest of the day, don’t you?”

“I’d allow that, if you’ll stick close to me.” John’s voice is practically a purr, his lips too close to your ear.

You imagine tossing your cooling tea into his face, which is almost as satisfying as actually doing it would be, and freer from consequence. “I will not.”

He laughs. “Then Farah it is. You’re angry with three of us, and I don’t trust Ghost alone with you.”

“What did I do?” Ghost asked, clearly offended by the notion.

You sigh, and resign yourself to being watched. Even if this Farah person answers to John, you’ll be glad for a few moments away from these unbearably pushy men.

“We can move our little lesson to this afternoon,” Kyle offers, brown eyes hopeful. “And I’d like to join you this morning too. It’s been a while since I popped down to visit Rosie.”

“Why not head there now?” John asks. “Get a visit in, make sure things are in order, and Ghost can bring Sweetpea on Nox in a bit, if she’s up for a proper flight.”

Kyle gets up without objection. “Yes sir. I’ll see you there, Sweetpea.” His eyes linger on yours for a long moment before he turns to go.

You lean forward to set your tea on the table, and push John’s arms away roughly, taking Kyle’s abandoned seat rather than remain in John’s lap for another moment. He smiles serenely when you glare at him from your new perch, as unaffected by your ire as a mountain would be by a single drop of rain.

You regret kissing him. You hate that he’s handsome and smug and insufferable. It frustrates you to end that there’s so much of you that wants to melt under his touch, that there’s a glacial, undeniable give to your resolve. Warmth spreads through you every time he puts his hands on you, every time he gives you that cheeky grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes.

He gives you one of those smiles as he picks up your abandoned tea cup and sips from it, his mouth where yours had been, watching you so that you know it’s no accident. Yet more heat curls in your belly, like the press of his lips against the rim of the cup can still reach you.

Hateful man.

You feel a little better once you’re sitting in Nox’s saddle again, pretending not to notice the way both Johns stare when you shift your dress out of the way and buckle your legs into the waiting straps. And when you wrap yourself extra securely around Ghost, pressing your whole body against his back, it’s certainly not because you want either of them to feel any kind of jealousy.

This time you’re better prepared for the leap skyward, and your stomach doesn’t remain somewhere on the ground below. With Ghost to cling to, you feel safer looking down, even if it does still send a jolt through you.

The world spreads out below, distant and beautiful, like a painting with minute brushstrokes. You can even see a glimpse of green fields beyond the spread of forest, a near glimpse of home. It seems so close from here, but still far out of reach. Nox begins her descent only a moment later, and the glimpse of the far countryside dips out of view again. She didn’t have to climb so high, but you appreciate that she did, that the gryphon is so keen to show you the world from her perspective.

Simon touches the back of your hands, where they’re clasped tight around his middle, thumb running across your knuckles. Your heart aches curiously. You want to pull his mask off and see if you’re right, if he really has been living in your town as Simon the blacksmith’s quiet apprentice, if he’s the owner of the brown eyes that sparked warmth in your belly whenever he looked at you.

Maybe, if he is (and you’re nearly certain of it), he’ll come with you, when you leave once more. You’re afraid to ask such a thing, to test the weight of his oath to protect you against his loyalty to John. And John… Well, that was never going to go anywhere, no matter how much his kiss shook you to the core. There’s no sense mourning a choice you never had. He would find a queen elsewhere, and you would all be happier for it.

Just one more day. You’ll be glad to leave this behind, won’t you? It’s not as though it feels like any kind of homecoming, to return to this cursed place.

There are a few shrieks from the street below as Nox swoops down and lands on the cobblestone, onlookers ducking behind carts and into alleyways, although all of the terrified faces relax somewhat when they recognize you and Ghost, and then fear is replaced with wide-eyed excitement, whispered conversations springing up around you as you lean down to unbuckle your straps. Ghost is faster with his, and hops down to help you with the straps on your other leg while you’re still working on the first.

He lifts you clear of Nox’s saddle, and the closest shop door opens. “Princess!” Kyle’s sister, Rosie, rushes out of the shop and embraces you. She’s as pretty as Kyle is handsome, with a beaming smile that creases her face in just the same way. “Goodness, it’s been years. How have you been?”

“Well,” you say. “Life outside the city has been good to me.”

“I see that. I was so glad to see that you’d gained weight, when Kate sent your measurements. We always worried about you when you were younger. No appetite.” She pulls back and cups your face fondly. “You really are a sight for sore eyes, my lady. It will be good for the people to see you again, to know that you’re well.”

Her enthusiasm surprises you. You had always rather liked Rosie, when she worked at the castle, but you hadn’t expected a greeting like this, after so long. “I hadn’t realized— I mean, my father—”

Rosie laughs, the movement of her head making the pile of coily curls on top of her head bounce slightly. “Did you think we counted you party to your father’s crimes? No, princess. You’ve always been loved. There isn’t a soul in this city, perhaps not even in the whole of the country, who isn’t glad to know you’re safe and hale.”

Your heart twists. You had expected indifference, that no one would care one way or the other if you were here or gone. You hadn’t even considered that the people would be disappointed that you aren’t planning to stay. It’s one thing, to say you wish to leave to Price, but another to say so to Rosie, and a heavy thought indeed, knowing you’ll make a speech over it tomorrow.

“Come on, in we go,” Ghost says firmly, motioning for you and Rosie to get inside. “Keep a look out, hey Nox?” The Gryphon makes a low, gurgling sound in response and sits on her haunches beside the door.

There's a prickle of magic in the air, but perhaps it's just Kyle, the energy that crackles around him wherever he goes. He stands next to a dress form with a beautiful dark green gown hanging off of it. It's off the shoulder, with pearly beads and clusters of embroidered leaves and flowers in a pale cream colour all around the neckline and the cuffs of the sleeves, giving way to beautiful lace. You think that maybe the colour difference is too stark— You would have chosen a more subtle accent— but you politely say nothing of it. Perhaps this is what's fashionable these days. You certainly won't ask Rosie to make a serious alteration like that with less than a day of lead time. You only have to wear the dress for a few hours anyway.

Rosie and one of her assistants shoo Kyle away, and start taking the dress off the form. Ghost joins Kyle on a bench on the other side of the room, his bulky frame taking up most of the available space. Another assistant ushers you into another room and begins helping you take off your dress and settle a few extra layers of petticoats over the ones you're already wearing.

The shop bell rings, and you hear Nox make a churring sound. "Hello," a woman says, her pretty, accented voice carrying through the space without growing too loud, like she naturally knows how to command attention. "Sir Garrick, Sir Ghost. Good to see you."

"Always good to see you, Farah," Kyle says pleasantly. “It’s been too long.”

“Hardly. We never see each other when times are good, Garrick.”

“Times are good now,” Kyle replies.

“Hm.”

You twist to look behind you, thinking about going back into the other room to introduce yourself, and Rosie accidentally stabs you with a pin. “Hold still, my lady,” she chides. “We’ll just be another moment.”

Farah pushes past the curtain and stalks into the room. She’s small, even shorter than you are, but she has a hunter’s lean to her stride, and a sword strapped to her back. She’s dressed practically, leather pauldron on her left arm pieced together with her bracer with a jack chain, nearly balanced on the other arm, but without the heavier pauldron, to keep her sword arm freer. Her leather breastplate is scarred from battle, but well-maintained, and a small hand-crossbow that glitters with magic hangs from her thick belt, along with a knife and a quiver of bolts. Her hair is braided back from her strong-boned face, and although her expression is serious, thick brows drawn into straight, unimpressed lines, her dark eyes have a curious glint in them. “Princess,” she says as you turn, earning yourself another pin-prick. “I am Farah Karim. I’ve been told you have need of me.”

“John insists that I’m not safe without a sword-wielding escort,” you say wryly. “I disagree, but his knights will hardly let me out of their sight as it is.”

“Could be assassins lurking about, my lady,” Rosie says, warm brown eyes wide and worried. “We would hate to lose you so quickly, after just getting you back.”

You glance at Farah, and spot the slightest flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You see what I’m dealing with?” you ask. “Everyone thinks I’m in terrible danger.”

“The danger likely comes tonight. With their envoy.”

You tip your head to the side. “No love for our neighbours, Commander?”

Farah huffs, crossing her arms and widening her stance reflexively. “No. My father’s lands are close to the border. I’ve seen the worst of them. While you were locked away in the palace, I saw villages burned, people slaughtered, foul magics leeching life from the very soil. You would be wise to be wary.”

“I suppose it’s naivete to think the peace can last.”

“No. It is hopeful. But you must project strength, or they will see that hope as weakness. Your cousin has given them leverage to oust John. So it falls to you to correct the course. We cannot fight another war amongst ourselves, or the wolves will be at our throats.” The challenge in her eyes is immistakable. Her perspective is valuable, and she offers it without pretense, as both warning an a test. Are you willing to listen? Or are you like so many others of your station, in your country and without, that only hear what they wish to hear?

“You don’t see minding me as beneath you?” you ask. “You lead a company of soldiers.”

Her lips curl into a smile. “My fighters are in good hands. Besides, I’m curious about you, princess. We might have been friends, had our paths not diverged. Perhaps we still can be.”

“I’d like that,” you admit.

Farah walks back out to speak with Ghost and Kyle while Rosie finishes marking adjustments. When you’re finally freed from the dress and get dressed again, Kyle and Ghost are both gone, and Farah is inspecting some spools of ribbon idly.

"I sent them home," she explains. "I suspect Ghost will be nearby and watching, but Gaz has gone back to his tower. He says he will be there all afternoon if you still wish to learn magic tricks from him." She wiggles her fingers vaguely, eyes creased with a smile.

"I think I should. It can't hurt to try."

"No. And it will give me a chance to go over castle wards and security."

Nodding, you bid farewell to Rosie and her assistants, and step out onto the street with Farah by your side. Nox is still waiting outside, basking in a block of sunshine. She stirs, getting up and stretching like a house cat, her feather-tufted tail lashing lazily behind her. You smile when Nox settles into her stride behind you and Farah, sticking her beak over your shoulder. You hook your fingers over the smooth black beak. “Just us girls, hey Nox?” you croon.

She churrs in response.

“The beast likes you,” Farah says approvingly. “Gryphons tend to be disagreeable, unless they’re hand-reared. Nox has famously bitten more than a few fingers.”

“Yours too?” you ask.

Farah laughs, shaking her head. “I know how to keep my hands to myself.”

“At least someone around here does,” you grouse.

“Price?” she asks, raising her thick brows. “Do you want me to speak with him?”

“I don’t think there’s much point. This will all be over soon enough.”

Farah frowns at that, her dark eyes studying you sidelong. “It doesn’t give him the right, no matter who he is to you. If he cannot behave, I will gladly remove a finger or two to remind him.”

“Really? I thought you were one of John’s people.”

“He may be the king, but I am not one of his sworn knights, nor am I a member of the army. He cannot command me, he can only ask if he wants something done,” Farah says, and there’s something in her tone that tells you that she’s had to remind John of this fact more than once. “If I am to be loyal to anyone in court, it will be you, and you alone.”

“Just like that?”

“I have a good feeling about you, princess. I think your people need you, and you will need allies of your own.”

Your stomach twists again. You’re beginning to doubt your resolution to leave. Maybe you really are needed here. Maybe you bring something vital that’s been missing for too long. Maybe things aren’t going as well as you had thought— You have to admit, your perspective is still limited, for all that you were living among ordinary citizens all this time. Your town is a prosperous one, along a good trade route, too far from any borders to face any significant dangers. There has been little strife, no awful storms, no disasters. This can’t be the case for the whole kingdom.

Maybe you should stay a few extra days, and go through the accounts and reports from the last few years, at least. If there’s something that’s been missed, you might have better eyes to find it. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing, to stay on just a few days more. Especially once you’d made your speech and no one was labouring under the idea that you’d be staying forever. It would be easier to speak to people if you really were no longer a princess.

On to better things, as John had said.

Maybe there’s a place here for you. Not as a queen, but an advisor. Something to speak to John about later, perhaps. You’re sure he’d be happy for an excuse to keep you close.

But then again, maybe not. It’s a bitter thought, but his interest in you is very likely just based in your lineage, your claim to the throne. He has no need to keep you close once you’ve pledged your support to him. Better to send you away, lest you rescind that support when you have a large enough disagreement.

John is nothing if not pragmatic. You’ll be no use to him by the end of the day tomorrow.

And that’s good. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To go home, to be left alone, to take upon yourself a destiny of your own, that has nothing to do with where you’re from, and everything to do with where you’re going next?

“How did you become a mercenary?” you ask. Better to think about something other than yourself before you drive yourself mad with what-ifs and maybes.

“My father arranged a marriage for me, and I wanted to be a knight, like my brother Hadir was in training to be. It was an argument. In the end, I saw only two paths. I could do what was expected, but I knew even as a girl that would not be tolerable. I was too proud of my skills, eager to fight and defend people that needed me. So I took the second path, and left my home. I started off as a sell-sword, mostly caravan work until Hadir left his knight-master to come work with me, and the two of us started making a name.” She gives you a wry smile. “My parents were none too pleased with Hadir either. But they still speak to him.”

“You don’t talk to them at all?”

“Once in a while they send me a letter to remind me that the man who wished to marry me still hasn’t found another. That he’s still open to the match.” She rolls her eyes. “I think if he hasn’t been able to find a wife in all this time, there’s a reason for it.”

You laugh lightly. She has a good point.

By the time the two of you meander back to the palace, you do feel like you’re fast friends. Farah has a way of opening up without having to say much at all, her dark, pretty eyes sincere. Maybe it's something shared between you, not words exchanged, but who you both expected to become, how you both were raised to be something you wanted no part of. Farah is bolder than you, decisive and candle-quick, and you are a slow trickle of water, always taking the path of least resistance, but somehow you were both born of the same stuff. You understand each other.

Nox flies off when you reach the castle gates, and Farah and you split at the foot of Gaz's tower, her off to meet with the knight commander, and you to see if there's anything that you can learn. The book that Gaz had lent to you had been easy reading, especially with the annotations in his neat, scratchy writing, and the first two chapters had been more reminder of what you already knew. The third was about disrupting and dispelling magic, which seemed like it would be a useful place to start your lessons. Even if you expect that greater magics will be beyond your grasp, you can protect yourself by disrupting spells used against you.

By the time you reach the workshop door, you’re a bit warm and out of breath, the countless spiraling steps more effort than you’d like to admit, especially after a walk through the city. Why Kyle liked it was apparent just from looking at him, but you have a softer physique, and you’ve become quite unused to stairs over the years away from the castle. There are very few buildings taller than two stories back in town. You halt outside the door to catch your breath, glancing out the narrow window, through the slight warping of uneven glass panes.

“Isna right, Gaz, and even ye know it!” Soap’s heated voice seeps through the door. Kyle’s response is too low to make out, but Soap’s next words are clear. “She deserves better! Been nothin’ but kind to us.”

“She’ll get over it, Soap. You know it’s for the best.”

“The best for himself, sure, but I dinnae ken if it’s best for her.”

You sigh, torn between the impulse to eavesdrop and knowing that it’s wrong to do so. It’s not difficult to surmise that they’re talking about you. It would explain the look on Johnny’s face this morning and the feeling that things are not quite right that has been worrying at you all day. Perhaps John does intend to make you stay on in some capacity, to prop up his rule, which would be contrary to everything you’ve said you want. It wouldn’t be all that difficult to get the truth of the matter out of Soap later however— He seems uncomfortable with any level of duplicity.

The knock on the door silences the low, indecipherable sound of Kyle’s response. You rub your knuckles idly as the door opens, the tingle of magic clinging to your skin like cobwebs.

“Hello, Sweetpea.” Kyle greets you with a big smile. “I’m glad you decided to come up. Did you get through the reading I gave you?” He throws a look over his shoulder at Soap that cleary says go away.

“I did. I read through the first three chapters— I was wondering if we could focus on dispelling magic? I’m familiar enough with the bare basics, and if I’m only going to have time for one lesson, this seems like a good place to focus.” You reach out to brush Soap’s shoulder as he moves past you. “Can we talk later?”

“Of course, bonnie,” Soap says. “I’m always at yer service.”

“If you go find Farah, she might appreciate any insights you have on castle security. I think she went to speak with the knight commander.”

“Aye, could be helpful there. Go’ a nose for these things.” He taps his nose, his grin tinged with relief that you don’t seem angry with him for yesterday. “We’ll talk later, then.”

You step into the workshop and he steps out, and Kyle closes the door between you. “Dispelling magic could be a good place to start… How are you at sensing magic? If you have a natural affinity for it we can breeze past the first half of the lesson.” He takes your hand and gently pulls you over to the circle of iridescent stone.

“I think I might— I get this prickle when there’s magic around. I can’t say I always notice it, but I haven’t always thought to pay attention.” You sit on the ground inside the circle, noticing the way the buzz of the workshop fades away once you’re fully inside it. “I’ve been paying more attention here. More magic to notice, I suppose.”

“And a new environment.” Kyle says. “It’s easy to get used to the ambient magic in familiar spaces. You’ll get more attuned to the castle the longer you stay.”

“I hope so. I get all tingly whenever we’re in a room together,” you say, laughing lightly.

He settles down across from you, close enough that his knees nearly touch yours. “You sure that’s just the magic?” he asks, flashing his pretty smile at you. “It could be something else.”

“Could it?” You give him a smile in return, but yours is sharp around the edges, reminding him to mind himself. You’ve gotten a little weary of the flirting— It’s more John’s fault than it is his, admittedly, but you’re just tired of all the attention. You don’t want to flirt, even if he is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and even if you really do like him plenty. You just want to learn a bit of magic, and it would be nice if he could focus. “Or do you think that maybe being handsome has skewed your perspective to think that every young man and woman you meet is attracted to you?”

“Could be that,” he agrees, unperturbed. “But no matter. Lets get to work.”

He runs through some breathing exercises, half-familiar ones that you remember the old wizard making you do for hours on end. Luckily Gaz seems satisfied with your control, and moves on quickly.

He asks you to keep your eyes closed while he sketches runes in the air, asking you to identify them. “It will help you sense when someone is sending a spell your way, or using magic in your vicinity,” he explains. “Knowing what’s going on is the first step to knowing how to dispel it.”

The first rune feels warm, and tastes oddly of smoke. “Fire,” you say easily. Kyle hums with approval, and sketches a new one. It’s cool, and drips down your spine. “Water?”

“Good. This one should be a bit trickier.”

It’s not. You’re familiar with light spells, you come across them more often than almost anything else. “Light.”

He runs through a few more. Earth, ice, moon, sun, shadow, music, metal, lock, key. All components of spells, and not spells on their own, each one leaving impressions on your skin, tastes on your tongue. Kyle seems more and more impressed as he works through his list, and you’re both laughing before long, enjoying a lesson that feels more like a game. “You have a knack for this. Figures the old wizard couldn’t see your talent— I had to fight him to get him to take me seriously too.” He clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “Let’s see… We can try an actual spell now. You can open your eyes, if you like.”

You open your eyes to look at him, pleased that he thinks you’re doing well. He smiles so prettily at you that at first you don’t notice the way magic curls around you, sliding up your neck like warm hands. You’re too distracted by the way Kyle smells, cedar and spice and ink and paper, the little scar just below his cheekbone, his wide hazel eyes fringed by thick lashes, the soft curve of his lips… You’ve always thought him handsome of course, you have eyes after all, but you’ve never wanted to kiss him so badly before.

It’s a charm spell. Something harmless for you to practice shredding apart. It makes sense for him to throw something innocuous at you, but he’s misjudged how much you already like him, and the charm is throwing you well past friendly suggestibility to wanting so badly that your hands tremble.

Knowing what it is, it’s easy to see how to unravel it, but you don’t really care to. It gives you an excuse to do something you want to do anyway. You pitch onto your knees and lean forward, bracing your hands on his thighs. His sweet, forest brown eyes widen with surprise, and he catches your face between his pretty, long-fingered hands, holding you back before you can kiss him.

“Wait,” he says quickly, his voice a quiet, anxious rasp. “It’s a charm spell, Sweetpea, I didn’t mean— You don’t really want to kiss me.” His fingers curl around your neck, like he’s fighting every instinct in him to hold you away and not draw you closer.

“Yes I do,” you say. “I just want to blame it on the spell.”

“Prove it,” he says.

It’s as simple as pulling a loose thread from knitting, unraveling magic that tastes sweet as fine white sugar on your tongue. Your cheeks burn, embarrassment settling in your stomach heavily. You should probably still be angry with him, you shouldn’t be thinking about how plush his mouth looks, or about how his pretty eyes fix on yours intently, the fire that he hides so neatly behind his quick-wit and natural charm rising to the surface. But you don’t move, and neither does he.

“We probably shouldn’t,” you say softly.

“Probably not,” he agrees.

And still, neither one of you tries to move away. He wets his lips, his gaze settling on your mouth. You swallow nervously. “Kyle—”

“Hells,” he says, angling his head slightly and closing the distance, slow enough that you could pull away, but quickly enough that he won’t lose his nerve halfway. His mouth is as soft as you anticipated, lips sliding over yours slow and sweet.

You move closer, and Kyle shifts his legs to either side of your knees to give you enough room, hands sliding down to your waist. You hum against his mouth, wrapping your arms around his solid shoulders. He kisses you for a long while before his tongue slips between your lips. He licks into your mouth, moaning, and the sound is just as pretty as he is, sending honey-sweet arousal through your veins to pool deep in your belly.

It would be easy to kiss Kyle forever— He makes no demands, keeps his hands on your waist or curled around your back, toying with, but making no attempt to undo, the buttons that march up your spine. He feels safe, and you know that he won’t push you for more, the way John would. Kyle keeps himself in check, holds himself back. It makes you all the more ready to melt for him.

It’s several long moments before he pulls back, lips swollen and eyes hot and hazy like a summer afternoon. “Princess,” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw. “I need to tell you something.”

There’s a soft chime from his desk, and John’s voice speaks into the workroom, as clear as if he were right there with you both. Kyle freezes, a hound caught with his nose somewhere it shouldn’t have been, hands tightening on your hips.

“Gaz? Is Sweetpea still with you?”

Kyle clears his throat. He looks at you so guiltily, you almost feel like you’re the one that’s done something wrong. “Um. Yes sir.”

“Good. The Lyudireki ambassador is here, and Kate too, if you’d like to speak with her before you join us, Sweetpea. I believe she’s gone to your room to wait for you.”John’s voice sounds amused. It makes Kyle nervous, if his grip is anything to go by. “Gaz, I’d like you to find Soap, and bring him to the green parlour. He can be a wolf, if he likes. It’s up to him.”

“Yes sir. We’ll be down in a minute.” The chime sounds a second time, and Kyle relaxes slightly. “Old man has terrible timing. Come on, Sweetpea. We’d better get to it.”

He stands and pulls you up along with him. "You didn't do anything wrong," you remind him gently. "I kissed you."

"No, I kissed you, Sweetpea. And it's my fault you wanted to. You wouldn't have if I hadn't charmed you." He sighed. "Price is going to—"

"Kyle, I can kiss anyone I want," you say stiffly. You resent the implication that a Price owns you, that he has any say in who you kiss or what you do.

"Well. I suppose so," he says doubtfully. "But we should go. You'll want to speak with Kate, yeah?"

Your stomach churns slightly. Kate has been notably absent for all this time, conveniently unavailable to explain. She knew. She knew everything, and didn't give you so much as a heads up. "Yes. I have some questions I'd like answered."

"Don't be too hard on her," Kyle said. "John didn't give her a choice."

"Everyone always has choices, Kyle. She should have told me what was going on."

"Would you have done things differently if she had?"

"What could be done differently? I'm not the foolish little girl everyone seems to think I am. I understand my position in all this better than anyone."

Kyle seems to have to response to that. He’s quiet all the way down the stairs, lost in his thoughts. You let him stay there.

It would be nice if everyone wasn't too afraid of what John might do or say to be honest with you. Although you do know that loyalty like he demands from his men isn't born from fear alone, or your father would never have been deposed. There’s love there too, and real trust.

Kyle leaves you at your door with a lingering kiss. You try not to blame him for the way his eyes dart down the hall before he does so, even if it makes you want to shove him away. You offer him a small smile instead, and step into your room.

Thanks for your patience everyone! I know it took me a hot minute to get this chapter out, but we're back, baby! And we're kissing Kyle about it.

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 -

Divider by CafeKitsune - Flower Divider by Saradika-Graphics

[wannaeatramyeon]

A national boyfriend day fic with Gun & Goo? >///< (Separate if that's ok!)

Ever so slightly late. Just a touch! To all my other requests, sorry for some reason my brain wants to work backwards 🫠

Happy National Boyfriend Day! Goo Kim, Gun Park

Goo Kim

"No, why did you put that?" Goo whines and you erase your last couple words.

"Say I'm the best instead. Put that down." He scans over your caption, leaning closer to the screen with each passing second before reeling back and jabbing a particularly offensive part with his finger.

"There's a typo there cupcake!" You quickly correct it. "And are you using that picture? That suit was last season. Here, let me send you a better photo of me."

Goo starts to tap away on his own phone. You hear the tell tale ping of a message sent, and he slings a smarmy grin your way too.

With a sigh, you change the picture and redo the entire caption so it finally, finally passes his royal highness's scrutiny.

It's live. Thank fuck for that-

"Sweetheart~" Goo sings songs, elongating the vowels and you feel a headache come on, "Did you get me a present too?"

You want to snap of fucking course you did. He's been dropping hints for the last couple of months. Getting more obvious with each passing day, until he just came right out and demanded the specific item.

Which you would have gotten for him of your own accord, but this fool has no patience and no subtlety.

Thinking of the packaged box in tasteful gold wrapping, well tasteful by Goo Kim's standard anyway, you point wordlessly to the walk-in closet and he scampers off with glee.

You suppose you can't complain, after all it is his credit card you used.

.

.

Gun Park

"Happy National Boyfriend Day," you say somewhat shy, handing over an envelope.

Neither of you are big on celebrating these silly little made up holidays. Actual birthdays, anniversaries you are both more attentive to.

At least you are, then Gun took your lead after the first time he missed a particular occasion of something or another and you didn't speak to him for days.

He has learned his lesson since.

It didn't take much to make you happy, anyhow. And each time he remembered a date, your eyes lit up - that was even before giving you a gift and taking you out. So how could he deny you such simple pleasures?

"Thanks," he responds, a little stiff and taking the item from your hands. Because he definitely doesn't care for National Boyfriend's Day and thought you didn't either.

"Open it," you encourage with an excited smile, and he follows your instructions obediently.

Inside the envelope is a card. Printed on high quality cardstock. Dark and matte and heavy, with a simple heart design on the front.

"You can read it!"

And Gun does.

He's never been one to be affected, positively or negatively, by media. By prose or poems or songs. Words are frivolous, especially for a man who lives by action and violence.

But as he reads over your tidy, neat writing. Recalling your favourite memories together, your love for him, the future you see together.

Gun can't help but be touched. 

Feel his eyes soften and a small smile tug at his lips. Want to pull you into his arms and hold you and cradle you like you're the most precious thing in his world.

"Thank you," He tells you again, and this time he means it.

[thegenesisguardians]

Ground Zero : Chapter 1

We were just kids

It was a warm, bright spring day. The air hummed with life as Viper and Lilian, two young sisters, climbed high into the trees surrounding their home. The divine nature of the children who inhabited this mystical place made everything flourish with abundance, especially the forest that enveloped their lovely manor. Today, the sisters were testing their climbing skills, eager to push their limits.

Lilian wore a pastel yellow spring overall set, her soft brown hair tied in a neat braid. Viper, slightly older, sported a sleek black jumpsuit, her wild, short hair whipping in the breeze. Viper had a firm grip on the bark as she hoisted herself up, the rough texture of the tree scraping her palms. She paused every so often to glance down, making sure her younger sister could follow, lending her a hand when needed.

The trees on the island were strange—foreign even to those who ventured from distant continents. Some stood as tall as small mountains, while others, like the teenage spruce they were climbing, barely stretched beyond a single story. To Viper and Lilian, this was just the right height for a bit of fun, their favorite tree for an afternoon adventure.

When they reached the top, the sisters settled, wrapping one arm around each other and the other around the rough trunk for balance. From their perch, they could see the vibrant world of the forest unfold below them—creatures scampering into tree hollows, birds singing sweet melodies, flowers blossoming in bursts of color that painted the earth like an artist's palette. The soft rustle of the leaves in the gentle breeze was almost hypnotic.

Viper let out a satisfied sigh, her lips curling into a smile as she took in the scene. “It’s beautiful up here, isn't it?” she murmured. Lilian pressed her cheek against the tree, the cool, textured bark grounding her as she felt the pulse of life flowing through it. “It’s like the tree is alive, breathing,” Lilian whispered, eyes wide in wonder.

Suddenly, Viper shifted her footing, but her shoe slipped on a patch of slick moss. Her heart leaped in her chest as her balance tipped backward. Panic flashed across her face as she felt gravity pull her down, her fingers clawing at the bark in a futile attempt to stop the fall.

“Viper!” Lilian’s voice rang out, sharp with fear. Time seemed to slow for the younger sister. Reflexes honed from their divine nature kicked in as Lilian’s eyes followed Viper’s fall. With no hesitation, her body reacted—muscles coiled like springs ready to release. Her wrist split open as if by instinct, the skin parting without pain. Out shot veins and nerves, twisting and transforming in the open air into vine-like tendrils.

The botanical tendrils lashed out, snaking around Viper’s waist just as she slipped out of reach. The vines tightened and jerked her sister back toward the tree. Viper grunted as she collided with the trunk and a few branches on the way down, earning a few scrapes, but she was safe. She blinked in shock, catching her breath as she looked up at Lilian’s pale, strained face.

“Gotcha,” Lilian exhaled, her arm trembling as her vines began to retract. The tendrils slithered back into her skin, reshaping into their original form. A few of them lingered, wrapping themselves around the open wound on her wrist, forming a leafy bandage that covered the cut and started the healing process.

Viper, still clinging to a branch just beneath her, rubbed the back of her head with a wry grin. “Nice catch, Lil’,” she said, her voice light but still a bit shaken. Her nails elongated into small, sharp claws, sinking into the tree for extra grip. “You okay? I didn’t make you use too much of your power, did I?”

Lilian, still slightly out of breath, nodded as she lowered herself onto the branch beside her sister. “I’m fine, just… don’t do that again, please,” she said with a shaky laugh, her vines tightening one last time before they vanished under her skin completely. “You scared me.”

Viper gave her a playful shove with her shoulder. “I’ll try not to make a habit of it,” she teased, though there was genuine gratitude in her eyes. She looked around as the last bits of adrenaline faded, and added, “Think we should head back?”

Lilian glanced toward the horizon, where the sun was already beginning its descent. “Yeah, Ty said we should only be out for a few hours. Plus, I think we’ve done enough climbing for one day.”

With a shared look and a nod, the two girls carefully made their way back down the tree, their feet finding steady purchase on each branch as they descended. The forest was alive with sounds, the wind whistling through the leaves, the hum of distant wildlife creating a serene symphony.

Elsewhere, the dead came in all shapes and sizes—some old, some young, and tonight, one of them was a child. Kaboo’s footsteps were silent as she moved through the dimly lit forest, her black aura shimmering around her like the wings of a raven. Despite her otherworldly appearance, she had a calm, soothing presence, the kind that could ease even the most terrified soul.

The little ghost girl stood shaking, her translucent form flickering with fear. Kaboo approached her slowly, her expression devoid of emotion, but there was something in her eyes—an unspoken promise of safety. “No one is going to hurt you here anymore,” Kaboo said softly, her voice a quiet, steady rhythm that seemed to soothe the child.

The girl, wide-eyed, looked up at Kaboo, her voice trembling. “I don’t wanna go…”

Kaboo knelt, her dark silhouette blending into the shadows. “Where would you like to go, then?” she asked, her tone patient as she reached into her pocket, pulling out a handkerchief to gently wipe the child’s tear-streaked face.

The girl sniffled, calming under Kaboo’s touch. “I… I want to see Mama and Papa again.”

Kaboo’s lips curled into a soft smile, the first real warmth she had shown all night. “They’re waiting for you behind those doors,” she whispered, pointing toward the shimmering light in the distance. The girl’s eyes lit up with hope, and she slowly began to walk toward the glow, disappearing as she crossed the threshold.

Meanwhile, back at the manor, Raiya lay sprawled on the floor, her face pressed into the wooden planks as her chest heaved with heavy breaths. “Dragon Witch… defeated…” she panted, her words muffled by exhaustion.

Jessa, a small toddler, sat triumphantly on her older sister’s back, waving her arms in the air. “I win! I win!” she squealed in delight.

Raiya groaned, too tired to argue. She had faced dangerous beasts, outrun law enforcement, and battled feral monsters in the past, but nothing compared to the bottomless energy of her little sister. She rolled onto her side, sending Jessa tumbling into the cushions of the nearby couch with a giggle.

“Alright, Jessa,” Raiya said, her voice heavy with fatigue. “Big Sis is tired. How about some cocoa before bed?”

Jessa’s face lit up as she nodded eagerly. “Cocoa!” she chirped, bouncing on the couch, her favorite stuffed animal Mr. Rex clutched in her arms.

Raiya smiled fondly, brushing a hand through her tangled hair as she pushed herself up. As she walked toward the kitchen, she felt the familiar dull ache in her shoulder—a reminder of the gunshot wound from the previous night. She winced slightly but shrugged it off, focusing instead on preparing the hot chocolate.

In another room, Tyra sat by the window, her eyes heavy with exhaustion from a long night of patrol. But when Diane toddled up to her, arms raised for a hug, Tyra felt a sudden rush of warmth. She scooped her little sister up and held her close, the setting sun casting a golden glow over them as they embraced.

For a moment, the weariness melted away, replaced by the simple comfort of family.

[priderock-inc]

serenade Scar singing to zazu

"Your father will be finished with his phone call in a few minutes," Zazu assures, leading Simba into his office and sitting him down with a pack of crayons and a few of the printing coloring pages that he keeps in his desk drawer. "He said you had a very grown-up evening yesterday."

Simba nods, stifling a yawn as he selects a red crayon. "Mm-hmm. We went to see a show. Me and Dad and Uncle Scar. It was a Boy's Night. Just for us."

He smiles proudly at the memory.

"That's nice," Zazu murmurs. He manages to locate the file he's looking for after only a moment of sifting through the neat piles of paper on his desk.

"Yeah! We got all dressed up fancy and we went to the big place where Sebastian works sometimes. I forgot the name, but it's really big and fancy with curtains and chairs and a big stage and everything and you're supposed to wear nice clothes when you go."

"The theater, you mean? The Triton Royale?"

"Uh-huh. We saw an op'ra. Dad told me that's what the show is called. He said it's like a story but everyone sings instead of talking. And they did. They sang a lot. It was Uncle Scar's favorite story, Dad said, so I had to be really quiet the whole time and let him consecrate."

"Concentrate," Zazu corrects, although he can't help smiling at the attempt. "I'm sure you did a wonderful job."

Simba puffs up at the praise. "I did! I only fell asleep twice and only for a little bit. During the boring parts. And Dad fell asleep also. But Uncle Scar didn't. Not even once. He loved it."

A small wrinkle in the boy's upper lip offers his doubt that anyone could love such an event enough to stay awake for its entirety.

"That sounds like fun," Zazu says. His curiosity gets the better of him, though. Scar, opening enjoying something enough to let other people notice his regard? "What story was it?"

"Hamlick, I think." Simba attempts to swallow another yawn. "Almost everybody died, but not for real, 'cause it's just a story. That's what Dad said. We went out for dessert after, too. It was so good. I got ice cream and a chocolate thing that I didn't finish 'cause I almost fell asleep in it. Dad saved it for me for later."

Zazu smiles again. Simba's a lot easier to deal with when he's tired.

He's just beginning to properly focus on his paper when a snatch of humming drifts in through the open doorway.

…he's pretty sure that's Scar's voice. But Scar doesn't hum- at least, not that Zazu has ever heard.

No, he's definitely humming.

And he's in the doorway.

"Hi, Uncle Scar," Simba waves.

Scar doesn't seem to hear him. His normally sharp eyes are softened, dreamy almost; a smile hovers above his lips, the song beneath his breath growing slightly louder.

"Good morning," Zazu offers cautiously.

"I must be cruel only to be kind," Scar croons in return, soft and low, and- with a single fluid movement- grabs Zazu’s wrist to twirl him around before pulling him back in, close, up against his chest. "Thus bad begins-" he bends forward suddenly, forcing Zazu to arc backward, directly into the hand that appears out of nowhere to catch him at the small of his back- "and worse remains-" he straightens and pulls Zazu up with him- "behind!"

Completely taken aback, Zazu manages to stammer out a "wh-what?!" before Scar releases him and glides out of the office, flashing over his shoulder a grin so uncharacteristically joyful that it makes Zazu’s head spin as he disappears off down the hallway.

"He's been doing that all morning," Simba observes.

Zazu stares after Scar, still trying to marshal his thoughts. His fingers are not altogether steady as they fumble with his collar.

"That?" he sputters. "What was… that?"

Simba blinks, shrugs, and goes back to his crayons.

"Y'know. Singing. And smiling."

He pauses, scrubbing a layer of bright blue across the top of his coloring page.

"He really liked the show."

[justimagineitblog]

KEEPER OF MY HEART - THOMAS SHELBY

KEEPER OF MY HEART - CHAPTER 2

Well… I survived.

Actually, more than that. I feel at home already. 

I glance over at the clock as the last of the men stumble their way out of the pub. I smile to myself as I hear them singing and laughing with each other, all the way down the street. Happy customers. 

I poured the beer. I made sure there were no fights. Nothing was damaged or broken. I made chatted with the men and women, making them laugh as I tried to make sure I left my best impression on them. Incase the Shelby’s wanted to ask around about what people thought of me. 

I felt like I had found my feet after only one night, but the relief doesn’t last long.

I know I haven’t gotten the job yet. In fact, the Shelby’s could walk in here right now and thank me for my time before sending me on my way. I try to push the thought of homelessness or having to clean peoples houses for a living out of my mind as I count up the last of the till. This is all I know. This is what I’m good at. I need this job.

I sweep and mop the floors, and wipe down all the surfaces, making sure everything is neat and tidy. 

A peace of my heart has fallen in love with the Garrison already. 

Earlier in the night, John Shelby and some of the younger Shelby boys and their friends had stopped in for drinks. It was Saturday night after all. The boys were hitting the town. They had their own private room, and I made sure they were tended to like kings. I was fast and discreet, remembering their orders and topping them up with fresh glasses any time they ran out before they even had to ask. 

My only reassurance, is when John pulled me aside just before 11pm.

“Zoe, right?” He had asked me, as he joined me behind the bar and started helping me pour beers during a busy rush. 

“You’re good at this, you know, like really good” He had smiled at me “Tommy told me to stop by-“

“To make sure I hadn’t burned the place down yet?” I joke, earning a laugh. 

“I’m putting in a good word for you, I just want you to know that” he touches my shoulder reassuringly “Maybe it’s that I’m younger, more with the times than the others, but I think you would be good for the place. Bring some life back in here”

I smile at him warmly, turning my attention away from the beers I was pouring to make sure I have him my full presence. Him doing me this favour means more to me than he could imagine. Everything is riding on this. Ever since I gave up my fathers pub, I’ve felt so lost. Just one night at the Garrison and I feel like I’m back in my element. More than needing money, I think I need this job for my sanity. 

“So you’re the softie of the Shelby’s huh?” I grin, handing him a beer “That means a lot to me John. Thank you” I add sincerely. 

“See you tomorrow then hey” he smiles back, heading back to the others. 

I knew from that moment that John and I would be friends. Similar in age. And he had looked out for me when the rest were ready to dismiss me at first glance. He even reminded me of my own brother. 

Smiling to myself at the thought of the exchange with John, I head over to the front doors to lock them and close up for the night. 

Right as I reach up to close the latch at the top of the door, it suddenly swings open. 

And there he is. Thomas Shelby. 

I take a few steps backwards, moving out of his way. 

Like earlier in the day, he looks me up and down before giving me a firm nod. I guess that was his way of greeting me. So much for “hello”. 

He brushes past me, and begins to make a lap around the empty Pub. It takes me a few seconds to realise he’s examining the place. Checking that nothing is out of order. I clasp my hands behind my back, wringing them tightly. I don’t want him to see my nerves. 

“The till is balanced, place is clean, everyone is gone and safe and everything is prepped for tomorrow” I inform him, but he barely even notices. Despite my reassurance, he makes his way behind the bar to check that the money is all in order. 

“I didn’t steal anything, before you ask” I say, slightly offended that he won’t take my word that I can manage the pub. 

He counts the money in silence, and takes one last look around the Pub before finally turning to me. 

When his eyes meet mine, they’re just as piercing as they were 12 hours ago when we first met. Something about them makes you stand still, frozen. They are crystal clear blue, but it is still impossible to read him. To know what is about to come out of his mouth. 

“Good. You didn’t burn the place down”

Seriously.

Any nerves I had fall away, as I am overcome with frustration. That is all he has to say to me? Is he embarrassed that I proved him wrong?

“Thank you is generally the word that people go with” I retort.

“Thank you” he replies condescendingly, almost mocking me. 

I sigh. I expected a lot of things. But I didn’t expect him to literally send me on my way without even giving me a fair chance. 

“What’s it going to take?” I ask, exasperated. I’m tired. I’ve just worked all night. I’m beyond entertaining this man any longer “Just tell me what I have to do?”

But he doesn’t speak. Of course he doesn’t. He just studies me. It’s like I can see his brain ticking. 

Until I get an idea.

“You know what. Sit down. I’m making you a drink” 

“No,” he interrupts her immediately “I have to go and-“

“Come on,” I cut him off, with nothing left to lose “Appease me” 

He takes a deep breathing, looking up to the ceiling as if he’s trying to gather patience “Fine. One drink” 

I burst into a wide grin, feeling like I have a chance again. With a spring in my step, I make my way around the bar, concocting the same drink I used to make for my father. 

When I place it down in front of him, he examines it, a disapproving look on his face. 

“Oh come on I didn’t poison it”

“Not funny” he shakes his head, before bringing it to his lips hesitantly. 

He takes a sip. And another. And another. 

I got him.

He finishes the drink, and I smirk, waiting for him to admit that it was good. 

“Okay so you can make a drink” I dismisses me, unimpressed. 

This man is something else. I can’t pick him. 

“Alright” I shake my head, giving up “Just tell me what you’re thinking”

He pauses “I don’t know if I trust you”

“I’m not asking to run your business” I reassure him “I’m asking to pour beer so I can afford somewhere to live”

“Well I don’t know anything about you” he retorts “I need to know who I’m letting into this family”

“You haven’t asked me anything” 

He opens his mouth to reply, but closes it again. He knows I’m right. 

“You’ve only jumped to conclusions about me. So go on, what do you want to know? I’m an open book” 

He shakes his head, taking less time in between replying now. Like I’ve gotten him fired up and his normally carefully crafted responses are getting hastier. 

“I don’t want to know your favourite colour, I want to know that you don’t have ulterior motives” He reveals. 

“I do” I reply shortly “Who doesn’t?”

He glares at me.

“I want to live in the country. I want to save my money and buy a place. I want to live comfortably. I want to work and be treated like an equal. This may come as a shock to you, but I have no idea who you are and who your family is. I moved here one week ago. The only jobs going are for nanny’s and maids. I saw the ad. I put my name down because I’m good at this. And I don’t want to clean someone’s house for a living. So there…” I pause, letting my words sink “Not everyone has sinister motives you know”

And for the first time, he’s looking at me like he’s actually listening. Like he doesn’t have anything else to say. I search his face, trying to find some kind of indication. Did I go too far? Did I cross a line? 

“And it’s purple” I add, trying to lighten the mood “My favourite colour is purple”

And all of a sudden, he laughs. Okay, maybe it was more of a scoff. But it is the most emotion I’ve seen on his face all day. 

He shakes is head at me, like he’s astonished that I won’t give up. 

“Lot’s of business goes down here. You do not utter a word of it to anyone” He says seriously, his face turning grave and serious. 

“I get paid to listen, not to talk” I nod.

He nods back, and then, he holds a hand out. 

Oh my god. He’s offering me the job.

I quickly take his hand, shaking it firmly to try and show confidence. 

With that, he heads back towards the doors that he came in.

“See you tomorrow, Boss” I call out to him, unable to contain my excitement.

He looks back at me, shaking his head, but I swear I could see the faintest smile on his hollow cheeks. 

[whattraintracks]

Hello! I'm passing by with an opportunity to ramble if you'd like! :D I know you like Raph - what about Raph as a character appeals to you (any or all versions)? Do you have favorite Raph moments or episodes? Out of the other turtles, who do you enjoy Raph's dynamic with the most?

Yes, I would actually like to do that. Thank you much!! I've been wanting to post and write more now that classes are done, and this was a helpful kick-start. A little too helpful, some might say. Very long post ahead.

What about Raph as a character appeals to you (any or all versions)?

Honestly, liking Raph took me by complete surprise. Growing up on 12 and getting back into my TMNT fixation with Rise, Leo and Donnie were my favorite turtles by far. But then I decided to watch as much as I could in chronological order. 87 Raphael was not at all what I expected, and I immediately loved him. He's hilarious and exudes the kind of sarcasm I can only aspire to. And as I began watching and rewatching shows and movies, I realised a lot of them have this dry wit that appeals to my sense of humor.

Raphs also go through so much crap internally and externally, and I'm a sucker for angst. Plus, it's so important to me that no matter how much they struggle, no one gets and loves them so well as their family. Maybe a weird example, but I love Mr. Nice Guy (1987), in which Donatello's Personality Alterator gets turned on him accidentally, and the other three freak out and send him to therapy. Like it's a silly situation, but the fact that they clock something's really wrong in the way he's not acting like himself and get him help is heartwarming.

Had a good laugh earlier this week at the realisation that most Raphs are particularly sweet on kids, old blind folks, and animals. Followed a couple of days later by the thought, duh, these populations are particularly vulnerable to abuse and harm, so of course, a Raph is going to be protective of them.

Also, sai are so cool, what the heck. Can't believe I was obsessing over katana as a kid when sai are right there. With my limited understanding, they may not always be shown correctly in TMNT? But they're truly very neat weapons, and sai kata are cool to watch.

Do you have favorite Raph moments or episodes? 

Gotta love the classic

87 Donatello: Oh well, you know women. 87 Raphael: No, we don't!

Raphael Meets His Match (1987) is perfect. No notes.

90s Raph and Casey's first fight ("Cricket! Nobody understands cricket. You gotta know what a crumpet is to understand cricket"), then he goes home and curls up with Splinter to cry about getting his butt kicked by Some Dude. He's quite the daddy's boy in the 90s.

Raph's voice is unfairly gorgeous in Coming Out of Their Shells. I straight up clutched my heart the first time I heard it

Mikey: Tell 'em Raph! Raph: It isn't burgers or french fries that work for turtles of our size

I love this silly line entirely because of his voice and delivery. He's also fun to watch on stage. One of my favorite bits is this backward skip he does when he sings, "And moving backwards is a crying shame!"

The one where Venus gets her name

TNM Leo: Hey, Venus! Uh, what's with the statue head? TNM Raph: Hahaha! She won it in the park, slaying bad guys.

After the TNM gang saves a baby turtle from a poacher, Raph gets on the floor to be at eye level with her

Raph: You know what, you're kinda cute for such an ugly little thing. I'm you're Uncle Raph~ You wanna go for a ride in my hog? Ayo, Donnie! Can you make her a teeny tiny helmet?

And then Donnie teases him while everyone stares, so he gets offended (read: embarrassed), and Leo teases him harder, and he gets even more offended.

Just thinking about the beginning of Meet Casey Jones (2003) makes me tear up.

The almost as funny successor

12 Donnie: She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen 12 Raph: Isn't she the only girl you've ever seen? 

As a fellow biggest sibling, Rise Raph in Pizza Puffs is such a mood. Also love the scene where he eats his phone in Mystic Library.

Out of the other turtles, who do you enjoy Raph's dynamic with the most? 

87 Raphael and Donatello's dynamic is very important to me. In my heart, they're twins. Some of my favorite episodes are the ones where they pair off or take the same side of a team argument: Splinter Vanishes, The Big Blow Out, Back to the Egg, Dirk Savage: Mutant Hunter, Combat Land, Cry H.A.V.O.C.!, etc. I also love this line from My Brother, the Bad Guy

Raphael: Okay, this is the point at which we get squashed like bugs, or! turn to Donatello for help. R+M+L: DONATELLO! 

Coming Out of Their Shells Sunset Duo are the besties everrrrr. Mikey raps a whole verse in Cowabunga about how Raph is his best friend and they wrote all of the music together and that is like the most epic thing ever and I love their energy and how they play off each other on stage and they love each so much I can't– 

TNM Raph and Venus!! The siblings ever, truly. So much sass. They are both overprotective of each other. They're literally the best.

03 Sunset Duo will never not be funny. Raph can be tricked into verbally affirming he loves Mikey when he thinks one or both of them are about to die. Raph is also incredibly distraught about Mikey possibly and then actually winning the Battle Nexus Tournament. Peak comedy and siblinghood.

07 Raph and Leo quite possibly make me feral. "Is he kiddin'? He's lecturing." I still can not believe he didn't know Raph was Nightwatcher. For so many reasons, but especially because some of his initial comments in that fight are pointed. I always wonder if, on some unconscious level, he did know. And then Raph goes through a battery of emotions with the katana breaking and pinning Leo and then running and all the screaming, gosh. Leo, too. They're so similar it hurts.

I also love 12 Sunset Duo, but I think I love the A-Team a little more. Honestly, their interactions remind me so much of my siblings and I. Pushing each other's buttons so hard, then taking over the world together. Actively trying to kill each other, but minutes later, they're professing their undying love. So much ganging up on their little siblings. Leo gets adorably excited with him sometimes ("Look, Raph, mouser-kebabs!"), and Raph is frequently going, how are we related??? ("Halt? Villain?? When did we start talking like that?!" and "Dude, it literally hurts to listen to you sometimes"). Favs.

Thanks for asking, and I hope everyone who made it here enjoyed the ride!

[ankmankpank]

im sending u my hcs!! ( i personally hc that 4town is a kpop group but u can ignore that part)

Jesse:

- 3/4/01

- ♉️

- 🇫🇷

- ISFJ

- 🦢

- lead vocalist and center

- trained for 3 years

- jesse stans are called swans

- ranked #3 place in the show because of his singing voice

- rarely posts but when he does it’s the most ethereal, jaw dropping, angelic photo ever

- got the biggest perfume collection

- taught himself the piano and the violin

- his children were born when he was 15

- likes to cook but is very bad at it

- a neat freak for sure

- has a frenemies relationship with robaire

- was born and raised in a farm

- a natural redhead

- is seen as the mom of the group

- was planning to go to college but decided not to because he wanted to be an idol instead

Robaire:

- 11/4/02

- ♏️

- 🇭🇹

- ENFJ

- 🌹

- main vocalist, sub rapper and leader

- trained for 5 years

- robaire stans are called babes

- got #1 place on the survival show with pretty privilege and vibes (and talent of course)

- the richest member in 4town

- went to a posh private school

- people only think he’s just this flirtatious sex symbol but he’s more than that

- has a baby sister named Rosalie

- seen as the dad of the group

- in high school, he would receive love letters and flowers from women and men on valentine’s day

- is surprisingly good at painting

Aaron Z:

- 2/4/03

- ♓️

- 🇨🇳🇺🇸

- ISTP

- 🐱

- main rapper and vocalist

- trained for 6 years

- aaron z stans are called zooms

- got #2 place in the show because he could rap and he was hot

- has a sexy back tattoo

- reads his own fan-fiction

- when asked his ideal type, he said “i don’t really have a preference, not even for gender”

- the members say that he’s a grumpy old man stuck in the body of a boy band heart throb

- is a cat person through and through

- snores very loudly

- was an underground rapper and released music on soundcloud before he got famous

- will sleep through anything and everything

- big fan of tupac, kendrick lamar, missy elliot and lil kim

- suffers from intense anxiety to the point where one time he had to go on hiatus

Aaron T:

- 12/4/03

- ♐️

- 🇧🇷

- ESFP

- 🐯

- main dancer, lead rapper and sub vocalist

- trained for 4 years

- aaron t stans are called tigers

- got #4 place in the show because he’s funny

- has the funniest laugh ever

- always wears a backwards baseball cap

- one time him & Z went live while high

- used to have braces during his debut era

- has a cleft lip

- the group’s happy vitamin

- got his whole right arm tattooed

- undiagnosed audhd

- when people get into 4town they usually think T is the maknae until they see taeyoung

- is the one with the biggest appetite

- learned english through memes

- was raised on the beach

- had a brief crush on one of the older male trainees on star-made

Taeyoung:

- 8/4/04

- ♌️

- 🇰🇷

- INFP

- 🕊️

- lead dancer, vocalist, fotg and maknae

- trained for 1 year (because he was already going to a performance arts school prior)

- taeyoung stans are called doves

- got #5 place on the show due to his aegyo

- would’ve became a veterinarian if he wasn’t a K-pop idol

- has a love-hate relationship with being an idol

- despises doing aegyo with every fiber of his being

- mixes femininity and masculinity into his personal style

- king of dirty jokes

- bleaches his hair so much that people think he’s a natural blonde

- learned english through tiktok

- is very sensitive towards criticism

YALL TAKE A GOOD LOOK AT THIS BC ITS GOOD‼️‼️

I love these, ofc I don’t agree with it all, but leaving it there in case it gives someone an idea:)

[bbybearcubbs]

𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒

＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊

Look out for a girl in a red & white dress walking alone at night. She wears black Mary Jane shoes and her curly hair is pulled into a pom pom, secured in place by a neat red bow. She isn't very tall, just below average height and always walks with a skip in her step and a small smile on her face.

Happy, innocent, unassuming, she's all of those things. Perfect pray for the monsters that lurk in the shadows of empty streets, the ones looking for a quick and easy snack but what they do not know, is that they are her favorite type of snack. She senses when they begin to follow her and that's when her innocence smile turns into one of malice and pure monstrous intent.

They can't see the smile on her face from behind her, the distance is to far for them to hear her soft giggling. She's happy. She caught another one.

She stops dead in her tracks and in one swift motion, she spins around and immediately locks eyes with the unlucky soul tailing her. Her smile is bright, her nose is scrunched in excitement and she'll wave at them eagerly. It's the kind of face you see on a person that hasn't seen their best friend in days.

If they were lucky and hadn't locked eyes with her, they'd have noticed that while her upper half was turned around facing them, her lower half was still facing forward. By this time, they would've stopped walking as well, stood facing her, unable to look away from her eyes.

Even as she lowers her hand and her smile fades, when her eyes grow wide and her pupils expand until the whites of her eyes are no longer visible. Even when her mouth falls open, wider than it should be possible for any human being, they can't look away.

They can't turn around, they can't walk backwards, its as if the weight of her gaze is holding them down, trapping them where they stand. No matter how much they want to turn around and run away when she starts walking towards them, her feet still facing the other direction, they can't. The screams they want to let out the closer she gets, stuck behind their locked lips.

The sun will rise and light will fill the neighborhood, bird will sing and the wind will blow. Families will leave the house, some heading to work, some heading to school. Those that drive may not notice, but the ones walking surely will see the pair of shoes in the middle of the side walk that weren't there yesterday. One shoe a little further ahead than the other, almost as if the person wearing them just vanished in the middle of taking a late night stroll.

.

.

.

.

.

мαѕтєяℓιѕт

© bbybearcubbs 2022 | Do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works onto other platforms without my permission.

[undertheopensky]

Become Like Stone 1

Whumptober Day 6: Made To Watch

Characters: Four, Legend

Trigger warnings: HARD warning for torture in this one; blood, burns, violence to a child (if you personally consider Four a child)

Read on Ao3!

After an eternity of piercing screams, the man returns the metal rod to the coals they’d brought in. Four slumps in his chains, panting.

“Oh, are you tired, baby?” The woman reaches for his face with one manicured hand.

Four snaps at it.

She slaps him, open handed.

Undeterred, Four tries to kick her. Hung from the ceiling with his toes just barely brushing the ground, even trying just swings him backwards and away from her, making her laugh in a high, girlish titter.

“Now that’s just rude,” she says, sounding delighted. “Darling, would you?”

That’s the way it’s been. The woman talks, sickly and cooing, playing at softness while cruel glee lights her eyes. She’s the one in charge.

In contrast, the man hasn’t spoken a word the whole time. Not when he first chained Four up. Not when he’d beaten him on the woman’s orders, striking hard and precise with fist and metal stave. Not when he’d whipped his back bloody.

Not now, as he holds the red-hot metal to Four’s ribs, emotionless in the face of Four’s screams.

Legend screams too, curses and threats and pleading in equal measure. He doesn’t know how long it’s been; the windowless stone cuts them off from outside so completely it may as well not exist. They come and go at random, too-short intervals. And the whole time, the pair have been fixated on Four, on making him scream and struggle and bleed.

He doesn’t even know what they want.

Four gasps with equal agony and relief as the metal is taken away. Sobs catch in his throat; every movement of his chest pulls at burn-tight skin and open wounds. Red and black burns march down his torso in neat lines, marred by the way the skin bubbles and warps. The latest one is white in the centre, blisters already forming at the edges.

The woman giggles and claps her hands. “I think that’s enough for one day. Darling, come.”

“Hey!” Legend thrashes in his own chains. “Hey! Let him down first, you assholes! He can’t breathe! HEY!”

The man doesn’t so much as glance at him as he picks up his tools and wheels out the bucket of burning coals.

Legend roars wordless rage after them, then turns his attention on his brother. Chained to the wall as he is, it’s all he can offer.

This time Four’s been left shaking and crying. If he holds himself up on tiptoe the weight of his body doesn’t drag at the mangled arm, but the upwards stretch of his torso pulls at the burns.

He coughs, low and wet, and Legend goes cold all over.

“Ledge?” Four’s voice is faint and rasping. “Can you… talk to me? Please?”

Legend would do just about anything for Four right now. “About what? Stories?”

“Just -” Four shudders - “anything. Please.”

So Legend talks.

He talks about sneaking into the castle to visit Fable, because no one would let a commoner boy in to talk to the princess.

He talks about the headache that learning Subrosian was, compared to Labrynnan - “You do not want to know what they do to their verbs, it is a travesty” - and about his half-completed smithing apprenticeship. How he’d tried to go back to it, only to be interrupted by this portal business.

He talks about the apple orchard back in his Hyrule, that nominally belongs to him but he can barely stand to look at. The house that had been all but empty until Ravio moved himself in.

He talks until his brain short-circuits, his words failing like they always do, eventually. When he stops being able to piece sentences together, he falls back on music.

Legend doesn’t sing much, prefers the precision of a well-tuned instrument, but he has a nice enough voice. He sings travel songs, stamped into his mind like muscle memory from singing them over and over; the wordless tunes of the dancing songs Din had taught him, when he’d broken his ankle and couldn’t dance himself.

He even sings the Royal Lullaby, which in some eras he could be killed for knowing.

Four makes a soft noise and blinks hazy eyes. “Th’ sounds nice.”

“You like that one?” Legend’s heart hurts. Four’s barely stirred the whole time and he can only pray his stupid rambling is somehow making things easier. Letting Four’s mind wander somewhere the pain isn’t so all-encompassing, and he’s not precariously balanced between strained breaths and total agony. “I have lots. Played a lot.”

“Mm. Seen y’r c’llection.” Four’s eyes flutter closed. “Wh’n we get out, ‘m g’nn teach you… minish songs.” He smiles to himself, just a little. It’s still enough to make one of the cuts on his face crack open, starting to bleed again. “Sing it ‘gain?”

Even in the face of this suffering and misery, Four can still think ahead to ‘after’. Still smile even though he’s in agony.

All Legend can do is sing.

-----

Read Part 2 here!

[imichelle-l-rigby]

Reflections: Cillian Murphy’s Limited Edition

Season 3, episode 5

✨also magnificently late✨

———————————————————————

*I am a music prof (predominantly classical vocalist), and I LOVE listening to Cillian’s music choices! That being said, sometimes I won’t like a song simply because of a vocalist (it’s a professional hazard - sorry!) 👩‍🏫

** The following are my own observations/opinions. We may not agree, and that’s ok! That’s what makes music fun! 😊

*** I wouldn’t say I’m well-versed in Cillian’s music preferences, but I do enjoy them (for the most part). I always wind up adding to my own playlists after listening to Cillian’s recommendations.

———————————————————————

The episode…

🎵Set 1 (Cross Talk I - Auntie’s Lock/Infinitum)

Cross Talk I: this sounds like the technology of my childhood 👵🏻

Soaring X: the instrumental track reminds me of something (specifically the 3 note motif) and I can’t for the life of me remember what it sounds like! Ahhh!!!! Also, I love this! It’s always so interesting to me how a tremolo (the fast repeated notes) can be so effective and moving when the technique itself is so simple.

Auntie’s Lock/Infinitum: … when the melody is basically the Westminster chimes 😳😅😂 wasn’t expecting that!

🎤Talking Break

Thanks for the date info! 😂😂😂

“”Luxury loving Librans”

An ident! 😳😂

… sir. I didn’t need to know that about spiders 😖😖😖

“Do your bit”- yes. Please wash your hands

Why is he so into uninteresting facts?? 😅

Yay! Someone told him the name of the film!!!

🎵Set 2 (All Change - Excess Success)

All Change: the intro sound effects specifically remind me of the jump/crisscross sections of the Cha Cha Slide 😅🤦‍♀️ now it is cool how things get more distorted towards the end! Unsettling, but neat.

it’s been a long week please don’t judge me for my idiocy 😅😂

Apothecary: I’m listening to all the woodwinds in the background. Interesting timbres.

Excess Success: it’s both cute and driving. Idk how that works, but it does!

🎤Talking Break

“Oh yes! Some music from Cork. Where I’m from…”

Reflection inspired tangentially by Elaine’s comments - I’ve noticed so many ppl are afraid to sing. It’s a part of us, so of course it’s personal. Either way, please sing. It’s worth it.

🎵Set 3 (To the Test - somehow she’s still here)

To the Test: chill and atmospheric. 😎

InFLUX: a weird distorted saxophone background. Again, I’m convinced this is one of Cillian’s favorite instruments! I really like the vocals here. And then halfway through everything changes! 🙀 surprise twist!

Somehow she’s still here: soulful! Gorgeous vocals!

🎤Talking Break

More Irish music!

“Cracker of an album”

🎵Set 4 (All of the People)

All of the People: while not my fave vocal style, I do like this (and Fontaines DC). Instrumentals are beautiful *dreamy sigh*

🎤Talking Break:

Oh dear… he manifested a poetry reading 😂😂😂😂

A stormy Brooklyn!

Plateau: the background track is trippy! I am immersed!

🎵 Set 5 (Le Jardin - Sorrowful Soil)

Le Jardin: I feel like I’m in a National Geographic special omg! 🙀 but the cute piano piece is a great addition! It really feels like I’m in the garden and I’m listening to someone play from the garden window. It’s also cool that the piano portion follows the “rustic” or pastoral trope of the pedal point. It’s meant to evoke bagpipes/pipes (not limited to Scotland but of course heavily associated with the country). The lilting melody on top just adds to the pastoral trope. And then the garden atmosphere gets all synth and I go “what???” 😅 this one’s got a bit of everything! 😂

XII: I love that he enjoys instrumental music. Lots of interesting timbres - some brass and woodwinds.

I’ll Stay Here Now: it’s all whooshy like the music’s being played backwards. 😊

Sorrowful Soil: this is so angular! I know I should pay attention to the lyrics, but I’m only paying attention to the musical lines. It’s reminding me of VERY early (medieval) musical lines, but put in the electronic timbres of today.

🎤Talking Break:

“That was Bjork, of course!”

I should check out the podcast. I’m not a huge Bjork fan, but it sounds cool!

Idk how or why, but I always enjoy music from Iceland. I’ve never even been there!

The ident…

GEORGE HARRISON IS MY FAVORITE BEATLE

I still need to watch Living in the Material World… 😅

I LOVE GET BACK

Side note - I’m convinced Cillian’s favorite Beatle is John.

🎵 Set 6 (I Can Feel It)

I Can Feel It: I am dancing and having so much fun!!! 💃

🎤Talking Break

The shortest break EVER.

🎵Set 7 (Inglan is a Bitch)

Inglan: all I can say is OOF. This song packs a punch! 😅

🎤Talking Break

No Cill, he’s not more interesting. Promise. 😂😂😂

Cohen covers ❤️

🎵Set 8 (Hey, That’s No Way to Say Goodbye - What About Now)

Hey: I love Roberta! ❤️❤️❤️

I Shall Not Be Moved: I think tambourine should be in more songs.

Description of People Get Ready: I love gospel!

People Get Ready: ok, for so many personal reasons, I love this song and it’s message! “You just thaaaank the Lord!”

What About Now: I’m feeling so much ‘60s teenage rebellion. 😎 vocals aren’t that strong, but the drums sure do cover a lot of that! Perhaps a Bob Dylan inspired vocal quality! The whine is on point.

🎤Talking Break:

“Great name for a band”

Disco!

“Does this qualify as disco?”

🎵Set 9 (Dee Tour - Genshi)

Dee Tour: fun and girly and so retro! Also… FLUTE SOLO! 😎

Genshi: I looooove the opening. Which is funny because it’s so monotone, but the repeating rhythms are cool 👍 and then you have other lines show up. It’s just a groovy little piece!

🎤Talking Break

“Do work, or tidy the kitchen, or think about composting, things like that”

Kinda a cover?

🎵Set 10 (Goodbye Pork Pie Hat)

Goodbye Pork Pie Hat: more sax! The ding and other sound effects are so strange to me. Like… why? I feel like I’m missing context here. The pedal board lyrics are so “whoa”

🎤Talking Break

GEORGE HARRISON 😍😍😍😍

Yeah George - biggest solo album!!!

ARCHIVE OF GEORGE!!!!

I’m so proud of him for not cussing in this interview because I know he wanted to 😂

🎵Set 11 (Awaiting on You All - One Woman)

Awaiting On You All: not my fave George solo song, but you can’t deny it’s groovy!! His personal style could be haunting, beautiful, or kinda schmaltzy early rock ish. And all wrapped up in a quiet, sassy personality! 😂😅

One Woman: ooohhh this soulful, soulful song! ❤️ gorgeous vocals.

🎤Talking Break

I’m with you, Cill, regarding Al Green

Noooo don’t go!

Jazz! Yussss 😎

“Played this loudly in the kitchen last week”

“Mind yourselves”

🎵Set 12 (Pastoral - Memories of Edith Johnson)

Pastoral - ok, I could go music nerd again on the pastoral genre, but I won’t. Once is enough. But I do like the harp! Such a sweet sound.

Desillusion: yep! Definitely some jazz! 😎 powerful piano. It keeps sloooowly getting more complex as the song goes along. The bass and drums are also getting it! I’m gonna have to look up this trio.

Memories of Edith Johnson: so I looked her up and Edith was a silent film actress. It now makes sense why Cillian likes this. The organ and sax are fun together. The “oooohs” I can do without.

Fin

———————————————————————

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to share and comment! Episode 6 coming soon!

Tag list:

@iammrsrogers @deliciousnutcomputer @mariamoonie @brownskinsugarplum76 @look-at-the-soul @kj-davis @neverroad @teapothollow @thepurplearmyposts @possessedmarshmallow

[glassprism]

Hi Glassprism,

I just listened to the Trieste July 4 audio…To my surprise, why did the Phantom disguised Don Juan behind the curtain part now sing by the actor of Piangi instead of the Phantom? As the voice singing “You have come here in pursuit of…you’ve decided…decided” sounds definitely NOT Karimloo?? To me, Ramin started to sing from “Past the point of no return…no backward glances…”

I remembered in the past, all these lines belong to the phantom not Piangi? Or the POTO production changed through recent years which I wasn’ aware of ? Rushing to your ask box to look for answers. Thank you.

Hello!

In the replica production, yes, once Don Juan emerges from behind the curtain, all his lines belong to the Phantom, not Piangi, and that has not changed over the years. However, the Italian production is a non-replica, so as long as they stick to the general score, lyrics, and story, they can pretty much do whatever they want with the actual blocking. In this case, they had "Piangi" (or is it? more on that later) begin the song before switching into the Phantom's voice. This seems to have been tweaked a little during the production's run - in the audio I have from opening night, the switch from Piangi to the Phantom is quite abrupt, but in a later audio, it's more of a slow merge, with it clearly being Piangi at one point, then the Phantom putting on a fairly heavy Italian accent and tone similar to Piangi's, and then just the Phantom with a lighter accent by the end.

It's worth noting that this is not a new idea, really. Even in the replicas, as far back as Michael Crawford, the original Phantom himself, we often hear the Phantom disguising his voice by singing with Piangi's accent. The "merging" of the voices also occurs in 'Notes I' and 'Notes II', where Madame Giry reading the notes slowly segues into the Phantom's voiceover, though it's clear the latter is a stage conceit or a dramatic effect, not something actually happening (hopefully, maybe).

Now what does the Piangi voice mean? Honestly, I think it's up to you, and a lot of it hinges on exactly how the scene is staged (which I don't know much of, except through clips and reviews). One theory is that it's another dramatic effect or "Rule of Cool", a merging of the voices because it's just neat to hear. It's something for the audience to appreciate, just like the Phantom's note-reading voiceovers, but not necessarily something "actually" happening. Alternatively, it showcases the Phantom's skill at mimicking voices, or even more interestingly, his hypnotic effect - perhaps the fact that we hear Piangi's voice instead of the Phantom's at first is because the Phantom is weaving his spell over us, lulling us into thinking Piangi is the one there and everything's fine, just fine! His Phantom-y voice becoming clearer could be us - or Christine - starting to shake off the spell or even the Phantom breaking down as the sensuality of the scene gets to him. (Though according to reviews, it seems Christine doesn't notice, so that's a dent in that.)

Yet another theory is that maybe this implies that Piangi dies later; this works better in the earlier performances where the voice switch is more abrupt, but maybe Piangi was okay and just starting to sing his lines but then the Phantom killed him. The big hole in this theory is that Don Juan has already emerged, so no switcharoo or murdering can be done at this point. Or heck: maybe Piangi is in cahoots with the Phantom. They're working together! He's hiding under that giant coat! Oh, you saw his dead body? Psych, he's faking it! After this he's going to run off with Carlotta to an opera house where they can both get the acclaim they deserve.

Anyway, hope that explains at least the voice-switching part, while the why and how of it happening is, I think, up to interpretation!

[alexcaninnit]

Stage rendition of Chicago where, in the dip between the final few measures of All That Jazz before Velma starts singing again, Roxie shoots Fred, and is trying to check on him while panicking, while right next to Velma singing.

I dunno, i just thinkitd be neat if Roxie looked up at Velma as she was holding her victim.

And then maybe the cops were below Velma in the pit and then she fell in backwards on the last beat.

[sidewalkgloom]

oh, dream maker

6.1k | bakugō & midoriya | angst | codependency

The walls are a familiar white. He squeezes down on the phantom of hand in his. Then the fear takes hold. Fire along his veins, stuttering drum in his ears, the tightening of a wire. This is familiar, too. He sits up, a name on his exhale and limbs scrabbling over white, white sheets, searching for that other hand, that other voice, and Kacchan’s ruby red eyes snap open and zero in on Izuku. “Ah, you’re okay.” Kacchan stays still long enough for Izuku to think that maybe he isn’t, and the embers begin to spark, and then Kacchan shoves an elbow underneath him and sits up. The grunt that pushes past his lips isn’t pained—but full up with the same kind of stuffiness stirring in Izuku’s chest. A bird chirps outside. Izuku slides backwards on the bed until his back is to Kacchan, and watches the clouds sail. The air is clear, and the edges don’t deepen, or blacken, or close in. Something hopeful and brittle climbs Izuku’s face. He turns. Sheets rustle. “Do you think…?” “Maybe, nerd.” “It’s so bright.” Kacchan nods once, stiff. Izuku’s fingers twitch. Reaching across the gap between their beds, Kacchan clasps Izuku’s wrist, thumb pressing in. Izuku tugs back until he can fit his hand into Kacchan’s. The quiet is long and the stillness soft. Recovery Girl’s office is neat as ever. They’re ready when the door handle twists, feet planted and every muscle rippling with tension. The door swings open and it’s not something shapeless that fills the doorway, but the form of Aizawa-sensei. They edge closer together, back towards the window with the singing birds. “Good, you’re up,” it says with Aizawa-sensei’s mouth, in Aizawa-sensei’s cadence. “The villain has been apprehended. Recovery Girl already cleared you, you can join your classmates tomorrow.” Aizawa-sensei’s eyes regard them with a sharpness wholly distinct from the worn-out cloak he wears. “What’s wrong?” it says. Kacchan doesn’t lose his temper, like Izuku wants to. “Bakugō. Midoriya.” Aizawa’s form sighs. His nose is red and chafing. When he slips his right hand from the pocket of his pants, a crumpled tissue sits tucked in his palm. Kacchan twists his hand out from under Izuku’s, and the force of it pulls Izuku out of orbit. “You’re out. It’s over,” Aizawa-sensei says.

Read the rest here.

[moonchildreads]

y'all get to find out random shit about me thanks to the always gorgeous and unfortunately too far away for me to hug right now @duquesademiel so yay! tag games are fun!

rules: color the ones that are true and tag fifteen (15) people

appearance:

i’m over 5’5" // i wear glasses/contacts (i wear reading glasses when i need them) // i have blonde hair (technically yes, i'm a 7 ash blond naturally - yes, it is the same colour as eddie's wig lmao) // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing (no preference tbh) // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair (i've had my tips dyed blue, teal, purple and green throughout college) // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails (sometimes, when i remember) // i typically wear make-up // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look (long journey to get to this point but i am happy now) // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backwards

hobbies and talents:

i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing (i sing badly but i enjoy it) // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand

relationship:

i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends (no comments on whether it's good or bad advice) // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

aesthetics:

i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sun rise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season

miscellaneous:

i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend (not to all my friends, but to some of them, yes) // i live by a certain quote (do whatever you have to do to be happy) // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy Mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift (badly, but i do. i need to practice more so i can get my driver's license but i don't have the time) // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least three dogs

i don't think i even know 15 people irl so i'm just tagging people i think are neat: @justahappycloud @gutterratt @so-inlove-with-the-wrongworld @munsonology @queenimmadolla @1lostsoul0fishbowl @eddiemunson95 @lesservillain