#Fallin Flower 1

[wooahaeruby]

I helped with this story c:

Chapter 1: Like a mix of sadness with a cold smile

Chapter WC: 4186

Tags

This is just sad, good luck

Master List | Next

Life had been a drag. Classes felt like a waste, Work became hell, And hobbies that once evoked passion only provide emptiness now. So to whomever this might find, I’m sorry. I wish I did better.

December 24

Your morning started the way it usually did. You woke up to a sliver of sunlight that leaked through your worn-out blinds. It was always five minutes before your alarm when you would rise from your bed like a zombie. Mornings just never agreed with you. The sun was too bright for your tired eyes, but the fresh morning air was always worth it.  

You cracked open your window and gazed upon the morning landscape. The neighborhood you grew up in hadn’t changed much. There was a bite to the air as it was winter and you saw that the morning dew had frozen over. Snowflakes gently fell from the sky and with a shiver you went to close your window, but a flash of yellow caught your eye.

A yellow warbler sat itself atop one of the branches of the now barren plum tree that rested outside of your window. You couldn’t help but stare at the little splotch of color in an otherwise bland world. It was hard to fight the smile that spread across your face as the songster began to chirp, sadly none of it friends were out and about.

“It’s winter, little guy. You need to go home where it’s warm and safe.” You said to the bird.

The feathered friend looked at you and cocked its head before it sang again.

A small laugh escaped you. “I commend your determination soldier but go home.” You clapped your hands together once and the sound was enough to startle the bird back from where it came.

You needed a warm shower and coffee to truly wake you up. Showering was a task, but it always made you feel better. Coffee was coffee, you were never going to turn down a warm mug. 

Once downstairs you retrieved your favorite mug from the cabinet and filled it nearly to the brim. The warm liquid made the mug change from black to Van Gogh’s Starry Night. It was a gift from one of your friends, he knew you loved Van Gogh’s work, he knew a lot about you. 

“Good morning, my little mushroom! Did you sleep well?”

Your father was always a morning person. Ever chipper in the presence of hardship, hardship being the choice between vanilla or pumpkin spice creamer. 

“I slept pretty well. Got up before my alarm again.” You blew the steam away from your mug and took a sip, you preferred cinnamon creamer.

The seat across from you was soon occupied by your father who also began to blow on his hot coffee. This is how most mornings went, coffee with dad and the sound of silence. Nothing could really beat the serenity of winter mornings, there was no rush to get things done, laziness was accepted and warmth was shared. 

“It’s a Saturday, do you have work?” The quiet was broken, but you didn’t mind.

You cozied up to your warm mug. “Evening shift. I’ll be home late.”

“Evening? What are you doing awake?”

A lump formed in your throat, hesitating before you spoke. “Today’s the day-” You cut yourself off, not wanting to speak it into existence.

“Oh.” Your father looked down at his coffee and then to you. “This is the day he went missing.”

“Yeah-” Your voice broke, but you quickly cleared your throat, “I’m going to buy some chrysanthemums and meet up with Cheolie at the cemetery.” 

“Do you want me to drive you-”

“No. I’ll be fine. I’m going to take the bus. And before you ask, yes, my bus card has money on it.” You offered your father a small smile, but you could tell he was worried.

He simply nodded his head and dropped the subject. 

You finished the last of your coffee and before you could get up your father was already taking the empty mug to the sink. You muttered a small ‘thank you’ and went back upstairs to brush your teeth and gather your things. Before you could leave your father stopped you and pulled you in for a tight hug.

All you could do was let out a strained laugh and return the hug. “I kinda need to breathe, dad.”

He placed a small peck on your head and released you. “Tell Seungcheol I said hello and Merry Christmas.”

“Will do!” You responded as you left. 

The first stop was the small flower boutique near your neighborhood and then the bus stop. The flowers would survive the trip. 

It was a modest bouquet, yellow chrysanthemums, a flower of mourning in your friend's culture. He would appreciate them. You also left a small note tucked into the bouquet, you always did. You knew he wouldn’t be able to read it, but you hoped that the words reached him somehow. 

You hugged the flowers close on the ride to the cemetery. The idle chatter was maddening so you took out your phone and opened Spotify. You put in your ear buds and chose the playlist that your small group of friends shared. The three of you used the playlist to communicate with each other, how you were feeling. A way to reach out without making nervous calls or wondering how to correctly word a text message. 

Now Playing: Your Voice - Kim Feel

The song never failed to put you in a trance. You stared out the window and watched as the town blurred into blotches of color. You listened carefully to every lyric. It was the last song he shared in the playlist and so you held it close, memorized it, you even listened to it before bed. So what if it made you cry yourself to sleep, you would give anything to just see him again.

Tears threatened to fall, but you swallowed them. Your stop was approaching and if Seungcheol caught a whiff of sadness he would go into protective brother mode. 

Inhale

Exhale

You put one foot in front of the other after you exited the bus. The cemetery was peaceful as always. No one was there but you did see Seungcheol’s old car, which definitely needed a tune up, in the parking lot. You breached the gate of the cemetery and continued walking with the bouquet still held close to your chest.

As you approached his headstone, you saw another figure come into view. Dressed in a black wool coat and warm red scarf was Seungcheol, a friend you had known since childhood. You carefully walked up the path so as to not disturb him. His head sagged down and as you got closer you could see his eyes were closed. He wasn’t religious, but he paid his respects in his own way, praying didn’t have to be tied to religion anyway.

“I see you have already cleaned up the headstone a bit. How long have you been here?” Your voice came out weaker than you wanted.

Seungcheol turned his attention to you. His cheeks were a bit pink in addition to his nose. He sniffled before he spoke.

“I’ve been standing here for about five minutes. Hello, by the way.” He offered a gummy smile and held an arm out, an invitation for a hug.

“Hi.” You returned the smile and nestled into the warmth of your friend. 

He held onto you and squeezed. The two of you remained like that for a moment before you realized you were still holding onto the flowers. You knelt down and gently replaced the old flowers with the new. Your hand lingered on the cold stone and you traced over the intricate lettering.

“Wish you were here, Seokmin.” You muttered under your breath.

You had been so numb these past few days you didn’t even notice when the tears finally wet your cheeks. You stood and returned to Seungcheol. As your eyes met he immediately began to coddle you. Warmth radiated onto you as he stood close to examine your face.

“They’re just tears, Cheolie.” You said matter of factly.

He began to use his scarf to wipe the tears from your cheeks. It was soft and had the faint scent of sage. 

“I know, I know.” He released his hold on your face, “But Min-ah wouldn’t want us to shed any more tears.”

Your face scrunched into something in between a smile and a scowl. You knew Seokmin hated it when people were sad, he couldn’t even watch people cry in movies. A sigh escaped you as you remembered watching Marley And Me, it was a steady flow of tears that came from your friend. You had to console him for nearly the whole night.

“Oh!” It was a small exclamation, but it still caught Seungcheol by surprise. “Dad says hi and Merry Christmas.”

Seungcheol chuckled. “He knows he has my number right?”

“Yes, but I am forever his most trusted courtier.” You finished the statement with a small bow of your head.

The two of you shared a laugh, but it passed too soon. Joy almost felt forbidden on a day like today. Christmas Eve was supposed to be jolly and full of holiday spirit, but for you and Seungcheol it was a day of sorrow and remembrance. 

“Have you eaten? We can go into town and grab a bite.” Seungcheol offered.

“Sounds good, I’m starving.”

The drive into town was peaceful for a Saturday in December. Seungcheol took you to a quaint bistro for brunch and more coffee. There was a hearth with a steady flame that warmed the room, making it comfortable enough to shed your winter jackets.

“Anything in particular that you want?” Seungcheol scanned the menu as he spoke.

A large smirk was plastered on your face. “As much as daddy’s wallet can afford.”

Seungcheol choked on his spit as the words smacked him. “Don’t- don’t. Please.”

You shrugged innocently as you looked at him with big eyes. “What are you talking about? Did I say something weird?”

“Do. Not. Gaslight. Me.”

“I’m not gaslighting you-”

“I’m your ride home.” 

“I have my bus card, loser.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Seungcheol’s shocked expression. It was so good you pulled out your phone and snapped a picture of his face. He attempted to push the phone away, but you swiftly changed your angle and stole a few more pictures for good measure. The waitress arriving at your table made the two of you act more reserved, but anyone could see that the two of you were clowns.

Both you and Seungcheol started off with a cup of coffee to warm yourselves up. You mingled, just simple conversations like work and recent TV show theories. When the food arrived you focused more on eating rather than chatting. As you were enjoying your food you couldn’t help but notice Seungcheol looking at you, and it wasn’t the normal ‘I love my friend’ stare. It was more along the lines of ‘Is my friend okay?’.

You touched the tips of your fingers to your lips. “What? Is there food on my face?”

Seungcheol snickered. “No.” He smiled, but there was something else behind it. “I’m just worried about you.”

There was hesitation in his voice, like he wasn’t entirely sure if the topic was appropriate given you two were in public. The statement left a bad taste in your mouth. You immediately felt judged even though you knew it was not your friend’s intention. 

“I’m fine, Cheolie. I’ve just been a little tired recently.” You tried to hide any negativity with a smile, but Seungcheol wasn’t buying it.

“I can see that. You look like you’re not getting enough sleep and you’re looking a little gaunt. Are you eating all of your meals?” 

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “I mean, I’m alive, aren’t I? I still go to my classes and I have my job-”

“You’re proving my point.” Seungcheol interjected.

The interruption surprised you, it had been a while since you and Seungcheol talked about each other's well being. The more you thought about your friend's concerns the more it stressed you out and more stress meant more exhaustion. You didn’t even notice you had a white-knuckled grip on your fork until Seungcheol held his hand open for you to hold it.

You placed the fork down and gently placed your hand on Seungcheol’s. He rubbed small circles over your knuckles with his thumb and you could feel him trying to massage out the indentations on your palm. It was soothing, but you still felt emotion bubbling into your throat.

A deep sigh broke the momentary silence. “When was the last time you painted something?”

“I submitted a project for my fine arts-”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Seungcheol’s expression went stern, you found it hard to endure.

Seungcheol was always like a big brother to you, but when he had that look in his eye he seemed more like a parent. 

“I haven’t truly painted since-” Now you were interrupting yourself. You cleared the lump in your throat with a cough. “It’s been about two years.”

There was a pause between the two of you. Seungcheol looked down at your hand and nodded. He squeezed your hand reassuringly and returned his attention to you.

“So ever since Seokmin went missing?”

You mouthed a soft ‘yes’, it was barely a whisper but Seungcheol heard you. He understood you better than most. That wasn’t saying much though, your list of friends dwindled over the years. The only reason why Seungcheol stuck around was because he would kill you if you ghosted him.

“How about we finish up here and I take you home? That way you can relax and I can say hello to your father in person.”

With the nod of your head Seungcheol asked for the bill. He covered the cost of the meal and you tipped the waitress. She thanked you and wished you a Merry Christmas, you returned the gesture, but it felt like an empty sentiment.

The drive was as quiet as before yet it was not as peaceful. There was a subtle tension in the air. The type of tension that was a result of unspoken words and problems that needed to be confronted. 

As you entered your house you were met with the smell of apples and cinnamon. Your dad always liked to prepare a day early for Christmas dinner. 

“Dad! I’m back!”

Your father peeked his head into the hallway and smiled as he saw you. “Welcome back!” His smile grew wider as he saw you were with Seungcheol. “Heya Cheol!”

You watched Seungcheol and your father exchange greetings while you untied your shoes and placed them near the front door. Next you hung up your jacket, but you still held your bag.

“I’m gonna go put my bag upstairs. I’ll be back!” You said as you jogged up the steps.

The second you were in your room you closed your door and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your bag was flung onto the ground next to a pile of clean laundry you couldn’t be bothered to fold. With a sigh you flopped onto your bed and stared at the ceiling. Even though it was early in the afternoon, you felt a wave of tiredness wash over you. You tried to rub the sleep from your eyes, but soon found yourself dozing off.

A knock on your door startled you awake and you sprung up to see the doorknob gently turn. Seungcheol peered around the door and met your gaze. 

“You said you’d be right back. It’s been twenty minutes.” He said with a hint of worry.

Exhaustion was still written all over your face and you fought back a yawn before you spoke. “All I did was lay down. I must have passed out.”

Seungcheol didn’t say anything, he didn’t breach the doorway either. Your blinds were closed so the room was dark, the only light being that of the hallway. Seungcheol was just a silhouette due to the difference in brightness.

“Well, I just wanted to let you know that I’m heading out.”

You rose from your bed. “Already? You just got here.”

“For you maybe. I’ve been talking to your dad about stocks and I came up here to escape him.” Seungcheol’s tone turned apologetic. “I can hang out up here for a little if you want. But it can’t be for more than an hour.”

You walked over to your window and opened the blinds. The light that shined on your face made you instinctively flinch and squint all at once. Your door creaked softly as Seungcheol entered and he immediately went for the bean bag chair that sat at the corner of your room. He always stole that spot any chance he got. He even told you to give him the chair so that he can have it in his room, but you refused. It took three separate days of refusal for him to stop asking for it and an extra day for him to buy one for himself.

Despite the state of your room, Seungcheol never judged. Most of the mess was an assortment of papers, art supplies and unfinished projects anyway. You always made sure to keep food out of your room and if you did eat upstairs your father always reminded you to take your plate down for washing. 

Seungcheol pointed to a slightly uncovered canvas. “Is that one of your school projects?”

You saw what he was referring to. It was a fairly large canvas that only had a sketch on it. You covered it back up before he could see anymore of it. “Uh- not really. It’s something I’ve been working on for a while. I just haven’t had any inspiration lately.”

“No inspiration?” Seungcheol thought for a moment. “Want to do some exercises then? Get a sketch pad, draw something in the room. You used to do that all the time.”

“I don’t know. My mind is a bit unfocused right now.” You trailed off.

Seungcheol stood up and retrieved your sketch pad and pencils from your desk. He handed them to you. “Just. Draw.”

You took the pad of paper and grabbed one of the pencils. Instead of going to your desk you propped yourself up in your bed and leaned the sketch pad against your thighs. You looked around your room. You saw your closet that was ajar, an old trophy by your desk and a small bamboo plant. Nothing sparked any inspiration so you looked to Seungcheol. He had resorted to scrolling through his phone with one ear bud in and the other out. You began to draw your friend in his relaxed position. Before you knew it you already had the pose down, it just needed some details.

The only sounds of your room were pencil to paper and the occasional tap of a phone screen. Your drawing had come along well, illustration was always your strong suit. Seungcheol stood from his seat and walked over to you. He looked at the drawing and smiled.

“Is that what I look like to you?” He asked.

“What?” You continued to draw as you spoke. “It just looks like you.”

He snickered. “Maybe if I was in a comic or something. I think you made my jaw a bit too strong.”

“That’s what it looked like from my angle!”

Seungcheol’s brow rose. “I’ll keep that in mind whenever I’m getting my picture taken.”

You finished up the drawing with a bit of shading. It turned out better than you expected and so you quickly dated it and left the note ‘Thank you for clearing the art block’ . You tore the page out of the sketch pad and handed it to Seungcheol. 

“Keep it. If it stays here it will just be collecting dust.”

Seungcheol smiled as he looked at the drawing. He then leaned down and enveloped you in a warm hug.

“What’s this for?” You asked as you were being squeezed.

“Nothing. I just like seeing you create things.” He ruffled the hair on top of your head after he released you. “I’m going to head out now. My family is probably wondering where I am.”

You nodded your head in response. “Tell them I said Merry Christmas!”

Seungcheol gave you a two finger salute and a wink before he left your room. There was a light buzzing feeling all over you. Quality time with friends does do that to a person. You stood from your bed once more and walked over to the canvas you had previously covered. You unveiled the unfinished work and stared. 

It was a portrait. More of a recreation of a picture. It was of  you, Seungcheol and Seokmin. The picture you referenced was pinned on the side of the canvas. A picture from Seokmin’s eighteenth birthday. The front of his face was being lit by the warm candle light. The flames reflected in his deep brown eyes, adding a sparkle of pure joy. His face was the image of innocence as his cheeks were puffed out, ready to blow out the candles. Seokmin was always the complete opposite of you. Vibrant, colorful, a little silly, and just so unapologetically him. He saw the beauty in the world and was able to capture special moments with his camera. You had no such talent, you mostly saw the world as a bit dull and empty. That’s why you painted. You would rather create something fantastic and other worldly than see the world as it actually was.

You checked your clock, it was already half past four, Seungcheol stayed longer than he said he would. Slowly, you prepared yourself for work. The only thing that kept you moving was knowing that the shop would be pretty empty. No one goes last minute shopping in a coffee shop. 

Fortunately, your assumption was correct. There had to have been a total of ten people in the span of six hours. You rid yourself of your apron and grabbed your bag from the back of the shop. Even though it was the end of your shift you couldn’t help but tidy up a few things to help your co-workers close up. You bid the other two who were working a goodnight and a Merry Christmas, that phrase became tiresome by the end of the shift.

The bus stop was not far from the cafe, but you decided to take a stroll. Since it was Christmas Eve the bridge over the town's river would be decorated with fairy lights; it was always a sight to behold. You found your way to the bridge, a few couples were taking pictures though they soon passed by. The road was empty, not a single car in sight, just peace and quiet. You leaned over the bridge rail and stared up at the night sky, the moon was barely a sliver of light that peeked through gray clouds. 

The winter air was crisp and cool. It brought you peace as you closed our eyes and enjoyed the breeze. Something cool fell onto your face. As you opened your eyes you could see snow falling from the sky. You didn’t want to admit it but something as simple as a few snowflakes was able to put a smile on your face. 

-in

A voice? Something like a whisper. You looked around but saw no one.

Give in.

A shiver went down your spine yet it wasn’t because of the cold weather. You whipped your head around, looking in every direction, but there was no one to be seen. Not a single person was on this bridge, it was only you. A surprisingly strong breeze blew by and you ducked down to block your face. When you opened your eyes once more you were met with a dull glow from beyond the bridge. You let your vision refocus and the sight was clear as day. Something was under the water; a faint, blue glow under the current. 

Give in. Join us.

You heard the voice once more, a soothing whisper. It was so soft, you wished to hear more. Before your eyes, the river’s current began to swirl, the spectacle nearly placed you under a hypnotizing spell. 

 A sharp chirping broke you from your trance and a flash of yellow caught your eye; a simple song bird. 

The voice sang into your ears once more.

Join us. Fall. There will be no more pain.

All you remembered was falling over the edge, the rush of cold air and freezing water biting at your skin.

Something else called out to you but it was muffled. Through the surface of the water, you saw a figure staring down at you. They were saying something: a call for help? Or was it just your name? 

Darkness consumed you as you felt your last breath escape.

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[mixtapedoh]

gun to your head. top 5 svt songs 😤

first of all, how dare you?!?!?!?!??!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? second of all, how am i expected to respond?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!? this is hard. if the gun were to my head, i might simply bite the bullet, but you are my wife and so ofc i have no choice but to respond....

don't mock me

circles

lie again

don quixote

shadow

don't wanna cry

[airybcby]

The Garden Of You

❀ a/n - welcome to the garden of you masterlist! below are the links to the 7 parts of this series!

Every flower has a meaning. And every boy has a story that aches to be told.

There are things we can’t always say — so we leave them in the petals we press between pages, in the blooms we give without words.

Some are soft.

Some are fleeting.

Some were never meant to blossom.

But each one leads back to you — the one they never forgot.

Read between the petals.

This is where love lives.

❀ Seed 1: Daisy ── Y. Isagi

innocence, loyal love, new beginnings

જ⁀♡⊹｡° just put your sweet lips on my lips

❀ Seed 2: Red Rose ── R. Itoshi

passion, desire, love

જ⁀♡⊹｡° you were like an angel to me

❀ Seed 3: Cherry Blossom ── R. Shidou

the fleeting beauty of life, impermanence

જ⁀♡⊹｡° fallin' back into the hedge maze

❀ Seed 4: Sunflower ── R. Mikage

adoration, loyalty, devotion

❀ coming soon...

❀ Seed 5: Tulip ── T. Karasu

unrequited love, silent longing

❀ coming soon...

❀ Seed 6: Black Dahlia ── M. Kaiser

betrayal, power, forbidden beauty

❀ coming soon...

❀ Seed 7: Baby's Breath ── K. Yukimiya

everlasting love, purity, remembrance

❀ coming soon...

if you guys can't tell, i love things in sevens :)

i hope you're all ready to go on this new journey with me!

songs i used for title inspo

❀ like real people do by hozier - isagi yoichi

❀ unknown / nth by hozeir - rin itoshi

❀ guilty as sin by taylor swift - shidou ryusei

❀ sex on fire by kings of leon - reo mikage

❀ liability by lorde - karasu tabito

❀ the others coming soon...

⋆.˚✮ 2025 ©airybcby ✮˚.⋆

[m1ckeyb3rry]

MIRA WAIT HEAR ME OUT ON ROADKILL FOR LUOCHA (are you surprised?) literally just combed through that event post, also that sperm banner is sending me to the orbit TT hehe roadkill sounds like a banger i’m so excited to read the others too!! ❤︎

── WHERE PLUM FLOWERS BLOOM

Synopsis: You don't know it, but you love Luocha — or perhaps you've always known it, somehow, but it's only through the passage of time and his eventual departure that you realize just what he means to you.

HSR Masterlist

Divider: @/saradika-graphics

Pairing: Luocha x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Content Warnings: i forget if there's anything that makes this f!reader but possibly that, another nonsensical m1ckeyb3rry drop with 0 elaboration just vibes, idk anything about luocha i was just making it up #allinmyhead, mentions of blood and like. ritualistic abuse/injury (😭?) NOT TOO EXPLICIT THOUGH it's just mentioned, partially epistolary, luocha is down mf bad, in terms of characterization/worldbuilding/relationship development we have no characterization/worldbuilding/relationship development, uhm. i think that is sufficient lmk if i missed anything though

A/N: HELLO KOU and congrats on being the first request to escape development hell KSDHF thank you for sending an ask for my event!! hehe roadkill was going to be very screwy with concnurrent timelines and whatnot so instead of going for a 1:1 au thing i took that inspiration instead and made it a bit vague and whatnot 😪 i can only hope that i did not butcher your beloved...i have done my best KLSDHF

Dear Luocha,

It is strange, calling you that. To me you will always be someone else, someone with a dearer name, but if this is who you are now, then I must accept it — though I beg of you not to change anymore, lest you be unrecognizable entirely upon your return! Although, as you once said, there is a certain charm in that, in getting to know you entirely over again. Anyways, I am sure that at your heart of hearts you will always remain the same, so perhaps I should not fuss quite so much.

It is my sincerest hope that we may be reunited once more. There was much left unsaid upon our last meeting…but it is not something to be written in letters. Some discussions can only be had in person; I think this may be one such case, where the words cannot be found nor believed unless they are spoken. Though I know you always say you are ten times more eloquent on paper than aloud, so perhaps you would disagree; well, if that is what you will! But I shall keep my silence until you are before me once more.

Ever yours,

Y/N

You first met him ducked behind the marble walls of the church, standing on his tip-toes and extending his arm towards the laden boughs of a plum tree, resembling a bird on the brink of taking flight. For a moment you were still, watching as he plucked one of the riper fruits off the end of the branch, rolling it in between his fingers with an appreciative grunt, and then you took a single step towards him, crushing pink-white petals underfoot when you did.

His green eyes met yours at the instant his teeth broke the delicate skin of the plum, and panic sparked when he bit down, juice wetting his lips as he hastily chewed, swallowing that single morsel before tossing the entire fruit away and hiding his hands behind his back, bowing at you.

“My apologies,” he said. “I have been remiss. Did the teachers send you to collect me for our lessons? It isn’t a good excuse, I know, but it truly was a moment of distraction, nothing more.”

Even back then, he spoke with the cool, detached grace of a priest, though he was as lowly born as you. Unlike you, however, he had been bestowed with a divinity upon his birth, or so it seemed, and therefore at such a young age he had ascended to a status you would never reach.

You knew his name already, had heard it whispered throughout the shining capital a million times over, that pretty, delicate word which meant prince of lilies, and before you could stop yourself it was falling from your tongue. How sweet it tasted, how melancholy, and you said it again and once more for good measure, your eyes dropping to the purple stains upon his fingertips so that you could avoid his scrutiny.

“You come here to hide, right?” you said, surprising yourself with your boldness. His hands curled into fists disguised by the flowing fabric of his white robes, but you saw them, saw the way his tendons flexed momentarily, and for some reason felt entirely relieved by the fleeting display of humanity. “I won’t tell them.”

“You won’t?” he said dubiously. You shook your head. He regarded you carefully, and then he nodded, beckoning you closer. You did so at once, caught up in the lily-scented headiness of his presence, and when he dropped a plum in your hand, your fingers curled over it instinctively. “Good.”

“Good?” you said. He smiled, and you could tell based on the slowness of its dawning that it was not something he did readily nor frequently, so you were quick to return it with one of your own.

“Yes, it’s good,” he said. “Thank you…Y/N.”

It didn’t occur to you for many days that you had never told him what your name was, and by then the time for asking had long since passed, so you were left to forget the topic, except on those days when he was very close, his breath fluttering over your collarbones as you thought to yourself that there must’ve been a meaning to it all, one that you might be able to discern upon further consideration but did not yet dare to.

Dear Luocha,

Sometimes, I wonder what the weather must be like where you are. Is it sunny, or is it raining? I hope that you are in the kind of place that is in an eternal springtime, for I know you have never been fond of the cold, no matter how brave of a face you put forth. I am sure you are laughing in that way of yours — and if you are not, humor me as if you are, alright? — at such a childish notion. What sort of a place is forever caught in the time when flowers first bloom? It is unrealistic and bizarre, but I think it would make you happy, so you mustn’t blame me for imagining.

I am so frightened. In the worst of my dreams, those flowers are bullets and you are surrounded by hellfire and I do not know when I will see you again and I worry, I do worry…The baker was selling plum tarts the other day. I thought of you but did not buy one. 

Ever yours,

Y/N

He was more mischievous than he let on, more mischievous than one of such a controlled voice and refined stature ought to be. You first learned of this proclivity when skipping your afternoon lessons and sitting where the shadows of the plum tree and the church intersected went from a coincidence to a habit; he was incorrigible, really, always encouraging you to stay at his side for a minute longer, to braid ribbons and weeds into the locks of gold which were beginning to spill over his shoulders, in accordance with the holy customs of the land.

“They mean to make me one of their priests some day,” he said, lying with his head in your lap and his eyes closed. A butterfly rested on the tip of his nose, flapping its wings lazily with every breath he took. The first time such a thing had happened, you had been awed, but now you did not bat an eye, for such occurrences were common with him.

“Haven’t they always?” you said, twirling the ends of his hair around your index finger. “You were born for such a role.”

“Maybe,” he said, turmoil flashing over his face, darkening it in the way thunderclouds darkened even the loveliest of sunsets. 

“You don’t want it?” you guessed. He chuckled.

“Am I so obvious?” he said.

“Only to me,” you said. “But that comes as no surprise.”

“No,” he said. “No, I suppose it doesn’t.”

Dear Luocha,

You might tease me, but I am realizing more and more that you were the only person that mattered to me I could consider a friend. Oh, I can picture how you would snort at that now, but it really is the case. I miss you more and more with each day that passes…but I should not bore you with the trivial details of my longing!

How have you been? I haven’t received any letters from you in some time. I ask the postmaster nearly every day — I think he has your address memorized at this point! My parents are asking after you as well, though of course they call you by your other name, your true one, and they still believe you are on some great pilgrimage instead of fighting in this senseless war. Maintaining such a lie is difficult, especially to my mother, who has always been so discerning, but I have not failed you yet, and I do not plan on doing so in the future.

Ever yours,

Y/N

Watching them break his spirit was difficult, perhaps the most difficult thing you had borne unwilling witness to. You yourself had been assigned to an archival position in the church upon graduating with mediocre grades — there had never been any hopes that you would grow to be someone of note, and you had lived up to the expectations placed before you entirely and without complaint. You had no interest in being important or highly regarded, not when you saw what it did to him, not when there was still sun and summer to live for. 

A priest’s life amounted to a gilt of austerity painted over a heartwood that was rotting away from hedonism. Yet he was not like that, he was a verdant herb or a pale flower, and so he was too malleable to break, too incorruptible, ignoring their cajoling and bribery with the resolute dignity of a martyred saint. 

But of course there were other ways to convince a man, and so he would come to you in that place secluded from the world, marks littering the twin apples of his cheeks, turning them faded and blue and mottled, the sigils branded into his forehead reddening into scars that would only vanish when he complied.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he told you one day, your collar clenched in his fist, the skin over his knuckles split in shapes referring to the king of the gods. His eyes burned green and violent as they bored into yours, and droplets of blood welled in their corners, threatening to fall if he so much as blinked. “Isn’t that funny? They are remaking me in their image, and it doesn’t even hurt.”

You wanted to tell him that it hurt you, that you ached for him, every lacerating rune on his arm burning into your throat as he explained to you what each meant with the flat detachment of a professor, as if the two of you were reading from a textbook instead of the very veins that ran along the angle of his elbow. But that hardly made sense, because your skin remained unmarred and your blood unspilled, so you didn’t say anything to the effect.

“I don’t want you to be remade,” you said instead, quietly and softly. “I want you to stay the same. I want you to stay as you are.”

“I don’t have a choice,” he said, and abruptly every righteous emotion blazing within him was extinguished and he slumped forward. “No matter what I do, I will become someone different. Whether I accept my fate or run from it, I cannot remain the person you met for much longer.”

“You can,” you said weakly, and when he tucked his face against the crook of your neck, your fingers tangled in his hair of their own volition. “Please. Don’t become someone I don’t know.”

You felt more than heard him snickering, his amusement dry and sardonic. You frowned, and though he had no way of knowing, he shifted and exhaled in what you knew amounted to an apology.

“If I ever become someone you don’t know, I’ll reintroduce myself to you, and you can meet me again,” he murmured. “I might be twisted and bent and wrong in some places, but whatever is left of me, you can learn at your leisure. Is that some consolation?”

“As long as you promise you will come back to me,” you said.

“No one can change me enough not to,” he said. “Not the church and not the world.”

Dear Luocha,

Dozen eggs

Bag of flour

Fruit (which is in season?)

Yarn (sweater needs mending, check color)

My apologies, I have used this letter as a bit of a shopping list. I hope you do not mind it; I don’t have anything more interesting to say, so it’s for the best, anyways. If you are reading this, please write back with any suggestions you might have for my next trip to the market.

Ever yours,

Y/N

He kissed you only once, the day after they scrawled incantations over his heart and told him it was theirs now. Your back was to the plum tree, his hand cradling the nape of your neck so that it received the brunt of the bark’s ire in lieu of the slivers of skin exposed by your uniform. He loomed over you, surprisingly intimidating, wearing a halo of afternoon sun and a cloak of autumn wind, nigh-seraphic in both stature and countenance.

His free hand guided yours to cover the place where the verses came to a full stop before he moved his lips against your own, and it was strange, for you had always imagined him to taste sweet like the fruit he preferred, but it was salt and bruise and gunmetal that invaded your mouth like a foreign entity, tracing along your tongue and heaving, panting, desperate and unsure.

Only when he drew back did you pull your hand from his chest, catching your breath while he did the same. Your palm came away bloody, the red shimmering with a preternatural, blessed power, and before you could stop it, your eyes widened in horror. 

You wiped it off on the grass in a hurry, and neither of you spoke of the day again.

Dear Luocha,

They say the war will be over soon. Is that true? Does that mean you will be home soon? I have heard many details of your exploits, which is the only reason I am not more worried than I already am. They speak of a swan-warrior with a silver sword and eyes like cold gemstones, who fights with the grace of a bird and the delicacy of a blossom. It is you, I am sure of it, though no one else would ever consider such a thing. The next High Priest, vanished to study the ways of the blade…after everything they did to carve you in their image, it would be akin to spitting in their faces. They still think you are absorbed in meditation at the sunken temples; how foolish they are, how naive, how certain of themselves and their powers. 

All of them walk around with such swagger and pride, so assured that they managed to turn even you into one of their meek little sheep. It is all I can do to fight back a smile, for I alone know that you have flown far from this place, and whatever becomes of you now, it will be your own choice, not theirs. 

Ever yours,

Y/N

There was no moon in the sky on the day he left the city. His irises reflected the torchlight as he told you in hushed tones that he meant to change his name and join the army, to fight against the invading armies that infested your borders like swarming insects.

“Why?” you said. “Since when have you been a patriot?”

“I have no particular love for our nation,” he said. “But the idea of freedom, of suffering, even of death…I am so fascinated by it. These things that our professors and priests hid from us all our lives, I want to experience them, I want to imbue their essences into my being so thoroughly that I cannot unknow them no matter how hard I try.”

“I see. But what will the elders think? They won’t let you go without a fight, you must know that,” you said. When he was like this, there was no point in arguing. So rarely was he stubborn that on those few occasions he was, it was a proper and impossible obstacle to overcome; you had long ago learnt that there was no sense in even attempting. The only recourse was logical and careful consideration of his argument — for this was another thing, too, there was always a reasoning to it all, and usually said reasoning was flawless in the way of a knifepoint, inevitably swaying you to his side.

“I’ve already left them a letter saying that I was called to the sunken temples to meditate on the future of this war. They will be delighted that I have finally allowed the whispers of the divine to take shape in my mind, so they won’t question it in the slightest,” he said promptly, and when, as usual, you could not find fault in it, you sighed, squeezing your eyes closed so you didn’t have to look at him.

“You will be careful, won’t you?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “And I’ll write to you as often as I can.”

“Every day?” you said.

“If the postmaster permits,” he said. “Though I’ll have to change my name; mine is too distinctive at present. I’ll make sure it’s something you recognize, though.”

“Okay,” you said, a sorry, pathetic lump forming in your throat. “Okay,  as long as — as long as I know it’s you.”

“Would you forget me that easily?” he said. You shook your head, immediately and furiously, and this prompted a gentle hum from him. “Don’t mourn me while I still walk this earth; save your sorrow for when I am departed.”

“Okay,” you said again, because if you said anything further, you were afraid you would not be able to maintain your cool facade, and if that happened then you would be lost entirely, a fumbling, feeble child in the dark of the night.

There was a silence, and then the silk of his gloves brushed against your cheek. You bit your tongue and tried to think only of the patterns bursting behind your eyelids — spiderwebs, cracks in cobblestone, the thin arteries of leaves, anything but him and how tenderly he lingered even as the window for his chance at fleeing grew narrower and narrower.

“You won’t open your eyes?” he said. You shook your head wordlessly, slowly at first but then faster, faster, and it took every bit of strength you had not to chase after his wrist and cling to it when he moved back. “If that is what you want. Farewell, Y/N.”

“Farewell,” you stammered out. There was something else begging to be said, both of you knew it, but neither of you had that bravery, that wherewithal, and so it could only hang in between you both, nearly tangible in its weight yet refusing to properly coalesce for good. “Don’t leave me for too long.”

Don’t leave me at all.

Only when his footsteps grew faint did you open your eyes, and only when you were sure he would not turn around did you allow your lower lip to tremble unchecked. As the white tails of his coat vanished from your view, you began to weep, and you hated yourself for it, but you could not stop yourself from wrapping your arms around your torso and rocking yourself, wondering who he would be if you ever had the chance to see him again, wondering if you had squandered your last glimpse at the man you — at the man you —

Dear Luocha,

The longer you are gone, the harder it is for me to remember the person I met in the shade of that plum tree. The exact shade of your eyes…the way you smiled…the scent of your clothes after you washed them…day by day, you become more ‘Luocha’ and less the man I grew up with. When I think of you now, it is in abstract images, in the click of the typewriter and the sting of a papercut. I miss you and I do not even know what, exactly, it is that I miss.

Supposedly the war is over and those who fought will come home soon. It has been some time since I last heard from you, and even longer since you wished me farewell on the street that night; the rest of the world has kept moving, but I alone remain frozen in place. My parents think I should wed soon, for I am nearing the age for such things, and maybe they would be right in calling me unreasonable for refusing — however, they do not know the truth which I have steadfastly kept from you thus far but cannot fathom hiding any longer: I love you. Isn’t that such a stereotypical thing? Go on, then. Laugh all you want, but I do. I love you, and I regret that I never told you, that I only realized when it was too late to do anything about it but bawl to myself in a most sniveling, unbecoming way.

Come back. Allow me to cry and tell you these things and humiliate myself entirely; let me learn you again at my leisure, as you once promised I could; tell me who you are now, if you are Luocha or someone else entirely; hate me or love me in return, whichever you please. But come back.

Ever yours,

Y/N

Dear Y/N,

Eloquence is my Well, I have always You don’t I am trying, but the words How have you stolen this from me? I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.will be home soon. 

Ever yours,

Luocha A person who will always come back to you

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

Sweet as Sugarcane

Chapter 6: Castile and Chamomile (!!!)

Agatha Harkness x Fem!reader Old West/Oregon Trail AU

Word count: 2,363

Summary: As a New York politician's daughter, you're accustomed to a way of life that many people aren't privy to. But after your mother dies and your father sells everything, the only life you see ahead is on a dusty, deserted trail out west--until you meet Agatha.

Warnings: internalized homophobia and, at last, smut; very soft smut, soft Agatha, loss of virginity, fingering (both receiving), oral (R receiving)

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Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 |

The ride back down is slower than the ride up was, but this time, you sit in front, leaning against Agatha as she holds the reins. You can feel her breathing, chest rising and falling slowly against your back.

It’s quiet and you almost doze off until you hear her chuckle, “You fallin’ asleep on me?”

“No,” you say, unconvincing, and she snickers again. “Are we going back to town?” you ask quietly, dreading the moment you have to leave her.

“Actually, I was thinkin’ you smell like beer,” she says. “And I can’t have you goin’ back to your kin smellin’ like that.”

“So–?”

“So,” she continues, “you could use a bath. I’ll take you to my home first and then I’ll get you back to your little camp.”

Her home.

She’s taking you to her home.

And she does just that. 

On the outskirts of the town, amidst the scattered houses, is her quaint home. It’s made of wood and stone like the many other houses and out in the front yard, a fence closes in a chicken coop. As you approach closer, you can just make out a horse in the back, fenced in like chickens but roaming around and grazing on hay.

When you dismount the horse, she guides it back into the pasture and removes the tack before rejoining you and escorting you into her home. It’s small, with a narrow staircase leading to a loft where you assume her bed is. The downstairs is a kitchen with a dining table and a hearth with two rocking chairs nearby.

It’s a house that you’re far from used to–the floors are wood but they’re dingy and have scuff marks, and the walls are almost completely bare, save for the dried herbs that hang by the hearth and the nails that stick out by the back door that hold another leather jacket. It’s cute and it’s cozy and warm. There’s nothing fragile, nothing you have to be careful around. You have no cause for anxiety in this home. 

Agatha hangs her hat on a hook and lights a gas lamp before she builds a small fire in the kitchen hearth. You follow her upstairs like a lost puppy, trailing close behind and watching her light another fire in that hearth before pushing the small tin bath tub in front.

“Alright,” she huffs. “I have a water pump out back so it shouldn’t take too long to fill. Just sit tight, sweetheart.” And before she leaves, she gives you a parting gift of a kiss on your cheek.

With your face burning and Agatha gone, you look around the dimly lit room. The clock on the hearth reads almost one o’clock and just seeing that makes your eyes grow heavy. Agatha is in and out of the house about ten times and by the time she’s done, it’s almost one-thirty.

You remove your boots, skirt, and blouse and when you’re left in your underdress you pause, reluctant and apprehensive. Then you think back to Agatha’s words: “You don’t need to be terrified. Not here. Not with me.”

You face away from her and slowly remove it, leaving your back and naked form exposed. Stepping into the bath, the water is warmer than expected, and you pull your knees to your chest. Agatha, with her chaps and jacket on a chair in the corner of the room, takes your clothing and drapes it over a chair in front of the fire.

She crouches down beside the tub and then gasps, “I’ll be right back.” She comes back quickly with a wooden bowl filled with dried white flowers. “Chamomile,” she smiles. 

���Why the chamomile?” you ask.

“Well, I figure a girl like you is used to a certain standard. And the last thing I’d want to do is disappoint you,” Agatha says, winking after.

You notice a bar of castile soap in her hand. “And castile? Where did you get that?” you ask, surprised to see a bar of castile in this tiny town.

“Don’t look so surprised, darlin’,” she chuckles, dumping the bowl of chamomile into the bath. “New York City isn’t the only place with soapers.”

“No, I know–I just–”

She smiles at you, amused, “I’m just teasing, sweetheart.” 

There’s genuine care in her eyes when Agatha takes the bowl and dunks it in the water, pouring it over your head and repeating. Taking a rag, she wraps it around the castile soap and dips it in the water, lathering it between the fabric of the cloth. 

She gently drags the rag across your upper back, down your shoulders and to your collarbones. It’s quiet and intimate, and it sends your heart racing. You look at her, admiring every wrinkle, every freckle, every sign of aging that makes her even more beautiful up close.

“You’re staring…” she mutters, a teasing lilt to her words.

You smile and lean back against the tub as she brings the cloth down your arm. “I can’t help it.”

She hums and pours water over your arms, eyeing you carefully. “So, no beau?”

“Hm?”

Agatha sits up and looks directly at you, leaning on the tub and giving you a lazy grin. “Am I stealing you from some handsome young man with a heavy dowry?”

“I don’t think it’s stealing if I willingly go with you,” you counter softly, smiling as you watch her grow red. “But to answer your question, no. There is no beau…I did have one. And yes, we did take walks by the Hudson.”

She avoids your gaze, clearly flustered by your first response, and continues her motions of washing your legs and dragging the rag up to your chest. “And what happened to the fella?”

“I gave him the ring back,” you say softly. “He thought I had too many ‘ideas’ and that I was too stubborn and arrogant…” You hum in amusement. “Too educated I suppose…I’m twenty-nine. Any offer of marriage I receive is out of pity or social gain…but I don’t want to be desired out of pity,” you say, making gentle eye contact with her when she sits up. “I want to be desired out of love and adoration.”

She pauses, keeping eye contact as the rag lingers over your clavicle. You’re inches from each other and she exhales softly, looking down to your lips and back up at your eyes. She searches them carefully, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you mutter, leaning in to meet her in the middle. Agatha’s lips are soft and welcoming and her grip on the rag loosens, letting it drop into the bath. 

Her hand moves from your clavicle to the side of your neck, her thumb softly stroking the skin beneath it. You hold her wrist and when your other leaves the warm embrace of the bath to reach out for her, you splash water all over her and the floor.

When you giggle she takes the opportunity to slip her tongue in your mouth. You move closer, turning to face her properly and deepen the kiss. Around you, water sloshes against the sides of the tin basin, landing on the floor around Agatha, and as you become increasingly frustrated by the barrier between you, you slowly start to stand.

She follows you up, holding you close despite the water falling from your bare skin. You stumble out of the bath and she supports you with a strong arm around your waist. 

Her fingers dig into your hips, gliding smoothly over the skin and up your ribs where loose chamomile flowers stick. Your fingers begin to undo the buttons on the back of her damp blouse and Agatha pulls away, cupping your cheeks softly and looking you deep in the eyes. “Are you sure you want to continue?” she asks, her voice low and filled with concern.

“I…”

You have no idea where this hunger has come from. It feels so wrong. You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be giving into the lust that fogs your better judgement.

But, still, you give her a confident, “Yes.” You breathe heavily against her mouth before she takes you again, helping you with the buttons without removing her lips from yours.

With her boots off and her trousers following shortly after, she gently tips you back on her bed. It’s unkempt, the sheets and quilt askew from the previous night, but it brings a sense of comfort as the smell of her overtakes your senses.

The room grows hot quickly. From the fire in the hearth, to the close proximity of you and Agatha, both of you are tasting sweat as your lips ravish each other. The hair on your arms sticks up with each sensation–the cool feeling of your wet hair pressing into the back of your head, Agatha’s lips skimming over yourbreasts and down your ribs, how her finger tips dance over the delicate skin of your hip. 

It’s an overwhelming and all-consuming feeling, and you’re trembling when her tongue drags up your inner thigh. 

“Breathe,” she whispers, looking up at you and taking your hand to lace her fingers with yours.

You look down at her and take a deep breath.

“That’s it,” she mutters. “Good girl.”

Her words send a rush of heat through you and when her tongue finally meets your slit, you let out a shaky exhale, tightening your hold on her hand. Her tongue works in meticulous patterns and her lips suck hard, your mind spiraling into the pits of bliss. 

Agatha’s finger slide into you easily, and she relishes in the way gasp, arching your back into her touch. 

“Agatha–!” You’re cut off with a sharp gasp as her tongue and fingers work together. “Oh–Oh my god!”

With her fingers still working, she crawls up slowly, placing soft kisses on you along the way. Her lips capture yours in a feverish kiss and your hands fly to her hair as her thumb finds your clit. 

The feeling is like no other you had ever felt. It’s so overwhelming, so unfamiliar, so…so good. Your hand reaches behind you and grasps the ironwire bedframe. You struggle to speak, your words coming out in short gasps as the blinding feeling of your relief barrels closer.

“Agatha!” you cry. “I–I don’t–Oh, God!”

Her lips brush yours, both of you breathing heavily into one another’s mouth as her fingers come to your forehead and brush away damp strands of hair. She kisses you hard before pulling away and giving you a reassuring smile. “Keep going, sweetheart,” she huffs. “Don’t hold back, you’re doing so well…”

Tears form in the corners of your eyes, slowly trickling down your temples and into already damp baby hairs. You tremble at her praise and your finger dig into her back as the intense, unfamiliar feeling of your relief finally washes over you.

Your body squirms, writhing with pleasure, but Agatha holds you close, cradling you in her arms and whispering sweet praises in your ear. She kisses you softly before dropping to her side next to you and gathering you in her arms.

After haphazardly pulling the bedding over you, Agatha’s lips are back on yours shortly after, and your own hands begin to roam her body. Her leg rests on your hip and your hand trails down her chest, brushing over her breasts and down her abdomen. At the feeling of your fingers grazing over her hips, she inhales sharply and you feel her shiver.

“Someone’s sensitive,” you mutter, grinning at the way her hands tighten on your waist.

She huffs into your mouth, chuckling, “Shut up…now kiss me.”

You obey with a smile and continue your way down. When your fingers slide through her folds, she sighs into the kiss, but you have no clue what to do.

“Tell me what to do,” you whisper. “Tell me how to please you, Agatha.”

She smiles softly and takes your hand, guiding it up just a bit. “Right there, sweetheart. Keep your fingers right there.”

You move your fingers in slow circles and then up and down, guaging Agatha’s reaction. Keeping eye contact with you, her hand guides you down, “Good, now down here…slowly…that’s it…”

You curl your fingers and her hand leaves your wrist to rest on your cheek. “Faster now. You’re doing so well,” Agatha huffs, kissing you hard. “Keep going, don’t stop.” Her leg tightens around your hip as she grinds against your hand, and you feel a sense of pride as she struggles to kiss you back. 

When her hand flies to your back, nails digging into the skin, she lets out a loud moan and pulls you in closer. “Fuck!” she cries. “Don’t–Oh my god!”

You continue fucking her through her orgasm, not letting up until she’s panting and reaches down to still your hand. Agatha lets out a breathy laugh and kisses you. She brings your hand back up, kissing the digits and lacing your hands together before kissing your lips.

“You are magnificent,” she sighs. Sleep is heavy on her eyes, but it does nothing to the deep sentiment and tenderness bleeding from them.

You don’t respond, instead pressing light kisses to her hand–the back, to the palm, down to her wrist. Her eyes flutter shut and you watch quietly as sleep overtakes her, legs relaxing with yours and the hand on your waist going limp.

The clock on the mantle shows that it’s almost three in the morning.

Your heart aches and you wish you could do everything in your power to freeze this moment–to stop time from moving forward, to keep the woman in front of you in your arms forever. 

You struggle to keep your eyes open. You know you should get up, you know you should leave. You fend off sleep, but the sound of the crackling fire and Agatha’s steady breathing becomes the sweetest lullaby to exist. And in the warmth of her arms, with both of you tangled in the patchwork quilt, you come to the realization that this is where you’re meant to be. 

So you surrender. 

You let your eyes close.

And you welcome the gentle embrace of sleep.

[maddogofshimano]

Hello! Seeing this blog was an insta-follow. JW, did u do a translation somewhere of…whatever this is? https://youtu.be/tfAqq15hv5s?si=xXzvWG1ImZ_qGGGb

I’d love to know what she’s saying, I’m scraping and scrounging for more Goromi content. There *is* a translation in the comments section, but it’s worded strangely…

hey thanks!! I am waaaaaaaaay less confident in translating spoken stuff, especially with Goromi's wildly fluctuating accent and general screeching but at one point I did go through and do some of the easier ones. however!! a kind soul has transcribed everything in the comments since the last time I checked so I'm doing this proper now. under a cut because it got long lol

italics is Goromi dropping into the masc Majima-style voice

0:00 どーもー ゴロ美でーす。真島? あ? 誰やそれ つべこべ言わんと はよドンペリ入れんかい! Hiii I'm Goromi. Majima? Huh? Don't talk about whoever that is, hurry up and bring out the Dom Perignon! 0:13 はぁあん 仕事もできる女 それがゴ・ロ・美 またモテてまうわぁ はぁ 参るなぁ Haaa~ A woman can do work too. That's Go - ro - mi. She'll be popular again. Haa~ Give me a call~ 0:28 めっちゃジロジロ見られたわぁ 嫌やわぁ セクハラちゃうー? I'm gettin' stared at so much. I don't like it. Is this sexual harassment? 0:35 よっしゃー! 暴れるでぇお前らー! All right! I'm gonna go ballistic on you all! 0:39 あ? パンツ見えてる? だからなんやねん Huh? Ya can see my panties? Watch where you're lookin'! 0:46 あーあ 早う桐生ちゃん来んかのぉー Ahhhh… won't Kiryu-chan hurry up~? 0:53 なんや 俺は安い女とちゃうで　 What is it? I ain't a cheap gal. 0:59 あ? パンツ見えてる? いやーんこのドスケベー 目ん玉くり抜いたろかぁ! Ya can see my panties? Ooooh ya perv~! I'll gouge out your fuckin' eyes!* 1:08 いやーん ええ飲みっぷりやないかぁ ちょっと見直したでぇ Oooh, you seem like ya can hold your drink~ I'm startin' to come around on ya~ 1:16 うち 強い奴が好きやねん うちを その気にさせたいんならぁ 殺す気で来いやぁ! Me, I like strong guys. If ya want me to like you… then ya better come at me like ya want me dead!* 1:27 やだ ゴロ美ったらドキドキしてる 気に入ったでぇ おぉ! ドス持ってこいやぁ! いっちょやり合おうやないかー! No way, ya got Goromi's heart all flutterin'. Oh! This is perfect for my dagger! Time to fight!" 1:39 うちも一杯もらってええか? 今日はなんだか飲みたい気分やねん Is it alright if I get one too? Today I'm in the mood to drink. 1:48 はい どーぞっ! ゴロ美特性 ゲロマズカクテルやでぇ なぁ 飲めや Here you go! Goromi's special super yucky cocktail! …Hey, drink it. 1:57 桐生ちゃん 驚くやろなぁ Kiryu-chan's a surprisin' guy~ 2:01 ゴロ美 ドキドキしちゃう You're gonna make Goromi's heart flutter.* 2:04 うちが ナンバーワンキャバ嬢 ゴロ美や 覚えときー I'm the number one cabaret girl Goromi, ya better remember that. 2:12 ヒーヒッヒヒヒー 惚れても知らんでぇ Hehehehee not my fault if you're fallin' for me~* 2:16 ますますべっぴんになってくでぇ I'm becoming more and more beautiful~ 2:20 奇麗なバラには トゲがあるんやでぇ A beautiful rose still has its thorns. 2:26 魔性の女 それがゴロ美やでぇ Goromi, a woman with a devilish nature~ 2:31 ゴロ美の新たな魅力 感じてやぁ Experience Goromi's fresh new glamor. 2:36 ふぉーん なかなか見どころあるやないかぁ ま、けどアフターはお預けや There's a lot of good things to see, aren't there? Well, that will have to wait for the after hours date. 2:45 やるやないかぁ へえぇ ゴロ美アフター権 進呈したるわ このボケがぁ! Well it can't be helped. I'm presentin' ya with the rights to an after hours date with Goromi. Ya dumb ass! 2:56 ご指名 おおきに Thank ya for requestin' me.* 2:59 男女がやる事いうたらー 喧嘩しかないやろがぁ! There's a thing that men and women do together… They fight each other! 3:06 か弱いレディーに 何するんじゃボケェ! This weak lady, what the hell are ya doin' to her, idiot! 3:10 あかーん そんなんじゃゴロ美は濡れへんでぇ! Siiiilly, that kind of thing won't get Goromi wet! (tl note: I……………………. I feel like there's something I'm misreading here. but. turns out I'm not!!) 3:14 当店はお触り禁止じゃぁ! We don't allow touching in this establishment!!! 3:17 野暮な男は嫌いやでぇ! I hate men with no manners!!

(tl note: the rest of these are various battle callouts) 3:24 ボトル入りまーす! Bottle comin' through! 3:26 これ うちの名刺! Here's… my business card! 3:30 ゴロ美に惚れたら 火傷するでぇ! If ya fall for Goromi… You're gonna get burned! 3:35 お客様は神様 なわけあるかボケェ! The customer is king… what a stupid idea! 3:41 イーヒッヒヒヒー 太客認定したるわぁ! Eeehehehehee, I just bagged a big spender! 3:46 シャンパン入りまーす! Champagne comin' through! 3:49 花は いつか散るんやでぇ Flowers will… always scatter… 3:54 終わりがあるから 美しいんやでぇ Because they must end… They are beautiful… 4:01 またのご来店 お待ちしてまーす! We look forward to seeing you agaaaaiiiin! 4:05 はぁ うちをもっと燃えさす奴はおらんのかいなぁ Haaa… is there no one left who can get me fired up? 4:11 ゴロ美の「み」は 皆殺しの「み」じゃぁ! The "mi" in "Goromi" is… from the "mi" in "minagoroshi"! (tl note: wholesale slaughter) 4:16 稼ぎ時を逃さん女 それがゴロ美じゃボケェ! Goromi, a woman who's never let a chance to make a profit escape her! 4:23 ヒヒッ ゴロ美 ほてってきたでぇ Hehe, Goromi's burnin' hot! 4:29 ヒヒッ 延長やぁ 当たり前やろ! Hehe, an extension. Obviously! (tl note: for using a continue in a fight) 4:36 ごっついのぉ Real strong, huh… (tl note: for losing)

whew! as usual if I fucked something else please tell me some of this stuff gets real in the weeds. all I can do is my best

thanks again for the follow and for suggesting this! I'm real glad I took another look, that minagoroshi line really made me laugh. unrelated to Goromi but I'll have a new event up in a week or so because the one going on right now is so incredibly funny to me. it's a Saejima event. look forward to it * Edit: a couple of line corrections thanks to @imustbenuts Thank you again!!!

[svttaeri]

⭒˗ˏˋ𓆩 ✩ 𓆪ˎˊ˗⭒ . . . 𝙎𝙊𝙉𝙂 𝘾𝙍𝙀𝘿𝙄𝙏𝙎 🪽

𝙎𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙀𝙉 ───

shining dimond (17 carat), mansae (boys be), rock (boys be), hit song (love&letter), say yes (love&letter), NO F.U.N (love&letter), boom boom (going seventeen), fast pace (going seventeen), smile flower (going seventeen), highlight (going seventeen), don't listen in secret (going seventeen), crazy in love (al1), habit (al1), lilili yabbay (teen, age), flower (teen, age), without (teen, age), change up (teen, age), pinwheel (teen, age), campfire (teen, age), thanks (director's cut), thinking about you (director's cut), run to you (director's cut), falling for you (director's cut), call call call (we make you), our dawn is hotter than a day (you make my day), moonwalker (you make my day), oh my (you make my day), come to me (you make my day), good to me (you made my dawn), happy ending (happy ending), lie again (an ode), fallin flower (fallin flower), fearless (heng:garæ), kidult (heng:garæ), home;run (semicolon), ah!love (semicolon), do re mi (semicolon), wave (your choice), i can't run away (attacca), imperfect love (attacca), pang! (attacca), darl+ing, ash (face the sun), shadow (face the sun), bout you (face the sun), _world (sector 17), f*ck my life (fml), april shower (fml), dust (fml), sara sara (always yours), dream (always yours), sos (seventeenth heaven), diamond days (seventeenth heaven), spell (17 is right here), ima (17 is right here), rain (spill the feels), 1 to 13 (spill the feels)

𝙎𝙊𝙇𝙊 ───

bon voyage (ethereal voyage), so bad (ethereal voyage), imaginary friend (ethereal voyage), luna (ethereal voyage), mago (ethereal voyage), butterfly (ethereal voyage), starry night (ethereal voyage), easy (ethereal voyage)

𝙊𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙎 ───

dilemma (apink), under the skin (&team), better things (aespa), given-taken (enhypen), my satisfaction (ive), wave (ive), better than gold (nct dream), same scent (oneus), beautiful monster (stayc), bad news (tempest), opening sequence (txt), deja vu (txt), nice guy (bnd), orbit (minghao)

[the-morningstar-family]

Lucifer do try to make sure Alastor takes a break every once in a while, pregnancy isn't easy

Both parents have been on the phone's the whole morning. The deer obviously chose old rotary phones.

Alastor just hung up on a most difficult lady doing the flower arrangement. But before he can have some respite, Theodora is standing before him, arms crossed. Oh no, Alastor knows that look.

Alastor: “... I am not exactly sure what I have done to warrant such a look”

Theodora: “Y'a seen de clock, dear?”

He actually hadn't keeping track of time, he glances at the clock, 1:20pm. Hm, high time to prepare lunch.

Alastor, sighing: “Yes you're right, I'll be right on that. The children need their food-”

The woman softens.

Theodora: “It's ‘bout you too, dear. You got little ones cookin’ in dere, don’t you forget it! You gotta eat, or you gonna be fallin' down like a chicken in a pot!”

Alastor: “My weight gain has been perfectly adequate, I'll have you know.”

She frowns even deeper, he regrets talking back instantly.

Theodora: “If you keep on like this, t'won't stay like dat! Get on up! We fixin' to make lunch.”

Alastor: “Yes Mama”

Once they agree upon a recipe, they work in synch like always. Watching them cooking is mesmerizing. At least Lucifer, who's secretly watching from behind the doorway does. He doesn't want to interrupt him.

Theodora: “Your man thinks he’s slick”

Alastor: “Let him, he needs enrichment”

They joke low enough that the king doesn't hear, only their soft snickering reaches his ears. a few more cuts, and the woman glances at the ever turning clock again.

Theadora: “Y'know what I told ya 'bout keepin' a good schedule?”

Alastor: “Yes, yes- I didn't mean to forget. I am not usually letting time fly away.”

She frowns, speaking up louder now.

Theodora: “Lucifer, dear, come on in here, y'hear?”

The king is startled. Instantly nervous. But he obliges, stepping into the kitchen which is slowly filling with a lovely scent.

Theodora: “I know y’all busy, but you gotta jot down a plan. Both of ya togetha. And y’all better stick to it.”

Alastor: “We can, but we should wait until -”

Theodora: “You faint 'cause you don't eat? Non, chérie, you gonna jot somethin' down dis evenin'!”

Lucifer: “Yeah, we can do that. Writing a schedule shouldn't take too long, should it?”

Alastor: “... Fine. Yes.”

Theadora: “Dat’s what I like t’hear!”

A smile spreads on her face that makes Alastor's own soften so that

they match. He doesn't want to ever miss it again, he's unsure if he could take that. Probably not.

For now he doesn't have to think about it.

[reborn-in-my-limbo]

as promised, here are my thoughts on seventeen's discography:

best full album: face the sun: seventeen really just keeps getting better and better, and i will never get tired of their ambitious rock sound mixed seamlessly with softer, bouncy tunes.

top three mini albums: 3. you make my day: oh my! was the first title track of theirs that i remember putting on repeat, also holiday and our dawn is hotter than day are top tier b-sides. 2. FML: f*ck my life is incredible and it also has idubilu and fire. super lived in my mind rent free and was on repeat for a solid month, i wasn't even really a carat anymore by then. 1. heng:garæ: you would have to pry this album out of my cold, dead hands it is my BABY. half the album makes me cry and the other half makes me giggle. there's so much whimsy present in those 21 minutes (aside from fearless, that just goes harder than it has any right to) that i can't help but memorialize this shit.

top three title tracks: 3. fear: two words: YOON JEONGHAN. this was his song and i don't want to hear any complaints. he's a crooner, let. him. cook! joshua was out here making points too, and you KNOW that i can't talk about fear without mentioning vernon's three seconds to save the industry with those hips that most certainly do NOT lie. 2. CLAP: i just love s.coups, this was his song. joshua's gwaenchana gwaenchana ireon ildeul manchana was iconic af as well. i mentioned in my last post that i love a good rock sound and this track never fails to boost my mood, which i've found myself in need of lately. 1. rock with you: ah yes, the first k-pop release that i ever stayed up for. the song is beautiful, the mv is beautiful, the line distribution is fair enough, and it's my favorite title of theirs to sing. personally, i don't think i need to justify it more than that, but in case you're not convinced, dk took that bridge to the moon and landed among the stars.

top japanese release: not alone: i straight up looked up from what i was doing when i first heard this song. immediate favorite. i could probably do a top three and include fallin' flower and call call call! but not alone is just that good that i don't even want to write about anything else. it's such a smooth and easy listen that i think i reached nirvana.

top three full group b-sides: 3. to you: i couldn't care less about it being about carats, like yeah it's sweet, but honestly the vibes are just immaculate in general, and i want whatever woozi has, like damn little counter tenor! i never want to live in a world where this song doesn't exist. 2. our dawn is hotter than day: i move my head along with the refrain every time it's on. it's so peaceful and relaxing and i feel so at home with it. has been a favorite for years. 1. kidult: this song makes me cry. people get tattoos of it. i've been described as a kidult a lot and i chuckle that s.coups wanted it to be as difficult as possible for dk and seungkwan and they served something fierce anyway.

top three hip hop unit tracks: 3. ah yeah: i do it for vernon and vernon alone, otherwise fire or lalali or even monster would have clinched the #3 for sure. you feel so tough when you listen to it and it makes me chuckle every time. these little guys sure were talented right out of the gate. 2. chilli: a recent love, and i didn't get it at first. but it really is relaxing to listen to. i really do pick these tracks for vernon, maybe i should look into that... anyway, drip drip your chilli sauce, boys! i support you. 1. GAM3 BO1: i will not accept criticism. yes, hype is awesome, but i really do enjoy listening to these guys have a good time, especially since wonwoo is such an epic gamer anyway. this was another song that was on my playlist before i fell back into caratland. one of the few respectable earworms out there.

top three performance unit tracks (i hated having to do this one): 3. highlight: this is mostly for jun's part in the beginning, but i'm really upset that i didn't start listening to this sooner. they ate both musically and in terms of the performance video. they were just kids, your honor! 2. back 2 back: minghao's song. no i will not back down from that. you really have to wonder how they do it. i will never in my life understand the crack that they put in this song, because the instrumental by all accounts should make me want to puncture my eardrums, but it doesn't! 1. i don't understand but i luv u: you all saw this coming, don't pretend like you didn't. concert footage aside (hehe MMMMMM), they really did eat. i love electric guitars (hence my love for the rock sound hello) and how they can be fused with pretty much any loop and sound ethereal. the message is also beautiful, dare i say it's what wayv's love talk wishes it could be? (i don't mean that, my fellow nctzens PLEASE don't come after me, it's all in jest i swear!)

top three vocal unit tracks: 3. candy and come to me: come to me is the real #3 but i couldn't just talk about the vocal unit without talking about how candy is jeonghan's song, oh how i miss him! the calypso vibes of come to me are so beautiful, hello? and joshua hong, the man you are, this is your song and you'd better realize that. in short, it's just really pretty, i don't have much else to say other than that. 2. 20: the most fun ever. these little guys had no idea what they were doing but woozi had a vision and goddamnit who am i to argue? i will truly never get tired of it, the chorus has me in a chokehold. 1. habit: oh to go back to the first time i heard this song (which really wasn't that long ago, admittedly). there's so much raw pain and emotion, like seriously, who hurt woozi?! that bridge felt personal. fair warning that it's a really difficult song to learn, damn those rhythms! additionally, the message of wanting to bare your soul to someone who isn't in your life anymore is so relatable.

if you want to remain happy, stop reading here. i'm going to list my least favorites of the aforementioned categories below the cut, so if you don't want to listen to me possibly "trash" your favs (i tried to be as respectful as possible, no real trashing occurred), thank you for reading this far, and have a good day!

least favorite album (mini or full): LOVE&LETTER (the original): honestly, the only reason why this is my least favorite is because the b-sides didn't really stand out to me other than maybe say yes. pretty u is a beautiful title, though!

least favorite title: ready to love: i've seen a lot more people saying this is their favorite lately, and that's great! it was honestly between this and love, money, fame, but ultimately i decided that lmf has a particular notoriety that ready to love just doesn't have (i get it mixed up with u r by monsta x).

least favorite japanese release: power of love: what- what was going on here? i really could not see the vision, it puts me to sleep. dream would've been here but i can actually remember how that song goes.

least favorite full group b-side: circles: sorry, wonwoo, sorry, woozi, but it's a skip for me most times. i love the meaning but the vibe just doesn't do it for me. if i gave it more chances i'm sure it would make me cry, which is a good thing, believe it or not.

least favorite hip hop unit track: i can't run away: i love that they tried something new with this, i just like all of their other releases much more. when compared to the rest of their material, it just doesn't measure up. i love when the rappers sing, though!

least favorite performance unit track: jam jam: weeeeeird vibes for me. they're cute, and minghao's bits with it that went on for a few years are even cuter, but it just ain't it.

least favorite vocal unit track: AH! LOVE: it's a bit annoying, sorry y'all. also s.coups doesn't have enough of a feature, and we all know damn well that that man has a good set of pipes.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING ILY I WANNA DO MORE OF THESE SO GIMME SUGGESTIONS!!!

[vitaminseetarot]

PAC Pick a Palette: One Small Thing That Will Help You Grow ☕🌞💴

Welcome back to my pick a card readings! This time we're looking at the time between our New Moon sowing and our Full Moon flowering. At this stage of the magic making process, work has gone underway to build upon the seed that was germinated and growth happens. Soon it will reveal the peak of its work through the flower, but before then the stem and leaves also deserve attention. They're the ones helping to power the whole thing!

It's important, then, to look at what you're using and where you are in the process. Not everything is meant to grow at the same rate, but sometimes the right ingredients like plant food or pruning clippers can do an incredible job at providing a needed boost.

Pick one of these three color palette swatches to find out what you can add or remedy to assist the growth of your own magic!

(Forgive me if the spread out looks a bit funky this time, it's all about finding the part of the house with the best natural lighting!)

Pile 1: Coffee Beans

Draw: Four of Wands; Queen of Pentacles, Page of Wands, Death 18 - Communication, Aries Rising - Act, Heartsease - Compassion "Tread a little more tenderly."

You need more space to grow whatever it is you're creating. A bird can try to lay an egg without a nest, but it's never going to be easy. Building a sturdy nest increases the young's chance of survival. You should try considering the space in which you're using to create your project or desire: are you writing a novel in a cluttered room, or cooking a meal when you can't find half of your measuring cups and saucepans? Are you meditating in a place where it's difficult to tune out the background noise?

Four of Wands talks about creating the space for you to thrive like the corn in Queen of Pentacles. The Queen is able to cultivate her garden in peace and certainty that abundance is hers. You are meant to take what it is you're doing and allow it to grow, so the Queen is being quite literal here. But she wants you to do it from a place of joy and enthusiasm instead of dread.

The Page is fired up from drinking coffee and is ready to go. But you must be in a place of ease with yourself to do this. Your message is to act upon your growth, but do it from a gentle place and at a gentle pace. Do not try to over exert yourself when you do have the space to practice or create. Do not try, for example, to squeeze 45 minutes of exercise into 5 minutes, thinking that it's all the time you're allowed, so why not go overboard, amiright? This is the fast lane to killing what you're growing and your joy for it, pile 1, and what you're growing is still in a very delicate stage. You have time to work out the details, so don't rush this. Heartease was the first card to pop out and the only card to jump, so it's really emphasizing the need to be careful with how you spend your time and energy.

The Communication card is the only one that really stands out to me. Perhaps what you're developing has to do with communications. Writing a book, preparing a speech, blogging, interview, etc. but it could also have to do with growing your connections with other people through how you communicate. You could be rekindling an old friendship from school or meeting someone for coffee? In any case, Compassion is the keyword here. Be gentle and ready to listen more to feedback, while creating a safe space for your friend or colleague to communicate clearly with you. This is a meetup you'll want to act upon, but do so from a place of kindness.

Also for some reason, maybe it's because I heard the song recently while out, but Tom Petty's "Free Fallin" is in my head while typing your reading and only your reading. Argh, such an earworm! If this person you're meeting up with hurt your heart in some way way back in the past… yeah it's cool to be on the defensive, assert your boundaries. Heartease, however, still asks that you treat this situation with diplomacy.

Pile 2: Radiance

Draw: Eight of Wands; Queen of Pentacles, King of Swords, Knight of Pentacles 19 - Healing Grief, Pisces Rising - Dream, Wisteria - Longevity "Plan for and take the dedicated path."

You have some similarities to pile 1, so if you were interested in that pile I recommend checking it out for messages. For starters, you have Queen of Pentacles in the exact same space on your spread, so that tells me there's a lot of collective push for undertaking rapid growth at this time. The Queen does it from an appearance of near effortlessness, but it's not without considerable effort on her part. She's able to handle a lot with grace and consistency.

It seems like in your cards, pile 2, you're pretty solid when it comes to growing towards your goals. You've become used to trucking along without must reprieve, as if it's from one thing to another as smoothly as the train cars pass the railroad crossing. You're being asked to remember about the power of momentum, and about the little things that add up. Think of how a bird takes off. When it starts flapping, it flaps hard. Once it's high in the sky, it spreads out and soars with ease. It requires a lot of steady pushing, one flap at a time, but eventually when it takes off it gains more speed than ever.

Again like with pile 1, you have all the time you need to make your dreams grow and flourish. Just don't be surprised if this takes a rather long time to accomplish. The Queen of Pentacles is less interested in quantity or time efficiency as she is in quality. It's not that she isn't punctual, far from it, but she and the Knight know that the best fruits are ones that ripen when they're ready to. You're being encouraged to plan for the long term, with wise judgement as the King of Swords suggests, and to open yourself up to envisioning more brilliant avenues to fly through. Imagine what would make your heart soar, and grow that instead of something that you merely feel "obligated" to do. Great things can take time, but it'll be completely worth the wait.

Also, my sun catcher reflected a rainbow perfectly on the osprey in this Eight of Wands card, it's nice. There is a radiance that comes from taking time to grow something to how you want it to be, like the bird with its fish catching talents (it can pluck them right out of the water and fly around boasting its catch). Your skills will shine here, just be sure to care for yourself in the meantime.

Pile 3: Perfect Penny

Draw: Nine of Wands; II High Priestess, XIV Temperance, Seven of Wands 25 - Truth, Taurus Moon - Relax, Belladonna - Silence "Listen more and quiet be."

So this was an interesting spread because at first I couldn't tell if the message was to hold on or let go. Maybe that's your current dilemma when it comes to growth. And it's a valid one, cause it's a lot like the pruning stage. You have to decide which leaves are valuable to your health, and which leaves are dead and must be clipped away.

The penny is like… saving a wishing penny for a rainy day. You're on the defense with Nine of Wands. Do I use this penny now to accomplish this, you ask, or I should I save it for later when I might use it for something else? Nine of Wands is a lot of energy being deliberately held back for a reason, like an arrow ready to fire. It could be that you're maybe putting a little too much perfectionism into the idea. What you're growing has not yet been grounded into the material world, it's still a passion idea or a fire in your heart but you're holding it back. But Nine of Wands is also a Sagittarius card, doubly so since Sagittarius is the 9th sign. The requirement here for growth is pushing forward with optimism that your wish will not go to waste. There's an energy of perfectionism here especially as it took me exactly nine photos before I settled for this one. I finally decided it didn't have to be perfect, it just had to feel ok enough!

My first reaction was to say "trust your gut and you'll learn to balance the give and take," then High Priestess and Temperance came out together! Somewhere inside you already know what it is you would like to do with "the penny" of an idea you're casting into the wishing well. You don't have to overthink this. It's a matter of coming from a heart-centered place of Truth. Belladonna is showing you how to tap into your intuition: "listen more, silent be." Listen closely to what your heart is wishing to do. Balance this out with how others may perceive your goals or growth. There may be people who say something like, "you're going to use what you got on 'that'?" or "are you really sure that's what you want to do?"

It takes practice to choose from a place of intuitive open mindedness, but it will reward you in this case. You're being reminded to stay relaxed and steady about this. Making the next move doesn't have to come from a place of high pressure or unneeded stress, even if it's time sensitive. But by learning to listen to your intuition more, the part that tells you how to proceed from a place of optimism within reason, you'll be able to more quickly expand and grow upon what it is you're creating. With penny's copper corresponding to Venus as well as Taurus moon, it's suggested here that you could receive monetary or financial growth through this, as well.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2023, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[ydan-lover]

Do Not Buy: The Vampire Dies in No Time Volume 1 (Orange Inc.)

Tl;dr it's bad. Also do not support AI.

Some of you may not know it but The Vampire Dies in No Time actually has an "official English translation" that is being published on emaqi.com (access for North America only).

I'll start with the elephant in the room. Orange Inc., the company behind this "official translation," uses AI-translation technologies.

"To produce one localized volume of manga in another language requires several difficult, time-consuming, and complicated processes. What Orange is doing is using AI technology to try to streamline the more tedious tasks required for manga localization, so humans can spend more time focusing on what they do best." (link)

They claim the translation they're providing is not AI-generated and is done by their translators but let's see these statements.

On the translation side, we sometimes use Japanese-to-English translation that is 100% done by human translators, with no AI assistance. We also have some cases where we start with an AI-generated translation, and human translators will use that as a starting point to review and make edits or adjustments, if needed. But what is really important for us to emphasize is that we NEVER publish anything that is only an AI-generated translation.  <...> For example, the first basic translation could be made by AI, and the human localizer would work on retouching and fixing stuff.  <...> (From the press release) To maintain the integrity of the original works and build trust with the readers, artists and publishers over time, no more than 10 percent of the content on emaqi will be translated using AI support at launch, as the team continues to evaluate and refine its approach for the future (link)

According to them, they use AI-assisted automated tools for things like erasing the Japanese original text from a manga page, but as you'll see later that, if that claim is true, not only is this thing inconsistent in what to erase and what not but there are also moments that made me question if the translation was really done by human hand.

First of all, nobody is credited for the translation.

Translated, Lettered and Edited by Orange Inc.

How can anyone be assured that whatever they're reading was not done by AI? Just believe someone's "plz trust me"?

Second of all, fine. Let me put on a clown wig and assume it was 100% done by human translators and not MTL.

It doesn't save the book much because it's still bad.

Disclaimer: this post is covering only the first chapter and all the problems with it because it's the only one with an open access and could be read for free. Also because one post is not enough to cover all the problems I've found in the book.

Let's start with the contents page.

Call me old-fashioned or whatever, I really dislike the decision just to leave the chapters as 'chapters'.

The chapters in the series are referred to as 第ｘ死 instead of the usual 第ｘ話. This translates as Death X, because our titular main character happens to die in no time, what a shocker. By simply changing these 'deaths' to 'chapters' the translation already loses some charm of the original book.

As for the chapter titles...

(1) The Hunter Arrives, And He Gets Lost - no, that's not what the 空を飛ぶ part means. It is literal, because Ronald flies in the skies for just a moment because that's what happens in the chapter.

(4) Fukuma Attacks! - I'm convinced the title for this one is based on the fan translations of that chapter title because not even in the anime it's translated like that. The word 襲撃 does mean 'to attack', except there's a small nuance: the word is usually used to indicate that the attack is unexpceted. Again, that's what happens in the chapter.

(5) Shin-Yokohama Will Fall With Flowers - I will admit, this title is difficult to be properly translated into English, which is where the machine failed. Bonnoki is using two different meanings of the word 散る: one is applicable to the falling flowers, another one could be roughly translated as 'to die a noble death in the battle'. The second meaning is what happens in the chapter, because Draluc, well, dies during his encounter with Zenranium. 花と散る is basically just a euphemism of someone dying. No idea why it's suddenly Shin-Yokohama the one dying in this title translation. A human with basic knowledge of the Japanese grammar would not translate it like that, that's for sure.

(6) Can You Hit the Wall and Kill It? - like in the case with the anime's translation (Can a Bang on the Wall Kill Him?), I have no idea why they're specifying and making it worse when we all know from the context the one to be killed is Draluc, so it would be totally fine to translate is as just "Can You Kill by Hitting the Wall?" (This one is more of a nitcpick, I admit it myself, but still)

(7) Grumbling Highway to Success - again, if you know the context, the chapter title makes no sense. Hinaichi doesn't win. Her hopes of getting a serious job (出世街道, path to success) turn into getting the lamest job (転落道, path to failure). Could be also translated as "The Highway to Promotion is the Path to Demotion" but that's

(8) Eros Leading to Metamorphosis - ゆえに ('therefore') is translated wrong. I'll let them slide the omitted wordplay in the title with "love/eros" and "pervert/metamorphosis" because it's hard to show that in translation, it doesn't really matter that much here anyway.

(9/10) Some Idiots Cause a Disturbance in the Hunter's Guild... (Again) - バカ騒ぎ is an adjective attached to the guild, not some idiots. The まだ part in the sequel indicated the guild is still fooling around.

And finally, Draluc's iconic 'sand' scream is now something gibberish. Great start.

Page 3

Someone saw him heading toward Draluc's castle...

Again, I'm slightly nitpicking, but for a reason. Draluc's castle is literally called just Draluc Castle. Poor woman is telling Ronald the name of the castle her son was last seen, and then she adds that the castle belongs to the vampire with the same name.

Continuity error (真相にして無敵). For some reason, the 無敵 part is always translated along with some new added words when it's not the case in the original. "Said to be invincible", "supposedly invincible".

Page 8

Font inconsistency. Despite using the same font in the original, Ronald shouts in two different fonts in the translation.

What you see straught ahead is the castle of Draluc...

The word that the tour guide uses here is not 城 (castle) but 屋敷 (residence, mansion).

Page 9

Mischellanous. Some of the written stuff is not translated and left as it is, without any logic behind such decision. On this page, Draluc's buns with his initial D are not translated. Draluc's games referencing the very well-known ones are also left untouched.

Page 10

I was picking out a QSQ software.

Where do I even start with this...

Most of the time the word ソフト in gaming spaces does not mean a short form of ソフトウェア (software program) but a short form of ゲームソフト (console game). Sure, technically speaking a game is a software, but I've never seen any casual gamers call it "software" even once because imho the word software has a slightly different meaning than when you say a video game.

And here we have an elementary school kid calling it a software. When he was literally shown picking a game on the previous page. Dpmo.

I ended up staying late because I was playing until I completed the game.

He did not complete the game. That's part of the reason why he runs away and continues playing later on.

Most of the time, author's notes (aka Bonnoki's additional comments) are usually introduced via a character saying something and the line being marked with this ※ reference mark. For some reason, this reference mark is erased in translation.

Page 11

Don't think you can beat me in my own castle, brat!

No idea why they decided to add the word brat that wasn't in the bubble in the first place. We know already that line is addressed to the kid.

While technically it's the correct transation, Draluc refers to him as 小僧 in the chapter, which is more polite than Ronald's ガキ, usually translated here as "brat". Draluc is yet to go through his polite-to-rude speech change, so of course he's referring to the scooter kid politely, with the only time of him using "brat" as a reply to Ronald's previous speech where he refers to kid as such. However, the translation fails to adapt this nuance in their speeches. (No idea how it is in the dub, but at least in the English subs they do refer to him differently, with Draluc using "boy" and Ronald using "kid" and they were always consistent with this)

Mischellanous. Due to the pics limit I can't post every case of the manga being inconsistent with Draluc's 小僧/Ronald's ガキ so I'll just write them down if there are any in the remaining screencaps. While I can close my eyes on Ronald's inconsistency and sort of excuse it as a PR persona vs. real persona slipping up moments, all the Draluc moments literally have no excuse.

Bratconsistency x1

Page 13

The のに part is missing in the translation. Ronald is technically continuing hiss speech from the previous page, hence のに.

However, if anything happens to the client's kid...

Also... Bratconsistency x0.5 (Like I've mentioned before, I can at least (sort of) excuse Ronald's lines, but still.)

See? Your long-winded speech made us lost track of the brat.

Made us lose track.

Bratconsistency x1

Page 14

...little punk

Doesn't even count as Bratconsistency because it wasn't in the original lines. Ronald doesn't call out to him even once during this scene because he does it in the next one.

Page 15

This is a popularity business. Going viral for the wrong reasons is the scariest thing.

I rather prefer "online backlash" from the anime as the translation for the 炎上 because (imho) "going viral for the wrong reasons" is too vague and could mean anything.

All right! You go give that kid a Wii or something!

It's Vii.

Page 16

Mischellanous: Ronald's book cover is not translated. Again, no idea what's the logic behind translating some things and leaving some of them untranslated.

Damn. That little brat...

That's not what he said.

Page 17 (+ bonus Page 22)

Become minced meat along with the kid, vampire hunter!

Again, that's not what he said. He just says they will become victims of said traps. The anime subs got it right.

Hey, there was some kind of beam-emitting device in there!

I have to admit, this was the moment I gave up and had to laugh out loud, for the completely wrong reason.

Ah yes, I can totally imagine a really pissed off Ronald, after almost getting himself killed, saying "beam-emitting device" in his politest voice ever.

At least on page 22 he says something more in character. Wait a second-

It's the thing that shoots beams from its eyes!!!

Eye. One eye. Also inconsistent with the name from page 17.

Page 18

Font inconsistency. When Draluc is being fried by lazers, his speech becomes pixelated. While the font slightly changes, it's nowhere close to the original line in terms of style.

(Ronald) C'mon, one look and it's obvious the place is full of traps. Don't mess with me. (Draluc) You went in even though you could tell there was a trap at first glance?

Draluc's reply makes no sense. Not to mention that's not what he said. "You could tell that at first glance, and yet you still went in?"

Page 19

Mischellanous. Again, the poisonous gas button is translated on one frame and left untranslated on another.

Page 20

I mean, wouldn't it be harder to actually get fall traps that obvious?

???

???

You either choose "to actually fall for such obvious traps" or "to actually get caught in such obvious traps", not both at the same time.

Page 24

Mischellanous. Again, Draluc is being fried by lasers and his speech is in pixels. No pixels for the translation.

I totally forgot about the poison gas!

Poisonous gas, you mean. Proofreading seems to be nonexistent.

Page 27

The gag of Draluc's sand sfx being reversed when revived is nonexistent in the translation.

Page 28

Gah, sunlight!!!

Font inconistency. Draluc's "gah" should also be enlarged.

Draluc Castle

They finally got the Draluc Castle name right, too bad it's inconsistent with what was introduced before, huh.

***

And lastly, for anyone thinking it gets better later, have some moments from the extras. (No pics since I've reached the limit and I don't want to be hit by a random copyright)

Special Thanks Page. They translated the address but decided to leave out the part mentioning Bonnoki's editor and his assistants.

Character Notes. 兄弟 from Ronald's note is translated as "brothers". While typically it does mean exactly that, we know from context 3兄弟 means "three siblings" because we have Himari, Ronald's sister.

Extra Bonus Story. Oh boy. Firstly, Ronald-Donald joke doesn't land if you have a Ronaldo-Donald combo. (Another win for Ronald truthers) And if you don't know why their names are suddenly spelled as "Ro-na-lu-do" and "Do-ra-lu-ku" to make the joke work, don't worry, they just gave up on adapting the joke. Secondly, they also gave up on the Funamushi-Hinaichi joke adaptation and wrote "Funamushi (Ligia exotica)" and I wish I was kidding.

Uso/Fake Preview. Despite being a two-page spread, the text is placed as if it's two different pages. The fact it was even approved makes me frustrated. The grammar is also messed up at one point.

Back Cover. Again, another proof that this translation lacks proofreading.

The translation of the frame on the cover does not match the one in the actual book. ("That cocky brat… Mocking us with those fancy kickboard moves." (book) vs. "Why you little... Mocking me with those kickboard skills!" (back cover))

The description of Ronald and Fukuma's frame: "Clothes being torn into shreads by editors with his battle axe...?!" Again, zero understanding of the context and zero proofreading. Fukuma is one entity (so far...), where did multiple editors even come from?

Speaking of proofreading, the synopsis also (sort of) lies about the premise. "In order to find the missing children, the vampire hunter Ronaldo came to the castle of the supposedly invincible vampire and true ancestor, Draluc. <...>" One. Missing. Child.

Closing thoughts

Objectively speaking, I can't prove that this translation was done by AI, but I also can't prove that it was done by humans either.

The reason why I'm even making this post is because I'm frustrated and very disappointed. Some of Bonnoki's jokes might be either too niche (I swear I've learned more about the Dragon Quest just from him than my gaming circles) or too clever for the translation that a human hand will always be required, no matter what. If I don't have any guarantees that these jokes will not be butchered by some AI that missed the context or simply doesn't get the joke, then why should anyone bother paying for the lackluster content?

And again, the quality of the volume wouldn't change much even if no AI was used, because then it would mean none of the translators bothered to check if what they've translated before was consistent or matches with what's happening in the book.

And, to top it all, people are asked to pay $5 for this quality on the site.

Unfortunately (?) I don't have access to volumes 2-4, so I can't just check the chapters where AI would be the most obvious or simply check the later content, but I'm afraid it probably doesn't get much better. And if the description on the site matches the one from the back cover like with volume 1, then we have Ronaldo suddenly turning into Ronald three volumes later. Another peak of consistency. (If it's just a typo on the back cover and he's still Ronaldo in the series, it just shows the lack of care again)

I really wanted for The Vampire Dies in No Time to be picked up by some daring publishing company and be properly translated into English with all the nuances. There is a reason why the series is so beloved in Japan among the fans, so I hoped that its chaotic charm would find its way to the public outside Japan.

So far, all I feel right now is sadness. I'm disappointed with how the official English release is being handled right now.

Last thing I will say is this. Do not even dare blaming or insulting Bonnoki for this mess. We don't know the extent of how much he actually knows about it, considering he's been recovering from his injury and not even once acknowledged the release of the English translation.

(P.s. I might make some follow-up posts regarding the butchered translation of the first volume but since I don't live in North America I have no idea if publishing the excerpts from the rest of the volume is even legal and whether they could strike down my post, lol. Honestly, I wouldn't have minded just making a text post and listing all the things butchered, just to be safe, but the fake (or Uso) preview spread is just that bad that it needs to be seen as a whole. Also I've been making this post for ages and it's just one chapter, so I need a small break before I make another post regarding the book's quality check.)

[songbirdseung]

songbirdseung's masterlist 1

this masterlist includes enhypen, bts and txt.

masterlist 2

BTS

Jimin

let me know 

luckily, yours

Taehyung

disconnected

beautifully hurtful

Jungkook

wishes come true

typical love triangle 

echoes of liberation

love knows no distance 

my relief 

see u soon

Enhypen

sour album - all members

8th member 

airport

english

fallin for you

prada

talents

interrupting their live

waking up next to them

fanfiction

haunted house

fangirling over other idols

albums and photocards

Heeseung

not for sale 

never you

too soon

connected hearts

have to pay

my secret 

matchy matchy

sofa 

come as you are ft. beomgyu

Jay

whispers of the heart

the great swap-invasion 

the bracelet

whispers of stardust

staff only 

love, goodbye

little crush 

you again?

mr. green flag

angry angel

Jaeyun

bite me

my everything

border: carnival

whenthepartysover

can you see me here? ft. heeseung

on live together 

stuff toy 

for my pretty girl

uncharted melodies

Sunghoon

uncharted memories

forever not (part 1) (part two) 

worlds apart

pranker’s paradox

puppy nanny

chapter closing

Sunoo

off limits 

moments

Jungwon

miscommunicated love 

reunited and inseparable 

background

Ni-Ki

award show 

studio choom 

forgetful

young love 1 2 

not you

Enhypen Hyung Line

Arguments 

break up 

kisses

crying

pranks 

studying 

playlists

Enhypen Maknae Line

Jealous 

Sleeping

flowers

ideal type

hearing you sing and or dance for the first time

Tomorrow by Together

fans shipping you with them

downtime with them

Yeonjun

love at first sight 

dance live

PS5

Bad Boy, Gone Good

celestial reunion 

peek a boo

Soobin

boy is mine 

survival

goodbye, good boy 

carousel 

Beomgyu

airport crush 

younger

come as you are ft. heeseung

Taehyun

sin and suds 

Huening Kai

babies and exes

hotel room

[seventeenmisaki]

stage name : misaki

birth name: kang hyunjin

> listed as hyunjin misaki kang in other sources

pronouns : she/her

position : main dancer, visual

birthday : december 25th, 1999

zodiac sign : capricorn

nationality : japanese, korean-american

sub-unit(s) : performance

instagram : @ kanghm

misaki facts !

> misaki was born in kyoto, japan.

> her family moved to long island, new york shortly after she was born.

> her family consists of her parents.

> misaki is half-japanese and half-korean.

> misaki goes by her japanese name/middle name most commonly. however, she does not mind if people use her first name.

> misaki has been a trainee under pledis since 2014.

> misaki was supposed to debut in a girl group under pledis in 2020, but the debut never happened due to internal problems and due to the coronavirus outbreak.

> misaki officially joined seventeen in april 2023 with their 10th mini album "fml".

> misaki is able to speak korean, english, and japanese.

> misaki usually speaks to joshua and vernon in english.

> misaki is a former gymnast. she started when she was six and competed across the u.s.a. until she auditioned for pledis entertainment at the end of 2013.

> misaki started dancing when she was five at a studio in her hometown, but she was more focused on gymnastics rather than dancing.

> misaki auditioned for pledis by dancing to "because of you" by after school and "the boys" by girls generation. during her audition, she had to rap and sing for the first time.

> as a trainee, she started to learn how to produce music with woozi as one of her mentors.

> misaki is known to be very quiet, so sometimes she'll wander off on her own. the guys and staff members try to make sure that someone is with her at all times so she doesn't disappear.

> misaki is really shy at first, but she opens up once she is comfortable enough.

> misaki is really bad at contacting others through her phone because she keeps a lot of her notifications off. she had to compromise with s.coups to keep seventeen and other staff's notifications on.

> misaki's favorite activities are dancing, watching videos/tv, shopping.

> misaki does not know how to swim.

> misaki participated in several pledis artists's performances prior to her debut as a backup dancer. [link 1] [link 2]

> misaki takes classes at different dance studios when she has the opportunity to do so.

> misaki's favorite seventeen songs are: "fallin' flower", "cheers”, “_world”, “to you”, and many other songs.

> misaki's favorite "going seventeen" episodes are the "don't lie" series and "catch stock."

> she lives in the dorm where s.coups, the8, and joshua used to live in.

return to masterlist

to be updated as needed

last update : mar 14, 2025

[statustemporary]

free fallin' - Chapter 2

STORY SUMMARY: On a dark and stormy Halloween night 27 years ago, five people stepped onto an elevator. They never stepped off.

Now 28, Emma Swan and her son Henry work together to discover what caused her parents and the other inhabitants to suddenly disappear.

//rewrite of previous work, expanded to a multi-chapter.

RATING: Teen+

WORD COUNT: 3,564

TAGS: Captain Swan, Tower of Terror AU, CSSNS 2022, Graphic Depictions Of Terrifying Sights in Chapter 1, no beta we die like killian jones,

AO3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: ha ha... oops. it's been two years since i updated this. life's crazy and my passion for ouat has faded but i'm determined to finish all my posts WIPs and maybe get my WIP folder on my laptop emptied onto here. i'm trying.

this has changed drastically from the film, mainly because i messed things up in the first chapter but oh well lol. similar premise but obviously things are a free-for-all now in my story. wish me luck trying to finish this lol.

not really sure how i'm feeling about this chapter so i'm sorry in advance if it doesn't live up to expectations! here's to the next one eventually!

enjoy!

***

Uncle James lives in a swanky townhouse just a few blocks from the heart of Storybrooke. The front windows of the place have a magnificent view of the hills in the distance while the back windows peered out at the Hollywood Tower Hotel like a taunt.

Emma hated growing up there.

The entire place felt too modern and unlived. Uncle James refused to have any sentimentality in his living space. No art projects on the fridge, no souvenirs from trips, and definitely no family photos. The farthest he went with décor was a floating shelf of ratty books in Latin. She wondered if what happened that Halloween night 27 years ago haunted him and that’s why he refused any reminder of his twin. Did the mirror play just as cruel of a joke?

Oddly enough, she did stumble upon a picture of her mother in his bedside drawer when she was eight. Mary Margaret looked stunning, her degree placard from Harvard held tightly in her hand with a bouquet of flowers cradled in her opposite elbow. Her graduation gown was flowing in the wind and her smile was positively radiant.

Uncle James caught her looking at the photo and he ripped it from her grasp. She never saw it again.

Not much about the townhouse has changed over the years, including the man residing inside of it. Uncle James remains aloof and standoffish to the point Emma wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot he had a niece at all.

His car, a sleek black sports convertible, is parked out front and it feels promising, even if she dreads the upcoming conversation. It takes a great effort to place one foot in front of the other as she approaches the entrance, her feet feeling as heavy as lead. The sickening weight in her heels is the only thing to prevent her from running back to her car after pressing the doorbell.

Uncle James looks surprised and disappointed to see her on his doorstep. His shoulders visibly drop and his mouth ticks down in a frown. “Emma?”

She flashes a quick smile at him.

“Uncle James, hi. How are you?”

He cuts straight to the point, narrowing the opening of the door so that only a sliver of his body is visible. “What are you doing here?”

The sigh that leaves her lips makes him close the door another inch. “Can we talk inside?”

“Actually Emma, I’m about to leave for – ”

He’s wearing pajamas. And a bathrobe. She swallows down the anger that’s brewing, the almost two decades of resentment towards his willful absence, and steels her shoulders. “I need to talk to you about my parents.” That catches his attention.

Paranoia, or maybe it’s PTSD, seems to take over her uncle as he pales and ushers her inside his townhome, head ducking out the door and swiveling around before he slams it shut and locks it. He brings her to the kitchen and offers her some alcohol as he makes his own drink. She remembers being thirteen and him offering her some of his rum and coke when he realized they had no orange juice in the fridge. The drink disgusted her and he got angry when she spit it in the sink. They never ran out of orange juice after that.

“So…” he begins. His hands are tense where they’re splayed on the kitchen island’s marble countertop. There’s a wild gleam in his eyes that unsettles Emma but she doesn’t know where to place it. She knows reporters, both professional and amateur, have hunted her down and pressured her for a statement, an interview, anything. Had they done the same to her uncle? “What were you saying about your parents?”

“Do you remember that night?” she asks. Uncle James sighs and drops his head.

“I could never forget it.” Defeat thickens his voice as his shoulders grow rigid. He shudders and takes a deep breath before looking up at her. “What about it?”

Emma shifts in her seat. “Can you tell me about it? From your perspective?” He looks ready to deny her so she pulls out the card up her sleeve. “It’s for Henry. He’s doing a project in school.”

“Ah,” he murmurs. A shadow crosses over his face as he collects his thoughts. “There’s not much to say from what I saw, really. I arrived early because my polo club cancelled our game. I saw Mayor Mills, exchanged a few words about the party at the Tip Top Club. I was on the stairs with some fancy drink from the patio bar when I saw your parents head into the elevator. David and I hadn’t talked in a few months but Mary Margaret invited me to the party.” Emma feels herself soften as her uncle smiles absently as he remembers her parents. “Obviously she didn’t tell him I was coming and he was glaring at me. He still hadn’t moved on from our fight. I raised my glass to them, a peace offering. Then the elevator doors closed and that was it… That was the last time I saw them.”

“Did you see anything else that night?” she asks, leaning her elbows atop the island. “Anything strange or… unusual?”

He shakes his head as he looks down at his drink. Silence follows for a beat and then another and Emma’s afraid she’s lost her uncle to his memories of the past. “The lights went out not long after I saw them get on the elevator.” She nods. “Honestly, I thought people were crazy when they said all of them were cursed. I mean, magic?!” He huffs out a laugh of disbelief. A pause and then his face darkens. “If there’s any inkling to that notion, I’d wager on Regina.”

Huh. Emma’s brows pinch together as she mulls that sentence over in her head. The sudden drop of formality with the former mayor was odd. For all the time she lived with Uncle James, he never mentioned Regina before today, much less by name. He never mentioned any of the others either but the way he spoke now hinted at a history. A nasty one at that.

Her mouth opens to ask another question but Uncle James shakes his head and downs the remainder of his drink in one go. “I think it’s time you left, Emma. It was nice seeing you.”

He disappears around the corner to his bedroom at the back of the townhouse before Emma has a chance to say any departing words. Resigned, she gently places her cup in the dishwasher and sees herself out.

***

The late morning air hangs heavy around the hotel. Emma stands outside on the sidewalk, head tilted back as she takes in the massive structure. In reality, she never thought she’d come here, let alone twice in as many days. She checks her watch to confirm she has a few hours before Henry gets out of school. The last thing she wants is for him to be back here.

“Uh…” a voice sounds to her left and Emma turns just in time to see her son stop short, eyes widen, and his body swivel back the way he came.

“Henry!” she calls out in frustration. She watches his small body freeze and tense up as she comes upon him.

He grins small but innocently up at her. “Ha ha… Hi, Mom.”

“What are you doing here?! You’re supposed to be in school today!”

“Well about that…” he laughs nervously. She says his name in warning and he winces, opening his mouth ready to spew an inventive explanation when they hear a creaking behind them.

The metal gate to the hotel opens slowly and the chain-link keeping it closed snakes down to the ground in an exhausted heap. She blinks rapidly at the scene before her, her mouth dropping open in shock. That… shouldn’t happen.

Maybe the chains were just rusted and finally gave way, she tried to reason with herself. Maybe LJ forgot to lock back up after everything yesterday.

So lost in her thoughts, Emma didn’t realize Henry had moved away until she saw his small figure squeezing through the open fence and running up the hill to the hotel. “Henry!” she yells out. Running is her thing – running away from emotions, commitment, the whole shebang. Apparently, her son inherited that from her, just literally.

The bottles of holy water in the pocket of her leather jacket are justled by her running up the driveway. Sage in her bag bumps against her hip. Her gun rests heavily in her holster.

Emma’s eyes scan the landscape furiously.

“Henry!” she calls out. She evens her breathing and rests one hand on her hip where her firearm rests in case some crazy person is behind all this and has Henry.

“Hurry up, Mom!”

Emma turns the last bend of the driveway and lets out a deep sigh. Henry stands in front of the entrance to the hotel bouncing on the balls of his feet. He impatiently waves her over, eyeing the locked front doors.

“You know,” she starts, “I think I should bring you to Granny’s right now. Let her watch over you and see if you try to skip school again.”

Henry whines, head thrown back in exasperation. “But Moooooom! These are your parents!”

“Henry, come on. You can’t really believe that.” Emma bends down in front of him and takes hold of his arms, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles even as her heart bleeds. “My parents disappeared so long ago… This can’t be them.”

“But it is!”

“Henry…”

“What about yesterday?! You believed it was their ghosts when they scared us out of here!”

“Ghosts don’t exist, Henry. How do you explain that, huh? Magic?” She deflates as her son mumbles to himself and looks to the ground. Softening her tone, she continues, “It would be really cool if magic was real but it’s not. Those are probably just projections some twisted loser made to scare people. Okay?”

“Are you calling us Jem and the Holograms?”

They jump at the sudden appearance of a third voice, their heads turning to see Killian Jones leaning halfway through the closed front door.

Emma’s breath stutters while Henry starts, “What the –”

“Tsk, tsk,” Killian taunts. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

She panics. Her hand flies to her bag and she pulls out the holy water, uncapping the bottle and surging the water towards the door.

It seemingly goes through his body, the blessed water streaming down the front door, but he jerks at the sensation.

Then Killian starts to groan, writhing in pain. The half of his body positioned through the door begins to curl in on itself as gurgling from his throat becomes audible. Emma stares – watching and waiting for smoke to sizzle from his frame or for him to disappear but nothing happens.

Until the gurgling changes sound and it becomes clear it’s transitioned into laughter.

Killian raises his head, smirking in glee. “Holy water? Really? I know I’m devilishly handsome but you didn’t really think that’d work.”

The photos never did his smirk justice, she realizes. And all she wants to do is smack it right off his face. With a growl, she stands up straight and marches right through Killian to the front door, pulling the spare key LJ gave her from her pocket.

“Chills, darling,” Killian whispers in her ear. The air shifts around her. Despite the absence of any breath ghosting over her skin, she can feel the way a smirk dances across his lips and the whole thing makes her angrier.

Click. The key sits just perfectly in the lock and the door swings open. She strides inside, Henry following excitedly behind her.

Her back straight as a rod, she places her hands on her hips and stares down the… beings in the hotel lobby.

“Not the friendliest lady, huh?” Killian drawls from behind her.

Henry takes immediate offense. “Hey, that’s my mom!”

“Apologies, lad,” Killian tosses carelessly over his shoulder as he heads towards the bar.

“Enough!” Emma calls out roughly. She narrows her gaze, her voice dropping an octave. “Who the hell is behind this?”

Regina sighs, sitting regally on a cobweb infested armchair in the center of the lobby. She examines her nails with more interest than her voice provides in an answer. “If she weren’t dead, I’d say my sister.”

“Regina!” Mary Margaret quietly admonishes from David’s side near the luggage cart.

“What?” Regina asks, her eyes thinning to slits and lips turning downward. “You’ve met the witch. A house should’ve fell on her sooner.”

“She was really a witch?!” Henry asks, practically bouncing in place from excitement.

Regina scoffs. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she actually was.”

“Magic isn’t real,” Emma grits out. She moves just slightly in front of Henry, eyes flicking between the Jones brothers and Regina. “Now explain who is putting on this sick joke because they’ve got a nice harassment charge waiting for when I bring them down to the sheriff’s office. It’d be a pity to add evading arrest to that as well.”

“Well,” states Liam from where he’s reviewing a check-in book. “Once you find out, let us know. I’d like to have a chat with the lad as well.”

“Seriously,” she continues. She puts her hands on her hips to further assert her authority and presses hard enough that she’s sure the skin under her jeans is colorless. “This isn’t funny. Tell me.”

Killian tsks. The sound is quickly growing to be her most hated. “As pretty as you are to look at, lass, I think the peace and quiet was better. I’d have told you if I knew.”

David scoffs, crossing his arms. “Leave the girl alone, Jones. You’re nothing but a drunk – she wouldn’t waste the time with you anyway.”

There’s a shout of indignation from the other side of the room and then the entire lobby erupts into chaos. The Jones brothers jump to the other’s defense as David tosses insults back and forth. Regina adds her own one-liners to the disappointment of Mary Margaret. Their own disagreement drags David into it as well, and he manages to fight off both Regina and the Jones brothers as if a skilled swordsman against multiple enemies.

Words no longer decipherable, Emma subtly steps to the side, one eye on the group and the other searching, investigating. Caution rolls deep within her and she keeps one hand resting on her holstered firearm. Ghosts aren’t real. There’s no such thing. Holy water didn’t do a damn thing.

Sophisticated projector is what she’s looking for, then. They have to be holograms or AI or something that digitally recreated five tragically unsolved missing people, for the pure enjoyment of scaring others. She bets that there’s some YouTube channel that showcases Hollywood Tower Hotel scares, run by whoever is doing this.

Emma’s gaze scans the walls of the outdated hotel.

It didn’t hit her last time, too busy scared for their lives to really pay attention, but the floral wallpaper pulls from the moldings. The green background has faded and the white flowers accenting it yellowed. Burnt out lamps with golden shades sit atop wooden tables covered in layers of dust.

The sound of something rustling wafts through the air but the group of beings either don’t hear it or don’t care. If she follows the sound, though, she might find the ‘genius’ behind it all. Her eyes narrow on a closed oak door near the hallway to the main floor ballroom.

A once golden sign looks like a beat-up bronze, the fake bright finishing having flaked off over the years. Coat Closet. Likely place for someone to setup their gadgets.

The vinyl flooring crackles under her feet as she moves towards the it.

Her head turns at an echoing pair of footsteps and a quick glance back confirms Henry treads closely behind.

The wooden door swings open with a creak. Emma splays her hand against the rough wallpaper and feels around until she hits the light switch. Flickering yellow light fills the cramped space. Pink wool carpet stained from age and buckling wood paneling buried behind huge swaths of clothing greet them first before the smell of must hits their noses.

Henry shrieks and jumps back at the sight of a large rat scurrying over fraying paper and escaping through the lobby.

Great. Nothing in the closet except a rat and leftover coats from that night…

Emma was only a baby when her parents disappeared on Halloween night at the Hollywood Tower Hotel. Grandma Ruth, overwhelmed in her grief, packed up all of their things and tucked them away in a storage unit out of town. Out of sight didn’t mean out of mind, though, and Emma served as a reminder of her broken heart every day, until she couldn’t handle it anymore and went into an eternal sleep.

By the time Emma was old enough to know and inquire about her parents’ things, Grandma Ruth’s storage unit had been auctioned off due to lack of payments.

Aside from a small box of things brought to her Uncle James’ place alongside her diaper bag, everything her parents owned was gone.

Being at the hotel, at the place where she lost them before she could even know them, Emma wants something to hold of theirs. The only thing she has of her mother’s is a pink cardigan, left at Granny’s apartment during a dinner once. Soft, powdery fragrance once enveloped the fabric but has long since faded. Now the small cardigan hangs on her coat rack as a reminder of what is so far from her grasp.

But maybe… maybe in this place seemingly suspended in time… she could have something.

Her eyes have studied the photographs of the night well enough that, once she looks towards the coats, she immediately recognizes the red scarf.

Tucked around the neck of a shimmering floor-length dark coat, the red scarf sticks out in a sea of navy and black. It calls to her and Emma’s fingers slowly reach out. The coat ticket says 191, the black jacket kept close stating 192 most likely belonging to her father.

The fabric is cool to the touch and though spiders and moths have left their mark elsewhere in the hotel, the state of the coat closet is pristine. Could it hold the smell? The perfume Emma has spent half her life looking for? The only thing that reminds her of her mother’s embrace. Of comfort and security and love.

She pulls both coats off the hanger and holds her mother’s up, her nose nearly to the scarf –

“Hey!” Henry calls from behind her.

Emma turns swiftly, her eyes locking in on the beings crowding their way towards them. Her hand shoots out and grabs Henry’s arm, pulling him swiftly behind her.

“Hey,” Mary Margaret echoes quietly. Her brows furrow together as she takes in the sight before her. “That’s my coat.”

Mary Margaret’s hand reaches towards the coat but Emma jerks it back towards her, feeling oddly protective of the thing. The smell of the scarf hits her nose and she rustles the coats in her arms for a better grip, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

“Hey,” her watery voice sounding loud in the tight closet as the others look at her in wide-eyed shock. “Don’t crowd us in here. I’m – ”

“Emma,” David breaths out, her entire body deflating.

Emma blinks, hesitating for a moment. “David?” she asks. “You… remember?”

Tears flood his eyes as he gives her a soft smile. “Of course.”

A fluttering lightness fills Emma’s chest as he steps forward, smile still on his face.

It’s incredible, she thinks to herself. How her father could just know it was her despite all the time that had passed. Maybe this is his ghost and this is her closure.

Emma nearly drops the coats as her father takes another step…

Until he bends down onto one knee and picks something up from the floor. A polaroid.

“We’ve never been able to get in here,” David whispers, more to himself than to her and Henry. He stares at the polaroid as tears roll down his cheeks and a shaky hand comes up to cover his mouth. Mary Margaret leans in close, her own eyes filling, and she rests her head on his arm.

Acting every part the proud father, David shows the others what the polaroid is. “This is our daughter,” he begins, looking up with a wide, watery grin and turning the polaroid towards her and Henry.

The film is slightly overexposed and a person stands in the background more a blur than a defining figure. In the center stands, with help of the mystery figure, a small Emma barely a year old with a spattering of light hair atop her head and a gummy grin directed right at the camera.

“Her name is – ”

“Emma,” she finishes in a rushed, exhausted breath. Looked over by her own baby photo. Damn.

She clutches the coats tighter to her center and Henry looks up at her, confused. “But – ”

“We’re leaving.” Emma frees one hand to grab Henry’s arm and pulls him through the closet, through the ghastly chill of the projected beings in the hotel, and out the front door.

[haecien]

Thank you to anon for requesting this! Also hey first req!

Himbos & Flowers

Synopsis: You are a florist at a small not well known shop that you inherited from your family, the only people who come there to buy and support your small business is your close friends. This time they brought over a new friend that has seemed to be interested in you...

Small warning for cursing!

Genre; Fluff, College au(?), Non idol au, florist reader.

G/n reader x Mingyu. 983 words 5,278 characters

I didn't proof read this!

After your Grandparents passing who previously owned the store, now it was your time to run this store!

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" This place looks like an absolute mess. " you said with a hopeless expression on your face as you looked at Minghao who was equally disgusted.

" Thanks for offering to help me Hao! The others seemed like they didn't want to... "

" I know why now. I didn't know it was that bad of a state, I thought they were over exaggerating everything again." You grabbed the broom and looked at minghao

" You're carrying the furniture"

" Fuck you, I just got my nails done. "

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You and Minghao were breathing heavily while looking around the room feeling a bit proud of your work, this was just the start of your little business. Soon this whole new renovation project of yours turned from days to weeks to months.

You rarely had the money to bring im furniture but your friends knew a guy and he funded your project. I swear you were so relieved you could have died if you had to spend another penny.

It wasn't easy but, finally it was opening day! You weren't expecting much people since you rarely advertised to others, only your close friends and family knew about this.

You decided to hire the boys since they were such good helpers in the renovating process(stress levels were higher than mouth everest).

Jun, Seungkwan, Seungcheol , Dk were working behind the cashier.

Woozi, Hoshi, Jeonghan, Joshua, Vernon were incharge of taking care of the plants.

Minghao, Dino & Wonwoo were social media team.

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" I feel so nervous, I bet no one will show up anyways! Its always like this every year. " you took a peak outside of the windows curtains, you only saw about 1-2 people anyways

"Cheer up y/n! I'm sure you can atleast get well a few more people. Our social media team is very good! " Dk reassured you, patting your back.

"Plus isn't it like 2 hours early? I'm sure time will pass by and more people will come " seungkwan commented, yeah he was right tho. Maybe you should stop worrying and focus on getting things ready for the non existent customers .

Opening time now. " shit, what if they all went away. My stomach hurts... " you placed your arms on your stomach covering it. "Well don't puke all over me.. " minghao rolled his eyes and looked at you with his iconic sassy face

" Its probably pre opening jitters, it will dissappear eventually! " the gentleman Joshua tried to calm you down as you seungkwan signaled that you opened the door. You hesitantly opened the door and flipped the sign to "open". " Welcome to Fallin' Flower shop! "

....

Suddenly people were SWARMING the store which shocked you, Jesus there was arround maybe 30 people waiting for this place to open.

" All the plants here are so well grown and displayed! " a customer commented, another said " No wonder why mingyu got excited over this place! " Mingyu?.. whos that.

" I know right! Mingyu has good taste in shops, I don't know how I never knew about this place before!! "

"Seems that Mingyu has seen my posts. Huh that idiots always posting, its expected that hes seen it. " wonwoo commented

Seriously who is mingyu... " Who? " you said dumbfounded at everyones comments

" You seriously don't know who that is??! " " No? " seungkwan was so close to shaking your dumbass " He's one of the most famous social media influencers in Korea right no! HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY NOT KNOW HIM. "

" And he's one of my closest friends since high school " Wonwoo added

" His name rings a bell, But why should I care? It's not like I'll ever meet him. "

Seungkwan looked at you like you just offended the president or something

" How stupid do you have to be to not connect the dots?... " seungkwan took one of the boxes that were sent by the mysterious donner and pointed at the writing "K.MG... try to guess what that stands for. "

" Oh. " oh is correct, but how the fuck did THE Kim Mingyu decide that this was the place he is going to donate to.

Suddenly you heard screams from outside, well not screams of terror but more of excitement.

" Here comes the dumbass ... " Minghao sighed as you looked over to see a very attractive man, he was tall and had a good figure.

He was surrounded by people, they almost look like they were crushing him.

Seungkwan quickly ran over to the door and closed the door and yelled " Thank you everyone for coming over were now closed for today goodbye! " and slammed the door

" I knew that people were that crazy over influencers but not thay crazy.... " you watched as the crowed became less and less after a few minutes.

After awhile the crowed completely disappeared, the tall man came inside the shop looking tired, he was basically gasping for air.

" Sorry it took me awhile to get in, *huff* "

The guy looked at you and he instantly felt like he choked on his own saliva, did he just fall for you on the spot?? Yes, he did.

You went up to him holding a glass of water "Here, you must be thirsty. "

God, mingyu couldn't even look you in the eyes, " You look better in person... " he mumbled out

"Hm, What was that? " " Oh, nothing.. thanks for the water. "

" Oh my god the himbos inlove 😟" jeonghan said, the rest of the guys all agreed as they were all just watching you two from the counter.

" So, want to hang out? " Hehe sure, meet me after we close the store at night. "

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Look i COULDN'T resist adding some smau panels

Yes thats scoups from the "what is wrong with you" one shot smau😊

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Cien rambles

AAAAA, anon hope you enjoyed!

[seryu-17]

Most underrated vocals in KPOP (my opinion)pt.1

My most underrated vocals in K-Pop. This is only my opinion and isn't supposed to hurt anyone. Let me know your opinion in the comments. Who do you think has underrated vocals?

I don't hate any of the idols or the groups. If I don't mention an idol that has an amazing voice doesn't mean I hate them, I am just gonna talk about the ones I think get too less attention. There are way more idols to mention!

The8: I mean, have you seen his voclas in "Fallin' Flower", "Anyone" and "Home; Run"!?!?!? ""Hai Cheng"?!?!? For me he has one of the most underrated vocals. Give this man some more lines please. Btw I love "Side by Side" both versions.

Jun: When we are talking about The8 than we also have to mention Jun as well! His vocals as well in ""Fallin' Flower" are just so underrated and amazing, but as well as in "_World"

S.Coups and Vernon: Vernon's part in "_World" and "Circles". S.Coups soft part in the end of "Rock with you" or "Circles" are just amazing. Their rap is even more amazing but when they have vocal lines they're killing it.

Wonwoo: Even if he is in the Hip-Hop Team, his vocals are so amazing. His low voice gets me everytime. Just look at "Circles" and "Ima". When he covered S.Coups part there. Everyone in SVT has amazing vocals in my opinion. The mentioned ones are just underrrated in my opinion.

Yuqi: Now that she dropped her first album she gained more attention, I guess but before that I think she mostly got praised for her deep voice and her nice vocals with her deep voice but she proved that she definetly can hit those high notes! For example the high note in "Eyes Roll" so amazing, my jaw DROPPED imidiatly. Don't get we wrong. I love Yuqi and her deep voice but when I heard her in "Eyes Roll"....damn.

Soyeon: jumping from Yuqi to Soyeon. I guess after Super Lady she defenitly proved that she can hit thos high notes. In a video she or Minne? said that neither Minnie nor Miyeon could hit the high notes in the beggining so Soyeon did it herself. I don't wanna say that Soyeon is a THE best vocalist in G-Idle, but she defenitly proofed that she isn't simply a rapper. She is also the one who records the song for the members so they know how they have to sing it.

RM: Just look at the song 4 o'clock by V and RM. He's an amazing rapper, but in 4 o'clock we can see that he has a soft deep voice and I appriciate that. But we can also hear his beautiful voice in his album "Indigo". Other example is his song "Lonely" and "tokyo". He's not my fav in this list but I defenitly think that his vocal potential is underrated!

Mina: I know, a lot like her and I do too, but I don't think that she gets the attention she deserve for her vocals. Her "Snowman" cover is absolutley beautiful, change my mind. But also her vocals in "Boqute", "Marshmellow" and "Do not touch" are sooooo beautiful.

Chaeyoung: Chaeyoung's cover of Justin Biber's song is just so good and I love the "Popstar Chaeyoung Remix". As well as Dahyuns vocals, aslo pretty underrated sometimes! Like her in "I GOT YOU".

Changbin: You you ever seen his performance in the masked singer??? I never could have thought that this is him. If you haven't seen it...here. I LOVE HIS RAP, but this...this is just different. I don't want to say that he has the best vocals in SKZ, I just think that his vocals are underrated.

11. Hwang Hyunjin: Watch his 00s "Psycho" performance. He sings the high notes. I just think that now day he doesn't get enough chances to proof that he can serve beautiful vocals as well. I know that Hyunjin gets praised alot, I just think that his vocals don't get enough attention. I mean, he is the Versace prince himself and SKZ attended the Met Gala.

All of these idols and groups are amazing and should be praised for their hard work and all the groups and idols I haven't mentioned in this round are also amazing and deserve every love and recognition. These are also just 11 idols which I mentioned, there are way more to mention. Let me know your opinion.