#COMPLETELY UNPROMPTED and it's stuck in my mind so bad

[bibiana112]

Everyone's always so mad over unsolicited criticism but you know what makes me furious? Unsolicited comfort. Me simply not expressing myself the same way as you is not a sign that I'm depressed and in desperate need for you to come to my rescue, it is not an invitation for you to act like my one pillar of reliability or to act like my friend when you do not know my life, do not know wether I do have support, do not know I chose to be in this position you feel so uncomfortable looking at and on god you just don't get to pity me for living my fucking life the way I want to

[raaorqtpbpdy]

I just watched Blue Beetle and as much as I enjoyed it, I can’t say I’m not also a little disappointed.

Like it had all these fantastic elements! It had wonderful dynamic characters, and a very well established sympathetic secondary antagonist cast against a completely detestable primary antagonist, and a fun aesthetic, and cool technology, and great humor—I mean I watched it with my dad and brother and there wasn’t a single joke that didn’t make at least one of us laugh.

But it felt like all these stupendous pieces had been stuck together with duct tape and chewing gum instead of being stitched together properly and fully integrated with each other to create a cohesive story.

(spoilers under the cut)

I never advocate for movies to be longer because I’m not great at sitting still—but this is one movie that really could have used an extra ten minutes or so, just to slow down for proper scene transitions and to let people actually process the story aspects rather than just the characters.

I don’t want to knock its emphasis on family either, because it was not a bad thing by any means (I loved the family dynamic and it felt very organic and realistic), but it was sometimes redundant to the detriment of other necessary elements of the story.

Like the scarab, you know, the catalyst for the entire film?

It got treated as an object even after they learned it was sentient, and then largely ignored unless it needed to say or do something to progress the plot. They said it was sentient and then didn’t give it a personality. Even Jarvis had a personality in the Iron Man movies and he was just a computer program, not a sentient AI.

The only time I felt like the scarab was being treated as an actual character as it should have been instead of as an accessory was when Jaime’s mom pulled him aside and addressed it specifically when she gave them both her motherly pep talk, and then the callback to that pep talk during the subsequent fight scene, and I absolutely adored that moment, I just wish it wasn’t the only one.

They told us repeatedly that Jaime and Khaji Da were integrated and their respective minds were connected, but they didn’t really show that. They didn’t really address it at all outside of the way they fight together. Like these two characters are literally irreversibly fused together but somehow they never got an actual relationship dynamic.

Khaji Da immediately agrees when Jaime makes his no killing rule clear, despite obviously disagreeing before that point. It responds instantly when he asks for specific weapons. In fact, after the initial booting-up sequence, when it dragged Jaime around without consideration, it almost never disagrees with Jaime or exerts its own will at all, despite it being supposedly sentient.

It doesn’t even get a proper introduction. Jaime just starts calling it by name unprompted and that gets completely glossed over. They don’t even use it to further establish how their mental connection works.

The plot just skips over the inconveniences of a symbiotic relationship to jump into the action.

Also, any information we get about Kord or Khaji Da is rushed and simplified and then immediately gets tread on by the character development scenes. And I’m a sucker for good character development, which this movie has a lot of and which I loved, but you can’t throw necessary exposition and worldbuilding under the bus for it. A good movie and a good story needs both, and this one just wasn’t quite balanced right.

All in all, I definitely liked it, but I’m frustrated but the potential that was so agonizingly visible but that it didn’t quite live up to.

[ariadnesweb]

Erm miscellaneous Deltarune Shipping thoughts

Suselle - decent ship strangled by the red string. Suffers from the common kids shows 'so telegraphed its hard to see regular scenes between the two without seeing the big sign saying 'THESE TWO WILL BE TOGETHER'. Very frustrating, but also kind of its appeal. It's a 'safe' ship, with a confirmed get-together. Kind of a shame, I think it's underrated as a dynamic. A Princess and a Dragon are stuck in the tower waiting for a prince to arrive and set back the status quo, except the Dragon isn't really a mean bad guy, and the princess isn't really a helpless maiden. Would love to see Susie and Noelle have all their preconceptions about themselves be knocked down as they date each other. 7/10 I think they'd be sweet together, even if I struggle seeing them staying together post-game.

Kralsei - It's problematic. It doesn't take a lot of thought as to understand WHY it's problematic. Ralsei is somehow a derivative of Kris's brother, and that's uncomfy even if there is no formal sibling relationship.

Kris also does this, unprompted,

so I think the Kralsei shippers are still winning. 8/10 ship, constantly teased by canon, and a core relationship dynamic of the cast. Bounces between cute, rottingly sweet, and very uncomfortable. Hilarious in a morbid way.

Kriselle - Ship voted most likely to get sunk by either of the two calling each other 'siblings'. Is in some way related to Charasriel. Toby Fox probably has something against childhood friend romances. I genuinely think it's disrespectful to place Kris and Noelle romantically when they have an important friendship going on.

Unfortunately I'm a sucker for these two being sweet with each other, so 8/10 ship, I enjoy most art having these two around.

Ralsusie - Ship wins award for the currently most developed relationship in Deltarune. Have actually dated each other, Noelle called what she saw. Very enjoyable interactions whenever the two are onscreen. I can completely understand WHY anyone would ship these two, its a good relationship between a guy and girl.

I just... personally don't like thinking of these two as romantic. It's pretty much just a personal thing, I headcanon Susie as an Ace (Bisexual) and Ralsei as a repulsed AroAce (he doesn't know it yet.). 5/10 I don't get any enjoyment from it, but it's a good ship.

Krusie - I already wrote a bit for this ship, but since it's been a while since then, I still stand by what I say: No one but me gets them. This is a highly pretentious statement from me, and I don't think there's anything wrong with other Krusie shippers, I'm just not a fan of most Krusie content. Most people jump on the best-friend aspect and go from there into romance. I like this pairing best when it's a slowburn of two people with very different background slowly learning to communicate. Or as a background thing in which the pair act as one dumbass due to their similar thought processes being highly energized at finding a like-minded kin. Those two guys who are life partners in business and all that. 6/10. Enjoyable but I'm picky.

Krerdly - Not my thing, 5/10, there's probably valid criticism pointed at its surge in popularity as a way to deflect heteronormative Krusie & Kriselle shippers, but it's always awkward to punch down on a crackship. Basically lives and dies on the fervor of its shippers, and because it's mostly personal fan desire, I'd be hard-pressed to criticize it, you're all having fun. Um, if any Krerdly shippers find this post, don't take the criticism to close to heart? Pretty much depends on people's tolerances for rarepairs.

Asgorudy - I think Rudy should live if only to make this ship canon. 9/10, fun dynamic, but more importantly, encourages the Dreemurr-Holiday Divorce Saga - Now With Marriage?. Makes me endlessly curious to hear the Mayor's side of this story.

Seavil - Generally intriguing. Also a great way to characterize Seam and Jevil. I think the general quality of this ship depends solely on whether the creator understands Jevil. The more a creator understands that Jevil is a weird uncle with a penchant for breaking reality, the better the Seavil is. 9/10, if untainted by chapter 1 chaos gremlin Jevil flanderization.

Spamvil - Great fandom content VS 'I don't think these two are compatible in canon' FIGHT. This ship is boosted by the general quality and quantity of fan content, running with the implications of the sanity-breaking truth that broke these two old men. 8/10, I just think not all important relationships should be romances.

Krusielle - The main characters needed for a fluffy slice of life taking place in Hometown. Not my cup of tea. All the characters like each other, are nice, and are stable enough to live together. This is a bonus.

Persobally though, I'm more invested in the three duos that make up this ot3 (Krusie, Kriselle, and Suselle), to ship it. It doesn't help that Kriselle and Suselle are likely to leave the a member 3rd wheeling: Suselle is an explicitly romantic pairing, which has implications of exclusivity, and Kriselle is a strong relationship based on nostalgia, which would not include Susie (as of now).

[gaoau]

jonquil

it's the color of his eyes—but alive.

is there color in your world? warnings — none. word count — 1.2k

prev. — next.

[name] didn't seem to make any distinctions among her peers. whether it was pecking shijiki's head before following osamu to their lunch table, or threading her fingers through rintarou's hair completely unprompted at any given moment, she did it all. her colors reached anyone anywhere, from her closest friends to the student council president she had met only minutes before.

it was fine—somewhat. rintarou had no rights to complain; [name] didn't own the hues she babbled about to share them only with him. he couldn't frown at the back of the classroom as she lay on shijiki's lap while browsing her phone.

she never pulled out her phone around him. how much time did she need to reach that level of comfort?

rintarou lifted his head off his desk at the silent sound of [name]'s weightless footsteps approaching from behind. his favorite chuupet flavor landed before his eyes. he hadn't told her about it; she guessed—no, she read him.

her smile worked as an early alarm he didn't mind leaving beeping all day. "good mornin', 'samu-kun, rintarou-kun."

she somehow managed to throw him off every time she flung sentences to the air. a simple morning greeting, the usual, two of the few words she had transformed into a routine.

it meant nothing; osamu's name escaping her mouth before his could happen as much as it couldn't. he didn't recall the amount of times she had greeted him first. atsumu getting a color while he stayed stuck in black and white didn't matter as much as his brain was making it seem.

[name] didn't care about distinctions; everyone reflected the same way in her eyes. he couldn't hog her. he didn't want to, anyway.

osamu's chair screeched against the floor. "mornin'. i'll go get somethin' from the vendin' machine."

"oh, soz', that's my bad, 'samu-kun." [name] clasped her hands and bowed her head slightly. she grinned up at him. "i'll get ya somethin' next time."

osamu only shrugged. of course he took for granted such a great offer. he patted her shoulder with his palm before heading out the door. [name] waved at his retreating back as if he were embarking on a lengthy journey.

rintarou's eyes shifted from his candy to [name]'s sunny smile.  if she had a sixth sense, she used it to feel his gaze on her. it had been months since she last stabbed him with her sharp pupils.

he glanced at the chuupets then back at her. "do you have a favorite color?"

[name] blinked. "we switchin' roles now?" she pursed her lips to hold back an amused grin.

"suddenly i regret asking."

she plopped down backwards on osamu's empty chair while bubbling with laughter. her arms folded atop the backrest and her shoulders hunched. rintarou had seen this scene before, yet this time he appreciated it.

"that's a tough question." her nails drummed on his desk. "i like all colors, i dunno if i can choose one. i do like my purples, but yellows're very lovely too, and oranges're so unique. oh, greyscale s'a whole 'nother story."

"it must be a mess in there, knowing every color," he snickered, tapping the tip of his finger on her forehead.

[name] grinned widely as she softly swatted his hand away. "ya know every color too; ya just dunno their names. t'ain't like there's a… specific name for each an' every color, anyway. countless shades we dismiss as dark-this or light-that. for example, yer eyes."

he would eventually need to learn how to jump around like she did if he wanted to keep up with her. she switched the conversation as if she could manipulate the script of life whichever way she wanted.

"what about them?"

"what color're they?"

rintarou hesitated before replying, "yellow?" she didn't show any signs of carrying on speaking, staring into him with curious eyes. he shot another try and added, "greenish?"

"figured you'd say that," she chuckled. "ya call 'em plain greenish-yellow. i call 'em a watered-down, less saturated shade of jonquil."

"is that a compliment or an insult?"

she straightened her back to rest her chin on her palm. the simper on her lips probably tasted sweeter than the candy she had bought for him—that smile was for him, too. "well, i think yer eyes're very pretty. they're a color i've never considered. if i ever see it, it'll remind me of ya. same if i see a jonquil; that's what friendship s'all 'bout. 'm learnin' as i teach ya. that's good."

"you're welcome, i guess." he shrugged out of reflex, so as not to reply to her unfiltered thoughts and direct compliments.

"yeah, thanks. i might consider namin' it. i really like 'em a lot."

rintarou flickered his gaze away from her pupils digging into him. he never knew he could feel self-conscious about his eyes. [name] existed to teach him new experiences.

"what would you name it?"

she giggled to herself. "what does 'tsumu-kun call ya? we can push it into domestic bliss if we try, hm, sunarin?"

his brain couldn't even try to process what her words meant. he simply took them and saved them for later, when he could ponder over them or use them as decoration in the back of his mind.

"don't." he flicked her forehead.

[name] cackled, shoulders bouncing. "then, how 'bout a play on yer name? rin as in morality, ta as in thick, rou as in man… how's moral yellow sound?"

"you could just not name it."

"robin egg blue didn't get its name with that attitude."

he puffed a chuckle. "in conclusion?"

"yer eyes're pretty?" how many times had she repeated that already? "ya've really cute lashes? take 'nother step over the edge and call it desire?"

"no, but thank you."

"then what?"

"what's your favorite color?"

"as of now, i'd say moral yellow appeals ta me the most." [name] pressed her finger gently against the tip of his nose. she made sure to not accidentally dig her nail into his skin.

he certainly did not expect that answer. he could only blink, his tongue tripping over itself. was this a distinction she was making?

she finally tore her eyes away from him and it ripped like a band-aid. he knew he had no rights to hog her, but why would her face light up even more upon seeing osamu return? "oh, 'samu-kun's back." she sprang up from the chair. "have a good day, you two, see ya."

rintarou nodded without following her as she left. "see you." he didn't need to see her fingers waving; it was engraved in his mind.

"see ya, [nickname]-chan."

osamu raised a brow at him. he munched on his snacks while settling back down on his seat. rintarou rolled his eyes and ripped the packet of his chuupet open.

"cat got yer tongue? yer face's lookin' pretty puce, too. what'd she say?"

"oh, shut up. i'm downgrading you to worse twin. definitely."

[name]'s last name popped up at the top of his screen. she attached a picture of jonquil and moral yellow, side by side for comparison. she even went as far as to write down the percentages and differences in hsv.

rintarou laughed to himself while writing down his reply. it's just yellow.

she didn't agree as she flooded his screen with warped, frowning stickers. he changed her contact name from [surname] to [name].

[sakanadeh-a]

@SAKANADEH’S RULES

I own neither Sakanade nor Bleach. They both belong to Tite Kubo. Not only that but Kefka Palazzo from Final Fantasy VI belongs to Square Enix. I make zero profit off of this blog and am only here to have fun. nothing more, nothing less. I do, however, own all of my icons / gfx / promos / headcanons / etc. unless stated otherwise. So i'd greatly appreciate it if you neither stole them nor claimed them as your own considering I worked very hard on making all of them.

I am pro-callout if there is proof. I might not always reblog callouts but I do hardblock those who have been called out if there’s enough evidence to support the claim. I know we’re not perfect but if you continue to be problematic in the RPC and refuse to change for the better then you most certainly had it coming. Any callout posts I reblog will be tagged as CALLOUT TW and DRAMA TW for ease of mind.

I refuse to interact with problematic muns. If you are racist, ableist, sexist, LGBT-phobic, and a Nazi bootlicker then I want nothing to do with you. And the same is equally true if you're going to completely disregard all of the problematic themes within Bleach. While I abhor all of the things I listed, ignoring all of the toxic themes within Bleach does not make the problems magically go away. I'd say I'm sorry but I'm not.

Please do not follow me if you interact with any of the following people: Ziro. I’m a pretty forgiving person but if problematic people tend to play the victim, refuse to acknowledge they’ve messed up, refuse to apologize, and refuse to learn from their mistakes then I want nothing to do with them. All I want is for those who have messed up to just apologize and learn from their mistakes. That’s all. I’m here to sit down, relax, and have fun. Nothing more, nothing less.

I’m not duplicate friendly right now. I'm all for people roleplaying as Zanpakutos but I'm not entirely comfortable roleplaying with other Sakanade blogs as of right now. But that doesn't mean that I won't root you from afar!

I’m stuck using BETA TEXT EDITOR + XKIT REWRITTEN. I can’t use LEGACY TEXT EDITORat all because I made this blog after November 26th, 2022. I know this might sound a bit brash but I'd greatly appreciate it if you used BTE with me otherwise I'm probably not going to interact with you until everyone’s forced to use BTE.

I only interact with mutuals who are 18+. Though I am perfectly fine with non-mutuals sending headcanon asks, anonymous asks, and chatting with me OOC. Otherwise, I’m only going to interact with mutuals IC. It just makes my dash cleaner and easier to deal with.

Memes, unprompted asks, open starters, and dash commentaries are the best way to interact with me. I’ve come to learn that I get bored / lose motivation quite easily and rather quickly when doing starter calls. So I prefer sending / receiving unprompted asks, memes, and making open starters as well as replying to them. Now if we plan on doing a specific thread or something then that’s one thing. So I will very seldom if ever be making starter calls and / or like my mutuals’ starter calls because of how easily bored and uninterested I get with them early on.

I do practice mains & exclusives. Though I am extremely picky with whom I become mains or exclusives with due to bad experiences in the past. The number of dupes I will have of one character is up in the air right now so I'll stick with two to three mains per character for the time being.

Call me Shin! My pronouns are she/they. I’m 21+ years of age (29 to be exact) and am demi-bi. I suffer from severe GAD (with frequent paranoia episodes) and mild MDD. Not only that but I'm also in the process of getting tested for BPD. So please be patient with me and my random mood swings and bouts of negativity.

The fact that we have to remind everyone of this is problematic in and of itself. It ought to be common sense that none of us are our muses. Will we share similar traits and have common interests? sure. are there things that fascinate us with our muses? Most definitely. Do we condone everything that our muses do? Absolutely not.

Do not take Sakanade lightly. His Shikai and Bankai are both incredibly dangerous. Not only that but he's the Zanpakuto of Shinji Hirako (5th Division Captain and The Defacto Leader of the Vizards). You mess with Shinji or any of the Vizards and you will, without a doubt, feel the wrath of Sakanade. No exceptions.

I do not practice reblog karma. I’m perfectly fine with you reblogging musings, fanart, gifs, memes, music, PSAs, promos, and callouts from me. In fact, I encourage it. Just don’t reblog my ooc posts, headcanons, and threads without permission. You can like them all you want, just don’t reblog them.

I'm not quite sure on what the shipping status is on this blog yet. But I do know that he's in an extremely complicated relationship with @yumichikah's Yumichika Ayasegawa. I would, however, love to build on his relationship with Hiyori's Zanpakuto (Kubikiri Orochi) and Aizen's Zanpakuto (Kyoka Suigetsu).

I have several verses to choose from. Okay … technically I don't because they're still very much under construction. With that being said, my default verses generally vary between   五 ›› verse ›› tybw arc and 五 ›› verse ›› post series arc.

I can and will be updating these rules from time to time. But rest assured that I'll always be letting my followers know when I update them. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns then feel free to message me for I’ll 100% answer them to the best of my ability!

[rojurose-a]

@ROJUROSE’S RULES

I own neither Rojuro Otoribashi nor Bleach. They both belong to Tite Kubo. I make zero profit off of this blog and am only here to have fun. nothing more, nothing less. I do, however, own all of my icons / gfx / promos / headcanons / etc. unless stated otherwise. So I'd greatly appreciate it if you neither stole them nor claimed them as your own considering I worked very hard on making all of them.

I am a bit tired of callouts nowadays. About the only times you'll honestly see me reblog a callout is if/when I genuinely find the person incredibly problematic — especially if I've fallen victim from them firsthand. Otherwise it's going to be a hit or miss. Any callout posts I reblog will be tagged as CALLOUT TW and DRAMA TW for ease of mind. Now if the person makes a public apology and acknowledges their mistakes then I'll be more than happy to talk to them again depending on what all they've done.

I refuse to interact with problematic muns. If you are racist, ableist, sexist, LGBT-phobic, and a Nazi bootlicker then I want nothing to do with you. And the same is equally true if you're going to completely disregard all of the problematic themes within Bleach. While I abhor all of the things I listed, ignoring all of the toxic themes within Bleach does not make the problems magically go away. I'd say I'm sorry but I'm not.

Please do not follow me if you interact with any of the following people: Ziro. I’m a pretty forgiving person but if problematic people tend to play the victim, refuse to acknowledge they’ve messed up, refuse to apologize, and refuse to learn from their mistakes then I want nothing to do with them. All I want is for those who have messed up to just apologize and learn from their mistakes. That’s all. I’m here to sit down, relax, and have fun. Nothing more, nothing less.

I’m not duplicate friendly right now. I want to be duplicate friendly but I’m also incredibly self-conscious with my portrayal of Rose. This isn’t against anyone who does roleplay as him, though, for I encourage more people to roleplay as my favorite flamboyant musician of a Vizard! I just … can’t handle duplicates right now. I’m sorry.

I’m stuck using BETA TEXT EDITOR + XKIT REWRITTEN. I can’t use LEGACY TEXT EDITOR at all because I made this blog after November 26th, 2022. I know this might sound a bit brash but I'd greatly appreciate it if you used BTE with me otherwise I'm probably not going to interact with you until everyone’s forced to use BTE.

I only interact with mutuals who are 18+. Though I am perfectly fine with non-mutuals sending headcanon asks, anonymous asks, and chatting with me OOC. Otherwise, I’m only going to interact with mutuals IC. It just makes my dash cleaner and easier to deal with.

Memes, unprompted asks, open starters, and dash commentaries are the best way to interact with me. I’ve come to learn that I get bored / lose motivation quite easily and rather quickly when doing starter calls. So I prefer sending / receiving unprompted asks, memes, and making open starters as well as replying to them. Now if we plan on doing a specific thread or something then that’s one thing. So I will very seldom if ever be making starter calls and / or like my mutuals’ starter calls because of how easily bored and uninterested I get with them early on.

I do practice mains & exclusives. Though I am extremely picky with whom I become mains or exclusives with due to bad experiences in the past. The number of dupes I will have of one character is up in the air right now so I'll stick with two to three mains per character for the time being.

Call me Shin! My pronouns are she/they. I’m 21+ years of age (29 to be exact) and am demi-bi. I suffer from severe GAD (with frequent paranoia episodes) and mild MDD. Not only that but I'm also in the process of getting tested for BPD. So please be patient with me and my random mood swings and bouts of negativity.

The fact that we have to remind everyone of this is problematic in and of itself. It ought to be common sense that none of us are our muses. Will we share similar traits and have common interests? sure. are there things that fascinate us with our muses? Most definitely. Do we condone everything that our muses do? Absolutely not.

Do not take Rose lightly. Tite Kubo did the entirety of the Vizards dirty and it irks me to absolutely no end. There's obviously a reason Rose is Third Division Captain. There's also a reason Old Man Yama had Rose go with the likes of the other Vizards. And while Rose may be incredibly laid back, nonchalant, and soft-spoken I'd greatly appreciate it if you kept in mind that, like Shinji and Aizen, Rose wields an Illusion-type Zanpakuto.

I do not practice reblog karma. I’m perfectly fine with you reblogging musings, fanart, gifs, memes, music, PSAs, promos, and callouts from me. In fact, I encourage it. Just don’t reblog my ooc posts, headcanons, and threads without permission. You can like them all you want, just don’t reblog them.

This blog is strictly dualship for the time being. What this means is that Rose will only be in a relationship with two muses in two different universes. He is strictly taken by @aoimesuzume's Izuru Kira in the default verse.

I have several verses to choose from. Okay … technically I don't because they're still very much under construction. With that being said, my default verses generally vary between   🎸 verse 🎸 tybw arc & 🎸 verse 🎸 post series arc.

I can and will be updating these rules from time to time. But rest assured that I'll always be letting my followers know when I update them. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns then feel free to message me for I’ll 100% answer them to the best of my ability!

[hihihebi-a]

@HIHIHEBI’S RULES

I own neither Renji Abarai nor Bleach. They both belong to Tite Kubo. I make zero profit off of this blog and am only here to have fun. nothing more, nothing less. I do, however, own all of my icons / gfx / promos / headcanons / etc. unless stated otherwise. So I'd greatly appreciate it if you neither stole them nor claimed them as your own considering I worked very hard on making all of them.

I am pro-callout if there is proof. I might not always reblog callouts but I do hardblock those who have been called out if there’s enough evidence to support the claim. I know we’re not perfect but if you continue to be problematic in the RPC and refuse to change for the better then you most certainly had it coming. Any callout posts I reblog will be tagged as CALLOUT TW and DRAMA TW for ease of mind.

I refuse to interact with problematic muns. If you are racist, ableist, sexist, LGBT-phobic, and a Nazi bootlicker then I want nothing to do with you. And the same is equally true if you're going to completely disregard all of the problematic themes within Bleach. While I abhor all of the things I listed, ignoring all of the toxic themes within Bleach does not make the problems magically go away. I'd say I'm sorry but I'm not.

Please do not follow me if you interact with any of the following people: Ziro. I’m a pretty forgiving person but if problematic people tend to play the victim, refuse to acknowledge they’ve messed up, refuse to apologize, and refuse to learn from their mistakes then I want nothing to do with them. All I want is for those who have messed up to just apologize and learn from their mistakes. That’s all. I’m here to sit down, relax, and have fun. Nothing more, nothing less.

I’m not duplicate friendly right now. I want to be duplicate friendly but I’m also incredibly self-conscious with my portrayal of Renji. This isn’t against anyone who does roleplay as him, though, for I encourage more people to roleplay as my favorite temperamental redhead! I just … can’t handle duplicates right now. I’m sorry.

I’m stuck using BETA TEXT EDITOR + XKIT REWRITTEN. I can’t use LEGACY TEXT EDITOR at all because I made this blog after November 26th, 2022. I know this might sound a bit brash but I'd greatly appreciate it if you used BTE with me otherwise I'm probably not going to interact with you until everyone’s forced to use BTE.

I only interact with mutuals who are 18+. Though I am perfectly fine with non-mutuals sending headcanon asks, anonymous asks, and chatting with me OOC. Otherwise, I’m only going to interact with mutuals IC. It just makes my dash cleaner and easier to deal with.

Memes, unprompted asks, open starters, and dash commentaries are the best way to interact with me. I’ve come to learn that I get bored / lose motivation quite easily and rather quickly when doing starter calls. So I prefer sending / receiving unprompted asks, memes, and making open starters as well as replying to them. Now if we plan on doing a specific thread or something then that’s one thing. So I will very seldom if ever be making starter calls and / or like my mutuals’ starter calls because of how easily bored and uninterested I get with them early on.

I do practice mains & exclusives. Though I am extremely picky with whom I become mains or exclusives with due to bad experiences in the past. The number of dupes I will have of one character is up in the air right now so I'll stick with two to three mains per character for the time being.

Call me Shin! My pronouns are she/they. I’m 21+ years of age (29 to be exact) and am demi-bi. I suffer from severe GAD (with frequent paranoia episodes) and mild MDD. Not only that but I'm also in the process of getting tested for BPD. So please be patient with me and my random mood swings and bouts of negativity.

The fact that we have to remind everyone of this is problematic in and of itself. It ought to be common sense that none of us are our muses. Will we share similar traits and have common interests? sure. are there things that fascinate us with our muses? Most definitely. Do we condone everything that our muses do? Absolutely not.

Do not take Renji lightly. Is he temperamental? Yes. Is he self-conscious? Yes. Is he weak? No. Ignoring his pride and being unable to admit defeat and facts, Byakuya chose Renji as his Lieutenant for a reason. He wouldn't choose just anyone to be his Lieutenant. Renji will do whatever it takes to get his point across even if it means beating the ever-loving shit out of someone.

I do not practice reblog karma. I’m perfectly fine with you reblogging musings, fanart, gifs, memes, music, PSAs, promos, and callouts from me. In fact, I encourage it. Just don’t reblog my ooc posts, headcanons, and threads without permission. You can like them all you want, just don’t reblog them.

This blog is strictly singleship for the time being. I also don't really ship Renji and Rukia romantically. It's strictly platonic in my eyes. The reason for this is out of fear that Renji would end up losing Rukia again and it being permanent this time around.

I have several verses to choose from. Okay … technically I don't because they're still very much under construction. With that being said, my default verses generally vary between   ☾ verse ☽ tybw arc and ☾ verse ☽ post series arc.

I can and will be updating these rules from time to time. But rest assured that I'll always be letting my followers know when I update them. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns then feel free to message me for I’ll 100% answer them to the best of my ability!

[boundlss]

" say, old sport, i've got a question for ya. "

Scott held the steaming coffee cup to his lips and took a slight sip from the brim, wincing a tad at the heat. He should've waited for it to cool down, but the morning meetings had left him in a foul mood. Well, no more foul than was per usual. He never did like meetings with difficult, stubborn people -- those who gripped so tightly to some old - school ideals that benefitted to nobody and cost them even more. It would be no hassle to have those fools see the error of their ways, but . . . well, he would rather not have to put in the effort.

still, it's a small price to pay for what i owe back to Melville.

The rest of Scott's day was schedule - packed by other business opportunities & ventures. He was never one to rest when well into the swing of things, even if said business ventures were more experimental than anything else. As such, he was going to need all the energy he could get, and then some to see through what he needed to. Why Mr. Twain was part of the equation, well . . .

it's really more bothersome to have to do this alone. meetings are more effective when you have others on your side.

Or, so he told himself anyway.

" you're not all that fond of these business pursuits, yes? the sitting around and talking . . . that sort of thing. i'm not particularly fond of them either, especially when the other party is being completely unreasonable, but i digress. point is, you're not the type to sit there and listen to people talk hours on end. i didn't think you would accept my invitation to tag along, so . . . might i ask why? are you really that bored? perhaps i ought to ask Melville when we return what sorts of assignments there are that fit your qualifying skills better. it'd be a waste to have them go dull listening to dimwits blather, wouldn't you say? "

"Just thought I'd try it out," Twain shoots back, though he sounds just about as bored as he feels. Of course, he'd accepted Scott's invitation knowing perfectly well he'd hate it the whole time. Were it for any other reason, it might have made him some kind of boredom-masochist, but...

Well, it's not like I mind him thinkin' I'm some sort of masochist. It'd be a pain to say how I really felt.

The fact that Twain keeps close to his chest is that he'd accepted because he'd been asked to tag along, and for no other reason. Granted, everyone else probably had actual plans or something; Twain doubts he'd be anyone's first choice in regards to something like this that requires, at the very least, a vague sense of what's what.

"Anyway, one day 'a meetings ain't exactly gonna kill my spirit. Two days, though? That might be pushin' it a little." He chuckles, tapping his fingers in quick, rhythmic patterns like it's going to give him more energy to get through the hell he knows this day is gonna be. "Just figured I might as well get some sense 'a what's goin' on in your neck 'a the woods. I'd feel bad bein' a total deadweight to this whole side 'a the operation; if nothin' else I can be moral support. 'Cause historically I've been super good at that."

He winks playfully, publicly acknowledging his own general ineptitude at being moral support for anyone before Scott can get a jab in at him for it.

"What, you regrettin' your decisions already? Sucks for you if so, you're stuck with me for the day. I ain't about to cop out."

unprompted. / accepting.

[angelicimagines]

Hey Mod Shuichi! Could I request Chihiro, Yuta, Tsumugi, and Chiaki with a cuddly S/O who starts crying when they’re given affection because they’re touch starved? I saw a similar request you did and I really enjoyed it!

Hey there @chihiro-comfort-imagines, of course you may. This ask is very cute by the way, thanks for requesting. Touch-starved gang rise up! -Mod Shuichi

Chihiro Fujisaki, Yuta Asahina, Tsumugi Shirogane, and Chiaki Nanami with a S/O who gets emotional when given affection.

Chihiro Fujisaki💻

💻 Nervous boy, nervous. Be patient with him, he's not used to much positive affection from people apart from his family. 💻 Please, hug him while he's overworking himself, remind him to take care of himself. 💻 Melts, literally. Congrats you have discovered Fujisaki putty, do what you will with this information (read as: love him). 💻 He knows he's small and weak and all that jazz, but he is determined to gather up the courage to give you affection first, he wants to protect you and this is a step in the right direction. 💻 After much thinking aka Mondo, Taka, and Leon pestering him about doing it, he decided to give you an unprompted hug and some head scratches (cuz nobody is immune to those fight me on this). 💻 Poor boy didn't know what was about to go down. He wasn't emotionally prepared to feel some wetness near his back and your body shaking with what he assumed where sobs. 💻 Ok so that didn't work, he's panicking now. In a brilliant moment of action association, he backed away like he had been burned. 💻 Was racking his brain on what to do because no amount of Wikihow articles could prepare him for this. Luckily, he wasn't completely out of ideas. 💻 Bless Taichi for giving him the idea. He mimicked what his father had always done when he wa distressed and hugged you again while tracing random patterns on your back. 💻 Oh hey that worked! Now to why you were crying…oh right he' d never done this before, it was probably too much for you. 💻 Well now he just feels bad. Might start crying with you a bit,but he'll power through. 💻 After the reveal, new arrangements were made. Now you have a hug quota that you will get every day or so help him. 💻 It takes a while, since he is also a bit overwhelmed by affection, but over time both of you get used to it 💻 During one of your daily hug quotas he'd reveal that he would give you all the affection it took to make you feel loved <3

Yuta Asahina👟

👟 How are you still hydrated with this man, he will always return your affection tenfold. It's the Asahina genes in him. 👟 You are probably not that touch starved with him as your partner, but that makes my job useless so touch starved you are for the sake of content. 👟 Yuta was a pretty affectionate person, but sometimes circumstances prevented that from happening. 👟 And so that's how you found yourself 5 hours away from your boyfriend. Her sister was participating in a swimming tournament and he went to support her. You couldn't make it (plus it was the first time you'd meet his sister face to face and the thought alone scared you), so yeah. 👟 Aoi was confused, since you were basically the only topic Yuta talked about nowadays and she was just dying to finally meet you; but nothing could top Yuta's reaction. 👟 Boy went through the 5 stages of grief and then some. He acted like he was on withdrawal from candy or something, he craved your touch 25/8 and was just…mopey. 👟 So that's how the idea entered his head. As soon as he laid eyes on you, he would make up for all of the S/O cuddles he missed while he was away. 👟 R.I.P your tear ducts ayyy. Nothing could've prepared you for the absolute love storm you were about to experience. Man's literally jumped on you and began attacking you with kisses and hugs and any other form of affection you can think of. 👟 Bursting into tears in the middle of an airport was not your proudest moment, but hey, you got your Yuta cuddles so who cares. 👟 UnLuckily for you, he didn't comment on your sudden pity party, instead he shushed your cries and wiped your tears away. 👟 He might not like math, but he figured sad S/O + love and affection = happy S/O. Quick maths. 👟 Would you look at that, he was right! Without your usual dose of cuddles you resorted back to not knowing what human touch is. 👟 Don't worry, it's a quick fix with Yuta. By quick fix, I mean you now have a koala stuck to your body literally all the time. 👟 What can I say, he is a man of his word. Says he wants to help you return to your normal cuddle amount, but Aoi ratted him out. He was just as touch starved as you. 👟 There's nothing better than two touch starved dumbasses experiencing affection, together <3

Tsumugi Shirogane🧵

🧵 Girl loves how affectionate you are, makes her feel special and not plain. 🧵 Also inspire her to make cosplays sometimes (when this happens I advice you run, she gets very involved in her work). 🧵 She hesitates before giving you any type of affection, what if she's too plain, what if she starts rambling about anime and you get tired of her, what if– 🧵 "No, Tsumugi, they do so much for you, return the damm favour, love them." And with this little pep talk she is on her way to find you and love the soul out of you. 🧵 She hides her intentions behind a simple date, a fun movie night critiquing the main pairing for being oblivious idiots. 🧵 During the movie, she got more affectionate, things like holding your hand for longer than usual and resting her head on your shoulder during the romantic parts. 🧵 She reasons that by being affectionate with you, especially during the more romantic parts of the movie. she symbolizes how much she loves you and that she does care about you. 🧵 Your poker face is working itself to the bone while your heart is going a thousand a minute. That might be the excitement or a heart attack, you can't tell. 🧵 Little did you know, this was only the beginning. Tsumugi was determined to end the date on her own little special note. 🧵 On the way home, she insisted y'all walked by the sakura trees nearby. It was a beautiful sight, the petals of the trees falling around you as she initiated a very sweet goodbye kiss. 🧵 That's right, she initiated the kiss this time. And that was your cue to start the waterworks. 🧵 When she pulled away she heard your sobs and saw your tears and panicked. Was it too much, did she screw it up? Oh she shouldn't have listened to that anime, now you're crying because of her and– 🧵 You sob out various I love you's and hug her tight, effectively confusing your cosplayer girlfriend. 🧵 Oh, oh. You're touch-starved, that's what's happening. She smiles to herself and giggles at her panic earlier as she returns the hug and wipes your tears away. 🧵 She can get used to this, she'll patch up the missing affection with a lot of love…and anime references <3

Chiaki Nanami🎮

🎮 She doesn't mind your cuddles, in fact she loves them! You probably can't tell but she's touch starved as well, she just doesn't know it yet. 🎮 You tend to cling to her while she's gaming, holding her and laying your head on her shoulder while she's trying to beat whatever pesky boss is preventing her from beating the game. 🎮 She subconsciously snuggles closer to you from time to time, to show she still cares. 🎮 She knows she tends to lose herself to her games a lot and that could cause you to feel like you're the only one pulling their weight in the relationship... 🎮 So she devised a master plan. The next time you give her any type of affection, she'll return it and then some. 🎮 She was dedicated to let you know how much she loved you, so she was ready to use every weapon in her arsenal. Also known as your downfall. 🎮 And so that's how you found yourself in eachothers arms while she kissed every inch of your face. 🎮 She thought she was doing great......until you started sobbing into her shoulder. Ok now she's worried, did she wait too long, did she do something wrong, why were you crying? 🎮 You started babbling about how much you love her and how long you had been waiting for this. Oh, so that's what happening. 🎮 She feels a bit guilty that she hadn't done this sooner, but that just means she can make up for the lost time by giving you even more affection. 🎮 Your eyes are cosplaying waterfalls hon, you're probably dehydrated by now. 🎮 The fact you get that emotional just because of something as simple as a hug worries her, who hurt you? 🎮 In all of her greatness, she devices a new plan. She'll give you as much affection as she can to make you connect her affection with routine. You won't be touch starved on her watch, not on her watch! 🎮 Cut to you getting overwhelmed the first 50 times. Over time, all you do is that deep breath people do when they're feeling extremely loved. 🎮 She realizes that this is what you both needed, after all they say love is the best healing potion <3

[mageofseven]

The Demon Brothers when Discovering they’re in Love

Spoilers: Mentions the end of the first season of the game in Belphie’s. If you haven’t read that far yet, you’ve been warned.

Lucifer:

Feels rather torn when he comes to this realization.

On one hand, he feels that the object of his affection has become too much of a distraction.

The amount of times he finds himself spacing out while doing paperwork because thoughts of you plague his mind is truly appalling to him

But still, he gets lost in the care that you give him and finds your reliability refreshing.

All the nights he stayed up to get his work done and you came in with some coffee to help him along, sometimes unprompted; it’s like you just know when he needs a little boost. 

You even remember that he likes his coffee with a shot of poison. It’s truly the little things like that where he gets lost in your consideration.

Then there are the nights where even some small part of him realizes that pushed himself too far.

It would have been his fourth consecutive night without sleep if it weren’t for you.

“Luce?”

The man didn’t look up from his paperwork. Instead, he finished signing the document before switching papers and starting to skim through it.

“Thank you, MC. Just set it on the desk.” He said, assuming you had just brought him coffee as usual.

“I’m sorry.” You say as you step in. “That’s not it.”

The Avatar of Pride finally looked up and sighed as he saw your empty hands.

“Then what is it? I’m afraid I have neither the time nor energy to chat right now.”

“That’s the point, Lucifer.” You say, approaching his desk. “You need sleep.”

He scoffed at your words. “I can assure you that I am more than capable of doing my work without a few nights of rest.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t, Lucifer.” You lay your hand on his forearm. “I know you are capable, but still. Please, just sleep.”

He looked up into your eyes and sighed. They held no hint of deceit or trickery. He had grown so used to looking for such signs in people, most commonly in his brothers, but in this moment, he only saw genuine worry in those beautiful orbs.

When was the last time he had seen such? When was the last time someone had shown real concern for him?

The man couldn’t recall.

“Alright.” He relented. “I’ll put the papers away for now, but I expect you to head to bed as well. It’s nearing 3am.”

It was that night, as he laid in bed, that he tried to decipher the feelings within him, floating around in his chest.

When he realized it was love, the man could only shake his head at the thought. After all, he had no time for such feelings, he told himself.

But the more he dismissed them, the stronger they seemed to be within him.

The man even spaced out during a conversation with Diavolo one morning and was mortified with himself.

Obviously, Diavolo was more curious than upset though.

After some pressing from the prince, Lucifer sighed and explained the issue that plagued him.

I don’t think it would be possible for Lord Diavolo to have a bigger grin on his face than he did in that moment.

The prince congratulates his friend on finding someone that inspires such feelings within him and asks about when he’s gonna ask you out.

Lucifer waves away his friend’s words, but the thought stays with him throughout the day.

It would be a lie to say that he doesn’t want to date you, but the man’s pride has always told him that he doesn’t need such a relationship with others, most especially a human.

However, you were no ordinary human. To him, you were special; he could admit that much to himself.

When he finally does ask you out, he’s as calm and collected as he is with anything else

…except for the hint of a blush on his cheeks, seen by only the most observant of people.

This boy is not as in denial about his feelings as you might think.

Mammon:

Mammon recognizes his feelings for you fairly quickly and is pretty honest about it.

At least, he’s pretty honest with himself with the subject, just not with other people.

He knew he had feelings for you since day one. What he should do about them, however, was the questions.

Yeah, he spent a lot of time denying it to his brothers, but that was mostly because he didn’t want you to know until he got himself sorted out. 

That and he didn’t wanna risk his brothers ruining things for him. I mean yeah, he’s had some small crushes, but they never lasted long and none involved feelings this strong.

He just really, really didn’t want to fuck this up.

So he spent a long time keeping his feelings to himself; months easily passing.

Every time he saw you smile or when he heard you speak in defense of him with his brothers, he could feel his face go hot and chest tighten.

You really felt like his human when you did stuff like that. Still, no matter how many times he said it or felt it, it didn’t make it true; not officially at least.

One day, you both were hanging out in his room, studying together.

Well, you were studying. Mammon was just kinda half-assing it. He only agreed to this so he could spend more time with you after all.

Boy was getting all fidgety as he thought…maybe now was a good time to tell you?

You both were alone together, which made things easier. He definitely didn’t want to actually sit here and study either.

Not to mention, if he had to hide his feelings any longer, the poor boy felt as if he’d just burst.

“Oi, MC! I got something to say so you better listen up!”

Your eyes flickered up at him and then back down to your notes, searching for a specific section.

“I’m listening.” You say as you go back to skimming through the page.

Nervous boy looks away from you.

“So…the Great Mammon likes you, alright!” He told you, booming with fake confidence.

“I know.” You tell him, not even looking up from your notebook.

That’s…that’s it? You must not get it. His tone starts to falter.

“I…no! I don’t mean just like!” He leaned in closer to you. “I… I meant I love you!”

You lift your head and smile at him.

“I know.” You tell him before leaning in and kissing his cheek.

The Avatar of Greed’s brain starts to short circuit. Was it really that easy all along?

You laugh at how red his face gets and find it cute. You always had feelings for Mammon and honestly, as much as he tries to be otherwise, he is an open book. Not just you, but everyone knew he had feelings for you. It was just a question of when he would admit it and you had waited patiently for him.

Leviathan:

This boy struggles to even identify the feelings within him for the longest time.

When the feelings do form inside him, he starts becoming a lot more red in the face over the simplest things.

Blushy boy is overwhelmed by basically any compliment you give him.

“Holy–Levi, I was stuck on that level for past month!” You tell him, practically buzzing from excitement. “You’re amazing!”

Levi.exe has stopped working.

It’s not just what you say that makes his brain freeze up. It’s your sweet, excited tone, your smile. The fuzzy feeling in him that tells him he did good. All of it is too much for his brain.

Honestly thinks something is wrong with him when you fixed his tie for him one morning because it was messy and all he could think about for the next ten minutes was the fact that you touched him.

Wait, why did you fix his tie? He always wears it loose like that and you never commented on it before...

Otaku boy is very upset with himself right now.

Tries to avoid you for a while, but after a couple days of this, he heard you asking his brothers if you did something wrong and what you could do to apologize to him.

Poor boy felt bad that he was making you feel guilty when you didn’t even do anything wrong.

Invites you to watch anime with him so you can stop worrying.

He tries his best to act like his usual self with you and honestly, it was pretty easy with him getting so absorbed with the show.

At one point, he had to pause it to rant about something the protagonist just said. 

“I can’t believe it! They completely contradicted part of her character progression from season two! And have the gall to completely ignore that they did it!”

Boy was so annoyed until you stopped him. You pointed out a couple moments from mid-season three and one from season 4 that actually make the protagonist’s words very in character for them.

In the back of his mind, he’s really beating himself up for forgetting that one scene between Tsusaki and Momo

If it had been anyone else or if it was you, but at a different point in your friendship, he honestly would be livid to hear you make such a contradiction.

Levi has bonded with you for so long at this point though that he’s just impressed with your memory and character analysis ability.

I mean, he shouldn’t expect anything less from his Henry, but still, the boy is still loving this.

He’s found someone that not only enjoys the same nerdy stuff that he likes, but can actually have discussions about at the same level. You understand him just like you understand the anime on the screen and it’s characters.

At some point, he kinda got lost in his thoughts about you, checking out in favor of such thoughts instead of your words.

A smile slowly formed on his face as he thought about just how great it was that he found you. Or like, that you came to him, I guess.

He got so lost in all the good things about your friendship that he didn’t even realize at first when his thoughts were becoming words off his lips and had no time to censor himself.

“Man, this is great. This is why I love you.”

Silence.

Levi started panicking, realizing what he just said.

You sat in your seat, confused and a bit flustered.

After all, he interrupted you mid-sentence to blurt that out.

“Gaaah, I didn’t mean that!” He shouted. “Okay, maybe I did; I don’t really know, I just–aaaah I’m such a stupid, no-good–”

His words are stopped by your kiss. It only lasted for a second though because the boy quickly bounced back and covered his mouth with his hand.

You give a small chuckle at his reaction.

“Don’t worry so much.” You tell him. “I’m glad you told me.”

“H…Huh??”

“I…” You blush. “I actually have feelings for you too. I’m glad you said something first or I would have never been able to do… that.”

Levi is stuck wondering what the heck just happened, but as he starts to settle down, he decides he doesn’t really care; he likes how things have ended up.

Satan:

Is another brother that is not really good with his emotions.

Instead of panicking or getting overwhelmed with this new feeling inside of him though, he faces it with calm curiosity instead.

It’s hard for him to fully understand any emotion that is not anger, but he’s always trying to expand his knowledge on such things.

So when he starts noticing how small things you do cause his heart to race or a blush creep onto his cheeks, he’s not shying away; on the contrary, he seeks you out even more, wanting to spend time with you so he can analyze these feelings as they come.

He starts asking if you need some help studying more often since the answer is almost always yes. Study sessions with Satan are always very productive.

He starts lending books out to you even when you don’t ask. He brings you books that made him think of you as he read them, but doesn’t tell you that and presents them as a simple recommendation.

Always feels a sense of satisfaction when you accept them and come to his room later on to discuss them.

Starts reading more books on interactions between people to understand his seemingly strong awareness of you.

Like, why your finger tips brushing his when he hands you something or your shoulder touching his when you both read next to each other just sends an an almost electrifying feeling within him or when even the softest expressions on your face can make him smile.

Starts with mainly nonfiction books and slowly finds himself searching within the realm of fiction as well.

Despite what some people might think, he doesn’t really read fiction books much. When he does, it’s usually horror stories or the occasional sci-fi story (he finds how human picture the future to be fascinating, but also a bit silly).

He has very little experience with romance novels; he finds them to be pretty repetitive and predictable.

Still decides to read some since they do in fact focus on interactions between two people.

Finds that a lot of his experiences are mentioned in these books.

….he also finds his mind imagining similar situations with you.

This is…not the answer he thought he would get. ‘Love’.

So it was love that he felt for you? He honestly never gave any thought to loving someone in this way before. It simply was never a priority of his

But if that is truly what he is feeling…he wants to feel it to its full extent like the characters in his books.

Isn’t actually all that nervous when he decides to tell you. Like always, curiosity leads him through.

Not to say that he wouldn’t be hurt if you rejected him; merely that he wastes no energy worrying about such an outcome.

The day he decided tell you about this conclusion, you were sitting with him on his bed, backs against the wall, reading books.

He heard a little gasp to his right and glanced over to see you staring at your book, eyes wide, and whispering things to the page.

‘Oh my god’, ‘Why would you do that?’, and ‘Nonononononono’ were just some of the words you spoke into your book.

Satan chuckled, finding he scene to be cute.

You let out a groan, mildly annoyed with him.

“It’s not funny.” You whined. “He just walked away from her. Walked away! Right when she tried to kiss him! I can’t believe this!”

“Oh really?”

“Yes really! He–”

The blonde cut you off with a kiss, brief, but a bit fervent.

As soon he pulled away, you dropped your book and covered your red face. He quietly picked up your book and read the page that originally upset you.

“This is the same story I read yesterday.” He told you, hiding his own red cheeks within the pages. “The one that made me realize I wanted to kiss you.”

You lowered your hands and stared at the blonde, eyes wide.

“R-Really?”

“Yes.” He lowered the book to look you in your eyes. “Our protagonist may have failed you, but I’d like think that I just came through for you where he did not. Am I wrong?”

“N..No.” You mumbled, eyes darting away from him and to a stack of books. After a moment, you added. “C-Can you do that again?”

Satan chuckled softly and took his chin in his hand, guiding her face to look at him. He stared into your eyes for a minute with a teasing smile before doing just as he was asked.

The boy never actually said the words like he planned to, but it was obvious that his meaning got across to you.

Asmodeus:

As the Avatar of Lust, Asmo is no stranger to feelings.

He had so many crushes during his time in the Devildom that he probably couldn’t even count them all.

They were always simple feelings though, flights of fancy that came and went, holding no real long term significance to him.

Don’t get him wrong; he finds a lot of fun/cute/sexy/beautiful people that he enjoys spending time with, but he sees them all as just temporary beings, coming in and out of his life without a second thought.

It’s still new for him to develop strong feelings for a person to the point that he actually thinks 'I never want them to leave’.

But with you, he does just that. Doesn’t realize he feels that strongly for you till you actually leave though.

It wasn’t anything unpredictable; the school year had simply ended. Everyone knew it was coming, but Asmo gave it almost no thought till it was here. 

Your absence hit him harder than he let any of his brothers know. Still, he did he did usual activities; shopping, partying, spa days (though he noticed that he needed those more often than before).

He called you as often as he could. Would have probably spammed you with texts and calls if Lucifer hadn’t set a limit on all the brothers with when they can talk to you.

There really wasn’t an ‘Aha!’ moment for him discovering that he loved you. The question for him wasn’t if he loved you; it was more like how much he loved you that he questioned.

After dealing with your absence, he got his answer: a lot.

When you finally came back for another year at RAD, the boy was ecstatic. 

Immediately jumps into hugging you, giving you little kisses on the cheek, and coming up with different reasons to keep you close.

Really clingy, but in a cute way.

Boy drops the ‘love’ word on you like it’s nothing.

Absolutely adores your blushy face after.

Is nothing but smiles when you said it back to him and wasn’t worried about it all.

I mean it is him we are talking about so of course you love him back.

Beelzebub:

Is slightly slow with the realization, but not the slowest of the brothers.

There was kinda already signs floating around about his feelings before he even knew it.

The other brothers suspected it, but unlike with Mammon, they just kinda left the big boy to handle it on his own and didn’t tease him about it.

Though he’s commonly helping all his brothers out with one thing or another, without even realizing it, he started treating you with the same level of care he usually only gives to Belphie.

He shares his foods with you and is always checking on you to make sure you feel okay (physically and emotional). Sweet boy knows how stressful it can be in House of Lamentation with all the arguing and his brothers’ shenanigans so he tries to makes sure it doesn’t bring you down.

He even once carried you to bed after you fell asleep on the couch after school. He felt bad you were so worn out from the day and didn’t want you to wake up with a sore neck from sleeping wrong on the couch.

Then there was one day when he managed to make you laugh--not on purpose, mind you, and the poor boy is still confused about what he did to this day, but the sound of your laugh filled with his cheeks red and the sweet boy couldn’t help smiling at it.

But once the moment ended and your laugh was gone, all Beel could think about was wanting to hear it again. He really wished he knew what he did the first time so he could replicate it.

He started asking around with his brothers about the moment that made him feel so warm inside and why he couldn’t stop thinking about you or that moment. They all waved him off with small smiles, telling him that he’ll figure it out on his own. Except for one.

Asmo was way to excited to follow the other brothers’ lead.

“That’s because you love her, silly!” He grinned at the redhead. “Now! When are you asking them out? I’ve been waiting foreeever to give you dating advice!”

Cue Beel’s brain buffering. And buffering. And buffering.

Ding.

Wait..love?

The boy smiled a sweet smile and walked away from his brother mid-sentence.

He kept walking till he found you in your room working on homework.

You lifted you head and smiled at him, mid-greeting when he wrapped his arms around you in a hug. You blinked in confusion, but hugged back.

“What’s this about?” You laugh from in his arms and the good boy loved the sound of it. In fact...

“I love you.” He said, smiling down at you.

It was a cute albeit random and unexpected moment for you, but also one of your favorite memories with him.

Belphegor:

Belphie was surprisingly quick with discovering his feelings for you.

He knew it was love, but tried pushing the feeling down inside of himself out of guilt.

Yes, you forgave him for using and killing you, but the boy hadn’t forgiven himself for doing it, which made his feelings for you just hurt him worse.

Sleepy boy tries his best to take care of you to make up for it, but feels like it’s not enough.

He’s always the first person to realize when you’re starting to stress out and pulls you to him for nap. Naps always help him take a break from stress and various other emotions that he doesn’t want to deal with and knew it’d probably help you too.

Nap buddy. That’s what you’d call him, causing him to blush and turn away from you.

With the poor boy feeling so complicated, it was actually you who confessed your feelings to him instead.

It was during one of your nap sessions, unsurprisingly. Belphie just stared at you, eyes wide in disbelief, before switching to a glare.

“You stupid--how can you say that after what I did to you?”

“Belphie...that’s in the past and you’re different now.” You tell him. “I love the person that lays next to me; he’s different than the man who killed me.”

Oh Lord Diavolo, the way your human mind works is so ridiculous to him.

Ends up rejecting you and finds a new place to take a nap. His anger quickly turns to sadness as he falls asleep.

Feels awful the next few days. He didn’t mean to hurt you; he just wants you to understand that he doesn’t deserve you after what happened.

Eventually approaches you to explain himself, hoping you’ll understand and let go of your feelings for him.

Instead, you launch into trying to reassure him that it’s not like that and regardless of what happened in the past, your feelings still stand.

He still thinks you’re idiot and tells you as much...but admits that he feels the same.

During the first two weeks of your relationship, the boy is surprisingly tense, but eventually accepts where you both have ended up and just lets himself enjoy it.

~

Masterlist

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

18. Skeleton

Buddy and Sammy find the “goldfish room” as the latter calls it, AKA the closet where Joey keeps his skeletons, literally. And in the process, Buddy learns about a few of the skeletons in Sammy’s metaphorical closet. (Set during ink hell, pre loop, post Buddy befriending the lost ones/searchers.)

The Prophet was a strange ally.

It was weird to work alongside someone who worships the guy who tore you in half and is the biggest reason why you’re stuck in a nightmarish, inescapable studio, especially when it wasn’t the nicest or friendliest person before getting claimed by the ink. (Although, as he thought back on it, had he ever met Sammy before it was claimed by the Ink?)

But ANY ally was better than an enemy, especially when that ally knows the studio better than anyone else down here. Besides, it seemed like the Ink man was either unaware of their past or didn’t even know who they used to be, and even if it did, it wasn’t angry about their past issues.

At the same time, working on scavenging trips with the former musician was a nightmare; it was way too tranquil about the situation, and there were too many weird murderous monsters that the wolf and gofer were aware of.

“I do not need to run, little wolf. I can evade these creatures without issue through my Lord’s gift.” The Prophet calmly stated as Buddy gestured confusion about why it didn’t run when the pair heard something that sounded suspiciously like the projectionist’s screams. “Besides, running through these halls is risky, I would be heard by those… more unsavory denizens of this studio and get ambushed by them.”

He wished his typewriter was quieter in instances like this, being able to type out ‘But what if you get caught by your lord?’ and other messages to hand to him without risking alerting the Ink Demon would be great. Or just having his voice back in general.

“If my Lord decides to send me back to the puddles, then it is his right to do so to prove I have changed.” He answered the unspoken question. “But it does mean that I have to work harder to get him to notice how much I have improved, get him to notice me…” 

‘Please don’t read my mind unless I give you the “go for it” gesture. It’s creepy otherwise.’

“My apologies, little wolf, while your thoughts come in quieter than everybody else’s… they’re still noticeable, especially when it’s just the two of us.”

Buddy hesitantly nodded and just tried to lead the Prophet out of the ransacked room to look for more stray supplies.

A few more hours of searching lead the pair to a locked room, something that experience told him meant that either it was another dead end or a hidden treasure trove of supplies, and not wanting to go back to the safe house empty handed, he was ready to roll those dice.

Buddy gestured for the Prophet to stand guard as he picked the door’s lock, and as the door slowly creaked open, he was thankful that he couldn’t speak because the scream that came out from his mouth would’ve been loud enough to alert every monster in the studio.

The former gofer felt sick to his stomach when he saw them. Piles upon piles of rotting, mangled, corpses. Human Corpses, not toony corpses like the other Borises or the butchered up members of the Butcher gang. Most of them were unrecognizable, partly because he had never seen most of these people in his life, and partly because they had decayed so much that what remained was hard to figure out who was who and what. The oldest corpses were nothing but skeletons and clothes, and the freshest one looked like…

...Like his own body.

“The goldfish room...” The prophet muttered loud enough for Buddy to hear, startling the poor pup out of his skin as he didn’t hear him enter behind him.

The wolf shuddered and continued to scour the room for anything worth the hassle of all of this. Boris wanted to take a few of the bones, which Buddy unenthusiastically obliged.

“Don’t eat those!” The Prophet interjected so loudly and harshly that it startled both the former gofer and the wolf toon. The ink creature’s anger was so much scarier with how rare it was to see now. “Especially not him! He’s my-” The Prophet stopped itself by covering its ‘mouth’ with its hands as if it was about to reveal a big secret and just took the skeletal arm out of Buddy’s hands and put it back where he found it. Its voice went back to it’s normal calm tone that reminded him of someone who was on the verge of falling asleep, but Buddy heard somberness in the musician’s pitch. “...they’re unclean...”

‘Prophet?’ Buddy gave him the “go ahead, read my mind” gesture. ‘Prophet, what is this place? Who are these people?’

“...You’ve seen your own corpse among them, correct?”

Buddy nodded.

“I know you’ve met Joey, but tell me; ...Has he ever called you ‘Henry’ before?”

‘Yes he has, but what does that have to do with…’ he gestured at the bodies on the floor ‘this?!’

“Henry’s been gone for a long time now.” The prophet stated, but there was a hint of recollection in his tone that weakened the calmness, and the more he talked, the more broken (for lack of a better term) his voice became. “Do you think that you were Joey’s first replacement goldfish? That after Henry left the studio, you were Joey’s only other other Henry?”

Buddy’s ears began ringing and he heard music; it was loud, distorted, fast-paced, and all over the place, the type of music that makes your heart pound out of your chest and makes your hackles stand up, the type of music that tells you to run, but doesn’t clue you in to where or why. The prophet’s body started to shake and tremble.

“The first Other-Henry was actually named Henry as well. And like his predecessor, was an excellent artist who really connected with the characters...”

‘Sammy? What’s going on? do you hear this too?!’

“But unlike Stein, Ross was a very stubborn person who refused to let anyone push him around, especially by either Joey or myself. Surprisingly, I liked that man, but he didn’t last long...”

Fear kept Buddy’s legs frozen to the ground as he covered his ears in a fruitless attempt to muffle the music, it felt like it was being played directly in his head, and then it clicked when the whispers started up, whispers in their tone, but not in volume, they were loud enough to drown out parts of what the Prophet was saying;

‘Sammy help us!’

“The next one was more like you, a younger, less experienced and more skittish person, his first name was ‘Lawrence’ so everyone called him ‘Larry’ to avoid confusion...”

‘Sammy, where are you?’

“...But he was also too nosy for that poor boy’s own good.”

‘you’re too weak!’

“The one after that was a scatterbrained fellow, very passionate about his work but didn’t focus very much on one topic or another...”

The Prophet’s monologue was completely drowned out by the music and chorus of desperate and angry “Other Henries” at this point. Buddy knew he was still talking because of the musician’s gestures, but didn’t hear a single word out of him. 

‘Saaaaaammyyyyyyy....’ ‘You’re such a spineless coward...’ ‘Sammy please save us..!’ ‘Why did you let Joey kill us?’ ‘The ink... it’s so cold...’ ‘No wonder Susie hates you so much...’ ‘Sammy, please! It hurts!’ ‘Why did you let us die?’ ‘Why won’t you help us?’ ‘You’re no better than Joey.’ ‘Sammy, help us!’ ‘I thought you loved me...’ ‘Sammy, help us!’ ‘You promised me that you’d always be there!’ ‘Sammy, help us!’ ‘They were right about you...’ ‘Sammy, help us!’ ‘Saaaaaammyyyyyyy....’

He knew that the lost ones, searchers and Prophet could hear each others’ thoughts, but didn’t understand what that was like until now that he was hearing Sammy’s thoughts. No wonder most of them were always so depressed and on edge...

‘Sammy?’ the gofer shook Sammy gently, only to hear his own voice join the chorus of other Henries as one of the ones who sounded like he was mad at him. ‘Sammy, snap out of it!’ he shook the Prophet harder, still not waking the Ink creature out of its trance. ‘SAMMY!’ Doing the first thing that came to mind out of desperation, Buddy slapped the mask clean off of it.

The music and voices died as if they were a candle light snuffed out by the wind.

For a few seconds that felt more like hours, Buddy and Sammy stared at each other in silence before Sammy put its mask back on as if nothing happened and led the toon wolf out of the goldfish room, took a key out of its pocket and locked it behind them.

-----

Back in the safe house, Buddy started up a pot of bacon soup, the stuff tasted a little bit better when it was hot while Sammy tuned the banjo in the dining area and Dot tried to stir up conversation.

“So... how did the supply run go?”

“Fine.”

Buddy involuntarily let out a snort as he took the soup off the stove and took out his typewriter.

[It was the scariest one we’ve ever done so far.

While looking around for stuff, we ended up in this place S The Prophet called ‘the Goldfish room’ and it was filled with dead bodies. HUMAN dead bodies. And mine was in the pile! I couldn’t tell if it was haunted or if it was just the prophet’s thoughts going]

“Little wolf, I do not wish to think about that room again...”

[Sorry.]

The wolf sheepishly put the typewriter to the side and poured the soup into bowls. As the toon and lost one ate, the prophet mostly just stared into his bowl as if he was watching something in it.

“...Before my enlightenment, I was not a good person.” The masked musician stated unprompted.

“Huh?”

“I wasn’t an evil person per say, and I wouldn’t go as far as to call the man I used to be a monster.” He sighed and adjusted his mask. “But I was certainly a bad person, an asshole, a coward who hid behind physical strength, and I had more vices than virtues.”

[Prophet, what are you talking about?]

“I’m trying to answer the questions I know you have before either of you two pester them out of me. Maybe when you’re sated my Lord will allow me to forget again.”

[Are you sure? you seemed really upset back ...there.]

“Well look at it this way, maybe getting it off your chest will help you feel better about it?”

“I suppose...” The prophet sighed again.

“So what does you being a crackhead before finding the Ink Demon Religion have to do with a room full of dead bodies?”

“Dorthy!”

“...I’ll just listen before asking anything else.”

“Thank you.” It readjusted its mask. “Now where was I...” it hummed to itself for a bit before speaking again, with venom slowly but surly pooling into its words. “I had more vices than virtues, and Joey could see all of both, using my virtues to his advantage, and using my vices against myself, he did everything he could to keep me from leaving him too, and it worked.”

The prophet took in a deep breath to stabilize itself.

“Every time I tried to leave, he did something else to make me stay; ‘I love you’s turned to gifts, gifts to false promises, false promises to threats, threats to blackmail, blackmail to going through with it, and when he felt me slipping through his fingers he turned to taking advantage of my addictions... That... monster was a parasite in all aspects except physically... And I didn’t even notice until I might as well have been a walking corpse as I was seeing others march to my fate, but I couldn’t even so much as squeak out a warning without Joey swooping in on his behalf. Some Henries, heads of the art department, didn’t need to be warned by me as they found out what would await them and fled. But Joey didn’t like that... When I tried to warn the ones who needed to be warned, it was easy for him to dismiss me as a loon, a drunk, and an addict, until eventually I just gave up. I couldn’t even save myself, let alone anyone else... let alone the other art departments...”

“...I just stopped trying to keep Joey from leading the sheep to the slaughter, maybe they’re right to be angry at me for being such a coward...”

It then turned to face the wolf and put its hand on his shoulder.

“You’ve asked yourself if you’ve ever met me before the Ink had claimed me, as for that, I don’t know, nor do I think it matters, Buddy. I was nothing but a shallow and beaten husk of myself long before I even had tasted the ink. Even if you met me before then, you only met a ghost, not a person.”

The three then stayed in silence for a while before the clicks of Buddy’s typewriter caught the other two’s attention.

[Well, if it helps you any I think you’re not as bad of a person as you tell yourself you used to be.]

“And I don’t need to hear everyone’s thoughts to know that you’ve really stepped up to the plate when it counted. I don’t think a coward would try to do have the stuff you’re doing now.”

“Thanks you two” The Prophet’s voice cracked with emotion. “That... that really means a lot to me.”

[pinkhairedlily]

He waits for her to break the spell

Prompt: Dates | AO3 link here | Connect with me on Twitter. (Belated) Happy SS Month everyone! 🌸🍅🥗 @ssskmonth

A/N: Almost 3,000 words so this is quite lengthy as well. 😅

Waves break against the cobblestones on the shore. Sasuke picks apart the shiny seaglasses with his eyes as they glint against the fading rays of the sun. His legs alternately swing with her on the seawall as they silently watch the small fishing boats dock at a nearby port. A flock of seagulls fly above them, calling it a day and coming home.

He waits for her to break the spell.

They’ve been here before, and several times the gaps were filled in with laughters, awkward conversations, and hushed confessions. He grew up with her, their houses on the same block, same primary schools, same favorite parks, but he never talked to her. But he knew her name, and she knew his. They knew each other’s families. It was one of those instances when you just saw a steady familiar face as you go through the motions of life.

He took a month’s worth of leave after the unfortunate car crash, and he settled back in quite all right, much better than his older brother who remained catatonic and would never truly grieve until his adulthood. The first week after, she followed him home, a few meters trailing behind him but close enough that he was always in her line of sight. He didn’t mind; after all, their houses were on the same block.

Then one day, she pulled his drifting mind to safety when he almost walked into an open manhole. The distances between them shortened in the following weeks until she walked beside him, even with no conversation.

She brought him here on the eve of his parents’ first death anniversary. They raced against the looming cumulonimbus with their rickety bikes after she ambushed him in front of the school gates after class. And he followed her, even when she said nothing, even when there was a storm coming.

When they arrived at the dock, the fishers were hurriedly tethering their boats to the steel posts, knowing the possibility that they will be strung away but trusting the hold the rope has, nonetheless.

It was a big storm and large drops were starting to pour down, but she stood on the edge of the seawall with arms stretched out to her side, her rose hair in disarray around her face, her eyes closed to welcome the fall of the rain. And just as the usual, he followed her, his body straining to keep upright against the gusts. He remembered feeling the rain come down like pellets, and he was sure he winced in pain. For the first seconds of that moment, he regretted coming along with her. Insane, irrational, dangerous – two teenagers soaking up the storm. But he felt it welling soon enough, the emotion he spent twelve months bottling up. It began to rack up slowly, accompanying his deep breath, and following his exhale, continuous sobs lost in the whistle of the gale.

He waits for her to break the spell.

The place has become solace for him. His signal was sometimes a pebble thrown at his window at four in the morning. Huddled up in a blanket he bunched in his bag pack, they sipped hot chocolate from the same thermos, their legs brushing against each other as they waited for the sun to rise.

“I want to be in the same class as you,” Sakura said, the blanket completely covering her head except her eyes, and he couldn’t tell whether it was a joke.

“That’s very clingy of you.” He tried to lighten it.

“And beat you in recitations and assignments and grades.”

“Clingy.” He repeated.

She loosened the blanket from her head and stuck out her tongue at him. “So what?”

So what, indeed. He only realized this as he fell into a deep sleep after they went home – they missed the sunrise, and that was their first conversation.

Sometimes the signals were just a wave – after classes at the gates – and they would bike to the seawall, just in time for the sunset. He cannot exactly pinpoint the exact date he gave her a mixtape, but the following afternoon, she brought a portable cd player and they listened to it with an earphone each on their ears.

And he doesn’t know why or what it was that triggered him, but he held her pinky finger with the long earphone wire in between. His memory was of her laughing, removing her finger momentarily from his touch and engulfing his entire hand with hers. It was warm and rough against the surface of the seawall.

He waits for her to break the spell.

They ditched prom, she dressed in an emerald dress that matched the intensity of her gaze, in two-inch heels, and messy bun of pink curls, and he in a classic black tuxedo set handed down to him by a cousin in the next city over. They would have won prom king and queen, but they traded the first dance with the meandering waltz through the busy streets in his motorcycle.

It caught him offguard, the way she looked ethereal without the distraction of a busy port or its harsh blinding lights. She was in company with the murmur of the waves and the soft echoes of a bustling city at night and his silent presence. They stood on the seawall, hand in hand, and her head was at a perfect height to lay on his shoulders thanks to her heels. She did the gesture while humming a song by The Cure. It was on her mixtape, but the title escaped him.

“Why don’t we dance, Sasuke?” She lifted her head and twirled around on the precarious ledge, her trust solely on his grip on her wrist.

“You told me you didn’t want to dance.” He pulled her in closer and placed both of her arms around his neck while his hands went to her waist.

“I want the stars as our audience,” she chided as they swayed side to side to an invisible beat. She started to sing in an offkey manner, and she laughed in between words when Sasuke didn’t bother to hide his regrets.

We’re never done with killing time, can I kill it with you

Till our veins run red and blue…

We come around here all the time

Got a lot to not do, let me kill it with you

She laughed harder when he joined her, his deep, sultry voice accompanying hers in a disconcerted rendition of the song.

You pick me up and take me home again

Head out the window again

We’re hollow like the bottles that we drain

You drape your wrist over the steering wheel, pulses can drive from here

We might be hollow, but we’re brave

“And I like you.” He reached through the small gap between their faces and captured her lips in a kiss. Soft, plump, cold. And she opened her mouth in response, welcoming his tongue with a smoldering warmth. They found their way to his empty house, his older brother a shell of pill-induced sleep, and they fell on his bed skin to skin, teeth to teeth, bones to bones. Her dress and heels on his floor and her rose strands on his pillow, fanned out and clenched through his fingers.

He waits for her to break the spell.

She was moving away. She told him this a month before graduation. Medicine in her dream school. He congratulated her with a sincere smile. He even tucked stray hair behind her ear, and she smiled back just as brightly.

Two days before her departure, they met here again at the peak of the port’s busiest harvest season. She cut her hair and dyed it black. For a change, she said.

“Why don’t you come with me?” she asked unprompted. Before this, she gave him a box of memorabilia, of things she wanted to leave behind with him.

Things she wanted to do away with. Things she doesn’t want with her.

Sasuke smirked. He put his hands inside his jacket’s pockets, afraid of holding her hands. “Why don’t you stay here with me?”

“You’re right. That was a selfish question.” She waved her hands in front of her as if to dissipate the weird atmosphere. Then, she looked at him with those piercing jade eyes. “But I wish you would, get out of this city, see the rest of the world blah blah, you know the script.”

This isn’t a miserable town when you are here, Sakura.

“Leave the grief behind,” she finished.

The doubts crept in. “So it was pity after all.”

That hit her bad, and her face contorted into a series of emotions, too fleeting for him to name everything at once. But she never got full on angry with him. The most argument they had was a cold shoulder that lasted for a month. “I was just offering you a chance to start over.”

“As if I cannot start over on my own,” he supplied.

“In this place?”

“This is my home, Sakura.”

“This isn’t mine,” she replied. “I can’t stay here. You know my dreams.”

He knew them all too well. He saw the pamphlets and brochures of the university stacked on her desk, and the map of the world gobsmacked on the wall of her room with pins on specific places and post-its of attractions. It didn’t escape him that there was no pin for their city or a post-it with his name. It was a hovering observation that haunted his head for years, and that eventually, he would have to decide.

But the world was too big for him, too expansive that he was afraid of the grief he would have unlocked at every place he stepped in. Sasuke smacked his lips together and nodded. “Keep in touch, will you?”

His hands fumbled with a box inside his pocket. I can’t follow you everywhere, Sakura.

“At least don’t remember what I felt as mere pity.”

It was a desolate moment, their seemingly absent outburst of emotions contrasted by yells of traders in the small impromptu market that assembled on the dock. She nodded, both knowing that it was an empty promise. She proceeded to stood on tiptoes, and he met her movement with an embrace as their lips touched for what felt like was a final kiss under the searing sun.

He waits for her to break the spell.

The waves come after midnight, Sasuke noticed. Sporadic sleepless nights comes in twos or threes or sevens, and he would glance at his weather application on his phone, swiping until he finds her city and wonders what she’s up to.

The text found him at his third cup of coffee before sunrise.

“It’s a great day to be out and about, sun will be shining today!”

Her city was in the middle of a hurricane path.

But she wasn’t. She was in front of his doorstep several years after she went away. Rose hair, emerald eyes, and a smile that he constantly chased in his dreams. She was back for the summer only, a quick break, a breather in her other words.

His caffeine-induced soul followed her footsteps out of his house and through the grocery aisles. He doesn’t engage her in conversation, but she has her hand in his, twirling now and then, euphoric to be in his orbit for a moment.

And he lost control of the script he prepared in his mind and the list of reasons why he shouldn’t be meeting her again because he, too, was euphoric to revolve around her again.

To refamiliarize all of her contours, to explore the new dips and marks that carved her skin, to taste the places she went to, to get a glimpse of her new batch of memories, to fill his senses with her being.

He parked his car beside the seawall one night, and Sakura waved him over, two bottles of beer already drained beside her.

“I heard Itachi got married.”

Sasuke halved his bottle before replying. “Izumi. Gentle but firm, dependable also. They liked the mountains more than the sea so they’re on the other side of the city.” He paused and drank the other half in one gulp. “How was….the world?”

“Shitty.” Sakura laughed. Spite, remorse, regret. “Med school is all right, aced it, like how you aced your law school.” A proud smile right there, and he caught that she implied she was keeping tabs on him even though there were no letters and calls, only sparse texts in few and between of the usual how are you and the default reply of I’m okay. “The rounds are what’s bad, like I’m always giving away a part of myself every time I treat. I have self-awareness and I’m empathetic, but I can only give away so much. There’s nothing I can take in return anyway. And life is moving too fast. Someone’s getting married, someone’s having a kid, and I’m stuck in scut duty with 72-hour shifts and I come home to no one.”

“And you feel lonely.” Sasuke summed it up for her.

“I wish I believed you when you told me this was my home.”

She swooped in into his space to place her lips on his mouth, and he allowed her to fill him in. He lost all reasoning when she appeared in his doorstep at the beginning of this season, and he will again lose all reasoning when it was time for her to go back. So he savored all what she could give.

Even if she was oblivious that he has given all of him, for her to take and not return. Like a boat capsizing in the middle of the storm and following the waves down to the bottom.

He waits for her to break the spell.

He waits for her to break the spell. Stars dots the transitioning purple sky, and the seaglass now glints against the moonshine. She pushes the stop button of the cd player even though it was no longer functioning, and they don’t have earphones on.

“I’m getting married.”

He knows even before she uttered the words from her own lips. He saw the band on her finger when she drifted through the grocery aisles with a silver-haired man a day ago. He twirled her in between shelves regardless of the bemused faces of onlookers, and he made her laugh out loud to the extent that she clutched at her sides.

And Sasuke wished he didn’t hear her laughter through his rushing thoughts.

“Congratulations,” he simply says.

“It just happened. He’s actually a schoolmate of ours, but he moved out to the next state for senior high. Kakashi? Does the name ring a bell?” Her face is animated when she says his name. “We met in the hospital. Turns out he’s a resident there too.”

God forbid he remembers him. All his memories conjure is this seawall and her face, her rose hair, and her emerald eyes. Sasuke doesn’t know what to reply.

She sighs. “You know what I’m trying to say. We’ve always been two halves of each other.”

He doesn’t want to reply. He wants to ask a hundred questions instead. What things remind her of him? Does any sea, dock, or fishing boat transport her to memories with him? Does she see his face in the middle of grocery aisles? Did she ever love him? Did she ever have regrets? Would they have ended up together if he followed her? Did he fight for her enough to want her to stay?

“Just a minute,” he says, but it’s almost a plea. “Just a minute more.”

And she holds on to his hand and intertwines her fingers with his against the rough surface of the seawall. She scoots closer and lays her head on his shoulder, a bit broader than what she might remember, and he hopes to gods that she is memorizing his scent just as he is memorizing the curve of her head on his neck and the feel of her now long rose strands against his cheeks.

“I love you.” Sasuke doesn’t expect a reply, and even if she does answer back, he knows all too well that they don’t have the same gravity as his.

“I love you,” she whispers in his ear.

Not a minute later she stands up, dispelling the spell that hovered between them, walking towards a place he cannot follow no matter how he wishes. And he sits on top of the seawall an hour longer, alone with the shore, the stars, and the silent dock.

He pulls out the velvet box from his pocket and stares at the ring that should have been on her finger. He closes it and flings it to the sea.

What is wrong with me that I made a fluff prompt angst? Anyway, please listen to 400 lux and Hard Feelings by Lorde for full effects. Thanks for reading!

[idris-hunts-the-mando]

Right place, Right time  \the departure pt.1/

Rating: Mature

Words: 6.1k

A/N:  this took me the bulk of a week to complete, i think ill make a few small bite sized works for a while, working on the next part in a week or so, once i get myself back together. give me all the love you as a reader can, I’m fueled by praise/hj 

pairings: none yet

Warnings: series typical violence, hard swearing, moderate gore

I woke up sore and hurt in the bunk room, the cold cot felt like frozen river stones under my tired bones. I could tell we arrived at our destination from the frostbite settling into my fingers and nose. The slow neutral hum of machinery was a tell tale sign that the ship was at ease, the noise usually deafening. Pulling my threadbare scarf up over my neck and chin, i started regretting choosing this particular cargo ship going to a frozen planet for a runaway plan. I braced for the aggravating beginning to the tiresome day and sat up from my cramped bunk space. sleeping in a room with a dozen oily work worn men didnt make any part of the trip to Maldo Keris easier, not to mention the fact they all saw me as more of a womp rat and less of a sentient being. keeping my eyes to myself, i shoved my tattered boots over my feet buckled my tool belt to my hip and hurried out of the barracks before the bulk of my crew mates woke up. stepping out onto the loading dock,i took a breath in. the smell of poorly filtered air irked my mechanics brain. It would be such an easy fix if they payed me to care. But alas, for this particular voyage, i was bunked out like a stowaway, giving in return my fix-it help around deck for passage off my planet of origin. Sighing out the musty air, i checked my stations. Navigating the hold was like a womp rat through a maze, you had to be rather nimble and graceful to get through the makeshift corridors without issue. Unluckily for me, I was neither nimble nor graceful. When i got to the panel, i took out my key ring and unlocked the rusted metal door to expose the intricacies within. the wiring looked tip top shape, but the fuel lines needed a bit more attention than the other tangle of electronics, so i took out my multi-tool to tighten the fittings. The liquid distilled Rhydonium that flowed through these particular lines was a less explosive substance than its pure form, but dangerous nonetheless. the multi-tool was a newer model, so it didn't fit this type of bolt all the way, but it was better than nothing. Better than allowing it to loosen over another voyage and have the ship explode mid hyper-speed.

  My mind was so stuck in its own world, the training I had over the many years in a scrappers shop spewing all of its knowings about rhydonium and fuel lines that I didn't have time to notice the first lieutenant Maegs stalking his way over to me. I jumped a moment before he spoke, tightening the last half inch of the bolt down maybe a bit too aggressively.

  "We the captains crew appreciate the helping you've been do'en for this ol beasty of a ship," he mentioned, one his independent eyes viewed me separably, while the second one was monitoring my work. I froze for a moment out of fear, but i didn't think he took notice. "You're more than welcome to stick 'round 'an see what else you can fix up for this rust-bucket." the first lieutenant never gave me much of a hard time, unlike most of the crew. But I had made up my mind the first night in hyperspace that I would haul ass out of this suffocating ship as soon as a habitable planet was spotted. I finished up closing and locking the wires box, shaking my head slowly and turning to face him.

  "I do love the sentiment, lieutenant. but maybe another time if our paths cross again." I forced an obligatory smile, avoiding making eye contact with him at all costs out of fear for not having the attention span to pick and stick to a wondering eye. If i could ever force myself to say something nice about the ship and its crew, it would be the acceptance of short interactions. A conversation rarely surpassed the 'how are you doing today' phase, by the moons it never got to that phase in the first place. And I was a person of not many words, and not much of a filter.

  Maegs nodded slowly, clasping two of his 4 arms behind his back and turning away. I felt the need to repay his unprompted kindness with some suggestions for the ship before I left it for good. Call me sentimental, but this ship, albeit mostly composed of literal blood sweat and spit, was my ticket into a new life. "don't let yourself get caught without changing the air filtration system, them new republic scouters are picky about what type of poison you use for cremates." I remark with a little smirk. Maegs paused, narrowing his eyes, amused by the backhanded remark. He had surely gotten complaints about the smell before. He gave a thoughtful nod toward me, and allowed himself a small smile. I looked down in my hands, the key ring still hanging off my index finger. I tossed it towards him and was relieved when he caught it. he turned with no further words needed. On his way to the control room, he pushed the cargo bay door release button. My line of sight was clear from the opening door to the nearby port town and when the frosty air stung my face, I knew in my soul that this was a good thing. Taking in a breath of the salted frozen air, my body naturally recoiled. I'm not one for cold. 'Ah well, way to go picking the nearest ice planet than idiot' I scolded myself, pulling my cloak back over my shoulders to take the first step out of the ship held together with sticker line and bantha spit. 'Good riddance'.

  Walking into town was harder than expected, the ice on the ground blended into the ice of the horizon, making spacial reasoning a thing of the past. The only anchor I had to the planet besides its heavy gravity was the stark grey buildings stapled to the sheets of ice about 10 meters in front of me. I never could have guessed the sky of Maldo Keris could get any uglier, but planets like these have a way of surprising a person. I tucked my hair and ears away with the hood of my raggedy travelers cloak, bracing myself from the heavy winds by retreating further and further into my cloths. I stayed on the worn path from the ship's dock port, hearing from previous crew mates that this was the warm season, that the ice was thinner and the creatures lurking underneath had no sense of remorse. Now nervous at the revival of that pleasant memory, I kept a close eye on my surroundings, not having the most faith in my feet for staying their course. The wind stung at my exposed skin, reminding me I was wearing only my work cloths that weren't  meant for the sudden change in climate. The cloak I had was best at protecting my human skin from the suns above. Beyond that, my tatterd outer layer didn't do much for the safeguarding of my body heat.

  I was relieved to have stumbled to shade from the wind so quickly, the heavy kit bag on my back was starting to feel more like a boulder taped to my body than a simple means of containing my tools and spare cloths. Paying attention to the signs overhead, i quickly located the nearest cantina and rushed towards it as fast as any human Popsicle can. Opening the circular doors with the press of a button took me into what felt like a summer time resort. Hiding my appreciation for the warmth from the patrons staring at me, i collected my composure and swiftly found an open table. The electronic doors closed rather harshly behind me. I recognized the sound of faulty pressure hinge and eyed the door for a moment when i took my seat. That door was a danger to customers who get caught in it, it could cause some serious injuries for larger species and even fatalities for humanoids.

  Sitting down at the frosty old wooden chair was a relief on the fatigue in my joints. It was neither a comfortable seat, nor a relatively stable one, but it gave me time to take off my pack and study the small, rather ugly, room I found myself to be in. It wasn't too long before I would have to order something, or I feared starvation. The crew mates on the cargo ship were kind, if the bare minimum counts. Food once a day (as per average in the parsec), and as much sleep as necessary per species or race. For humans in particular, that amount of time was annoyingly low. tired and hungry was a bad mix for me as it is, but add cold to that mixture, and the first person to get on my nerves would be the last. i checked the contents of my bag to make sure everything looked as it should and moved up from my chair, replacing the spot with my hefty bag. I was rather confident that if any Kung Nerfhearder tried to run off with it, it would be too weighted for them to get far. I may be rather small compared to other sub species of humans, but i pride myself on my strength often.

  Making my way to the bar counter, I lean up between two silent patrons sitting a few seats away from each-other. I get the barkeep's attention with a wave of my fingers, calling him to me. "What kind of meal do you have on the stove top right now?" I ask with my flattest low tone. In port towns like this its important to be as emotionless as possible in order to not draw attention to yourself. Colorless, shapeless, uniform and mad was always the role you had to play to make it through the galaxy.

  "We got a silver weed in the radiator, it'll be 3 credits." He replied, picking up a glass and wiping it out with his rag covered hand. I pulled the amount needed out of my pocket and set it down on the bar counter. he swiped his hand over the credits, picking them up quickly. nodding, he left the sight of the bar for only a spit second before returning to the table with a small bowl of mush. I tried my best to smile and be thankful for the meal, but as the bowl transferred to my hands I had to focus on not gagging. I hurried back to my private table in the corner and settled back into my seat, dropping my bag on the floor between my legs to keep it as safe as possible. The last thing I want is a soup that tastes like the scrapings of a persons shoe into street worn snow, but what can you expect on a planet such as this. Prodding the gelatinous mass in the bowl with my spoon, I ponder the ever growing question of 'what in the hell is in this shit'. my mind wonders deep into its personal wonderland while my environment continues to be less and less favorable.

     Hostile voices from the other side of the cantina rise louder and louder, as if at the warm up stage of a slowly progressing screaming match. The feeling of sourness in my heart rose with a predictable inclination. The tension in the air grows as yet again the same scene unfolds before my and all other patrons of the cantina's eyes. I strain my neck to see what was happening. At the far end of the room, closer to the door than I am, I saw the oddly familiar face of a poor amphibious creature's head being slammed on the table he was sitting at. The oldest and most primal of situations, the strong picking on the weak. Three tall imposing figures towered over the poor humanoid looking fellow who was obvious to any idiot to be lacking in intimidating features. Seeing this obligatory show of power for any insecure creature with anger issues never sat right with me. It reminded me too much of where I came from, the slums of sand and glass where bullies like these were treated like royalty without challenge from the ones they harassed.

     'Dank ferrik, don't do it' i challenged the assaulter internally, as if pleading with them to harm their victim any more so I would have a reason to put in use my blade skills. i had no idea where I've seen that face before, but as they say, curiosity killed the Cathar. And there it happened, the final action in the escalation. The largest of the assaulter lifted the poor guy to his feet and the ring leader lifted his knife to the throat of his victim. A cry of anguish and fear came from the poor fool being restrained, and that was my last straw.

     I stood from my chair, kicking away my bag and drawing my vibroblade from my thigh holster, walking over to the group across the tavern. I growl, squaring my shoulders and stiffening my legs to make me seem bigger. I must have looked pretty wild, my tattered cloak drawn over my body like a dark fog, and my scarf still pulled up like a mask over my nose with only my furious green eyes over the top. Just as I started my warpath towards the men, the heavy ring shaped door to the cantina opened abruptly, startling a few of the onlookers. I knew what type of situation I had put myself in and how important focus and intimidation was, so I didn't take any time away from the assholes with blades to gawk at who had happened to stroll in. With my attention solely married to the poor bastard and his assailants, I noticed all of their attention was stripped from their target and glued to the newcomer. Evaluating my surroundings, I saw most of the other patrons in my sight were enthralled too. This piqued my interest and I felt it safe enough to turn and check out the royalty.

     Standing soberly at the bar counter, the figure of a mandolorian stood in silence, facing the bar keep. My heart dropped first, than my jaw. Only legend, only in the oldest fables and the scary stories my nan would use to scare me into not stealing the sweets late at night, had I ever heard of the likes of him. from the bescar armor forged in the heart of a black flame forge (or so i've been told) to the galaxy known creed of mandalore, this being was the stuff of leadgeneds. To be feared and adorned wherever they so chose to walk. but not anymore. Not since the planet turned to glass a hundred years ago, destroying much of what was known of the infamous warriors.

     I don't think the aggressors saw me and the dangerous piece of weaponry clasped in my hand, instead they looked drunkenly amused at the new patron, like sly cats with a new toy. surveying his surroundings, the warrior's expressionless visor swept the room. He inspected the threat levels of the patrons, the bullies, the amphibious humanoid sucker that was caught under it all. The mandolorian made no comment as he momentarily swept over me, with my clenched fist around the vibroblade. Rather he ignored me entirely, leaning against the bar counter and staring absentmindedly at the wall ahead of him. The scum saw this as an odd mandolorian intimidation tactic and took it to heart, growling a string of multilingual insults. I couldn't quite understand all the words from their  chosen dialect, but something about a drink spilling and how it was somehow the mando's fault.

     when they didn't get a response, they snorted, puffing their chest out and stalking towards the armored newcomer. Continuing to talk in another language I didn't understand fully, the bar keep attempted to translate, feeling the tensions rise in the air. "He says you spilled his drink." a moment of silence, with the smell of anger wafting from the half intoxicated bantha shaggers, And the barman attempted to diffuse the situation by offering the men drinks to hopefully get them to settle down. And by the two suns it did not. The drink slid from the barkeep's hand and down the table. The mandolorian took it out of its trajectory and started the assault, smashing the creature's head on the counter to his right and simultaneously twisting the louder man on his left arm until the knife in his hand stabbed himself in the ass. As the third attempted to run out the front door, mando caught him with his grappling wire and pulled him back. The tangled creature got his blaster from a thigh holder and shot a round at his would-be captor. The blaster fire ricochet off the bescar Armour, bringing the mando's attention to his own firearm. With the tangled assaulter in the right position, mando fired a single shot at the door of the cantina, Forcing the wiring to go into hyperactive shut down, closing the doors around the alien. The doors struggled for a moment, and so did the thing caught in it, but nothing stopped the metal and electricity from slicing through the meat of its body. The legs of the now dead man fell to the ground at the door with a sickening thump.

     After this, the silence in the room was so thick you could swing at it with a hatchet and not make a dent in the shock factor. unsurprisingly enough, every patron went back to their own businesses with each other as if nothing had happened. A pair sitting at a table close to the door went swiftly to the half body to move it away to continue the flow of traffic as they then scurried out the doors, carrying the top half between them. Scavengers i bet, black market womp rats' i thought, sighing at how quickly the circle of life can flash before your eyes. death isn't something to be dewlled on in a universe like this, now back to the issue at hand.

     recollection hit me like a half ton of bricks when I remembered where I saw the face of the teal looking bastard with a knife previously on his neck. Spite flooded in my blood as I narrowed my eyes at my next target, shoving my vibroblade back in my thigh holster aggressively and stomping towards the useless excuse of flesh. "You're a dead man now, Mythrol." I said to myself. he must have heard me, or possibly sensed all the rage walking swiftly at him. His eyes upturned towards me, full of fear, but I now remember there is an ugly smugness to him too. I made it to the table, putting my hands down in front of him, leaning my top body weight on my palms. "You better have a divine excuse for not meeting me at that port you Druk Nerfhearder, or you'll be seeing the wrong side of the ice ocean outside in 30 seconds." I could barely contain my frustration with this sniveling worm, he was the reason i had to bunk with the disgusting oiled engineers for a week in hyperspace. The reason I had only 12 credits in my tech vault and less than that on hand. He scammed me out of a decent ride and my entire years savings. It was a genuine miracle how well I kept myself from not leaping over the table he sat at and giving him a new meaning to crazy bitch.  

     "H-hey, hey you, long time no see huh, man am I sorry for missing out on that meting we had that one time, sorry pal I kinda slept in-" but before he could make up any more exuces, any more lies, my vibroblade was at his throat right where the other man's was just a moment ago. He hissed and recoiled back in his seat, opening and closing his mouth a few times, trying to breathe, to speak. whichever it was, it wouldn't matter soon. He had talked enough in his lifetime to anger hundreds of poor victims throughout the parsec, letting him one last word would be a dishonor to all of them.

     Before I could press the blade into his flesh, a firm leather covered hand wrapped around my forearm, pulling it away carefully. I looked at the arm, attached to it was a shoulder, and atop the shoulder sat a gleaming bescar helmet. I felt my heart sink into the depths of my stomach, the anger switching places with feral panic that I tried my absolute best to contain. No words came from the mandolorian, a simple shake of his head was all i got. he loosened the grip on my arm, letting it recall back to my center of gravity.Ii looked down at the arm, looking for any obvious signs of damage, but his grip was closer to gentle and firm than harsh. A soft metallic thud brought my attention to the table, where the mando has tossed a puck. A bounty puck. Today was certainly a day for emotions, because T felt as pleased as a jawa coming across the flashing screen of Mythrol's face on the holographic screen projected by the puck.        Mytrol looked between me and the mandolorian a few times before painting his face with a fake smile, the wheels in his head turning into overdrive trying to make a lie up to get himself out of this one. "Is that me?" he questioned, the forced denial barely hiding the fear in his eyes. "Aw come on, I can pay you more than that pitiful bounty, a whole new cruiser," he pleaded, bargaining for his life. "on me, waddaya say."

     The mandolorian doesn't waste a breath to reply, his electronically filtered voice filling the getting-to-be awkward silence. "I can take you in warm." he placed a hand on his hip holster, bringing attention to the deadly gun strapped in it. "Or I can bring you in cold." Mythroll's face turned pale with fear, looking like a sort of pale blue spirit. Gulping down what could have been vomit, or another plea for life, he couldn't move at all, just staring at the mandolorian's unfeeling visor.

     The mandolorian slaps restraints on mythrol's wrists, pulling him up and out of his chair in one swift motion, the disparaged lump following along with his hands bound together. He seemed resigned to his fate as he was pulled out of the cantina, leaving in his wake and eruption of whispers and a few sobs of relief from the clientele of the bar. I myself was in a state of shock by what had happened and the intense speed at which it had occurred, Standing in front of a table with drops of blood on it not knowing what to do next. Mythrol had cheated me out of a lot of money, and he was just walking away, atoning for crimes he didn't commit against me. that in and of itself felt somewhat fair, fair to any of the galaxy he had screwed over so far.  

     My body flew back to my table mostly on its own, smashing into the chair at which I had just been sitting less than a minute ago. I hauled my ridiculously large bag over one shoulder, the extra strap free in the wind. I knew i had to at least try. for myself. Running back to the door panel where the halfed creature had met his end, I slammed the controls urgently, opening the door back out to the wild wind of Maldo Keris. Scanning the nearby environment was hard without protective goggles to shield me from the dust and yuck in the wind, but I spotted a pair of hulking figures 15 yards from the cantina, moving at a steady pace away. Try for me, I can do this one thing for myself. I sprinted as fast as I could with the pack over one shoulder, making me surely look like some sort of lame bantha to any possible onlookers. "Wait! wait please!" I called out to the mandolorian, my tone accidentally becoming demanding, but I think that helped to get the mandolorian's attention. They stopped and Mythrol looked at the mando, as if he was pleading to get him away from me in fear I had came back just to fight a mandolorinan for a chance to stab him again. As tantalizing as that thought was, the actions I were taking were purely selfish. I deserve justice just as much as any poor sap sad enough to cross paths with the scamming womp rat or the mystery person who called for the bounty.

     "Please let me come with you for when you collect his bounty." I asked somberly, stopping my chase a few paces away from the pair standing together. "I swear I wont take the credits from you, I just want to see him pay for what he's done." Tiny beads of sweat pearled at my brow, my breath was labored in my throat. Even walking with my bag was hard, but I had just chased down a bounty hunter and his captive. Strands of my hair stuck to my forehead and I wiped them away with the back of my forearm once they crept into my eyes.

   Mytrhol had to get his two cents in of course, holding the bounty hunter by the cape and making his eyes go wide with worry. "I don't know who this person is, don't let them come along, they could try to hurt me!" He plead, tugging on the cape like a whiny child. Now the anger came back, a cold rage in my fists, ready to start brutalizing someone at the drop of a pin. I narrowed my eyes at Mythrol, who didst bother to return the look. the mandolorian stared for a moment, looking off behind me in thought. The worry then set in, a fear whispered in the back of my skull 'You'll never get your closure and die alone on this hell planet.' My eyes went to the obsidian visor of the mando, creasing my brows together, subconsciously chewing on my lip as he made his decision. Loosening his shoulders, he slumped his head downward, as if morally defeated. I was taken aback by the conflict he was having about weather or not to let a weird stranger aboard his ship or not. oddly enough I understood his seeming frustration, I wouldn't let me go if I were him. He picked his head up after a second, looking me up and down as if to study me entirely. I felt eyes over my body, it was weirdly intimate. When he made his way back up to my eyes, he stood in silence for a moment before asking. "Do you have any weapons on you besides the blade?"

   Certainly a different question than what I thought was going to be asked, so for the answer, I had to think about it for a moment, mentally going through my bag and person. "n, no. I have my vibroblade. and a sack full of my electrician's tools, but they arn't traditional weapons." I responded earnestly, my tone going flat again. Another moment of silence, Mythrol looking quickly between the bounty hunter and myself.

   "If you truly wish to see the bounty delivered, I can take you to the trade. In exchange for the ride there, my ship needs mild internal repairs. If you try to cross me," He paused, a hand went to his blaster as a warning. A flashback to the cantina entered my forethought, the image of his hand on his blaster the same way as it was now moments before a man got cut in half. The warning was received properly, I felt thoroughly intimidated. "You'll be dead before you could pray to any gods." damn. That was intense. thoroughly intimidated, to the core. i took a breath in, almost allowing myself time to rethink my request in its entirity. but i responded with a quick nod. I knew my way around most ship interiors, if the ship wasn't rusted and breaking in half on take off, i knew i'd be able to mend it.

   The mandolorian gave no other word to me and turned, walking towards the ice flats docking crew. I allowed myself a cheeky smirk, fulfillment at the succession in my pursuit gave my heart a good warm squeeze. Following along behind the mandoloian a pace, he negotiated with the docking crew, asking oddly enough for a live pilot, not a droid. Some harmonic whistling came from the ferryman, hailing over a rust bucket of a speeder. As the speeder came to a stop to collect its haul, rusted pieces of under backing fell from the rear, clanking to the ice annoyingly. We all loaded into the speeder, I sat in front with the driver, the mando and his bounty in the back, a gloved hand around Mythrol's bicep at all times. We reached out frozen destination, the driver of the speeder calling one last warning to the three of us after collecting his dues and puttering off towards the port.

   I took a moment to asses the hull of the razor crest, it wasn't too bad for a pre new republic vessel. Some battle scars here and there around the landing gear, a charred blaster fire mark on the windows of the cockpit. This was truly the ship of a bounty hunter. Turning to follow the speeder's course, I couldn't help but feel a deep unease, he had warned about the ice planet's personal creature of death, Ravanack. Just then, the entire rusty hull of the speeder and its driver were swallowed whole in a single angry bite. The ravanack retreated back into the ice just as Mythroll let out a girlish scream of terror. He booked it twords the mandolorian who was opening the hatch to the belly of his ship, screaming for dear life to let him in. The ice where the speeder was swallowed started cracking in the direction of the ship, very quickly speeding directly at Mythrol.

   My instincts kicked in and I hopped out of the way, swinging myself onto the floor of the cargo hold of the ship with the momentum of my bag. Just as i got out of harms way, the mandolorian swung himself out of the ship to grab the petrified blue idiot only moments before the jaws of his early death lunged out of the ice, driving sickeningly deep into the landing gear of the razor crest. I winced at the damage done, scrambling back away from the flying Mythroll the mando had haphazardly chucked at me. The mandolorian seemed to ignore me entirely, herding his bounty into the cockpit with him. As the engines revved and the propellers blasted their heat down towards the ice at max capacity, the beast clung tightly to its prey of metal and paint, determined wholeheartedly to bring the ship down to its frigid death. The mando hopped down the ladder, rushing to the cargo bay door with his riffle. he stabbed the bayonet into the beast's head, sending a current of electricity into its skull. the beast roared furiously, releasing the ship and sinking back into the inky ocean.

   I collected myself and scrambled up off the floor. the cargo bay doors closed quickly, leaving the mandolorian and myself in the ambient humming of the bay. His breast plate rose and fell, getting less an less noticeable as he calmed down. turning towards me. He nodded at a upturned metal basket with a weather worn blanket tossed over it. I took the hint and put my bag on top of the makeshift stool, retrieving from it my more universal tools. Going from one job to another wasn't my ideal, but this was a more opportunistic adventure. My original goal was only ever to get off the sun bitten planet i was from, beyond that was up to fate, and I can't really complain about where it took me today. Now i'm headed to gods know where with a mandolorian and his bounty who single-handedly ruined the last year and a half's hard work I had done. turning my head towards the mandolorian, I saw him stand in the hallway between the cargo bay and the cockpit, eyeing his bounty.

   Words hung on the end of my tongue, ready to ask millions of questions out of pure adrenaline fueled thrill. But I stopped myself from spilling over, taking notice of the details in the mando's body for the first time. For the most feared warrior in the galaxy, this man looked as any other bounty hunter. His armor was chipped and dented, highlighting the flaws in the outer most shell of himself. A deep rooted curiosity took roots just then, desiring to know more of what laid under his iron and bescar plates. "Where should I start working first?" I asked as politely as possible. feeling a need to use respective words when in the presence of a man who just stabbed a water beast in the head. This got his attention away from the bounty if only for a moment. He paused for a second, going through the archives of his mind to see where needed the most urgent attention. Turning 180 degrees, he lifted a gloved hand to point at the panel of buttons and levers at the end of the metal room. It looked mostly in tact, but only mostly. There was blaster char at the center of the damage, near the bottom left hand corner of the panel itself. "Yikes." I whispered mostly to myself, reaching in my bag for a clean oil rag. Acknowledging the mandolrian's request with a glance and half nod, I got to work at the station. It looked to be the control panel for the gun hold under the main cargo bay. The possible stories tied with the maiming of this piece of equipment swarmed my mind, finding my own way of theorizing any number of adventurous tales.

   A few minutes go by, tweaking the damaged area as best I could to fit my hands into the circuitry. Mythroll passed by quickly, entering the open door of the munitions hold to the ladder down. I got nervous for a moment, than I heard him calling back to the mandolorian pilot, talking about molting and stellar seasons. What an odd being. Slimy thieving nerfhearder. Going back to work, not questioning the reasons tmythroll went down there. so wrapped up, figuratively and literally, in the wires of the control panel, i hadn't noticed mando sneaking past me, silent as death. I hadn't noticed him, that is, until I heard the thumping and crashing of combat and the pitiful yelps of the bounty rise to draw my attention toward the lower hold. Mythroll's shout cut short with an angry metallic hiss. The fear now taking a hold of my stomach, I pulled my hand out of the tangle to look nervously down the ladder, seeing the mando start his ascent. "carbon freezing." he said simply. I know his intention was to explain what had just happen in hopes to ease my worry, but no. it worried me more. Drawing my thought to the intense reality that I was willingly trapped on the ship of a proven dangerous bounty hunter. I felt rather idiotic in that moment, the crushing weight of the situation bringing me to a moral defeat. The mando slid by me, his body language more casual than it should have been seeing as how he had just half killed someone in the hold of his ship. He paused momentarily, looking over my work. nodding, He left in silence, returning to the cockpit.

   After a second, I gathered my thoughts and took a deep breath into my lungs. The reality of my life now was flipped upside down and tossed into a spinning vortex of crazy, but I know my strengths. I know myself and what i can handle. This? was obviously odd and scary and new, but the skills I cary can get me far. Exhaling, I focused my mind at the task at hand. Knowing my entire world was going to be changing from here on out was more calming than expected. The determination I felt towards my own new chapter of life soothed my aching back and fried nerves. This was going to be epic.

   A/N: i'm so glad to have finally finished this, holy hell ;-;    

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

Boggie cuddles featuring Luke just flopping onto Alex unprompted cause he feels left out

first of all i love u second of all this got away from me and turned into a luke character study what else is new. this is essentially a snippety sequel to maybe you find it stuck in your molars but a) you don’t need to read molars to understand this i don’t think and b) idk if it’s good enough to put on ao3 so have it here at least haha maybe i’ll change my mind.

as in molars: luke in this is trans, and ambiguously ace/aro spec. warning for some pretty mild transphobia.

--

The feeling of fighting with his mom makes the back of Luke’s neck prickle and his hands hurt. He feels so dumb about how angry he is, that even after the whole length of the bike ride to Bobby's, Luke still has the urge to stomp the ground and throw his helmet down when he stops. The only thing stopping him is his mom's words still ringing in his ears, that he's certainly acting like a teenaged boy, throwing a tantrum like that. He still drops his bike, almost pettily, to hear it clatter to the ground.

The rational part of his brain, however small and puny, knows she probably meant he was acting stupid and hot-headed. Which maybe he was. If she meant anything else, why would she have supported him so far? They were fighting about the band, like always, not his gender.

But the cold ice-pick of fear in his heart keeps going over "acting like a boy" over and over and over, acting like, as in not really—

He shakes it off and takes a few deep breaths. Puts his hands behind his head, elbows out wide, and closes his eyes. Just breathes. Knows he can't go into the studio with that kind of energy, or he'll psych Reggie out.

"Luke?"

It's Alex, at the door. He must have heard Luke drop his bike. The sight of him — fingers curled around the doorframe, messy hair in his eyes, eyebrows furrowed — immediately loosens whatever ugly tight feeling was building in Luke's chest. His denim jacket has slipped off one of his shoulders, and he looks so soft and warm. Like safety and home and acceptance. Like he's looked Luke's whole life.

"Hey, Lex," he says, and it comes out a little breathless, but he tries to play it off as just being from the bike ride. "Sorry I'm late."

"Are you..." Alex begins, but he must see Luke flinch, because he blatantly changes direction mid-sentence, "... gonna come in? Bobby got pizza."

Luke's stomach growls, absolutely without his permission, and Alex laughs, rolling his eyes and beckoning Luke to follow him, as if Luke wouldn’t follow Alex into the depths of hell without looking back.

The studio takes another layer of distress off Luke's shoulders. It's dimly lit at this time of day, just past sunset, and Bobby's guitar and Reggie's bass have been propped up on the ground rather than their stands, which means they were playing before Luke arrived.

Bobby and Reggie are curled up together on the couch, both munching away at slices of pizza, and Reggie's in Bobby's lap, which momentarily startles Luke. Not because they're cuddling (the most run-of-the-mill Sunset Curve activity possible) but because it reminds him that things have changed.

To be fair, he's doing a good job adjusting. Bobby and Reggie dating might have thrown him for a loop at first, but he's getting his head around it. He's at the point now where he can handle hearing Reggie talk about when he and Bobby went out last week, without being totally consumed by without us? Was it a date? and feeling nauseous. The way Bobby looks at Reggie no longer makes him feel squirmy, even if he does still find it confusing.

And they're two of his favourite people in the entire world. So if they're happy, he's happy. Seeing them cozied up and warm and eating actually makes Luke feel better than he did a moment ago.

Kinda makes him wish he was cozied up too, though. Just without all the other... stuff.

"Hey, Luke!" says Reggie cheerfully, his cheeks a little flushed and a smile pulling across his face, but his mouth is completely full of pizza so it sounds more like "Eeuke!"

Bobby's nose wrinkles in amusement, Alex's in mild disgust, but neither of them say anything about it, and Luke doesn't care because Reggie looks so relaxed and happy, simply says, "Hey, Reg. Bobby."

To his relief, neither of them ask why he's late. He can't tell if it's because they're being considerate, or if it's because they're totally absorbed by the pizza. He's happy with it either way. Bobby gives him a little nod, and then shuffles as Reggie tucks his head under Bobby's chin, Bobby's hand coming to rest on the sliver of Reggie's hip that's exposed by his t-shirt riding up.

Luke's chest hurts. Not in an actually bad way, like it used to before top surgery, when he'd worn his binder for too long. Just in a feelings way. Not that he knows what that feeling is, what he's meant to call it. It's not jealousy of Bobby and Reggie. He doesn't want to have whatever this different thing is that they have, can barely identify it between the lines when he looks for it.

He just wishes he was being held like that, and wishes he didn't constantly feel like he has to prove himself to people all the time, and wishes he could feel included, somehow, without interrupting them.

When Alex slumps back into his own seat on the couch, Luke can't stop himself. Unceremoniously, he flops across Alex's lap, too, and reaches for a slice of pizza before Alex can properly finish scoffing, Alex’s arms coming around his waist by instinct to stop him overbalancing and toppling to the floor.

"What the — dude, get off me!" Alex insists, but his voice has none of the sharp edge that it would if he actually meant it, if this was one of those times where Alex needed not to be touched. Luke grabs a piece of pizza in each hand and shimmies his way back up to seated, nose inches from Alex’s. Offers him the other piece with a bright grin.

This feels better. Alex grumbles, but takes a bite out of the pizza Luke held in front of his face, and the last of Luke’s bad feelings melt off him. Bobby and Alex start chatting about something — gig planning stuff, or a phone call Bobby had with some guy his brother knows who might be able to do some professional-looking photos for them on the cheap.

Alex is as warm and cuddly as he looked, and Luke rests his cheek on Alex’s shoulder to eat, still feeding Alex periodically with his other hand so that Alex doesn’t have to move more than necessary, and zones out of their conversation. He’s eating, and he’s getting cuddled, and he’s with his favourite people.

When they finish their food, they’ll probably have a more chill jam session than normal, full stomachs so no jumping around. Maybe he can run through his latest new draft with them. Get Alex to come up with a rhythm. See Reggie’s eyes light up as he plucks the bassline for the first time. Have Bobby try a few different harmonies, just to see what works.

Alex’s hand runs up and down Luke’s back once, smooth and solid, and Luke can’t help but melt into him, couldn’t do anything else if he tried. His ankle bumps Reggie’s and Reggie meets his eyes, grins just slightly, bumps back so their feet stay pressed together, Luke’s toes tucking under Bobby’s thigh. Bobby doesn’t even complain. Luke nudges his nose against Alex’s throat and mutters, “Love you guys,” and they all say it back without a single pause, without the slightest hesitation in the world.

--

now on ao3 as well

jatp taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed): @queenmolina @nickalicious @bi-reginald @malecacidd @burntchromas @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @cinnamonstickrayofsunlight

[jammatown919]

Astraphobia

I haven’t actually gotten as far as this point in my rewatch yet so I apologize for any inconsistencies! Also fair warning, this fic is entirely me projecting my astraphobia and paranoia revolving around storms onto Pidge. 

Time was incredibly strange in the Galaxy Garrison's infirmary. Rationally, Lance knew he'd only been there for about a week, but he felt as if he'd been laying in bed for months.

It hadn't been quite so bad at first. He'd been so exhausted that he'd had no trouble sleeping the first few days away, but now that he was feeling more like himself, he was starting to become restless. He thought that was why he was so excited to hear the familiar sound of rain beating against his window.

It had been a long time since his last good storm, and even longer since he'd been able to gather at a window with his siblings and watch the rain fall. His siblings weren't with him tonight, and wouldn't be until morning, but the other Paladins were right in the same hall. Hopefully at least one of them would be up for watching the rain with him.

He knew immediately who he wanted to try first. Months ago, at the beginning of their relationship, Lance had promised Pidge that he'd take her on a date as soon as they got home, and while this wasn't exactly what they'd had in mind, he thought it was a decent alternative while they were stuck in the infirmary.

Thunder crashed overhead as Lance hauled himself out of bed, taking a moment to steady his wobbling legs. Once he was sure he wasn't going to fall, he crossed the room and changed into a more comfortable outfit his mother had brought for him earlier in the week, and then he was off.

He remembered being told on his first day here that Pidge's room was directly to the left of his, so that was where he went. He smiled as he came to her door, only just realizing how much he'd missed her this past week. It was longest they'd been apart in a long time.

"Oh, Pidge," he called in a soft, sing-song voice, knocking gently on her door. "Your Lance is here."

No response. She must have still been asleep.

Lance reached for the door handle and found it unlocked, so he pushed the door open and stepped into the room. Just as he entered, lightning struck somewhere outside, illuminating the room long enough for him to realize that Pidge wasn't in bed.

"Pidge?" he called again, fumbling for the light switch. For a moment, he thought he could hear a faint whimper, barely audible through the rumbling the thunder.

Finally, his hand caught the light switch and he could see again. It was then that he noticed a small form huddled in the space underneath the bed.

"Pidge!" He was at her side in an instant, dropping down to study her as he struggled to reach her in the tight confines of the space.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, in pain or fear he didn't know, and her hands pressed firmly to her ears. Without thinking, placed a hand on her arm, only to have it quickly and harshly slapped away. Only then did she open her eyes and look at him, relaxing slightly as she realized who it was.

"Lance?" she asked unsteadily, straightening as much as the bed above her would allow.

"I'm here," he told her softly. "What's wrong? Why are you under the bed?"

Pidge looked away as if embarrassed, and was ultimately saved from having to answer by another loud crash of thunder. She flinched hard and her hands flew back to her ears. Oh, Lance realized at last, she's afraid of the storm.

"Go away!" Pidge snapped, completely unprompted. In a smaller voice, she added, "I don't want you to see me like this."

"Pigeon," Lance crooned, half-expecting her to snap at him again for the nickname. She didn't. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. So what if you're scared of thunderstorms? Everyone's scared of something."

"But it's completely irrational." Pidge sounded close to tears as she removed her hands from her head, hovering them close to her ears in case the need arose to cover them again. "I know it can't hurt me, but I'm still hiding under the bed like a little kid."

"Doesn't matter how irrational it is," Lance insisted. "You're allowed to be scared. Although, I'm still not sure why you're under the bed. You could have come to me."

"I was actually going to go to Green," Pidge admitted. "I figured I wouldn't be able to hear as much in the hangar. Plus, she always makes me feel safe."

"So why didn't you?"

"I have this... paranoid delusion, I guess would be the name for it," she sighed. "About the ceiling caving in. The storm got bad really fast and I just had to hide."

"Where'd you get that idea?" Lance asked. She seemed a bit calmer now, so he figured that talking was helping her keep her mind off the sounds outside.

"Started when I was eight," she began, lowering her arms to wrap them around her knees. "There was a storm one night, and I woke up to water dripping on my face. I was terrified because I thought that meant the ceiling was breaking and about to collapse on me, and I guess I just never let it go."

"So you feel safer under the bed?"

"A little." Pidge flinched as the sound of raindrops beating against the window suddenly increased. "You don't... have to stay."

"Are you kidding?" Lance asked, a little indignantly. "I'm not leaving you like this. Besides, I came here to see if you wanted to watch the storm together."

"I don't think I'll be able to do much watching."

"That's alright." He settled into a more comfortable position on the floor. "We can stay right here, if that's what feels safest for you."

Pidge's expression softened, a bit of the tension disappearing from her tight shoulders.

"What'd I ever do to deserve a boyfriend like you?" she asked fondly.

"I am pretty great, aren't I?" Lance replied with a small burst of pride. She laughed and elbowed his ribs.

"I guess you're alright," she teased. "Just don't let it go to your head."

"Aw, c'mon," he insisted, grinning brightly. "You know you love me."

"Yeah," she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. He put an arm around her in return. "I do."

----

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[usermoreid]

I think Reid just naturally is the person who gets in charge of the kids when they all get together (mostly because they act like they'll die of malnutrition if Spencer isn't in their vicinity at any time) and he doesn't mind in the slightest he unironically thinks they're really cool and likes to hang out with them and since they act like the best version of themselves around him (completely unprompted they just seem to wordlessly agree that being a dick to Spencer isn't really fun I mean look at him he's already having a hard time we're brats but we have a conscience) and once or twice someone mentioned like 'oh I feel bad that you're usually with them when we get together and don't really stay with us and chat n get stuck with babysit duty' and Spencer is like 🧐🧐 'babysit duty! Babysit duty excuse you those kids are my friends they rock harder than you could ever roll and LET IT BE KNOWN I would much rather be the cool uncle than the poor sober dude at a table full of adults.'

yes!!!!! he insists that it's not babysitting when you genuinely enjoy hanging out with them, and he's right. they need someone to watch the kids and he's more than willing, so he always offers. it doesn't hurt that he's also just super good with them. he pretty much treats them how he wishes somebody would've treated him as a kid, and they love him for it.