#Dance little one... I see you... Percussion

[yemme]

Children that have better musicality than those with record deals...

[cece693]

Batman's Code of Ethics

pairing: bruce wayne x gender neutral reader tags: batman's code of ethics, sad ending for the batman, divorce, relationship conflict, vengeance

You first met Bruce Wayne at a fundraiser in downtown Gotham—one of those glamorous events where champagne sparkled and conversations danced on the knife’s edge of philanthropy and pretense. But it was the little moments that made you fall in love with him: how he paused to listen intently when you spoke, the gentle way he rested his hand against yours, the subtle but steadfast warmth in his gaze.

That warmth was what drew you in. It was what bound the two of you together in a promise—one that, in time, grew to include your son, Jason Todd. From the outside, you were Gotham’s picture-perfect family. But beneath the veneer of limousines and charity balls was the knowledge that every night Bruce put on the cowl, he wrestled with the darkness that consumed his city. It didn't bother you in the beginning—you knew Batman and Bruce were one; you couldn't ask him to leave the suit behind in favor for your family. But when that call came through—saying that Jason had gone missing, changed everything

Your heart has never felt heavier, not in the far corners of childhood loneliness nor in the quiet heartbreak of the many nights Bruce spent alone on the streets. You never knew grief could taste this bitter—tainted by the helpless anger now threading through your every breath. The walls of Wayne Manor seem to loom around you, suffocating and full of shadows. The place once felt like home; now feels like a mausoleum.

Outside, rain spatters the windows, each drop a dull percussion to the cacophony in your head. You’re standing near the fireplace, hands balled into fists, knuckles white with tension. Across the room, Bruce stares at you. His posture is rigid, arms stiff at his sides. The family painting you had commissioned is hung on the far wall, and seeing it cause fresh tears to fall. Jason, your son—dead.

“I can’t believe this, Bruce,” you say, voice shaking with rage. “He was our son. Our boy. And you’re telling me there’s nothing you can do?”

He closes his eyes briefly, as though trying to steady himself. “You know I want justice,” he says, voice low and rough. “But I have—Batman has—rules.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek so hard you taste blood. That single phrase, Batman has rules, ignites something in you, the memory of your son’s laughter mixing with the image of his lifeless body. “Do you think I care about Batman’s rules right now?” The words rip from your throat. “Don’t you dare throw your precious code at me! This isn’t about your crusade—this is about avenging the murder of our child.”

Bruce’s jaw tightens. His hands clench, the only outward sign he’s losing his carefully placed composure. “Gotham can’t fall into anarchy. I made a vow never to cross that line—”

“I can’t believe you’re more concerned about crossing lines than ending the one monster who took him from us!” you shout, voice echoing in the large room. “That clown…that monster is roaming free—he’ll do it again, Bruce. He will. And you won’t do anything?”

Lightning flashes outside, illuminating the tension. The fireplace flickers, and for an instant, you see every etched line on Bruce’s face—the strain, the sorrow, and the anger. He steps closer, each footfall echoing in the hush.

“You think I’m not doing anything?” he hisses, voice tremoring with a swirl of agony and indignation. “Every night, I go out there, I chase him, I stop him from harming someone else. But I don’t kill. Because if I do it once—just once—there’s no going back. The city will have lost its symbol of hope. I will have lost myself.”

You hurl the words at him, your voice trembling, “Symbols don’t matter more than life! More than Jason’s life! Don’t you want the Joker to suffer? Don’t you want to see him punished for what he did?”

“He’ll be punished by the law,” Bruce insists, though the confidence he’s trying to project is thin. “He’s going to Arkham—”

“Arkham?” you bark a laugh that feels like it tears you open from the inside. “He’ll escape again. He always does. You know it. I know it. And the cycle goes on, more people die, more children are orphaned, more families are broken. How many more Jasons? How many more nights do we have to grieve?”

He breathes hard through his nose, turning away as if to gather the scattered fragments of composure. “It’s not that simple—”

“Maybe it is that simple,” you say quietly, your initial anger collapsing into sorrow. “Maybe I just have to accept that what you wear at night means more to you than the life we built…than the son we raised together.”

You see the pain slice through him like a physical wound. He’s trembling, fists in tight knots at his sides, face set in grim lines. “Don’t do that,” he warns in a near whisper. “Don’t question how much I loved him. Don’t say this is about not caring. God, you know I cared. I love him. But I refuse to become the very thing I despise.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” you ask, voice breaking. “Just stand by and let the system fail us again? Let the Joker walk free in six months, only to put someone else in a grave? I…I can’t do this. I can’t keep standing by.”

He takes a step closer, the space between you so thick with tension it’s almost tangible. Then he hesitates, gaze flicking over your features, and you see it clearly—a snap of anger flaring in him.

“You don’t understand me,” he spits in frustration. “You never did. You fell in love with the man behind the mask, but you never understood why the mask exists in the first place.” His voice is a tremulous roar in the hush. “You claim to know me, to love me, but you’d see me become a murderer?”

Every word that leaves his mouth strikes with precision, forcing your eyes to sting with tears you fight to keep at bay. “I’m not asking you to become anything,” you manage, voice raw. “I’m asking you to do what any father—any husband—would do. I’m asking you to show the Joker that he can’t take everything we have without real consequences.”

Your pleas dangle in the silence. You wait, though your heart already feels like it’s shattering. Bruce’s lips part, but no words come. You see the torment running through his mind, the moral lines he’s drawn over and over again since he first became the Batman. And you see the part of him that wants to agree with you, that wants to break the Joker and end the nightmare. But that war rages behind his eyes, and you realize he will not cross that line, no matter how deep the wound.

The hush that ensues is deafening. Finally, Bruce tears his gaze from yours. In that final, wordless moment, you understand each other too well. His morality—his vow—stands as an unbreakable wall between you, between him and vengeance, between your love and the path that would bring you both finality.

You brush past him, feeling the heat radiate off his body even as the chill of his rigid stance sets in. The only sound is your ragged breathing and the patter of the rain outside.

Days turn into weeks, and you sleep in separate bedrooms. Though you both wander the Manor’s halls like ghosts, you barely speak. And when you do, conversations are clipped and tinged with bitterness. Alfred’s gentle attempts at bridging the gap only highlight the chasm.

Gotham’s nights still see Batman swooping through the city, chasing down criminals, returning them to Arkham. It’s all the same routine that took your son away, all the same cycle that left Jason’s place at the dinner table forever empty.

The day of Jason’s funeral arrives. You stand in front of his headstone—Jason Todd Wayne, beloved son. Bruce stands next to you, silent as a statue. The city’s skyline is stark behind you both. The weight of finality sinks in: he is truly gone. And the man you love, whose eyes reflect unspeakable pain, remains as resolute as ever in the vow that distances him from you.

In that moment, sorrow merges with conviction; you realize you can’t be with him like this. You can’t reconcile yourself to it. You can’t keep watching him throw criminals back into Arkham only for them to escape. You can’t watch him refuse the final step, the step you desperately believe in, to save another family from this torment.

You quietly take off the ring Bruce gave you—polished titanium, etched with your initials. You slip it into his hand, fingers closing over his palm, and brush away the tears that fall freely now.

“Bruce,” you whisper, voice thick with grief, “I can’t stand at your side after this. What you’re doing, how you’re not ending it. Maybe it’s noble. Maybe it makes you a hero. But I can’t live with it. Not after Jason.”

He looks at the ring, the bright metal in his gloved hand. He doesn’t speak, his throat too tight with emotion. You think for a moment he’ll protest—that he’ll reach for you, try to fix what’s broken—but he doesn’t. Perhaps he knows, deep inside, that his unyielding lines will never coincide with yours now.

Months later, in a quiet lawyer's office, the finalization of your divorce is as cold and pragmatic as signing any legal form. The media never gets wind of it—the Wayne name shields such intimate heartbreak behind well-guarded gates. You walk away from the building's room with finality. Nothing left to say.

You remember Bruce once whispering, We do what we must for Gotham, for justice. But for you, the definition of justice had changed irrevocably the day you lost Jason. There is no bridging the distance between your brand of justice and Batman’s unwavering line.

In the hush of your new apartment, boxes half-unpacked, you find a small photo of you, Bruce, and Jason on a rare sunny day by the Manor gardens. Jason’s grin is broad, unstoppable—the future once felt so boundless. You press the photo to your chest, letting the wave of grief pass over you like a slow tide, your tears falling onto a cardboard box top.

[noproofread]

More (NSFW)

god I love buggy. shout out to this one britney spears song for the inspo fr

Buggy x Fem!Reader

mentions of alcohol. praise, unprotected sex, dominant Buggy, reader wants buggy's attention and praise, with a little liquid courage anything is possible.

masterlist here

word count: 1,137

Buggy was no stranger to being the center of attention. Even during celebrations amongst the crew, he always found a way to be in the spotlight. You were the opposite, often looking for isolated corners to hide away from the chaos of your drunk crewmates. But you wanted his attention. You wanted him to see you. To acknowledge the way he made your entire body warm up. To notice how badly you wanted his praise, his approval. Amidst the loud music, the clinking of glasses full of liquor, and the laughter amongst the crew, you saw him in the middle of the dance floor. He was glowing. Captain Buggy, in his element. In a sudden impulsive moment, you downed an abandoned drink sitting on the table in front of you. The bittersweet liquid coated your tongue and burned your throat as it went down. It was strong, you felt it go to your head instantly. You paid it no mind as you found your way to more liquor. Drinking as much as you could before you forgot about why exactly you were avoiding the crowd.

Feeling woozy and warm, you stumbled your way to Buggy. Liquid courage guiding you towards the object of your desires. You tapped him on his shoulder, making him turn around to face you. “Do you wanna dance?” There was a slight slur in your words. He chuckled before taking your hand and shooting a wink to the band, queuing them to play a different song. The music filled the room, you felt every beat of percussion throughout your body as you danced with your captain. This newfound confidence allowed you to press up against him, feeling the warmth of his body radiating through his clothes. “I’ve never seen you dance before. What gives?” He asked, speaking close to your ear so you could hear him over the loud music. “Just want to have some fun with you.” You responded flirtatiously. You couldn’t believe the words could fall out of your lips so effortlessly. “Oh? How much fun?” He flirted back.

You felt your heart speed up. Completely forgetting that the rest of the crew could see you. It was just you and Buggy. The closeness you felt to your captain was intoxicating. The feeling of his hands on your lower back as you danced made you feel as if you were on fire. You wanted to feel him. You wanted more. As the song came to an end, you felt his grip loosen. You clung onto him, leaning towards his ear and whispering “I want more.”

The clown smirked, taking your hand and leading you away from everyone.

Hearing loud Oooooh's coming from your crewmates slowly fade into the background as the party continued behind you. You were in a dark hallway, Buggy in front of you. He walked until he had ensured complete isolation from anyone. Without warning, he pushed you up against the wall, pinning your hands above your head. “Is this what you had in mind?” He smiled as he began kissing your neck. You gasped, writhing under him. His stubble was rough against your skin but his lips were soft. He nipped gently at your skin, earning another gasp from you. He chuckled. “Feel good?” You could only moan in response. Leaving one hand restraining you, he allowed his other hand to roam your body. Occasionally letting his gloved fingers peek under your clothes to touch your skin. As he touched you, he remained mere centimeters away from your face. You felt his breath on your lips. Buggy looked into your eyes, beckoning you to beg for him. “Please kiss me,” You said breathlessly. “Only if you promise to be good for me.” He teased you, licking your bottom lip lightly as he awaited your response. “I’ll be so good, Buggy. Please.” You pleaded. You felt helpless in front of him. You felt his lips on yours. His breath was just as heavy as yours. You kissed him desperately, pressing your body against his as you felt your own arousal pool at the bottom of your stomach. His hands were under your top, yet still gloved you yearned to feel his skin on yours.

Buggy parted your legs with his knee, you felt his erection brush against your thigh. He groaned softly. “What if I fuck you right here in the hall?” He whispered. “Would you be good for me and keep quiet? Wouldn’t want anyone to see you like this.” You looked into his eyes, nodding desperately. “I’ll be quiet. I’ll be so quiet.” He smiled. “That’s what I like to hear. Good girl.” He said before reaching under your skirt, touching you over your panties. You bit your lip to hold back a moan. Buggy looked into your eyes, a mix of lust and mischief in his eyes. “You’re so wet for me.” He commented under his breath before unzipping his pants to pull out his hard, throbbing dick. A bead of precum leaking from the tip.

You held your breath in anticipation. Your head spinning from the alcohol and lust. You felt him use his tip to push your panties to the side, his hot erection rubbing your slickened lips. You buried your head in the crook of his neck to keep from mewling. Buggy hissed as he slowly entered you. Agonizingly slow. He let go of your hands so he could hoist you up, allowing him to find the most comfortable position to fully move into you. You rested your arms around his shoulders and felt him move deeper inside you, stretching you to accommodate him. He shushed you as you bit your arm, muffling a loud moan. “You feel so good” He groaned in your ear.

His thrusts picked up the pace, jackhammering into you sloppily. You placed your hand over your mouth, holding on to Buggy. Feeling him hit the spot consistently. Soft and gentle moans fell from your lips as you tried to keep your voice down. You felt yourself reaching your climax, biting Buggy’s shoulder to keep you from screaming out his name. “That’s it” He whispered. Those words launched you over the edge, feeling your walls tightening around him as you came. Buggy groaned in pleasure, feeling you squeeze down on him. He quickly pulled out of you, painting your thigh with his cum. You collapsed onto him, your knees weak. He caught you, trying to catch his breath.

He laughed softly, placing you down on the floor before fixing himself up and sitting next to you. Buggy took off one of his gloves and used it to clean up his mess from your thigh. You looked at him and chuckled. “You had enough fun?” He teased. You bit your lip playfully before responding.

“Could always have more.”

[st4rbe0m]

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ KISS THE GIRL - PSH

🫧 now playing - kiss the girl from disney’s The Little Mermaid 🫧 contents - the little mermaid au, no gendered implications but the word 'maiden' is used, implied kissing 🫧 wc - 0.9K 🫧 a/n - i hope this compensates for the lack of body search updates recently :( i need to structure that story out a bit more, so it'll be a while. might make a mini series out of this however teehee >.<

masterlist

Sha-la-la-la-la-la, My oh my Look like the boy too shy Ain't gonna kiss the girl

The blue luminescence of the algae around them, surrounding the boat in a surreal bubble, made the breath in Sunghoon’s throat hitch in awe. You were right in front of him, hands on the pair of paddles opposite to his own, making no move of their own, as your eyes blown wide in awe of scenery peered around. The way the drooping willow branches of the cove swayed in an almost rhythm like manner, creating a music of its own. The fish seemed almost animated as they playfully swam along the quivering currents of the water, the boat stalled and rocking almost like a crib, gently. The reeds whistled, adding the percussion to the music of the ocean, while the crabs and the seagulls perched along the rocks of the shallow alcove seemed to scuttle along, adding a tapping beat to the environment. Almost like this endeavor was planned. Almost. 

Sunghoon doesn’t really register how quickly this stranger, whom he’d found on the beach with no voice of your own, and almost seemingly no knowledge of his importance or his duties, had easily slid into his life, like the puzzle piece he’d been missing ever since he went aboard his ship on his birthday. The day he was knocked off the very vessel, and only had an angelic voice and a fleeting memory saving him from being pulled under by the unforgiving waves of the sea. 

The boat was swaying gently in the water as you both rocked along with it, eyes swallowing in all the beauty of the escape Sunghoon had found during his lonesome adventures to escape from princely duties. A hidden cave, with a shallow pool of water and a welcoming alcove hiding the both of you away from prying eyes. After all, the rumors and gossip about town would multiply with a frenzy, if any citizen were to come across the adoration on the face of their beloved prince, as he gazed upon this strange maiden. The mood around them was so tender, so fragile and so, so beautiful. Yet to Sunghoon, the only beauty he could focus on was the one right in front of him, only on the way your head was tilted up and looking around, like you were seeing everything that existed above the land for the first time ever in your life. The way your lips parted softly and exhaled a soft sigh of satisfaction, like a thirst to see everything was being quenched slowly. And how soft your lips looked, glowing under the moonlight that entered through the cracks above. The plump curve of your cupid’s bow, and the dip of white where your teeth bit into your lower lip in fascination.

If the ambience wasn’t already perfect, the buzzing of the fireflies, that illuminated the air around you both with their bright, yellow glow just made your heart leap in joy, and the smile that grew on your face made Sunghoon’s heart flip in his own chest, like the marine creatures surrounding you both, almost like they’d choreographed their own dance to celebrate the union of you both. The frogs that sat with their little webbed legs stuck on to the paddles of your boat, and the wonderful, colorful fish, creating a haze of flurried colors under the dark water. It was all absolutely delightful, as you both chuckled at the behavior of all the animals around you. One of the frogs on the paddle decided to leap in a move of its own, elegantly diving into the water with a plop. But as graceful as the move was, it ended up with a small splash of water ungracefully landing on Sunghoon’s cheek, which made you giggle in amusement. Bringing the fabric of your sleeve to your palm and shifting close to wipe the cold water off his face, your eyes met the warmth in his brown ones, making you fall harder for the enigmatic and handsome prince. The human you’d found yourself to be so captivated by. Prince Park Sunghoon, royal heir to the throne of the island country, Telmarina. 

Sunghoon’s heartbeat was thundering in his ears due to the proximity between the two of you, and if he didn’t already feel that magnetic pull that was urging him to push his lips onto yours, the urge just got stronger as he looked at all your features with such intensity, as to almost memorize them. You could feel his shortening breath on your face now, which just created a chain reaction to your own flusteredness. His eyes, which were settled on yours, hesitatingly shifted, and then dipped to your lips. And it seemed that you did too, as the pink tinge of his lips seemed to call you like a siren. Leaning in slowly, almost gravely, both of you inhaled as your lips almost touched to fulfill what you both had been yearning for this entire time.

That was until the solid wooden flooring of the boat under both of you seemed to disappear, leaving you both plunging into the cold water of the lagoon, icing the blood in your veins and leaving you both in a shocked state, floating in the water. Laughing at the state of both of you, the kiss that almost happened seemed to slowly leave both of your minds, and Sunghoon swore that if you listened close enough, you could hear some sort of disappointed groan coming from the rock where the crab and seagull sat. And holding out his hand for you to take as you both swam up to land, you both almost ignored the dark slithering eels that swam away silently from the scene, ready to report to their masters of the success of their devious plans.

[forlorn-crows]

𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑶𝒖𝒕 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑫𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒌

Rating: Mature (implied sexual content)

Relationship(s): Aether/Rain

Tags: daddy kink, quintosis (quintessence as hypnosis), post-hypnotic trigger/suggestion, implied transmasculine rain, mildly dubious consent & morality, intox kink, alcohol. let aether be SLEAZY let him be NASTY. we love a wine drunk lightweight rain.

Words: 2189

Guppy. The quint ghoul watches the petname hit Rain’s brain and settle there, making his hips falter in their swaying. He makes an unconscious noise, momentarily stupored. But the haze is gone the next time he blinks, replaced with the almost imperceptible dilation of his pupils. A few sparkles of amethyst blend into his normal cerulean irises, indicative of Aether’s little trick he’s just begun to play. It’s simple, really. A little post-hypnotic suggestion, if you will. “That’s a new one; have you called me that before?” Rain giggles a little and takes another sip of his wine. Oh, has he.

Notes: for my bestie @divine-misfortune; happy birthday, void! he requested "I am placing an order fr Aeth and his guppy,,,,As for what theyre doin? Good question-idk maybe gettin him cute n dumb in public or smthn so he needs his daddy" and thus, this fic was born

Read the rest under the cut, or on AO3!

The abbey grounds are alive with celebration; alight with lanterns, string lights, and a great bonfire down the hill; the smell of stew, mulled wine, and crisp apple mixes with the fresh promise of autumn that cools the breeze. Many libations are passed amongst the scattered groups of ghouls and siblings, as well as shared laughs and cozy conversation. It’s a nice night for festivities, and it’s only bound to get rowdier as the evening progresses. 

Rain, of course, is no stranger to a good time. A glass of cranberry wine downed already with another one halfway drunk in his hand, he sways to Swiss and Mountain’s guitar-percussion duo they’ve set up just beyond the bonfire. The multi ghoul strums an unnamed melody while Mountain accompanies with a rhythm on an old floor tom. Easy-going and no particular songs in mind. A few others bustle around him—Cumulus spins Aurora around to her giggling delight, a group of siblings dance amongst their little circle, and Aeon is very obviously wiggling his butt for Swiss’ benefit. 

Not that Rain isn’t doing something similar. Aether’s quite enjoying watching the water ghoul sway his hips and smile coyly over his shoulder as Mountain blows him a kiss. He’s equally as cute in the outfit said drummer most likely picked out for him: a charcoal gray thermal underneath a cream colored blouse, chocolate brown joggers that hover above his leather chelsea boots and show off black wool socks, all topped off with a modest gold ring on his wine-glass-wielding hand. In his hair, bright magenta aster blooms are woven alongside yellow heliopsis flowers in the waterfall braids looping under his horns. 

A right autumn beauty that has Aether itching to touch, to charm.

“Hi, cutie,” he says appreciatively, slipping his hands around Rain’s waist after sauntering up behind him. He pecks the water ghoul on the cheek.

Rain hums and presses his chilled lips to Aether’s mouth. Cinnamon sugar and berry gracing the tip of his tongue. “Hi yourself,” he grins. 

The quint ghoul falls in time with Rain’s hip sways, pressing himself to his back. “And what number drink are we on, love?” he asks, like he doesn’t already know the answer.

“Excuse me, this is only glass number two, thank you very much,” Rain says indignantly. He turns up his nose playfully and flips his hair into Aether’s face, who simply chuckles and blows the strands away.

“Gotta pace yourself; don’t want to see this pretty face passed out in the lawn now, do we?”

Rain rolls his eyes. “I don’t see you enjoying the fruits of Mountain’s berry picking labor.” He throws another coquette look at the earth ghoul, playing it up as a compliment. 

Aether hums. “Open up and let me really taste, then,” he lilts, nipping at Rain’s jaw with a growl. 

“Ugh,” he laughs through a groan. In trying to dodge Aether’s attack, the red wine sloshes over the rim of his glass and soaks into the cuff of his thermal. “Aetherrr,” he complains, picking at the sleeve. 

Aether tuts. “It’s only a little—it’ll dry, guppy.”

Guppy. The quint ghoul watches the petname hit Rain’s brain and settle there, making his hips falter in their swaying. He makes an unconscious noise, momentarily stupored. But the haze is gone the next time he blinks, replaced with the almost imperceptible dilation of his pupils. A few sparkles of amethyst blend into his normal cerulean irises, indicative of Aether’s little trick he’s just begun to play.

It’s simple, really. A little post-hypnotic suggestion, if you will. 

“That’s a new one; have you called me that before?” Rain giggles a little and takes another sip of his wine. 

Oh, has he. He plays innocent. “What, ‘guppy’?” 

Rain giggles again, almost automatic. “Uh huh. Kinda like it.” Aether can tell he doesn’t know why he says so. It’s part of the design, of course, that he doesn’t catch on to what the nickname does to him. How each utterance weaves a little more magick into his mind, dropping him that much further. Rain hums, leaning into Aether more heavily than before. 

“Thought you might,” he rumbles, giving him a peck on the cheek. He catches Mountain’s eye over the water ghoul’s shoulder, his expression now twisted with a mix of amusement, suspicion, and maybe a little bit of jealousy. Aether throws him a wink, and the earth ghoul rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a smirk.

He taps the rim of Rain’s wine glass. “Is my pretty ghoul gonna pace himself properly, or will I have to keep an eye on you, mister?”

“Mmm, you can keep an eye on me all you want.” Rain wiggles his ass against his crotch suggestively. 

Aether chuckles and gives his waist a squeeze. “Watch it, now; you get into too much trouble and I’ll have to whisk you away from all the fun, guppy.”

Rain shakes his head exaggeratedly, whining in disagreement. Stumbling a little on his next hip swivel. “Nooo, let me have fuuun,” he protests. “I’ll be gooood. Promise.” He offers up the pinky on his free hand. The hammered gold band on his middle finger flashes with the firelight across the field. 

Aether links his pinky with his own. “I’ll be watching,” he warns playfully, nipping at his jaw again. Rain doesn’t swat him away this time. The quint ghoul offers a pat on the ass before he walks away, busying himself with hor devours and fish stew.

It’s a few hours later before they cross paths again, Rain noticeably tipsier and loose-limbed as he converses with Dew at the bonfire. If Aether’s observations were correct, the glass of dark, blackberry wine in his hand should be his fourth drink now. He’d be inebriated without the magick, lightweight as water ghouls typically are, but the touch of quintessence makes him needier, more tactile than he otherwise would be. It’s a side effect that makes itself known quite obviously: kissing Mountain full on the mouth after his and Swiss’ set was finished, resting his head on Sunshine’s shoulder as she fed him prosciutto and cheese cubes from her snack plate, holding a sister’s hand as he walked with her through the small rose garden that surrounds the outside walls of the bathhouse. 

Like this, he’s seductive and ripe for the taking. Aether’s drawn back to him like a magnet.

“ . . . wanna go someplace on the coast,” Rain is saying as he approaches the pair. “When it’s warm.” Rain pouts.

Dew makes a face. “Ugh, I don’t know if I can take more outside shows; too fuckin’ hot.”

“Y’re ‘fuckin’ hot,’” the water ghoul smirks, poking at Dew’s leg with his boot. 

Dew just rolls his eyes fondly. “And you’re drunk, starfish.”

“Nuh uh—”

“Think Dew’s right, guppy,” Aether interjects, placing his hands on Rain’s shoulders. “Hm?” Rain raises a finger above his head, waggling it in front of Aether’s chest to emphasize his nuh uh. Aether can feel the magick swirl that much deeper under his fingers, making Rain hiccup and drop his head back against the quint’s body.

Beside them, Dew crosses his arms and laughs knowingly. “Guppy, huh?” He raises an eyebrow and bites the inside of his cheek to stop his mouth from quirking up further. Mentally, Aether shrugs. So a few of them know of his tricks—sue him. They’ve enjoyed the effects of Rain’s (and their own) nickname before, so, really, they have no place to judge.

“‘s cute,” Rain slurs, smiling up at Aether. “Gu-ppy. Guuuuuppy.”

“Why don’t ya say it a few more times?” Dew snorts, turning to busy himself with the fire and leaving Aether to his sleazy antics. Luckily, Ifrit’s there to hold his attention. The quint ghoul slips around and takes the free spot on Rain’s left. He’s immediately greeted with a lapful of clumsy water ghoul, who chooses to climb on top of him instead of stay in his own seat. 

“Hi, love,” Aether says warmly, wrapping his arms around him. Deftly, he plucks the wine glass from Rain’s hand and places it on the stump beside them. “You enjoying yourself?”

“More now tha’ y’re here,” he smiles, all drunk and dopey. He loops his arms around Aether’s neck and hums. Adjusts himself more than comfortably on his lap, legs hanging over his hips and bellies pressed together. 

“I’m glad, my pretty guppy,” Aether rumbles. Rain makes a noise at the back of his throat, quick and breathy. Aether watches his eyelids flutter for the first time since the night began, like a moth's wings as they carry the flying creature closer to the flames. He tuts and brushes his thumb over the water ghoul’s cheek, who leans into the touch with a needy purr. 

“Y’ feel nice,” he sighs dreamily. 

“Not getting tired?” he asks, a self-satisfied smile crossing his face as Rain fights to blink away the haze.

He shakes his head, sticking out his bottom lip and wriggling closer. Rolling his hips not-so-subtly against Aether’s crotch. “Uh-uh.” 

“No? Looks like that wine is getting to you, love,” he teases. 

“Aetherrrrrr,” Rain wines. He wiggles again, and Aether can feel the damp heat starting to radiate off of him. Teetering perfectly between giggly, aroused, and falling asleep standing up. “Let me have fuuun,” he echoes himself from earlier.

“Out here, in front of everyone?” Rain groans and sticks his face into the crook of Aether’s neck. He chuckles to himself and wraps those big arms tight around his lithe body. One more, and he’ll be just where he wants him. He puts his mouth to Rain’s ear and whispers: “No—don’t want you to get sloppy, guppy; why don’t we tuck in for the night? You and me, what do you say?”

It’s like a weight drops on his body, Rain going so lax against him until his arms slip off Aether’s shoulders, head only staying up because his chin keeps it hanging off of Aether’s chest. He’s not dropped all the way, not just yet, but his face pulls into an expression of bliss and his eyes slip all the way closed this time. Purrs increasing in intensity as he helplessly melts into Aether’s control. 

And then he says something Aether wasn’t entirely prepared for; something that makes his breath catch in his throat and his pants get tight.

Rain sighs happily, stupidly, eyes reopening to amethyst-tinged slits as he gazes up at the quint ghoul. He smiles, licking his lips like a dog settling down for a nap. “Okay, daddy.”

Fuck. Aether bites back a groan. “Yeah, baby?” he says softly. “You wanna cozy up with Daddy?”

“Mm-hm,” he nods. 

Aether scoops him up immediately. He can feel Mountain’s jealous stare against his back as he carries Rain back to the abbey, no doubt thwarting the earth ghoul’s plan to strip Rain of the outfit he picked out for him and take him slow and sweet. The quint ghoul flicks his tail behind him: next time, big guy. 

Rain makes a noise of protest as he’s eventually plopped onto Aether’s bed, nearly falling over as he makes grabby hands towards the bigger ghoul.

“Just closing the door, sweet boy,” Aether assures. 

When he turns back, there’s a blush on Rain’s cheeks, rosied from the cool air. He looks back at Aether with big eyes, whining as he starts to paw at his own clothes. Needy and eager. A picture of casual sin, the braids around his horns have gone loose from the night’s festivities, flowers cascading down his curls like fallen leaves that get stuck in branches on their descent to the ground. The merriment which disheveled his pristine look has also sullied his blouse, now stained crimson in a few rogue spots from the wine. And as Rain shifts and spreads his legs a little, Aether catches sight of the tiny damp patch in the crotch of his pants, his sudden arousal obvious and impossible to hide. 

It’s enough to make his mouth water. “Fuck, look at you; handsome, handsome boy,” he rumbles. Aether crouches over him, bracketing Rain’s torso with his arms and leaning in to graze their noses together. The smell of wine and sweet, heady arousal hits him like a punch to the gut. In an instant, his resolve crumbles, and all he can do is groan. “Daddy wants you so bad, baby.”

Rain’s whimper turns into a gasp as Aether runs a hand down his thigh. “Oh . . . but—clothes,” he says dumbly, still grabbing at them. 

“Don’t worry, guppy—” he breathes, tracking that hand back up to the waistband of his pants, then his fly. Rain’s groan is soft, trailing off at the end as he starts to slip somewhere distant, putty in the quint ghoul’s hands. Aether pops the snap and pulls the zipper down with one claw, pushing past Rain’s fly to cup him over his now damp underwear. His mouth brushes against the water ghoul’s messily, hungrily, and lets the momentum of it all take them both down onto the bed. 

“—Daddy’ll take good care of you.”

[veinsfullofstars]

do the CF!AU kids like music? 🎵 🎶 can any of them play an instrument?

They do! I wouldn’t say music is an especially big part of their lives, but their youth was definitely filled with it, listening to songs and dramas on the radio, catching parents or neighbors humming over dinner, or seeing the rare live performance in the village square. And, much like their choice in food, their music tastes are pretty varied, sometimes clashing, sometimes overlapping.

---

Para Dee honestly couldn’t tell you if he likes one particular genre over another, content to listen to whatever is playing as long as it isn’t too loud or grating. In his own time, he seems to enjoy more folksy tunes, acoustic covers, lo-fi beats, or anything with gentle piano… that said, if given the option, he might actually prefer some natural ambiance or even white noise instead, as these help him concentrate better when he’s working or studying. Can’t have a lot of distractions when doing rocket science, y’know (though try telling that to a house full of noisy siblings). Later in life, he gains an appreciation for bluesy and jazzier music through Meta, though he can’t say the same for the heavier or high-energy recommendations he gets from Dedede or Bow.

As much as he passively enjoys music (and actually taught himself to read notation on a whim once), he doesn’t really have a knack for making it himself. One year, when a few guest instructors came to visit the village, he and most of the neighborhood kids got the opportunity to learn an instrument of their choosing. Para tried out a bunch of different options - recorder, piano, trumpet, harp, even the triangle - but quickly found that none of them were really for him. It was a little disappointing, seeing all the fun his buddies seemed to be having… but he’s never minded appreciating things from afar, content to feel the vicarious happiness of others enjoying something he might otherwise not. Perhaps that’s why he feels only fondness when - in the future - his oldest son is the first to start singing…

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Bow Dee’s tastes land somewhere on the opposite end of the spectrum from her mild-mannered buddy. Thanks to her mothers’ rather extensive collection of old records (and the occasional eavesdrop on her more musically-inclined older brother), she’s been exposed to a lot of different music - everything from hip-hop to punk rock to bubblegum pop to breakcore to disco - with her favorites being anything fast-paced, electronic, and danceable. She’s not as into rock or metal as Dedede is but has found a few good songs through his recommendations. She finds classical music monotonous and boring, much to Para and Meta’s disappointment. Her interest in jazz or swing depends on the BPM.

Like Para, Bow does not have a single musical bone in her little body (despite how much it absolutely loves to dance). When given the choice of instrument to try, she immediately picked drums, though more to create some chaotic noise and violence rather than music, and even then, her interest didn’t last longer than the first day.

They did get into turntables for a while during their time overstars with Meta, having seen many an interstellar club scene by that point and feeling a spark of inspiration they’d never had with other creative pursuits (something nostalgic about handling those spinning records). Despite the intimidating technical aspect, they mastered the basics of DJ-ing in (heh) record time, getting so into it that they almost considered making another career change… until their exasperated squadmates dragged them back to their training, of course. Just another bright and vibrant detour at the end of the day, but at least it comes in handy at parties.

Dedede’s taste in music has changed much over the course of his life, from a youth filled with his mama’s country records to the rebellious rock ’n roll of his teen years to a later fondness for bouncier pop tunes with a big emphasis on percussion. He says he doesn’t have a lot of strong opinions about music, feeling much the same ambivalent appreciation as Para… though, the heated debates he gets into with his buddies over who the best bands are, what the coolest instrument is, or even who can hold a tune better seem to suggest otherwise.

Same goes for the actual pursuit of music. While there might’ve been some half-formed melodies floating around in his head, the thought of all the extra lessons he’d need to take to realize them always sent Dedede’s motivation packing. He only took the class because his friends did and spent much of it chatting or dozing off, messing with the tambourine in the hopes of half-assing his way through the course. When he begrudgingly moved on to drums, he found he could actually hold a beat pretty well when he put the effort into it, even having fun by the time Bow challenged him to an impromptu drum-off (which ended in a draw when they both broke their borrowed kits). Of the four of them, only he and Meta actually finished the course with the other kids, with Dedede even managing to convince his parents to get him a small drum kit of his own… though, without the focus of instruction (or the constant encouragement of his peers), the enthusiasm soon faded, and the kit was ultimately left to collect dust in a corner. It frustrated his papa to no end, continuing to deplore his son’s laziness, while his mama just shrugged, a little disappointed but ultimately unsurprised.

Though his passions clearly lie elsewhere, he still dabbles in music in his adulthood, unable to resist grabbing his tambo when a party starts heating up or picking up his old sticks when he needs to to hit something in a non-fighting way. He even picked up the cello in his later years, albeit very briefly.

There was a time when music fascinated Meta. To be fair, everything fascinated him back then, but music especially. He’d sit by a radio or spinning record for hours on end, just… listening to whatever came on, even if it wasn’t a style he particularly enjoyed. He absorbed it all with the same hungry curiosity as he did books, captivated for reasons he couldn’t articulate (maybe it was just better than the ringing weight of pure silence). Over time, as the novelty of life settled into comfortable mundanity, his tastes refined, narrowed. He found a preference for what Dedede teasingly referred to as “old people music” - brass-filled jazz, crooning blues, complex piano pieces, orchestral performances that seemed to tell whole sweeping stories without ever breathing a word. He doesn’t dislike heavier or faster music - it’s actually rather motivating when blasting through the speakers of a training room - but he does get a small kick out of subverting expectations. Some of Bow’s recommendations do tend to leave him with migraines, though. He has no strong feelings about country tunes other than the faint sense of nostalgia he gets when he hears one...

Meta was the only one of the four who took to the music class with gusto, keen to learn as always and curiously trying out just about every instrument they had available. He settled on both the piano and the violin, already partial to their sounds and eager to make them himself. It was… difficult at first, given his limited reach and the complexity of each instrument (much to the smug schadenfreude of his more dedicated bullies), but the challenge only seemed to motivate him more, even likening it to swordplay of all things, in that both skills required lots of concentration, patience, and dexterity to master (Para thought it was a a good analogy; Dedede just tried to goad him into an actual fight with his drumsticks). He continued to practice even after the class ended, learning to read notation and tabs, memorizing songs to the point where he could improvise, his little flourishes surprising and delighting anyone who got to hear him play. His few attempts at actual songwriting were… not bad, exactly, just never quite reaching the needlessly-high standards he set for himself. To this day, he’s never shared them with anyone (not even Dedede).

In time, his training would take priority, and any interest he might’ve had in pursuing music was set aside. Like Dedede, he still dabbles from time to time, occasionally taking part in celebrations with his friends (even picking up the saxophone for one of them), but little more than that. Sometimes, late at night, the crew aboard the Halberd can hear a distant violin on the breeze, always gone when they try to find it.

Sketches started 12/15/24, finished 12/18/24, info updated 06/04/25. | Childhood Friends AU Masterpost

[xxwhiskeyxx]

Mountain content..

I must ask

Can we get some AFAB Ghoul reader x mountain fluff?

Mountains been head over heels since they were first summoned but he's been too scared to tell them, so for years they never knew until Mountain gets his secret told by one of the ghouls

Possibly Ifrit because this man would ship them so hard and be a little shit about it

Just a thought tho

JUST KISS ALREADY!!!

Hello, my dear Evo, I'm sorry it took me so long to get to your request. But I have finally fulfilled it! Ifrit is the annoying little shit that gets his OTP together. I may have gone stereotypical, but I thought it was cute that went to your request. (Y/N) and Mountain have been in love for years, absolute simps for each other, but the typical oblivious goofball and the stoic one who refuses to believe that their love interest could return their feelings. But Ifrit has a plan, keep them seperated all day then drive the big guy crazy tonight during game night, just how will he do it?

-1275 words

I hope y'all enjoy this! I think it's cute with the little bit of steam at the end -Love Whiskey

Ifrit has been watching Mountain and (Y/N) pine and tiptoe around each other since the young ghouleh had been summoned by Terzo later in his reign as Papa; they had been brought to the surface from the Pit to serve as an instrument tech since they were a Multi ghoul like Swiss and Sunshine. (Y/N) was talented at each instrument, having picked up remarkably quickly on each once they were settled into the Ministry, but their favorite instruments had to be Bass and Percussion, of course, Drums being their top favorite (Sorry, Not Sorry :P) 

They have been on every tour since their summoning and have grown close with all the ghouls, most of all the lumbering giant of an Earth ghoul with whom they share a love of music. Mountain and (Y/N) have been the best of friends for years and, without the other knowing, star-crossed lovers who are so oblivious that it hurts. 

Ifrit finds it annoying that his favorite couple does not seem to know how to get together, so he comes up with a plan after listening to Mountain complain about (Y/N) being stolen anytime he wants to talk to them. 

“Hey (Y/N)! Can you come help me with something?” The Fire ghoul calls across the garden as he jogs up to the multi. He grinned as he saw the (height) (h/c) ghoul perk up in surprise from their conversation with Pebble and Mountain. “Sure, what’s up, fritter?” They ask, tilting their head as they stand, brushing off the dirt from their knees. Ifrit notices how Mountain stares up at them from where he’s half kneeling, still chest height with the multi, “I have a favor to ask. Can you come with me?” Ifrit chirps.

(Y/N) smiles, “Of course!” And off they go, IfritIfrit smiling widely as he notices the giant get up with a huff and head off in another direction. 

The Fire ghoul continues this the rest of the day, never leaving the pair alone. He watches as the normally level-headed and stoic ghoul gets more and more frustrated every time he steals the Multi away, not missing the glares he sends when he sees the himbo wrap a friendly arm around their waist. 

But it all comes to a head that night during their weekly game night; Swiss and Sunshine had come up with the idea of truth or dare spin the bottle. Everyone took turns spinning the quickly emptied wine bottle and acting out the various inane antics and deep truths they had given. Delta admitted to having once fucked Terzo on the balcony of a fancy hotel, and that’s why they were banned; Cirrus performed a lap dance for Rain, who turned the color of the deep ocean in embarrassment before hiding in Dewdrop’s lap for the rest of the night, and Ifrit will never forget seeing Alpha dressed in a maid outfit (Satan knows where Special got the thing) and romantically dancing with Aether. 

But things got spicy as the bottle slowed (Y/N). Ifrit grins as he sees his newest victim. Leaning forward, the Fire ghoul smirks. “Truth or dare, little one,” he purrs, watching as Mountain stiffens at the name. 

(Y/N) grins, “Dare bitch, hit me with your best shot!” Ifrit’s grin only grows as he glances around the circle before coming to rest on his kin, who is dressed only in a muscle shirt and dark jena

Alpha chuckles darkly as he watches them blush, the former lead guitarist hadn’t been shy about his interest in the Multi with his flirting and open offers of them coming to him if they needed help with anything.  

(Y/N)’ s face is a deep scarlet in record time as they glance over at the large ghoul, tail flittering with nerves, “uh..h..how long?” They stutter

Ifrit grins, “just one song,” already scrolling for the perfect song in his playlist. Swiss is already running to set up the designated chair for the dare, a deep red plush armchair (I’m uncreative, sue me) 

Alpha smirks as he gets up, “cmon squirt, let’s see those moves.” moving to sit in the chair as if uninterested, even if the way he’s watching them like he’s about to eat them says otherwise. Ifrit watches as Mountain knuckles whiten as he grips his pant legs. 

Soon, Minerva by Deftones spills through the speakers as (Y/N) stands, sauntering over to Alpha and swinging their hips as they walk. Thankful that they wore their ripped jeans and not the shorts they’d planned on, (Y/N) leans down to caress warm, toned arms as they roll their body sensually. 

Ifrit grins as he watches Mountain’s rage bubble to the surface. Alpha smirked and enjoyed his show, his hands holding the Multi’s hips as they ground on his lap. 

As soon as the song is over, Alpha is quick to tug (Y/N) into his lap and whisper something in their ear that has them blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl. This snaps the giant’s resolves. 

With one fluid motion, Mountain stands and stomps over, scooping up (Y/N) from the Fire ghoul’s lap and heads down the hallway. 

“So…game over?” Special chirps from where he’s lounged in Omega’s lap like a house cat 

~To Our Lovebirds~

“Mountain! Mountain, put me down! What’s wrong with you!” (Y/N) shrieks as the said ghoul kicks open his door and throws them on his bed with a grunt. Within seconds, the giant is on top of them, chest heaving as he attempts to calm himself, “What’s wrong with me?! Watching you grind on that asshat has driven me fucking crazy! Nobody should touch you like that but me! Not Alpha, not Ifrit, not anybody! Not unless they’re me! I love you, and I refuse to watch someone else touch what’s mine,” he shouts, face softening as he sees the fear in their eyes. 

Pushing up and leaning back on his heels, rubbing his face with the heels of his palms, “I’m sorry…I just… I’ve loved you since the day we met, and..watching him touch and look at you like that after Ifrit’s been stealing you all day was just too much. It… it’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” his voice hoarse as if holding back emotions

(Y/N) says nothing and stares at him for a moment before crawling towards him. Glancing up at them, “What are you doing?” 

Mountain asks, confused, before he’s pulled into a warm kiss, and his world explodes with color. 

The kiss lasts a seemingly endless amount of time, yet it feels like it ends too soon as (Y/N) pulls away. “I have loved you every day since you took me to the garden. Please know that I am yours as much as you are mine,” they whisper.

The drummer groans and tugs them into a possessive and needy kiss that quickly turns spicier as whines and growls echo under the door.

Just on the other side, a certain Himbo sits, giggling as his plan works. "“You really had to play the jealousy card?” Special asks as they flop beside him. “Yep!” Ifrit pops the P as he listens to the slowly growing noises that come through the door. 

Special smirks, “How about you come with me, and we help poor Alpha through his horny heartbreak?” 

They don’t finish their sentence before Ifrit darts down the hallway. Standing and brushing imaginary dirt from themselves, they hear a surprisingly low-pitched whine that sounds suspiciously like Mountain, “always knew he was a bottom.” they chuckle as they follow Ifrit.

[ginxyy]

The Rain and His Name

The weight of absence

The rain falls softly outside, a steady rhythm that mirrors the ache in your chest, a percussion of longing punctuating the silence of your small apartment. Each droplet dances against the window, whispering the secrets of memories shared and the weight of absence. You sit on the edge of your bed, staring at the walls adorned with photographs that capture fleeting moments; each one a canvas painted with laughter, whispered promises, and stolen glances. Yet, today, those moments feel like ghosts, lingering but out of reach, tormenting you with the reality that Mingyu is not here.

It has been days since you last heard the sound of his voice, days since you felt the warmth of his presence. Loneliness wraps around you, a heavy cloak that suffocates as you replay every conversation in your mind. You remember how, just last week, he had laid beside you, fingers intertwined as you shared stories under a blanket of stars, the world outside forgotten. In those moments, he was your universe, a brilliant light illuminating the darkest corners of your heart. But now, all you feel is a hollow echo, a void left by his absence.

“I hate it when you’re not around,” you whisper into the silence, as if the words could somehow conjure him back to your side. You hate the way the air feels heavier with his absence, how the laughter that once filled your home has been replaced with an oppressive quiet. You reach for your phone, the blue glow illuminating your face, a lifeline that never quite feels alive enough. You scroll through your messages, each text a reminder of the distance that has grown between you, the silence that screams louder than his laughter ever did.

Your thumb hovers over his name, the temptation to reach out clawing at your insides. But then, a familiar bitterness swells within you. Why hasn’t he called? The question spirals, igniting a storm of emotions that careen through your mind like a wild tempest, and you find yourself caught in its throes. You have never been good at this this business of waiting, of hoping, of feeling like a lonely moon circling a planet too far away.

And then you remember the nights filled with whispered dreams, his deep voice wrapping around you like a warm embrace. There was a certain poetry in how he spoke, every word spun from the fabric of his soul. “I wish I could show you,” he would say, brown eyes twinkling with the kind of light that seemed to banish every shadow. You could see his dreams reflected in those eyes, visions woven with the promise of forever, and for a moment, all was right in the world. You thought you understood a love that felt ethereal and tangible all at once, but now it feels like sand slipping through your fingers.

But mostly, you hate the way you don’t hate him. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. You hate that despite the hurt and the worry, your heart still longs for him with an intensity that burns brighter than the summer sun. There is something maddening about the way love can blossom from pain, nesting in the cracks of your heart like a wildflower pushing through asphalt. You want to bury that feeling, annihilate it with the weight of disappointment, but it only grows, sprawling in wild abandon, reminding you of everything that he is and everything that you two could be.

As the evening wears on, the rain intensifies, tapping against the window with increasing urgency. It mirrors the thudding of your heart, a beat that feels simultaneously desperate and hopeful. You allow your thoughts to wander, spiraling into memories of late-night conversations, of the way he would tease you until laughter bubbled from your lips, the way he would gaze at you as if you were the most incredible thing he had ever seen. The realization settles like a distant storm cloud: those moments are still yours, even if the echo of them now feels bittersweet.

And so you sit, your heart a bittersweet symphony of love and ache. The silence is a canvas, and you begin to paint your own thoughts how today, you woke up with his name lodged in your throat, an unspoken prayer that he would return soon. You think of all the places left unexplored, of words left unsaid, and how easily they could turn to regrets if he never came back.

The evening light wanes, shadows creeping into the corners of your room as you pull your knees to your chest. “I wish you would call,” you confess to the empty space beside you, the admission heavy in the air. You hate how vulnerable you feel, how the pulse of longing leaves you trembling. Your mind races, replaying the last time you saw him a simple goodbye that scrawled itself into the fabric of your days like a promise unfulfilled.

The storm outside rages, and in that moment, you realize something integral: love does not abide within the walls of presence alone. It thrives in absence as well, blooming in the longing and the frantic wishes for connection. The faint chiming of your phone interrupts the poignant solitude, and your heart leaps to your throat as you fumble for it, fingers trembling with anticipation.

You read the screen: a message from Mingyu. Each word a balm, a salve for the festering wound of his absence. “I’m sorry for not calling. I miss you—more than you know.”

And in that moment, amidst the storm and shadows, love emerges, fierce and unwavering, reminding you that while distance may create an ache, it cannot extinguish the fire that burns within your heart one that holds fast to the memories, the hopes, and the dreams yet to unfold.

The rain begins to subsume its intensity, and with each drop, you breathe a little easier. You don’t hate him at all; your love is too big, too raw, too beautiful for that. Instead, you gather your thoughts, the ache soothing with the promise of his words, and know that despite everything, you are not entirely alone.

[s1lv-wr1tes-th3-w0rld]

Rotten pt1

taco ii fic... :P

It's technically my first fic so fair warning, but it centers taco molding and getting hurt a lot too so read at your own risk!!

Includes:

Apocalyptic plot

Getting hit with a door <3

Mold (duh)

Legally a lot of object damage

Mention of death a couple times

Super not normal activity from a character for plot

word could: 1k+ starting off small :P

chapter one

Drip, drip. The leaking faucet let droplets of water hit the sink in an empty percussion. Taco's shaking hand reflected in the bathroom mirror as the other pulled her closer. The wind outside droned on. The world was silent. She breathed loudly in the echoed room, breath the only part of her that hadn't paused at the sight. Mold. It rested on one of her tomato slices, so small, so unnoticeable. If she hadn't seen it herself she would have never known. And so she was frozen in indecision. What could she even do really? No matter if she changed something or not it would be obvious. No matter what they would know. They would know, and then they'd talk about it. They would talk about her. Finally, they'd say, finally she'll be gone.

Taco crouched onto the stool she used to see her reflection. Stupid, stupid! How could she let herself get like this? How could she be so careless? How could she be so reckless? Because that's all she is, their mimicked voices echoed in her mind again. Reckless. Irresponsible. Untrustworthy.

Now came her choice. Walk out and pretend nothing changed. Pretend no problem stood. Or, take care of it here. Taco glanced back at her reflection. Lose a part of herself, or further bury her reputation? Rain hit outside the window. Distant strikes of lightning further added tension. Live without being whole, or die a social reject?

Taco opened the door back into the hotel. She still wasn't used to anything there, the orange walls suffocated her and the ceiling caged her in. Every door was an escape to familiarity locked by social pressure. Come inside, Taco. Live inside, Taco.

"Taco?" Her voice rung out through the hallway. A little too loud, a little too bright. Microphone. Something was off this time, however. This time she was a little too... Cheery. She turned on the couch to face Taco. Her smile shown too many teeth, her eyes conveyed nothing at all. Her face expressed only a neutral nothing about it. It was too digestiblely unbiased. "Where have you been?" She said, in a tone unchanging with every word. A constant, monotone, marketable bland. Taco hesitated, "I was just using the mirror in the bathroom." She rocked on her feet uncomfortablely. "I'm not even sure why Oj and Paper put some of the other appliances in there." She laughed lightly with nervousness tinting her voice. She laughed only to herself.

"Taco," Her voice seemed more hollow now, "Where have you been?"

Taco paused, "...You just asked me that, Mic."

"Taco," She repeated with no emotion, "Where have you been?"

It wasn't Mic. It wasn't Microphone at all.

Taco stepped backwards hesitantly. It stood. She took another step. It followed suit forwards. It did not blink, it did not change its face, it did not flinch until Taco moved again. She stepped back. It stepped forward. She was caught in a dance with something that was no longer Mic. A dance where one watches the other because they don't know what the other is capable of. She stepped back. It stepped forward. The rhythm became predictable. The predator stalks its prey and waits for it to inch back into a corner helplessly. But the predator fails to realize in the moment. That the prey is much, much quicker.

Taco bolts for the bathroom, it follows, this time not waiting for her to step first. She passes by door after door, locked tight or simply empty. Not a soul could hear her voice now if they tried. She rounded a corner and it slammed into the neighboring wall. Feedback rings. She finally reaches the door she's looking for as it regains focus. She struggles at the handle, it slips in her grasp, slick with sweat. Not-Mic, dented, eyes hollow, grill cracked open from the impact in which it threw Mic's body at the wall, lifts it's nothing gaze toward Taco again. She pulls at the handle. The door swings open. Taco races in and shuts the bathroom door, pressing her full weight against it. Praying it doesn't get in. It tries.

Slam! It throws itself like a metal battering ram. Taco, gripping the door, is thrown into the wall behind it. She cracks like mosaic. Beautiful, gold, green, and red mosaic trying to keep itself together literally and figuratively as death awaits inches behind the wood bashing and killing her. Silence falls as she holds her face together. It isn't breathing. It isn't moving. It's just waiting. Soft footsteps lead it outside the doorway. "Taco?" It calls in Mic's voice, happily yet still with no soul behind it, "Tacooo? Where have you been, Taco? Taco?" She pushes back on the door and it shuts loudly. It turns at the sound, but it's too late, trying to get in but only breaking its hand when the door shuts again. It pulls back and Taco finally locks the door. And then. In rage, in pain, in something or nothing at all. It screams. And it screams in Mic's voice.

Aaaaaaauuuuuhhhhhaaaaaaaahhhh! A genuine, horrific shriek rings out in the empty, empty halls. Mic isn't there, but there must be a reason it knows exactly how she screamed. It sulks away. Taco clutches her shell still, shaking and shuddering. She stands unevenly, and races to check the cabinets for anything at all to hold her together. A small bundle of bandages meant for limbs sits waiting for her. She takes and unravels it with her teeth, which barely hangs on in of itself. Crack, crack. It worsens in her hasty repair. Around and around she wraps it one handed, soon two, before she can stand again on the stool and see the new her she'll have to come accustomed to quite possibly forever. It burns more emotionally than physically. Live without being whole, or die a social reject?

The rain outside hums on. She's at a choice again. What does it matter? She searches and finds only dental floss to use, pulling out a length of string and using it to messily slice off the mold of her tomato. Live, she decides, I choose live.

[xinfinityl0ve17]

It comes back around. That way we discover and grow together. We are also a mirror, and so are the people who come to watch. When you send out a signal, it doesn’t become one way.

The live tour "Ville de merveilles - Transparent Spiral" by MALICE MIZER at the end of last year had many surprising aspects. Among them fans who had previously associated them with a medieval image were amazed by the futuristic stage set and costumes, as well as the band's new side and the wide range of their concepts.

In this page we focus on the first half of the live show featuring a photo session with the debut of the futuristic costumes and move on to discussions about their vision of the near future from the live performance.

From the opening the two songs featuring synchronized dance by all the members were eye catching. Gackt, Mana and Közi stepped in a regular pattern while Kami and Yu~ki played the percussion wildly behind them.

Kami and Yu~ki joked, “We can do anything so it’s okay.”

It was a moment that reaffirmed that they are a group that can use any means of expression. First let’s discuss the concept behind each of their costumes.

Mana: “It was designed with the awareness of a near future era with something easy to move in.”

Közi: “Surreal and inorganic. I added a slit on the side to make it easier to move.”

Yu~ki: “I tried to incorporate my previous image with the top hat and tailcoat while adding a more inorganic feel.”

Kami: “...I forgot.”

Gackt: “I wanted to make sure it didn’t reflect too much light and liked the color scheme so i chose that material. I aimed for something androgynous that isn’t distinctly male or female and that’s how it turned out.”

Next, we’ll introduce their individual visions of the near future, not just as a band.

Gackt: “When asked what I would be like in 10 years i always give the same answer. It’s too bright to see. Some people might see it as positive others negative but in any case it’s too bright to see.”

Mana: “It’s a fine line between rosy and worst case scenarios.”

Közi: “I’ll swim. While scattering salt in the sulfur.”

Kami: “I’ll spread my wings. The end.”

Yu~ki: “I haven’t thought about it. I want to feel my current self and the thoughts of people so i want to live without worrying about it.”

Now, let’s talk about the concept of the stage. Mana explains:

“The stage set was a little different from the initial design. 'Ville de merveilles' means a mysterious city. To put it concretely, it’s a futuristic and mysterious city. The transparent spiral is a keyword. You remember the mark that was projected onto the stage at the opening, right? There’s a mystery hidden in that, but I can’t tell you its meaning. Actually there is an 'aha' moment.”

[lisascorner]

HI ANOTHER SPARK HAS BEEN SPARKED

this hc post is gonna be me assigning the ninja their CCAs (or after-school activities) !!!!!

huhuhu im quite excited for this one

lloyd

SCOUTS. ITS GREEN, HAS BADGES, AND REQUIRES YOU TO BE AN ALL-ROUNDER. what more do i need to say?

he's probably the type to do all the fun ones (video game badge, music badge and the like) and then he'll do the camping ones with garmadon. LOLOLOL

i would count him as an outdoor person since it allows him to connect with his elemental energy more, so there's that.

but, BUT, i think there may be a possibility he joins the chinese orchestra and plays the guqin or erhu. hehe

nya

robotics!! tbh i can also see her in scouts (or brownies, and NPCC) but she's definitely more tech-oriented and would want to have a place where she can build her inventions more freely.

she also likes playing with lego technic pieces, duh. what's a lego hc post without a lego product placement?

kayaking or canoeing are also good choices. mayyybe swimming?

kai

WUSHU (武术)!!!!! he just want to be super flashy with an equally flashy sword that makes a lot of noise. the sound of warrior shoes hitting the ground and swords clashing are music to his ears.

alternatively, basketball. cocky ass motherfucker has the attitude for it.

cole

okay this is a little weird, but hear me out: bowling.

i feel like everyone who was in a bowling CCA in primary school were generally really chill but strong, and that's what cole is to me. he just has the stature of a bowler who wants to go pro in the future.

bouldering is also a possibility!! that was what he was doing before he joined master wu anyways.

but if he wants to stick to his art roots then probably choir or tap dance. huhu

jay

BADMINTON NO QUESTIONS. he's so badminton coded it HURTS.

weirdly enough? probably fencing and floorball too. i feel like he'd pick up the maximum allowed number of extracurriculars because they're all things he likes.

zane

okay, robotics is the obvious choice, but red cross or st. john's ambulance are perfect for him since he can just. ice injuries. LMFAO

also, marching band. percussion boy YUP

actually i can also see him in a string ensemble. hmm

OKAY THATS ALL THANKS GUYS

[sualne]

Sorry if you're already working on this but with Luffy in Croc dad what's his hobby?? Like he's the biggest ball of energy and I think if wasn't fighting wild animals as a kid he would vibrate into another dimension from lack of stimulation. Does he draw and develop his art skills, has he taken up music or is he invested with the void century with Robin? Croc wants to keep him inside and safe so what did he think would be best to entertain him or does he buy a new thing every week that Luffy says he suddenly wants to do. Yes he looks at books but is that it. Also sorry if you answered this before and I've missed waht you said, I am pretty sure I've seen all your comics on this but I haven't seen all your ask answering questions.

i hadn't gotten these questions and im so glad you ask!! :D

so! luffy doesn't have one specific hobby and croc does end up giving him whatever he wants when he suddenly gets a new obsession, one of the reason he's so excited with finding the jewelry box and getting a dagger is because it's finally something new! after that he gets really into rings and knives until it gets bored of it and switch to something else again.

about him and learning about the void century with robin i actually got a comic later for that so i won't say anything here!

im going to make this a list and explain how it goes, under read more:

Fighting: this luffy doesn't know how to fight, but he still love the concept! he gets really excited hearing stories of fights, duels, martial arts and all the rest! In practice though, since he's been so sheltered and only ever saw one real fight that ended up with people being killed in front of him as a kid, if (haha) he were to witness another real fight he wouldn't be as giddy about it as when he hears stories. he does also learn the tiniest bit of kenpo from bonclay!

Dancing: luffy in canon loves dancing (and partying), here too! he doesn't know/master any specific styles but likes to drag people into dancing with him, if no one is around he'll grab some of the smaller bananawani instead.

Singing: he's still very bad at it.

Music: croc noticed how he'd taps on thing and tried to get him to learn some percussion, unfortunately for him, luffy doesn't care about music theory and just does whatever makes him happy. he also love loud noises and croc has to find a way to stop him from making a racket at any hours of the day, it gets worse when luffy loses some of his hearing and needs to make everything even louder. eventually he gets bored of it too.

Cooking: him and croc cooks together pretty often, if no one is there to supervise him luffy will ignore recipes and common sense, making all kind of abominations. it's a miracle he never set the kitchen on fire.

Bugs: he loves them! he collect them! alive. croc is horrified one day when he finds out baby luffy has been letting some food to rot so he could observes flies and larvae going through their little bug lives cycle. later croc gives him those pinned dead bugs collection boxes thinking luffy will like it, he doesnt.

Board&Cards Games: he mostly has to play them by himself, he doesn't like being alone so he'll often ends up playing it "with" the banawanis. after he loses a few too many times against the banawanis and can't get croc to join in for the millionth time he gives up on them. even when robin joins baroques works he still expect her to be too busy to play with him and doesn't ask (she would have accepted if he had asked).

Art&Craft: he tries a bit of everything, doing it his own way meaning most of it is kind of hideous or about to fall apart, canon luffy is completely fine with that, au luffy though, he's having ton of fun at first but when he gets old enough to see that his dad cant quite fake his enthusiasm or interest towards his disastrous creations he gets frustrated and stops for a while. later, robin finds an old drawing of his and thinks its cute so he start doodling a little again for her.

basically, he struggles keeping a hobby, some like fighting, dancing, bugs and staring at pictures in geography books he keeps through his life but mostly, he's very lonely and bored out of his mind, he's depressed, that's not something that can be helped for as long as he's isolated.

when robin becomes a part of his life everything gets better for him! she spends time with him, read stories for him, helps him get out more often, they even meet bonclay and for a few years he's genuinely happy.

[blasphemousclaw]

I'm glad to see you back! Your analysis of the Divine Beast Dancing Lion ost was a wonderful read and I'd love to read more of your thoughts on the Elden Ring/Soulsborne music

thank you so much!!! :D eventually I’d like to make another dedicated post analyzing another boss soundtrack but for now I had a more general thought on the ER soundtrack in mind — the soundtrack on the whole relies on strings and choir with some brass, so it becomes noteworthy whenever a piece throws in some different instruments because it gives it a unique musical texture that sets it apart from other tracks! I notice woodwinds the most because im a woodwind player but I’m also talking about percussion and keyboard instruments… gonna shout out a few tracks I like from the ER OST that come to mind:

- Regal Ancestor Spirit has a variety of winds — the main wind lines are played on what sounds like a wooden or bamboo flute, and for added musical texture there’s concert flutes and clarinets (in phase 2) plus what I’m pretty sure is a fujara, one of the coolest sounding woodwinds ever imo. also these are percussion not woodwinds but shoutout to the rainstick and the rattles. anyway I love this piece because it’s so unlike everything else on the soundtrack! the instruments create a super airy, reedy, organic texture that totally evokes an ancient forest creature for me

- The second phase of Rennala, Queen of the Full Moon has flutes playing a continuously flowing line underneath the choir, which then adds clarinet and english horn. There’s lots of little metallic sounds of chimes and a piano somewhere in there too… it all gives the impression of running water under a starry sky, which matches Rennala’s boss arena beautifully

- The harpsichord in Mohg, Lord of Blood adds a sort of refined, ornate, delicate texture to the piece, which really emphasizes the contrast in Mohg’s character design; a very bestial looking guy in a super ornate, priestlike robe

- The reason why Lichdragon Fortissax feels so uniquely powerful and intense is because of the organ, especially in phase 2 where it’s playing all the fast chromatic scales against the main melody!! I love the the organ so much, I’ve always felt like it had such a tragic sound which is such a good fit for Fortissax as a character

this isn’t at all a comprehensive list, but just some of my favorite examples of how adding even one specific instrument gives character to a piece!

[ask-postcrash-curly]

okay okay maybe i’ve heard people make noises like that recently. maybe i hear noises like that and worse every day. smart ass. my point was that it was bad. well, i was TRYING to make a point.

i’m not actually angry. please don’t be scared. as i said at some point earlier, you literally cannot anger me.

hey, would you maybe be ok if they used some of his clothes for bandages? i’m not sure that’d be super practical, but it might be good for something. i realize that some subjects might be sensitive, because obviously and i don’t bring it up to upset you eating your best friend is gonna be a tough conversation. i won’t suggest it. why? it’s gross. it’s a LAST LAST resort. that doesn’t mean that the dead guy sitting in the “basement” is useless. i know that sounds terrible, but hey. you can’t really complain about resources if they’re available and you’re desperate.

i wish you guys had a communication system. maybe someone could write the alphabet and you can point? with your nub? you have your entire right arm, you’re just missing your hand. if an even higher power is listening, you should totally let me speak with anya or swansea.

speaking of the fellas, i’m digging the slumber party thing you’ve got going on in here. cozy! this room is really getting busy, huh? im glad anya covered the screen. its not super calming. i wish i could change that thing.

our recent talk of classical music has got me reminiscing. oh how Death reminisces… reminiscing about you and your isms. you would be making dinner or whatever you’d do while listening to music on earth, and you’d subconsciously… how do i even describe it? not dancing, but moving with the music, just following it. moving your hand in a certain way with the strings, fingers would follow some piano, and the rest of you would follow it, sometimes you’d make little noises with the percussion, when the winds would hit a particular note, you’d raise your nose following the vibrato, just stuff like that. i don’t even know if you ever noticed it. i know other people did.

there was this one time when your mother’s friend noticed it while she was over, and she thought it was the cutest thing. it was, you were this little guy just doing your little thing with your little hums and taps. when you were little, and you’d walk, you’d make little noises with every step, carrying mousey everywhere all the meanwhile. you started talking early too. you were such a little whimsical kid. oh lord *sniff* GOD. that kind of stuff makes me BAWL.

(loud blubbering is heard, it’s clearly not genuine sadness, but the cries of hyperbolic affection.)

oh, you were funny. you still are, but your loss of… important things… has stripped you of your ability to express certain things. when you get back and you get all your cool robot prosthetics, you’ll re-learn that stuff. i can’t wait see that. i can’t wait to see you live again.

i think you’re gonna make it.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=vzZII-1A-VQ

🖤🖤

Okay, okay. Was being genuine, for the record.

(Thanks.)

Well, they're covered in his blood, so we'd have to clean them first... It's, uh, it's fine. We've got a few more bed dividers left, plus the bedding in the lounge. Anya's ripped up most of the top of her coveralls, too. They're not really coveralls anymore. More like trousers. Anyways. We don't need to go there.

Don't know. Motor control's been better, you know? And anyway, it isn't like I can pass these suggestions along... ugh.

Hah. I guess so. Personally I'm not feeling cozy at all, but the thought's nice. Yeah... I'm glad for that, too. It keeps falling down though. The only time it landed on me was while she was out of the room... It was only me and Swansea, actually. She and Daisuke were getting food. But Big Swans moved it before I could suffocate. Cheers.

Wow. It's still strange how you know everything Makes sense, obviously, but... Yeah. I don't particularly remember doing all that. Not on purpose, at least. Sounds like something I'd do though, hah. Other people noticed...?

Pfft. Those were the days. ...Seriously? Hah.

Well, thanks for that. ...I hope so.

!!! Thank you!!

[thegreatmatpi]

Love Live! School Idol Honor Band

this took me wayyyyy too long to figure out and edit together but i'm very proud of the balance of this ensemble!! explanations (for most of them at least) below the cut!

μ's

honoka: trumpet obviously. she's been shown playing the bugle and has the energy to match.

kotori: flute. kotori has flute player vibes. i swear i've seen her play the flute somewhere and if i haven't the image fits so well.

umi: french horn. again, vibes.

hanayo: oboe. needs a really specific skillset to get it to sound good and hanayo seems like she'd be that kind of specialist.

rin: percussion. what else could it be? the sheer energy of that joy and whimsy must be harnessed to make music by hitting things.

maki: in the spirit of avoiding the low-hanging fruit, i'm giving her the flute as well.

nico: trumpet. how else is she supposed to get noticed?

eli: tenor sax. she has the right kind of cool for it.

nozomi: baritone sax. i don't need to elaborate.

Aqours

chika: trumpet. she looks up to honoka so she'd play the same instrument.

you: percussion. i am projecting.

riko: clarinet. i think most of the piano players will end up having woodwind instruments.

yohane: tuba. i think the image of yohane with a tuba is both hilarious and very fitting.

hanamaru: contrabass. it fits very well but i don't know why.

ruby: flute. following in her sister's footsteps

dia: flute. her perfectionist nature lends itself to flute playing.

kanan: trombone, she has a very cool and calm vibe that suits it.

mari: euphonium. solely because she reminds me too much of asuka tanaka from hibike euphonium.

Nijigasaki

ayumu: clarinet. the og 9 are all based on the marching in harmony set

setsuna: trombone. she also has the chaos to match.

ai: percussion. also based on that one magazine art of her holding drumsticks.

lanzhu: also percussion. she has percussion vibes.

kasumi: trumpet. also because she wants to play solos.

rina: percussion.

shizuku: piccolo.

shioriko: french horn. she has the same vibes as umi as far as instrument choice.

karin: alto sax.

kanata: euphonium.

emma: tuba. her marching in harmony card has a sousaphone, which for all intents and purposes is a tuba with the pipes wrapped in such a way to facilitate marching.

mia: alto sax. not entirely sure why but again, avoiding the piano, and this makes sense.

Liella!

kanon: euphonium. she IS kumiko oumae from hibike euphonium, which probably why i like her so much tbh.

keke: french horn. partially for ensemble balance but i can see it.

sumire: trombone. it's flashy and perfect for showbiz.

chisato: percussion. so many circles. moving around like that is also kind of a dance in and of itself.

ren: oboe. she has the elegance for it.

kinako: clarinet. her character arc reminds me most of a clarinet player's

mei: trombone. she's kinda like a trombone herself in a way i can't really articulate.

shiki: tuba. i legitimately can't see her playing anything else because tuba fits so well.

natsumi: alto sax. flashy. she picked it up again after joining liella and actually put some work into it.

margarete: french horn. something something vienna philharmonic something something beethoven symphony.

tomari: bass clarinet. fits too well.

Hasunosora

(i don't know much about them so this is purely vibes and to balance out the band)

kaho: trumpet.

sayaka: clarinet.

rurino: alto sax.

kozue: flute.

tsuzuri: bass clarinet. the way she acts around sayaka reminds me of how one of the senior bass clarinetists was around one of the clarinetists.

megumi: clarinet.

kosuzu: clarinet.

ginko: flute.

hime: bassoon.

and obviously yuu is the conductor.

i have also put a little thought into the seating chart and percussion part assignments. nozoeli, shikimei, and tsuzusaya are sat together bc of course they are. kinako and ren are next to each other as kind of like a mentor/mentee kinda thing, and similar logic with dia and ruby. trumpets i probably put the most thought into. i have chika as first chair ahead of honoka in second chair as kind of a symbol of how she got Aqours to shine like µ's, and possibly even brighter. kasumi is just behind nico but their auditions were pretty similar. inspired by that one part from the sifas main story where the two of them hold a joint stream to see who the fans love more and they both fail to attract much good attention. kaho is brand new on the trumpet; she picked it up because it looked cool and then realized there was a very steep learning curve. kind of like hazuki katou from hibike if that makes sense. ai and rina are with their marching in harmony instruments. rin has crash cymbal energy. you and lanzhu are focused on mallets mainly so i gave them marimba and vibraphone. chisato is on timpani because four big circles. that said the percussionists know how to play everything and they'll switch around for each piece.

anyway would love to hear y'all's thoughts on this! i love putting the love live girlies in situations where they play instruments :3

[become-potatoes]

things about seeing hadestown live that just. hits.

- the beginning, where hermes goes “aight!” and the company responds, and then he does it again and the audience responds

- hades and persephone sitting up in the little balcony chatting

- during road to hell where hermes goes “orpheus and eurydice!” and they bump into each other and just. stare.

- the fates are always just waiting. in the background. watching.

- during any way the wind blows when eurydice asks if anyone has a match, orpheus runs from his spot stage left to give one to her, but he’s not quick enough

- all the train whistle sounds come from a whistle that hermes has!

- additionally, each of the fates has a different instrument they play: one plays accordion, one plays violin/fiddle, and the other plays various percussion

- everytime hades dramatically flicks on his sunglasses the entire audience laughed

- during livin it up on top the trombonist comes down and plays with the ensemble

- also major ensemble shoutout, there’s only five of them and they killed it. so full of energy and emotion

- and the orchestra!!!! they’re great and they’re onstage the whole time and during act 2 persephone calls them put by name and everyone claps for them

- during the ensemble dance numbers keep ur eyes on orpheus and eurydice they’re being incredibly cute in the background

- WHEN STAGE EXPANDED MY MOUTH DROPPED OPEN IT WAS INSANE AND THE LIGHTS OH MY GOD

- the ensemble swings lanterns out over the audience and its amazing

- persephone does a lot of interacting with the audience and talking to them during our lady of the underground. major flirt

- watching the turntables is even better in real life

- when orpheus races up to greet eurydice in the underworld he comes up from the house right aisle

- nothing can prepare you for seeing orpheus turn around live

i saw jordan and solea, and i thought they were great! a different vibe from eva and reeve, but i think they’re going to really grow into their roles and have great chemistry together.

also lillias was out when i saw it so malcolm stepped in as hermes and he did great!!