#the original's just supposed to be a silly little man like calm down you're not drawing realist

[cannibalsrider]

Can you write some fluff with the haikyuu boys (mainly Atsumu, Kuroo, Oikawa and Akaashi) laying on readers chest?? Just some good ol fluff🌚

yes omg ^.^ id lobe to idk if I was supposed to pick but on a Tsumu kick rn but ill def do a pt2 with the other three gonna do him based off of dif songs I can see him putting in playlists for his partner

ft: atsumu miya x mangaka!gn reader

warnings: nothing just pure fluff

a/n. this was a bit short cus i was procrastinating a bit and flipping back and fourth between this and my crochet project but I hope u like it annon^.^

wc.683

Cuddling with a six-foot setter wasn't easy, but cuddling with Atsumu Miya felt like being draped with a weighted blanket, his bleach-blonde hair tucked under my chin as we scrolled through TikTok, watching fan edits of us. "They've been picking good songs for the edits they make of you recently, Tsum," I mumbled, looking down at the half-asleep man resting on my chest. "Mhm, you're probably the one giving them all those ideas from your Spotify," he muttered back as I ran my hand through his hair. "You're the one who kept talking about it when the reporter asked you about your workout playlist," I quipped, placing a small kiss atop his head. "Now all people like to say about us is that I made you listen to all the sweet stuff," I said sarcastically as I played with the hair resting at the back of his neck.

"Because you're the one making me all sweet just for your enjoyment," he responded, his sleepy voice making me want to laugh. He sounded like he was drowning in the thought of wanting to sleep but tried his hardest to stay awake so we could have some form of time together since he had been busy all day with another game. If he had asked me who they had played, I could honestly not tell, with the fact that he had looked like a focused puppy on his way to get a win in tug of war against another dog.

"Yeah, mhm, not like you didn't tell me to add The Smiths on there, saying that it reminded you of us," I huffed with a small laugh. As we stayed quiet for a moment, it felt like nothing was moving around us, like it was our second year again and he was sneaking into my bedroom window and me holding him after an especially long day. Atsumu Miya was like a big golden retriever when it was just us, nothing to do about volleyball or a chapter I had to complete for my editor. It was just the calm silence of our bedroom with the white noise of the Tokyo streets. I sometimes wondered, would we be like this in every universe, laying here, his head tucked under my chin as we watched videos of him on my phone? It felt silly in a way, thinking that maybe we would, and that we'd always find our way to each other, even if times got hard. I'd always find him.

"Tsum?" I said, my voice soft as I spoke. "Hm," he mumbled, tracing shapes absentmindedly against my collarbone. "Do you think we would be soulmates in every universe like how we are now?" I asked, not even sure if he'd answer or not, but I felt his head lift ever so slightly to look at me as he spoke. "You're gonna be my partner in every life and universe, even when we're old and grey, and you do that little knitting thing with the yarn and have grandkids, we'll still be together torturing Samu," he responded, earning a laugh as he kissed me. It felt like it always did, like I was sixteen again, kissing him for the first time in his room because we thought it would be better to practice kissing with each other so whenever we got our own partners, we didn't look silly.

"I hope Samu knows we'll become more insufferable with time," I mumbled against his lips as I turned my phone off. His head fell right back to its original position, sprawled out all over me as if he was my personal blanket. "He'll know, I can tell," he responded with a small smile.

[bitchwhoreofastorm]

Jurgen was enjoying a peaceful morning of deep contemplation in his chambers when the sound of a fierce argument arose just outside of his door. Long experience with his compatriots gave him the wisdom to arise and begin to drag his desk in obstruction of the entrance, but alas, he was too slow; the wooden door was thrown open with a violent clatter, and the incarnate of fury roiled into the room.

"I've had enough of her!" bellowed Hoag. The dark, diminutive man was practically frothing at the mouth, frenziedly waving about something Jurgen couldn't quite see. "Enough of her, Wind-Caller, she ought to be stopped! She ought to-- she ought to be put down like a dog!"

"You're over-reacting!" Barfok shouted from further down the passageway.

Jurgen briefly contemplated whether he could push Hoag back down the stairs, but in that moment of hesitation, Hoag had already forced his way past the desk that had meant to keep him out, penetrating Jurgen's previously-serene sanctum. "Deal with her, Wind-Caller!" Hoag spat, "Deal with her or I'll-- I'll--"

"My King," Jurgen interrupted him, pinching his own nose. "Let's all calm down for a moment. What has she done now?"

"I'll tell you what she's done!" Hoag shouted. "She's gone and anthropomorphized my lunch!" And he thrust his hands towards Jurgen.

The object in Hoag's hands was a haunch of roast ox, but it held itself with a dignity that surpassed its humble origin. In the light glinting from its marinated surface it surveyed the room with calm acceptance, observing its crude surroundings with the plain-hearted absence of judgement that set all of Skyrim's peasants apart from their supposed betters. It remained steady as Hoag waved it at Jurgen, unperturbed, as if thinking: 'And you are the so-called leaders of this Empire? You are the men I should call Lord?'

"He's over-reacting!" Barfok had finally appeared in the doorway, panting from the long climb, her pale hair disheveled and falling out of its braids. "It's a joke," she protested to Jurgen, "A silly joke, a prank, that's all!"

"A joke!" roared Hoag, pivoting around. "You bitch, it's a guilt-evoking metaphor for the lowest of my subjects! How am I supposed to eat it now!"

"If you get queasy when your lunch alludes to the petty-folk you send out to die into battle, well, that says more about you than it does about my pranks, doesn't it!"

The ox haunch regarded this argument with bemusement. As did Jurgen.

"She's been at this all day," said Hoag through gritted teeth, returning his attention to Jurgen. "She went and messed with Chemua's soup--"

"Oh that was funny," Barfok guffawed.

"-- Turned it into a complex metaphor for shame. Put him in the foulest mood. And now she goes and ruins my lunch! You've got to make her quit it, Jurgen. Morale's bad enough out there without her turning things into allusions and euphemisms and such!"

Jurgen exhaled through his nose. "Barfok," he said patiently, "Stop turning people's food into literary devices."

"Hey!" Now it was Barfok's turn to push her way into the room, crossing her arms defensively in front of her chest. "Don't you take his side because he's a wimp! It's a joke, Jurgen, a silly little goof-about to make the men laugh. He's the only one who's got a problem with it!"

"Yes, well, he's louder and more irritating. We don't stop a baby bawling because the baby's in the right."

"I'm no babe!" Hoag interjected. "I'm your King even now, Wind-Caller!"

Does this man deserve fealty? the roast ox seemed to say, when Jurgen's gaze fell upon it. He closed his eyes briefly.

"Barfok," said Jurgen, "Please, just-- stop."

A shadow fell over Barfok's usually-jolly face. She narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin at Jurgen, staring at him coolly from over her round cheeks. "Why should I?" she said slowly.

"I'm begging you, Sister in Kyne! Do me a favour and keep the peace?"

"Aye, you hear him? Keep the peace!" Hoag directed his wrath once more at Barfok. "You're toeing the treason line, sabotaging us like that! We're getting our arses beat by the elves and you think it cheers anyone up when their saltrice is a biting allusion to the evils of occupation? Get a grip, woman!"

"Stop yelling at me!" Barfok snapped. "I don't take orders from either of you! Nay, not even you, Wind-Passer! And I ent standing here while a couple old nannies squeal at me to mind my manners! Look, Hoaga, even your ox thinks you're pathetic!"

The ox haunch did, indeed, seem to have taken on a scornful air. It had borne witness to the discourse of Nirn's most powerful men, and it had come away disenchanted with both the airs of power and those that bore it. Its scathing observation was enough to bring them to shame.

"Hoag," Jurgen said tersely, "She has a point. I can't control her. Why not go to Ysmir about her?"

The hue of Hoag's face had deepened to a striking crimson. "Because he agrees with her," he said through gritted teeth.

"Ysmir has a sense of humour," Barfok said with pride.

"He encourages her tomfoolery!"

"I framed his chambers with subtle imagery of a forsaken homeland, and you know what? He liked it."

"Traitors and soul-sick fools, both of you!"

"Well," announced Jurgen, as calm as a man being judged by a haunch of meat could possibly be, "That settles it. You just have to let her do as she pleases."

Hoag's face flushed, somehow, even redder. "Let her!" he roared indignantly. "Let her lose this war with japes!"

"And what can you do about it?" Barfok asked smugly. "I'm the stronger Tongue."

"We can't command her, Hoaga," said Jurgen. "So. You'll just have to live with it."

"Damn you! You're meant to be the peace-making one! Can't you negotiate with her?"

"Oh, keep whinging, Hoaga, I'll turn your trousers paradoxical next!"

"The matter is settled," said Jurgen firmly. "Now, both of you, get out of my chambers."

"To Apocrypha with you, Wind-Caller! You know what?" Hoag turned his attention to Barfok, waving his accusing haunch in Jurgen's direction. "Why don't you mess with him this time? Hey? Why don't you, I don't know, fill his desk with symbolism or something!"

"Why, Hoaga, you know I'd do anything you ask!" Barfok said cheerfully.

Jurgen blinked. "Wait--"

He had barely begun to inhale for a counter-thu'um before Barfok sung out three crisp dovahzul words. Nothing happened, but everything was subtly, slightly different, as if they had just slipped from one dream to another-- disconcerting non-transition.

Jurgen blinked again. "Barfok," he said slowly, "What did you just--"

"Oh, would you look at the time, Hoaga!" Barfok butted in. "I'm late for my lunch! Good talk, Jurgen, dremyollock, make sure to shut your windows!" And before Jurgen could intercept her she had lurched out of the door and was rushing down the stairs, leaving behind only the receding sound of triumphant cackling.

Hoag looked from the doorway, to Jurgen, and then, finally, to the large window that dominated one side of the room. He drew in a breath. "Now that's just grim," he muttered, before taking a morose bite of his ox haunch. And, without further explanation or farewell, he turned and followed Barfok out of the room, leaving Jurgen in much-desired solitude.

For several seconds Jurgen stood facing the doorway. He pressed his fingertips to his temples. He contemplated whether he had the courage to turn around.

Finally, he turned to face the window.

The curtains hung limp against the pane, like the sails of a ship bereft of air, betraying a stagnation, a stranding, a loss of all will to go on. Though the window was open, no breeze stirred them, as if Kyne herself had abandoned the sorry scraps of fabric. Against the backdrop of the clear sky outside, the faded blue of them was outright depressing...

[good-to-drive]

I'm imagining they were all given a Rubik's Cube as a present/joke, and left to fiddle with it during a press conference.

PAUL:

Paul is immediately worried he's the only one who doesn't know how to solve it. He surreptitiously glances at the others, sees that none of them know what to do either, and calms down considerably.

He'll just pretend to try for a bit. Move a side here, a side there. Pause to stare at it in contemplation. Politely put it down and ignore it when he's asked a question.

That night he meticulously takes the cube apart with a screwdriver and puts it back together solved.

He casually mentions the next day that he solved it, but doesn't make a big deal out of it. He's relieved no one seems to care.

Decades later, he admits he took it apart. He makes it such a fun story. His fans are split on whether this is cute and silly like he seems to think, or if it's proof that this man so often stereotyped as cute and silly is actually savvy and clever and complex.

They also lament bitterly that he's so hated for this cute, clever story. That's how Paul is treated in this society.

Everyone else hears the story and thinks, "Huh, that's kinda weird that he did that," and never thinks about it ever again.

GEORGE:

Immediately obsessed.

The entire world disappears. It's just George and The Cube.

He can't put it down, but he also can't solve it. He tries a million strategies, none of them work.

He starts taking notes on what he has and hasn't tried, comparing various solutions, reading everything about group theory and manual and computer cubing methods he can get his hands on.

It's been several weeks now. He's shirking all of his other responsibilities, neglecting his loved ones. His family is worried about him. They don't know it's The Cube that's got him, he doesn't have time to explain.

Finally, he thinks he's developed an original algorithm to find optimal solutions. He tests it a few dozen times. It works.

He thinks, "That was fun, I guess," and puts the cube away and forgets about it forever.

Sometime after his death, the cube and the solution are discovered. It's framed as an expression of his fascination with unanswered questions, how an uncontrolled instinct to learn new things shaped so much of his life. It's a metaphor, really, and it's a very interesting and revealing story.

It's a guy solving a Rubik's Cube.

The story has no legs.

JOHN:

He tries for about 30 seconds before getting bored. He puts the cube down. He wants to talk to Paul, but Paul is busy pretending to solve it. No one is asking him anything. This is boring.

He takes out a pen and starts doodling little faces on the squares to pass the time. He forgets the cube when he leaves.

Years later, the cube is worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. It has become a symbol of his wacky creativity and disdain for the rules, of an unpredictable mind and a childlike imagination.

People say it's the sign of a man who's only choice when faced with an unsolvable problem is to turn it into art.

They argue about whether any of the faces are supposed to be Paul (and you're fucking stupid if you don't think they all are, god.)

People also rage against the cube and the cult of personality around it. This same childish disdain for the rules caused problems for everyone around him, they insist. Those mean little caricatures of Paul are so petty, and actually, they don't look like him at all. John was obsessed with him, god.

It garners far more attention than Paul's cube even though Paul's cube is actually solved.

RINGO:

Immediately decides he can't solve it.

No, that looks really hard, and he's not the smart one, he's The Drummer. He plays it off with a self-deprecating joke.

He absentmindedly turns a couple of sides, just for something to do. Oh, if he turns this piece like that, and this one like that... and then if he....and then...

Shit. He solved it. He solved it.

How did that even happen?

Is he some kind of savant?

Are people going to expect him to be some kind of savant now?

This is so cool, but it also kinda sucks.... He doesn't even know how he solved it, he definitely doesn't know if he can do it again. Maybe he should mess it up. Choose to remain The Drummer, the dopey guy, to keep his newfound brilliance a secret to escape the expectations and closer examination that come with that kind of attention. Yes, he'll mess it up, that's the only thing to do--

Oh, wait, there's five other sides. It's not solved anyway.

Never mind, then.

Me and my brothers used to play this game where we'd make up how such and such a person would solve a Rubik's Cube (e.g. Alexander the Great would solve a Rubik's Cube by peeling off all the stickers so the whole thing is one color and that means he won, Stalin would solve a Rubik's Cube by having the cube shoved up Ernő Rubik's ass until he agrees to publicly declare that Stalin is the best Rubik's Cube solver ever in history) and I'd like to do a post like this for The Beatles but I suspect it would exclusively appeal to me and my brothers

[peach-sea]

Vocaween Day 2: scientist Gakupo from the Melancholy of Detective Yowane Haku

[aslitheryprinx]

Fake Fic Titles:

You Look So Different When You're Sleeping

Under The Moonlight

Please Don't Leave Me

There's A Monster in the Sky, in the Wood, in the Fields

These prompts are all so good!! Again, I kind of wrote a LOT for this lol. I hope you enjoy!

CW: some fear and panic, sacrifice.

Nothing too dark this time.

You look so different when you're sleeping

A borrower is rarely active during the day. It is much safer to borrow when the humans are asleep, less likely to see you. Ranboo has no desire to borrow during the day. The very few times he's been awake while the humans were have been terrifying. He's never even had a close call; there's just something frightening about watching humans move and interact with the world, even from a hidden position. They're too fast for something so large; too attentive, too intelligent. They are loud and smart and utterly petrifying, and Ranboo will stick to borrowing at night, thank you very much.

But... In the darkness, in the peace and quiet of the night, the humans aren't quite as frightening. They're still and calm while they sleep, expressions lax and breathing deep and slow. It's almost... Peaceful seeing the giant beings so still and gentle.

He probably shouldn't be here, shouldn't be watching the human sleep with such fascination. But he's done everything thing he needs to do... And everything he doesn't need to do. He has no chores to keep him occupied, has enough food stored to last for weeks if it keeps that long. He has nothing to do, and finds himself drifting to the human's room. He climbs the nightstand, only a little nervous at how close he is to the dangerous being, and watches.

It's relaxing somehow, and the human looks much less like a dangerous threat like this. He looks more like a person. Which he is, humans are people, but it's hard to remember that when they walk past and all he can think of is how easily a single step could crush him.

He feels calmer than he has in a while, and watching someone sleep makes him sleepy. He's tempted to blink his eyes shut, but he can't while still in a dangerous place. But he's tired enough he should probably head home.

Ranboo stands up, and is about to start the climb back down the nightstand when the human shifts.

Instantly he's alert, adrenalin flooding his body. He doesn't know whether to run, try to make it to the floor before the human wakes up or to hide on the nightstand and pray he isn't seen.

He's too slow to decide, to frozen with indecision, and the humans eyes snap open. A second later, an eye half his size filled with a terrifying amount of intelligence rests on him.

There's a blink as the human registers his presence, then the human is sitting up, laser focused on him.

Ranboo trembled under the gaze, wishing he could just teleport away to safety. The human had looked much less terrifying when he was sleeping.

Under the Moonlight

Please don't leave me

Ok I'm just gonna bullet point this one lol.

Phil is an immortal with a strange curse

When he's beneath the moonlight, he can move. But when he's no longer touched by the light from the moon, he freezes into a solid statue.

This causes a lot of problems, and he's found out the hard way that's he can't die. If he's smashed to pieces, he'll just wake up beneath the next moon, completely fine.

One night when the moon is not out, a strange man finds him and takes him home.

The man, Technoblade, restores damaged statues, sculpture, and similar art in his free time, and Phil is apparently damaged enough to need restoration.

Eventually Phil is placed by a window. The problem is, the moon only shines through for less than an hour each night.

Phil needs to figure out how to escape outside in that short time frame... Without alerting the human, who seems far too perceptive.

Wilbur should've known better. Really, falling asleep while outside of the fae realm? That was just asking for trouble. Any human, or just a wild animal for that matter could stumble across him and that would be that.

At least he'd had the sense to stay in his insect form. To any passing humans, he just looked like a butterfly. Perhaps his brilliant blue wings were a little unusual, but not enough to draw suspicion.

Unfortunately, his butterfly appearance did not seem to help him any this time. Because when Wilbur woke up, he was in a jar.

He'd been caught, by a human child no less. And according to the natural laws of the world, his magic wouldn't work once he'd been trapped, not until his captor decided to release him.

Wilbur was in quite the conundrum. There was no way the kid was going to release a cool butterfly he caught. But if Wilbur revealed himself, there was no guarantee he'd want to release the even cooler fairy. Still, being in his normal form would at least give him a chance of talking his way out, and he didn't want to spend the rest of his life in a jar.

With a sigh, he shed his insect disguise. As expected the kid gasped, and gazed down at him with wide eyes.

"Woah!!!" the young human gasped, raising the jar higher and staring at Wilbur. He couldn't lie, having someone so much larger than him looking so closely at him was a little unnerving. But Wilbur put on a charming smile to talk to them.

"Hello!" He said, and the human kid grinned.

"Hi!" He replied excitedly. "You're a fairy? I've never met a fairy before! What's your name?"

Did... Did the child not know anything about fairies? Did he not know the power names held? Well if not, Wilbur certainly wasn't going to tell him. He also wasn't going to give him his full name, whether or not the kid could use it or not.

"You can call me Wilby," he said, unable to tell a complete lie. It was a little bit embarrassing to give the kid his childhood nickname, but it would do.

"Wilby," the kid repeated and despite his awkward situation, Wilbur had to fight the urge to coo. The kid didn't say his own name, however, so he decided to push slightly.

"What's yours?" He asked, not an ounce of deception in his voice.

"I'm T- uhhh I mean I can't tell you. The adults say we can't give our names to strangers."

Damn. At least he didn't know why, which meant Wilbur still might be able to get out of this.

"That's ok," he says, showing none of his disappointment. "We'll just have to become friends first."

He's a little startled when tears spring up in the kid's eyes and he sniffles. Oh dear.

"Really?" The kid asks. "You'll really be my friend, Wilby?"

That should have no right to make his heart melt. He was trapped in a jar for fuck sake! He needed the kid to free him, not make him feel soft.

"Of course," Wilbur said. "Could you let me out of the jar first?"

The kid hesitates and he fights the urge to curse. It's worth a try, but he gets the feeling it won't be that easy.

"But... if I let you out, you'll go away," the human says sadly. It's true, but Wilbur refuses to feel guilty for that fact. "And then I won't have any friends at all."

"I can't be your friend if I'm in a jar," Wilbur tries. "Then I'm just a prisoner." The kid hesitates even more.

"How about this," Wilbur hedges. If you promise to let me out, I'll be your friend."

The human lights up.

"You promise?" He asks. Wilbur words his promise very carefully, knowing he'll be held to it by his own nature.

"I promise that if you let me out, I'll be your friend," he says, and the human cheers.

"Now we're friends forever!" He says excitedly. "And I'll let you out when we get home and you can live with me and, and-"

Wilbur tunes him out. He can feel the promise taking hold, which means the kid really does intend on letting him out. Luckily being friends with someone doesn't influence his mind, but he's still in the jar.

"Hey, do you want to play a game?" He asks. The kid brightens.

"Yes! What game?" He nearly shouts.

"We'll play Simon Says," Wilbur says with a grin. The name had become commonplace, but few humans knew the origin of the game.

"Can I go first?" The kid asked. If Wilbur interpreted the question as the kid playing first rather than giving the commands then...

"Yes," he said truthfully, as all fairies must. "But we're going to play a more fun version. You use your own name instead."

"Oh," The human said, disappointed. "But I'm not supposed to tell my name to strangers."

Wilbur feels victory, tantalizingly close.

"Well we aren't strangers anymore, are we?" He asks reasonably. The child's face brightens, and he gasps in delight.

"You're right," he says. "we're friends now! My name is Tommy!"

And just like that, Wilbur has his ticket to freedom.

"Tommy," he croons, testing the power behind the name. Tommy instantly sways in place, eyes glazing over.

"Saemonsae, Tommy," Wilbur says, speaking the true name of the spell that gives him power over anyone who gives up their name. It's the easiest spell to perform; he never met another fairy who couldn't use this spell. Even while trapped, the spell was child's play.

"Open the jar, Tommy," he commands sweetly. Instantly, the child is moving, unscrewing the lid. Wilbur flutters free, heart soaring. He circles the dazed human's head a few times before landing on the lid of the jar.

If he were a crueler being, he could pay back the imprisonment a hundredfold. If he wished, he could make Tommy do anything he wanted. A dark part of him, the part that was the most instinctual part of being a fairy, wanted to. It wanted to trap the silly boy and show him that fairies weren't toys, weren't creatures to be trifled with.

The rest of him knew that Tommy was just a kid. He would make Tommy take back the deal, the one that still bound him to be the child's friend.

But... Tommy was crying. He froze, watching the kid, still under his power sniffle. Maybe he was scared? It was very likely. He didn't have control of himself anymore, and that would scare most adults.

"Wilby," Tommy sniffled. Wilbur was morbidly curious. What would the child say while scared? Would he ask to be spared? To be freed? Wilbur wouldn't hurt him regardless, but he wanted to know. He let Tommy keep talking.

"Wilby, are you leaving?" He asked, and suddenly another part of Wilbur rose up at the desperation in the child's voice. He felt his face soften, and then Tommy spoke the final words that pierced Wilbur's heart.

"Please don't leave me alone," the little human child begged. Not worried at all about Wilbur abusing the power he had and hurting him; just wanting Wilbur to stay. How lonely was this young human, that he became so attached to the first friendly person he met? (And how soft was Wilbur, that he was already attached as well?)

"I won't leave you," Wilbur decided on a whim.

Fairies could be many things. Cruel and kind, gentle and vicious, completely truthful while being manipulative. They were also be selfish.

Wilbur liked Tommy. He was his friend because of the promise he'd made, the one that he could make the child release at any moment. But the human was also lonely and sad, and the fairy decided he was Wilbur's.

"Saemonsae, Tommy," he repeated, and the human would do as he asked. "You're going to live with me."

There's a Monster in the Sky, in the Woods, in the Fields.

It has been centuries since humanity was safe on the surface. When the Endless War of the the gods broke out, at the end of it all, the earth went to the victors. It was only by the grace and mercy of the dual gods of the Underground and Wealth that humanity was not subjugated by the powerful gods above.

The cave Tommy's village lives in is close; far too close to the territories of several very powerful gods. Their village gives sacrifices every year; the best cow in the village, the most bountiful portion of their crops. Yet still, the gods seek unsatisfied. Each year the twisting trees from the woods grow closer, and the wild crops from the field creep towards the entrance of their cave, and the sky peeks more and more through the slowly crumbling ceiling of the cave.

For centuries, the village has increased their sacrifices, giving all they can without starving their own people. Each household gives until it hurts, leaving behind everything they can spare, sometimes parting with sentimental items. It's never enough. Finally, there is only one more way to escalate the sacrifices.

They must give the gods a life to be free.

With great reluctance, the elders choose a child to be sent out. He is innocent, and he is alone. His sacrifice will be tragic, but better a poor waif with no family to miss him then one of the children of the families around. It must be a child; innocence is essential to a good sacrifice and they cannot afford to slight the gods.

The boy's name is Tommy, and he's terrified as he's tied up and dragged go the entrance of the cave. The priests are covered head to toe, so they tread as little on sacred ground as possible. Tommy is barefoot, dressed only in loose robes that fall past his knees.

He shakes as he's placed perfectly between the wild fields and dark woods, open and seen by the sky above.

The priests tie the ropes to the ground and return to the village, muttering prayers as they go. No matter how he tries, Tommy cannot free himself from the bindings. He struggles until he hears a snap of a foot on a branch.

From the woods, he comes. He is the first to arrive, and the sight of him makes Tommy's heart tremble in his chest from the sheer terror.

He is a giant, as the gods tend to be. Towering easily above the trees of his domain, and looking down at where Tommy lays bound with a curious gleam in his eyes. His eyes are a warm brown like sunwarmed soil. Brown eyes should not be able to glow, but rules don't apply to gods. His curling brown hair looks a bit like branches, and he has a crown of leaves braided around his head like a circlet. It distracts him for a moment from the pointed ears that could never be mistaken as human and the razor sharp fangs from a mouth big enough Tommy felt faint with fear.

"What have we here?" The god asks, voice melodic and resonating through Tommy's entire being. There's something almost sad in his voice, and Tommy feels the emotion despite his fear. "A little gift from the humans, I suppose."

"Are you sure this gift is for you?" a deep voice calls from behind Tommy. He freezes, a fresh wave of terror washing over him. He turns to find a second god, standing tall and proud in the fields.

He is meant to be a god of harvest, but the scent of blood fills Tommy's nose. The god looks far more like a king than a farmer, with an intricate crown of gold resting on his head. His hair is a vibrant pink, and Tommy had never found the color so intimidating as when this powerful looking god wore it. His ears and mouth were the same as the other gods, but his eyes were a terrible red, looking like blood might spill from them at any moment.

"After all," he continued, and the powerful sound made Tommy feel like his bones were vibrating in his body, "he seems to be in my field."

"Perhaps," the god of the forest says, and although there is no anger in his voice, Tommy tenses at what must be a growing argument between gods.

"You cannot deny," the Woods continues, "That he is also in my forest. He is partially bound to the roots of a tree."

"And partially bound to the soil of my fields," the harvest god finishes.

Tommy squeezes his eyes shut, breathing shakily. It is said gods rarely share. Especially when it comes to matters of power, such as sacrifices, they will not accept others taking what is theirs. Will they fight to have all of him? Or will they tear him perfectly in half, split him and call it even? No matter the outcome, Tommy doesn't see himself surviving, and he whimpers quietly.

The sound of wings fluttering startles him, and he opens his eyes. The two gods must have heard it as well, because they fall silent.

Tommy's eyes catch a single feather, floating down from the sky. Despite the third shadow that is now falling over him, all he can do is watch the falling feather as is slowly drifts down, landing right next to him. It is as black as the night, looks soft as silk... And is twice as long as he is tall. He shudders uncontrollably, finally gazing up at the third god; the god of the sky.

He catches sight of him and his breath catches in his throat. That is not a mere god of the sky.

Wings as dark as death stretch behind him. He is cloaked in dark green robes that cover his hands. Soft blonde hair falls around his face, and an unmistakeable hat covers his eyes and his pointed ears. Tommy has seen his likeness carved into countless statues, painted onto the walls of the cavern, etched into books.

This was one of the Two; this was the Angel of Death, the god over all endings.

"Don't tell me you have a claim on him as well," the forest god says lightly, and Tommy shudders at the idea. The Angel of Death laughs.

"He's been placed equally between Woods, Fields and Sky; I believe we are meant to share him."

The gaze of three gods, one of them one of the two most powerful beings in the universe fall on him, and Tommy's terror becomes too much to handle. His vision goes dark, and he knows no more.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Greasy Weasel x Reader || Oneshot

Title: Lottie

Notes:

Pay no mind to the title- its just an homage to the original piece this is inspired by/for, for my own happiness ^^

So this is an experiment XD I don't think I got Greasy's character quite right (Even if it IS supposed to build on what little info we have) but I like it... sorta... I like the first bit, anyway XD

Plot: Greasy has known you nearly your whole life (Since you were left on the Toon Patrol's doorstep, anyway, with a note that said you belonged to Smart Ass), he raised you- but what happens between the two of you when you return from the Navy 4 years after shipping off cannot be constituted as platonic, in any way.

Warnings: Age difference, Dads friend/Friends kid (NOT pedophilia, Reader is like 24 in this and there were no feelings from his end until now), possible sexual references (I mean its Greasy so what do you expect), etc.

Glaring over your salad, which you play irritated with with your fork, as you lean back in your chair. "Greasy can we talk, in the hallway?" The fury is coursing through you right now, like the goddamn Nile. Where does he even get off saying stuff like this? He is in no position...

He must- he m u s t detect the absolute blood lust in your eyes as he takes a break from leaning on Chase, to you. But look ashamed at all, he does not as he shrugs - but does not speak. A tell tale sign that he's just as, if not more frustrated in the moment and as such, is so not in the mood to get berated, - and gets out his seat; heading for the hallway.

You watch him go with glaring eyes, not moving an inch, before looking at the rest of the table including Chase and taking a breath. Calm down Y/N, keep the anger to yourself... until you talk to Greasy, at least.

"Sorry about this guys, and Dad... " Your gaze flickers the the hallways door and you hop out of your seat, itching to tear into Greasy for his behaviour tonight, and the past couple days actually. "I'll be right back."

You pass your father on your way out, sitting in a recliner chair with earmuffs over his head to block out his family for a while.

As soon as you reach Greasy at the end of the hall, your face twists into a total scowl; all inhibitions and constraints disappearing.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?"

"I do not know what you mean, bonita." He mumbles around his grit teeth, arms crossed and resistant. You clench your fists, totally frustrated. Bitter, spiteful, awful man!

"The hell you don't. What was all that!? You've been acting like this since I got home! If you didn't want me back here, then you could've just said it! Woulda hurt a hell of a lot less then this."

At least at that, his shoulders relax for a moment- but his expression does not soften. And neither does the steel in either his eyes or his voice when he yells back, throwing an arm out to express his anger. "It isn't that I didn't want you back home, Y/N, its that you brought some inválido, with you! I did not expect that, from you!"

"Chase is not invalid- " You gasp, horrified at the way Greasy is speaking. Where is all the disgust, coming from? Greasy isn't like this, normally... in fact, you don't think you've ever seen him this senselessly an ass. Why!? "And you say that like its some mortal sin! I brought a boy home, I didn't kill someone- which you would not have the high ground over, either!"

"This was supposed to be family time! You've been gone for years and the first nights you're back, its with some chico!? He must mean a maldito mucho to you for you to possibly think he's worth hanging around with us right now."

"First of all, he does mean a lot to me. He's my friend- " Under his hat, you see Greasy's eyes deeply roll- a huff coming out of him as he tightly crosses his arms again. Like yeah right- "No, no. He is. Shut up. And second of all- if you just wanted to be with family then you could have just said! That doesn't excuse your behaviour." You glare ferociously, waiting for the real reason. Is he drunk, or something?? Honest to god you are baffled by the way he's acting- he's usually cooler then this. Out of any of your father's gang, he was the one you never really had to worry about. His antics made you laugh- but this? This makes you want to cry. Or scream.

You've gone for the second option.

"He does not see you as just a friend." He mutters back petulantly, avoiding looking at you now; Pulling his fedora down more over his face.

"So what!?" Even if he does, why would that make Greasy so mad? You cross your own arms. "You aren't my father and its is not your job to protect my 'chastity', Greasy."

He suddenly goes quiet, though the wrath from before is still clear in way his jaw is clenched. "... I know I'm not your father... " He mutters.

Something about that phrase stumps you. Of course he knows, but why does he look so ashamed? You uncross your arms, and take a deep breath.

"... Okay." Your eyes flash, looking up at him again; Anger still not sated. "Then why are you acting insane and harassing my guest!?"

A growl rips out of him and he bumps the brim of his hat upwards so he can look at you again, right in the eye. "I told you, I don't like that you brought him into this house!- "

"That's not it!" Its not. He's acting crazy about a boy who's acting absolutely lovely and polite. Its not.

You just want him to tell you what it really is that you did. You don't want to keep fighting with him, not with Greasy. You want your silly, campy, perverted Greasy back. Not this rotten version in front of you right now.

"It is!"

You press your fists brattily to your hips. "Is not!"

He bares his teeth and leans forward. "Is!"

"Not!-"

And then all the tension comes to a head, and something absolutely mad happens.

The first thing that you notice is the smell of his stupid expensive perfume filling your nostrils and embracing you, then your your hands curled tightly around the lapels of his suit, and finally the feeling of warmth and tingliness all over your body.

Because you're kissing Greasy.

Your perverted Greasy, one of your fathers best friends, one of the men that raised you, your teenage crush. Your kissing him on the lips and he's slowly reciprocating, his mouth moving carefully, but purposefully against your as he moves his body closer.

But there's anger, too. Your teeth are going to ache when you pull back for pressing into the kiss too hard and the tips of your fingers will pang when you let go of him but not quite yet-

Two sets of lips part and Greasy does this thing with his tongue that tears a long overdue moan out of you, and immediately he rears back like he was burnt. And you're left standing there cold again, completely shocked.

And aroused.

But mainly shocked, because you never expected that to happen but it did and now what are you both going to do?

The air is absolutely silent as you both catch your breaths, from the kiss and also from the fight, and hope your hearts stop beating quite so erratically very soon so you can act normal.

Then, because you've waited for this for too long and the moment is too good to pass up, you step over and kiss him again.

And he kisses you back, like he's totally unable to help himself from kissing you.

All the frustrations and tensions of the past few weeks go into it oh my god- you never expected Greasy to be able to kiss totally well, but it certainly does the trick as it has you holding onto him like your life depends on it, chasing your own pleasure but also experimenting- trying to drag pleasant reactions from him. See what he likes, make him moan.

Between kisses, he mutters 'Cariño... ' warningly, carefully. Like he knows he should stop but you're too good.

When you both finally pull back again minutes later, you're both wide eyed again though far less shocked about your actions, then before.

More scared.

"Don't tell Dad."

___REWIND: A FEW DAYS AGO WHEN YOU GOT HOME___

"Guys!" You scream, the moment your eyes land on the familiar group at the docks, utter excitement fills you up and you almost want to cry as you drop your bags with your friend in order to rush over to your family and throw your arms around the first man you reach- Stupid. "I missed you. I missed you, I missed you so much!!" You squeeze him, the familiar soft, worn feel of his shirt rubbing on your face as you cant help but smile.

"Duhh, Y/N!! We brought you (Favourite snack)!" Stupid informs above you, but squeezes you back in a moment, a happy whine escaping him at having you back there with him. And your hugs.

"Ohhh," Now you really want to cry. You're so overwhelmingly happy to be home and to see them again- and they brought you food. "Now that's what I came home for... " You joke, giggling a little bit tearily before pulling back and almost running in to Psycho, who holds up the snack.

You just wrap him up in a quick, tight hug. As always he's the warmest- like a lizard who's been sitting out on a hot rock for hours.

Next you find your father standing expectantly for you, fake annoyed that you didn't come to him first. "Hey, kid. Yeah, I told 'em you'd be none-too happy to see us if we didn't have your damn food. But this is some reception, for a regular pack."

"Hey, Dad." Your voice comes out wobbly and weak but in a good way, as he takes you up in his skinny arms and pink suit holding your head the way fathers do; Like someone with a bat is coming up behind you but he doesn't want you to know and there's no way in hell, that you're about to get hurt on his watch. "I missed you so much."

He sighs, and grumbles something about feelings, before burning his head down into the hug. "I missed you more kiddo."

After you father curtly lets you go, nodding stiffly at you as if it would save him his tough guy reputation, your attention is stolen by a familiar rusty, painful sounding voice. "Hey there, chickadee. No hello for me?"

"Wheezy!" You exclaim, thrilled. He holds up his hands.

"I wont take it personal if you don't wanna a hug me- wouldn't wanna get all smelly."

You roll your eyes, grinning. "Whenever have I ever cared about that."

"Hm." He grins, and you too hug warmly for a moment then you pull back and greet the last of your boys.

"Bonita, its good to see you of course. Nice to see you got into such good shape over seas- almost as good as me." Greasy grins sharply, before you two collide excitedly, so happy to see each other again and you press a quick kiss to his cheek. You picked up the habit when you had a crush on him, in your teenage years. Now its just routine. Yours and Greasy's thing together.

You squeeze his arms one last time, before letting go. "Oh, guys- " Sniffling, all teary and happy, you hide your face and pull yourself together. "Ahh... I'm sorry." Greasy pats your shoulder, as they all chuckle at your show of emotion- not that they're doing hugely better. Psycho blows his nose into his sleeve, teary himself.

Your Dad, although honestly as happy and serene as he can possibly be, with his hands in his pockets and his little baby back, glances off to your luggage still laying amongst bustling travellers a few metres away and the corners of his lips tilt down. "Boys- go get Y/N's stuff. I don't want it gettin' stolen."

Finally, you pull yourself together. "I brought someone I want you to meet! My friend Chase, he's- he's only stopping off here before moving on to his home further inland. And I was hoping he could have dinner with us tonight? Just, cuz, you know, its both our first night back?"

Your Dad squints at the guy who looks like he's guarding our luggage, as Stupid and Wheezy go and collect it. "That green bean there?"

"He's talllllllllllllllllllll," Psycho comments, giggling as he judges Chase.

"Yep, him." You agree, hoping your father is okay with it. you would hate to leave Chase alone in his apartment the days before his flight. He needs a good, family cooked meal for his first night off the ship!

"Yeah I guess." Smart Ass sighs, shrugging and sighing. "I just got noise resistant headphones- I don't gotta communicate with no one."

You grin. "Thank you, Dad!"

"Whatever."

"A boy?" Greasy pipes up, curiously from beside you. You look over and find him sizing Chase up, then turns to you and smiles weakly- a pale imitation of a teasing smirk. "You brought home a handsome boy?"

Rolling your eyes, you pat him on the back before heading over to Chase; not thinking much at all of Greasy's comment of the odd look on his face. "One, he's a man." Greasy rolls his eyes. "And he's just a friend! Wait here guys, I'll bring him over!"

___Greasy's POV___

"Hmmm... a friend." I shake my head, crossing my arms as watch Y/N interact with this 'Chase'. She picks up one of his bags for him and flashes him one of her pretty smiles, and he watches her move on ahead of him back to us. Por supuesto. For sure.

I watch him as a nauseous feeling rolls in my gut. I know that watch. That is not a 'friend' watch. If he was but a friend, he would be more concerned about the loose wooden board he's standing on rather then the chica's behind.

Perhaps I should tell Smartass what that boy is looking at-

As they come over, the nauseous, grinding feeling in me just gets stronger and I decide against opening my mouth to speak. I'm afraid of whatever might come out- I've never been good at withholding my... feelings.

Its only when the boy catches up to her, and us, and he puts an arm over Y/N's shoulders as she introduces us, and I stiffen up like a wooden plank, that I identify the feeling.

Its something I certainly shouldn't be feeling.

Not about Y/N.

The boss will kill me.

Maybe I can ignore it. Wish it away. Its probably just that I haven't been with a woman in a while, now... Si, that must be it. I am desperate. I good night or two with a lovely lady and I'll be fine.

But then the boy kisses Y/N's cheek and I only just manage to swallow the growl that fights to be torn from the back of my throat at the sight, and I realise immediately that this is going to be more complicated then that.

Far more complicated.

"And this is Greasy! Greasy, Chase." Y/N introduces us brightly, presenting him like he's important and Chase good-naturedly offers his hand to me. All I see though is the devil.

"Nice to meet ya! Y/N's told me about you, I hope we can get along." He beams while I glower, not moving at all to take up his hand.

Oh I doubt that we will, 'Chase', I truly do.

"So Chika!" Promptly I turn to Y/N, a smile on my face as I slip between them and wrap an arm around Y/N, leading her up ahead of the others and especially him. "You haven't told us about your travels much- Psycho ate your last postcard. We have to discuss!"

She glances back, concernedly, at Chase but I just prod her to start talking.

Maybe I can right off these feelings as protectiveness... like I'm supposed to be. I watched this girl grow up and I want her to be happy! I'm like... a... father...

My stomach rolls at the idea, but I swallow the horror down. I have to.

[st4rsinthenight]

★M'kay, I am calm now, I suppose. Still a bit shocked, in a positive manner of course.— Im still happy stimming while typing this. /srs

maybe your sona got caught snatching donnie's stuff (つω`｡)?? it's supposed to be present dontron,, but he looks like future donnie so i guess he can also be that...? whatever you want!!! ヽ(>∀<☆)ノ(((o(*°▽°*)o)) (((o(*°▽°*)o)))

huuhhhh. it is a pretty cool scenario erh, they are like a alien borrower, who is a little too curious about the kind of stuff thay humans.. mutants— living beings in general have and such. Curiousity got the cat killed expect the cat is stellar being from outer space and.. they are not killed, yet, but rather caught by a mutant softshell who is also a scientist. Get caught little dum-dum, they be chased around for interrogation and such (—‹ —).

*..little nightmares theme songs playing in the background* (specifically 'The Way Out' it would be suitable for a chase that may or may not escalate into something more.. heated in the process?? I dunno)

((alt context could be that steren accidentally vwooped themself into the bad end future and was noticed by future purple man? (•⩊•)))

Oooh, Isekai I see— and in an universe where the world is basically infested with alien species. Alien species which tale says that they came from the stars as well.. wait a moment that could giveanotherreasonfordonnietohuntthemdown. /silly They may be seen as some sort of a threat to the base, thanks to how the Kraang has destimated the planet and well.. steren/astro is an alien after all.

Also the reference that you used for my sona is like peak humour. I think. /gen

the original donnie looking down at steren before i realized it doesn't quite make sense and extended it with the addition of tilting everything,,, and the height difference between steren and donnie ((6 inches is 15.20 cm and 5'3 is 160 cm)) that i used!!!

Okay so, I assume that you had trouble with the perspective. Understandable, drawing perspective sucks and it can look a bit.. odd. More so trying to accurately capture the height/angle that you want the characters to look at. If that makes sense (—‹ —;). Though it is still cool that you tried, and you as well did some research on their heights as well— (accuracy is cool guys) /gen + /pos.

I feel envious of my sona's height. Why can't I be at a size where I can reach someone's ankle ?? I mean, I would encourage them to bite his ankle (and steal his moment) in case he tries to capture em or something that. Erh, they have no mouth. So that would not be an option. Still, I can envision them latching their tiny form onto his ankle or something and such, muahaha — scare the smart kid (or ..the old man).

sorry if i'm annoying you with these random art posts,, i don't want to make you feel like you have to respond every time (＃＞＜) (＃＞＜) !!!

M'kay, two words: It's fine

..more words, feel free to skip through this: I actually feel quite happy when you, or anyone else for that matter, creates something based on my stuff and such. Though I may get a little overwhelmed by it, positively though, I am not annoyed, you don't have to worry about that. As for you being worried about me feeling pressured about giving feedback, it's okay honestly. I do enjoy giving feedback to others and let them know that I acknowledge their work and such— as well as share my thoughts on stuff that is either made for me, or not. Though, I may not always give the same kind of lengthful feedback. I think. So in short, yeah, you're fine (0 ›0). /gen

i remember seeing you say something about a first-person g/t horror game and i thought of this a while after!! i think i drew this two to three days ago?? i drew steren first then donatello;;

..weeeergggg. /POS

first thing I am noticing is that you took inspiration of my idea for a G/t first person horror game. which, woah— this just give me the idea of—

*... little nightmares theme songs increasing in volume*

after that i realized that if i wanted it to be from the pov of steren looking up at him; i'd have to either redraw the entire thing ((i realized it only after i finished rendering)) or duplicate everything and use the transform thingy to fix the perspective and move the color layers to fit into the lineart :PPit made me take a break from it for like a day or two cause i got a little overwhelmed after shrimping over my pc screen for a few hours but i finished it!! ta-daahhh!!!! it still kinda doesn't look right to me

...urrhhh, unneeded reminder to not let your self get overwhelmed while doing something urh— shrimping over a computer screen ain't exactly the healthiest thing y'know. Glad you allowed your self to take a breather after all that work you put onto the art-piece though.

Erhhh, what else. I dunno. Cool gift =P /gen★

click on the image and up your brightness for the second pic!!! it came out darker than i expected it to LMAO ((it looks lighter on my laptop screen :<))

@starsinthenigth i'm not sure what the context of this is,, maybe your sona got caught snatching donnie's stuff (つω`｡)?? it's supposed to be present dontron,, but he looks like future donnie so i guess he can also be that...? whatever you want!!! ヽ(>∀<☆)ノ(((o(*°▽°*)o)) (((o(*°▽°*)o)))

((alt context could be that steren accidentally vwooped themself into the bad end future and was noticed by future purple man? (•⩊•)))

from left to right;; it's the reference i used for the fisheye lens thingy ((brock lee,, found it after searching 'fisheye' on pinterest HSHFKDJF)),, the original donnie looking down at steren before i realized it doesn't quite make sense and extended it with the addition of tilting everything,,, and the height difference between steren and donnie ((6 inches is 15.20 cm and 5'3 is 160 cm)) that i used!!!

sorry if i'm annoying you with these random art posts,, i don't want to make you feel like you have to respond every time (＃＞＜) (＃＞＜) !!!

i remember seeing you say something about a first-person g/t horror game and i thought of this a while after!! i think i drew this two to three days ago?? i drew steren first then donatello;; but after that i realized that if i wanted it to be from the pov of steren looking up at him; i'd have to either redraw the entire thing ((i realized it only after i finished rendering)) or duplicate everything and use the transform thingy to fix the perspective and move the color layers to fit into the lineart :PP

it made me take a break from it for like a day or two cause i got a little overwhelmed after shrimping over my pc screen for a few hours but i finished it!! ta-daahhh!!!! it still kinda doesn't look right to me ((i feel like donnie should still be a little bigger than that..? not sure though,, i can't exactly visualize how it would look very well)) but i don't feel like editing it a second time (ノ*°▽°*) (ノ*°▽°*) !!!! /lh

[tomorrow-human]

MY THOUGHTS ON iDKHOW'S ALBUM DEBUT: RAZZMATAZZ

So I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME have just released RAZZMATAZZ today and heres what I think...

[SIDE A]

¹LEAVE ME ALONE:

A bombastic opening track. Was released in the beginning of August...? Probably? This song just SCREAMS at you with retro futuristic funkiness. It has 8-bity flourishes in the instrumentation and seems to be maybe talking to the same person as Choke (from 1981 E.P.) and the title track Razzmatazz have been (or maybe a separate entity as suggested by the vinyl booklet and Indoctoration?).

Anyway, fantastic track, great opener, and nice mood-setter.

<><><><>

²INDOCTORATION:

It's... eerie. It's not a song in the same sense as Leave Me Alone, despite having a wobbly backing track. It's a spoken interlude that seems to be initiating you into Tellex maybe? It yet again mentions the White Shadows that will be overseeing your progress with Tellex. It seems oddly nostalgic for some reason. That's strange. Overall, solid little piece of lore building that really reinforces the concept aspects.

<><><><>

³MAD IQs:

It's the first song from this album that wasn't released as a single and it made my jaw literally drop. It has a similar lyrical and vocal structure to the opener and New Invention, but what I like is how much they were able to do with it, though it makes you wonder about how far apart these songs were written; but In the context of the albums concept and the Tellex stuff however, it could be interpreted as a corporate decision, this repetition. The minimal instrumentation in the verses with Ryan's sturdy drumming and Dallon's bassline makes me go fucking bananas. It's so fucking great and full of this punchy energy. And the HARMONIES. YES. "Voluntary victim~" "I'm burning~ in your mad IQs" SIR STOP BEING SO VOCALLY TALENTED. Also I think i heard him shriek right before the bridge which? Snazzy. So Mad IQs, energetic track, filled with more of iDKHOWs signature darkness.

<><><><>

⁴NOBODY LIKE THE OPENING BAND:

Ah yes, Opening Band. Ironic considering how often iDKHOW are the opening band, but I'm sure that's obvious, seeing how they usually sing this one at the start of their gigs. It was actually (I think) the first or second song I didn't know how but found through youtube so I might be pretty biased here. It's a sweet sounding change of pace with the instrumentation being made up of only the piano and tambourine that tells of a typical opening band, that no ones ever heard before and likely will never hear again, via a sympathetic narrator with a hint of the typical iDKHOW teasing. In all honesty, it would've worked better as the album opener, which then could've been followed by Leave Me Alone, but it's a nice change of pace overall.

<><><><>

⁵NEW INVENTION:

I already reviewed this song on my other blog right here so imma keep this brief. It shares similar aspects to Leave Me Alone, with the music video concept and song structure, but It manages to darken the narrative, and the choir-esq harmonies sound like ultra bright neon lights that only push this mood further. It still is a magnificent song and by far one of my favourites in the album.

<><><><>

⁶IN THE GALLOWS:

MASSIVE SHIFT IN STYLE HOLY FUCKOLY-. The track opens with a very cutesy old timey little piano intro and starts the verse with a little funny beat. If you don't listen to the lyrics, it sounds like a silly little oldie song. But as we all know, iDKHOW doesn't do silly. The lines "For you, I'd die▪︎Or kill myself▪︎which ever makes you smile," From just the first verse are a prime example of this. The narrators murderous and suicidal intentions have clouded the romantic attraction into obsession- And I kinda like that, in a poetic way. The chorus is a standout, with the calm start to the explosion in the line "I'd swing from the gallows and wave" that just swings at you with a baseball bat to the chest. Oh, and the sax solo? Magnificent. This whole song is a chefs kiss from me.

<><><><>

⁷CLUSTERHUG:

I love the lyrics of this song the most of it all. It sounds like a rebellious teenager wrote it after thinking about how shit their hometown is and wanting to get out. It also incorporates how much the narrator would want to do all this with their crush, adding that slightly goofy and pretend-aloof chorus of "only if you'd like me to I could fall in love with you" as if they weren't already in love or at least that's how I see it. The vibe of this song is more pop-y than the rest of the album, but that's more likely because it was repurposed for Razzmatazz after being originally written for The Brobecks, their older band. It's a nice little tune :).

[SIDE B]

⁸SUGAR PILLS:

This. Will. Get. Stuck. In. Your. Head- and. You. Will. Like. It. Basically, just seems like a song about drugs that, for some reason, reminds me of Gorillaz (who I dont even listen to). But the BASSLINE AGAIN- Jesus help me live. It has more of that energy we saw with the first few tracks and adds even more electronic elements. It's probably my second favourite song from this album that's not a single because of how fun the chorus sounds. What else can I say? I can just imagine myself bopping to this in the car screaming 'SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR PILLS' On a hot day.

<><><><>

⁹KISS GOODNIGHT:

It's so sweet 🥺. It's one of those songs I could imagine a character in a movie singing to someone from a stage. If you want pretty song vibes just listen to it. Because it is a pretty song. And that's all I have to say on it. Now allow me to take a moment and shove it into my pretty song playlist that acts like my personal lullaby machine.

<><><><>

¹⁰LIGHTS GO DOWN:

Yes. F u n k y. Give me that sweet sweet disco energy, thank you. It's just filled with all these *☆~blingy and sparkly~☆* effects, and, combined with the drumming, the result is just glorious. The best part of this song is in my opinion the bridge where it goes darker lyrically and in sound that just naturally slides into another funky-ass sax solo. I can definitely see myself dancing to this at a party and then in later years growing nostalgic for those days.

<><><><>

¹¹NEED YOU HERE:

It's supposed to be happy in tone and hopeful slightly but it just makes me sad. It's a song about how, because Dallon has to tour because it's his job, he has to be away from his family often. And he had nO RIGHT ADDING HIS DAUGHTERS VOCALS AND RECORDINGS INTO THE MIX ITS LIKE HE WANTS US TO CRY. It's not my favourite of the album, not going to lie here, but it's also such a sweet song with nice instrumentals and vibe 🥺 so that's all I'll say.

<><><><>

¹²DOOR:

It seems like this one was written around the time sad ukulele music was really at its peak but am I complaining? Fuck no because this song is great. It just gives it to you straight, that if the narrator ever does anything that the recipient doesn't like, they can always cut them out of their life. It's nice in that regard- you don't usually get songs that don't try to deflect the pain or gain pity. We need more of these kinds of songs. The shortness of it really adds to the effect of this being more like a regularly said thing, even though I'm always a bit sad that it ends so fast. It does, however, nicely close the near end of the album before Razzmatazz.

<><><><>

¹³TOMORROW PEOPLE:

Creepy Tellex thank-you note. You're welcome..? I want no part in your conspiracy tho. Go away weird American corporate man voice.

<><><><>

¹³RAZZMATAZZ:

And there it is. The title track. Like new inventions, I have already reviewed it here on that same blog so this will be brief also and more just thoughts. It's a great closer and is more old timey than most of the songs here as well. And with the last instrumental and sax solo, we come to the albums inevitable end... until next time.

[GENERAL THOUGHTS]

Overall, this was a fantastic little debut for iDKHOW and I loved it. So worth the pre-order. The songs were great and the lyrics were just excellent. My only real criticism is that the song order on Side A was a bit strange. I feel a way to fix this would be to throw Nobody Likes The Opening Band into the beginning, then have Leave Me Alone as a second track, and maybe even switch one of the songs on this side with one from Side B (either Mad IQs or New Invention with something else but then that would be kind of stretching it). Or maybe even switching Clusterhug with Mad IQs or New Invention could work. So in general? Razzmatazz good album. Next question.

<><><><>

Thank you for reading, anyone who happens to see this and have read this. Hope you've enjoyed some of my thoughts on the debut and agreed with at least 2 points I made. See y'all on another review (or shitpost)!

-L.J