#and they named it Gymnopedie too LIKE

[d0lly-luv]

am gonna do @baeby-tc 's july tc challenge cuz I'm bored and can't stop thinking of him ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა

₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘

1) describe your tc's physical appearance -> tall, fully grey hair that he pushes back, wears glasses and has warm brown eyes. Has small wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and smile wrinkles too !

2) what's the first thing you've ever said to your tc ? -> I told him how nice it was to meet him and thanked him for coming when he had classes to teach 10 minutes later ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

3) is you tc single or taken ? And are you single or taken ? -> ☆ is single for as far as I know and I've been too since I was born

4) is your tc more of the athletic type, the nerd type or the artsy type ? -> def more of the nerd type (but I believe he's a bit of the other two as well)

5) if you and your tc were in HS together, do you think you'd be friends ? -> if we put my shyness aside then yes ! We're both passionate about history and literature and are both perfectionists so I believe we would ૮꒰ ˶> ༝ <˶꒱ა

6) name one song that reminds you of you tc and explain why it reminds you of them -> I'd say "gymnopedie №1" of Satie. He just has that really reassuring and warm but also wise and nostalgic aura around him and it's everything this music makes me feel

7) is you tc fashionable or are they more of the simple type ? What's one outfit you'd love to see them wear ? -> ☆ is more of the simple type : shirts and pants, cired black shoes... but God does he look good in those. The way he rolls his sleeves up ? Pure perfection. Angels would cry. There's no other outfit I'd want to him into, really

8) would you be willing to become a teacher and teach your tc's subject if it meant you two could be together ? -> that was actually the plan before I even met him (〃ﾉωﾉ) history has always been my passion and I've always wanted to teach it, seeing how great of a positive impact my teachers have made on me... so yes !

9) does your tc drink or smoke ? -> not that I know, again. Tho I'm pretty sure he must drink some wine here and there

10) name one item that is always on your tc's desk -> I've been to only one of his classes as I'm not his student yet, but I can totally figure ☆ always having a book on his desk

11) has your tc ever done something that has either thrown you off, angered you, etc ? If so, what did they do ? -> nothing.

12) has your tc have any past jobs that you know of before becoming a teacher ? -> well, he's been a historian before starting to teach so I guess that counts?

13) has you tc any kids or siblings ? If yes how many ? -> 0 kids, idk for siblings

14) are you taking your tc's class next year ? -> *in two years (;´-｀)

15) has your tc ever met your parents ? If you were there, what was the meeting like ? -> that hasn't happened but it's a possibility and it's making me scream internally. I have to be the best student he's ever seen omg

*I'll answer the rest either later or tmrw ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡*

₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘

[nochuelinha]

Chapter 6: Concordia

   Over the next few days Edward stayed in his room, he didn't go to school for a few days, but I managed to convince him to go hunting with me once, he was much faster than Emmett, more agile and quieter, he was like a born hunter, I was impressed. It was one of the best hunts I've had, but it still didn't do much for him, he was quieter and more taciturn than usual. Esme talked to him a lot, I didn't want to intrude, but I know she gave him a lot of advice. Every day she would leave a different kind of tea on the table in her room, then I would go to mine and spend my time reading or listening to music, if I was quiet enough I could get into a state that reminded me of sleep, calm and serene.

     Today what was occupying my mind was my History homework, I went downstairs to the library and sat in one of the armchairs, read what I was supposed to do and looked at the shelves, I have no idea where to start, I sighed and looked at some books. I read a few and did some research on the laptop that was there, but I couldn't connect the information very well, I started writing the article with the little I had understood, after a few hours I had something to hand in, it didn't look very good, but it was something, Jasper was standing in the doorway.

___ You're very quiet - I said without looking at him - But the smell of your cologne is very distinctive.

___ I thank Alice for that, she chose it for me - he came closer and sat down not far from me - What are you writing with such a sulky face? - he asked genuinely, I explained that it was my history homework, he asked me to take a look, he read it all very quickly and handed it back to me - It's not bad, but it could be improved, do you want help?

___ Help is always welcome, share your knowledge the wise man of the mountain - I made a joke and he laughed. He indicated the points I should change and where I should add more information. Not long after, I had three pages and an impeccable piece of work - The great sage of the mountain, thank you so much for offering such knowledge - I bowed slightly and stood up - Would you like some tea to pay for your help? - I offered humbly, he laughed and accepted. We went into the kitchen in silence, Alice was there making hot chocolate and humming a lively tune, I took a teapot and put the water on to boil.

___ What are you doing? - she poured herself a cup and sat down at the kitchen counter.

___ The great sage of the mountain was helping me with my history homework, as I don't have any gold to pay for, I'm going to make tea - I replied casually, Alice laughed and Jasper came up to her and hugged her, they were very cute together, Jasper's curly blond hair was a contrast to Alice's straight, spiky black hair. I calmly made two cups of tea and served Jasper, who thanked me and leaned against the counter next to Alice. I leaned against the sink with my own cup and felt the warmth pass into my hand. The warm, sweet liquid was very welcome to me, and I noticed the dark blue cup I had left in Edward's room earlier, empty - Do you think he's all right? - I didn't need to name names to let them know who I was talking about.

___ Of course he is, he just needs some time, it may not have lasted long, but you know, we feel everything more intensely, pain, joy, sadness and love, it's not just our senses that have been sharpened, our feelings have been too - Alice replied calmly, she knew the extra affection I had for him, I was an open book in her eyes - You help him a lot, you don't let him feel so alone, we don't have the tact for that, you can get closer to Edward Taciturn.

     If the least I can do is help, then I'll continue. It's probably still early, so I washed the few dishes that were there, including those of the couple who were keeping me company. For the first time in days the piano sounded, a calm, light melody that conveyed tranquillity, Gymnopedie. I recognized the notes, it was the first song I'd been able to play on my own. I went to the door of his room, it was open, I leaned against the doorframe and closed my eyes, I'll never get tired of listening to him play. I don't know how long I've been standing here, it seems like hours, could it be that he's playing it over and over again? After a few minutes, the silence came. I opened my eyes and he was standing with his back to the piano, looking at me. I smiled at him, he didn't say anything back, but I noticed the softness in his eyes.

___ Shall we play one together? - he asked me. I walked over and sat down next to him - Do you want to choose? - I nodded and started to play Etude No. 2, he followed me straight away, our fingers worked skillfully, the sound filled the room and I felt light every time I played, the music became more intense and strong, but it didn't lose its essence, I concentrated so as not to miss any notes, it was fun to play with him. He chose the next song, I recognized the first notes as Für Elise, and as softly as possible I joined him to play, in harmony we continued to play for hours. The rain began to sound outside as a complement to the music we were now playing, after two more songs, I stretched and got up, looked for something to check the time, an electronic clock next to his bedside read 7:32.

___ It's about that time, I have to get ready - I hurried back to my room, but I felt a hand grab my arm, I looked back without understanding and Edward pulled me into a hug. After a few seconds, I hugged him back.

___ Thank you for spending time with me - his voice was soft and sweet. I wrapped my arms around him tighter.

___ Whenever you need me - I replied against his neck, and after a few minutes he let me go, so I went back to my room, thoughts racing and embarrassed, took a quick shower and got ready. I went downstairs quickly and Alice was in the living room with a smug smile.

___ Are you a piano duo now? - she asked laughing. I patted her on the shoulder and showed her my tongue - Come on, they're waiting for us.

I got full marks for my history homework and I was so happy. I liked the school routine more than most, it was fascinating to learn new things and discover things I didn't know. I sat in Edward's seat in biology class, Bella came in and sat next to me, I was surprised by the movement but didn't say anything.

___ I didn't want to hurt him you know... - she started, her voice whispery and low, but she knew I was listening - He's sweet and passionate, he's like a real prince, but understand my side - I looked at her, my eyes fixed somewhere in front of her - Jacob and I have a long history, now with the Imprinting everything has become much clearer, when I saw it everything was upside down - she looked at me, I see the way you look at him, that's why at first I didn't like you, it was like you were a threat, but in the end I was the one who hurt him, so take care of him for me - I raised an eyebrow at her and laughed.

___ It's not like I'm going to do something just because you asked me to, it was you who chose to try and fight something that was already written to happen, I admire your courage and audacity in trying to pursue what you want, but deceiving your own feelings was a stupid way of resisting - she was listening intently, her eyes filled with water, damn it, that's not what I expected - L-Look, I'm not judging you, no one is in charge of your heart, just let things happen naturally, try to be happy and not look at the moments you had with him in an unhappy way, as much as you liked Edward, when you're with Jacob you light up like a Christmas tree, you seem more alive and warm, you suit the heat, not the cold, Jacob is like Phoenix and Edward is like Forks, and like everyone everyone has their preference - I smiled at her and she let the tears flow.

___ Thank you for talking to me - she was about to get up, but I held her arm.

___ We're going to do a pair today, if that's okay - she settled back in her chair and the teacher came in. We had to use the microscope to analyze onion roots, which was worth an excellent golden onion. We calmly did the work, between side conversations and unfunny jokes, the bell rang and we won the prize. In gratitude, she let me keep the vegetable. I ran into Alice in the cafeteria, and before I could sit down, she stood up and hugged me. I squeezed her and we stood there for a few seconds.

___ You were very kind to Bella, she's not a bad person, she just wasn't the right one - she whispered in my ear. We pulled away and sat down.

___ It seemed like the right thing to do - I crossed my arms and looked at her table - We're not in charge of our feelings - she looked at me, I raised my hand slightly and smiled, she smiled back - Changing the subject, I think I may have discovered my special power - I looked at Alice excitedly - This morning in PE class, Matheu wanted me to play basketball and he was insisting a lot, I looked deep into his eyes and told him to get out, and amazingly he did - I looked at everyone, but found Emmett looking at me with amusement.

___ I think he was just afraid of your ugly face - he teased me.

___ Emmett, get me some pineapple juice, now - I looked into his eyes and asked, as if he had control over his own body he got up and went to get what I asked for. Jasper started laughing, he brought me my juice and sat down with a frown on his face.

___ Don't do that again - he muttered like a tantruming child. I sipped my juice smiling. 

Concordia means harmony in Latin, do Edward and Stella have harmony?

[clockworkish]

I had to check whether it was satie's gnossienne or gymnopedie no 1 in the devil judge, yeah it's gnossienne no 1. I always get them mixed up.

Another piece of classical music they used sounded really familiar and i was racking my brain but couldn't come up with a name. Obviously it's rachmaninoff. I do often like russian composers. And cello pieces.

I like the soundtrack a lot. The whole series started with a song that i somehow knew the lyrics to, got to figure out which song that is too.

[swanconcerto]

hi hi I just came across Gymnopédie No. 1 by Erik Satie, was kinda shocked by the name, listened to it, found it really pretty and wondered if you've heard it, played it or have anything interesting to say about it. If you haven't listened to it, I would be very proud to recommend it to you

HI PEAR !!!! i love satie’s piano music i’m so happy you thought of me when you heard it!!! and yes i do play them!! i have a book of the 3 gymnopedies i like to read through them every once in a while 😊😊 and i wanna try the gnossiennes too i think i’ll do that tomorrow actually…. if you like gymnopedie no.1 you should listen to the others and also the gnossiennes!!!

[llamagoddessofficial]

Whilst I do adore Death God Sans, I simp for more FNAF! They got into the security office. Now what?

It'll depend on who gets in first.

Sans: He finally gets a chance to talk to her. Once she's stuck in a corner, he starts off with his customary automated "are you having fun here at the halloween pizza house? make sure to explore the restaurant to have a skele-ton of fun! ᶠᵘⁿ ᶦˢ ᵒⁿˡʸ ²⁰ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵃⁿᵗᵉᵉᵈ"

The joke, shockingly, doesn't land. But once he's gotten his forced greeting out of the way, he can actually talk to her. His very eerie and unanimated voice makes his declarations of 'we're not going to hurt you' hard to believe, but... his actions do prove it. With what little time he has, he introduces himself and the other two, and he tries so hard to make it clear that they like her and don't mean her any harm. we like you. we want you to stay. we just get upset when you shut the door on us. don't leave.

...

... By the time 6am comes, she's thoroughly freaked out... but is she intrigued? abso-fucking-lutely.

Red: He can't speak. And he doesn't want to frighten her. So once he gets in, he stands there, confused as to what to do... then sits on the office floor, staring at her. He doesn't touch her or jump at her... he does nothing aside from a few ineffectual attempts at speech that she can only make out one or two words from. It... sounds like he keeps saying "red"... his name, maybe?

... Red scares her the least out of the animatronics. Sans can talk, which is fucking freaky, and Skull constantly acts like he wants to eat her... but Red is borderline docile. Having him in the room with her brings her much less INTENSE PANIC than she thought it would. Eventually, when she sees he's not going to kill her, she sits on the floor too... and once he realises she's using the tiny bit of light coming from his eyes as comfort in the total darkness, he plays his music box tune to bring her some reprieve from the silence.

Skull: As mentioned before, because his hearing and vision are so fucked up, it's possible for her to hide from him so long as she stays dead still and quiet under the desk. He'll stand there waiting for something to happen because he could've sworn he saw her in here... He's actually the easiest animatronic to evade.

If he does find her, he grabs her, dragging her into his inescapable metal arms. She kicks and screams but it's no use, and her fear & confusion only mounts when he walks straight past the supply closet where all the suits are (she assumed he was going to stuff her) and just continues through the halls... until he comes to his hideout, his little den. He pulls her in with him... curls up in a damp corner and just... sits there with her. Holding her tightly. He tries to talk, but it comes out garbled and terrifying, borderline demonic... the other two walk by occasionally, unable to get in, with Sans saying some automated "please let go of the customer, they need to go and have fun!" that doesn't convince him. He just 'cuddles' her until it hits 6am and his gears freeze.

The 6:30 cleanup crew have to ragdoll his arm joints to get her out. He plays Gymnopedie while they free her.

[gar0uu]

the sound of a ghost (beth harmon)

The emptiness of the hotel lobby was somehow comforting. The only thing I heard was the soft click of my heels and my breathing. Maybe it was the fact my life had finally been silent since the competition in New Mexico City.

I laugh at my thoughts, silent? Yeah right, this is the loudest it’s fuckin’ been.

I breathed in the temporary silence anyway, and as soon as I exhaled, I heard it. The notes of a piano. 

The sad, empty notes of a piano. Playing something I never thought I’d hear again. 

Gymnopedie No. 1 composed by Eric Satie. 

The last time I heard this piece was in my mother’s eclectic living room, a beer sitting on the music shelf of the piano. My mother’s eyes were glossed over, and she was looking out of the window longingly, but she played this piece with perfect precision and gracefulness. I’m sure she could do it in her sleep. 

Perhaps she could do it in her grave.

I shook my head as soon as this thought came, following the piano notes floating through the air. They led me to a winding staircase, and I trailed my eyes to the balcony above. There I saw the edge of a glistening, black piano and the top of someone’s head. 

They sound just like my mother. 

With this thought in mind, I raced up the winding staircase. When I reached the top, the sound was at full volume; it was vibrating inside my head. My eyes trailed to the player. 

She is the type of girl you see and never forget; the girl that makes heads turn; the girl they write love songs about, the girl they write heartbreak songs about. 

Her eyes were closed and her frail hands traced across the keys like if she pressed too hard they might break, and yet the piano was as loud as ever. 

Then suddenly, she spoke, awakening me from my hypnosis. “Your hair,” she says. 

Her voice sounds like the white clouds on a sunny day, her voice sounds like the whispers through the pine trees. 

I subconsciously reached up to touch my red locks. 

Her eyes were open now, and they were all-knowing. I felt as if she might tell me my future, right then and there. 

“Your hair reminds me of fire,” she had stopped playing and turned her body towards me, “and your eyes are the reflection of that fire.” 

I blinked, my mouth slightly open. I heard my heartbeat in my ears. 

She smiles and I almost melt into a puddle, a smile you see once and never again. A star smile, I swear I saw supernovas in-between her teeth. 

“Don’t worry, ma bichette*, it’s a compliment.” She says her name. 

A long-awaited smile spreads across my face. “Beth Harmon.” 

I hold out my hand.

~~~

*my doe in french; not a cuss word hehe

[time-eclipse]

Gymnopedie No.1 (Donna Beneviento X reader)

You had known Donna Beneviento since you were both very young children. You never separated from her side. You loved her with all your heart and you promised your insecure friend that you would never leave her.

You had been there for her through out the death of her family. It was a dark time filled with nothing but heartbreak and sadness. Then Mother Miranda showed and she, for whatever reason, didn't approve of you seeing Donna. Donna begged Mother Miranda to let you stay once the feathered woman had adopted the young Beneviento. And after years of constant begging, Mother Miranda couldn't keep you apart. So, she gave in. You were extremely grateful that Mother Miranda had accepted. If you went home they would call you awful names because of your disability.

How you got the disability? You were walking in the village but you were attacked by one of the lycans before you could react. It managed to scratch your face before it was shot by Lucy, one of the members of the village. Unfortunately, the event left you blind. Lucy helped you back to the Beneviento Manor.

Donna was extremely stressed when she saw you and Lucy at her door, you bleeding out in front of her. Her shaking hands trembled as she took you from Lucy and thanked her quietly. Donna stayed with you that night. Holding you close. Her last human friend was nearly killed... And she couldn't do anything. You repeatedly that dreadful night. All the years you were there for her and she could finally be there for you.

Now here you are. Sitting in a carriage with your friend, on the way to the Dimitrescu castle. You placed your hand on top of Donna's when you felt were it was. She squeezed it. "Are we there yet!?" Angie, Donna's doll, complained. Donna sighed. "Donna!!" Angie huffed. "Fine I'm gonna sit on Blake's knee!" She hissed and you felt movement beside you before a small amount of weight on your knee making you chuckle fondly.

Donna squeezed your hand tighter. "What's wrong, Donna?" You asked with worry in your voice.

Donna pulled her hand away making you frown. "Nothing is wrong... I'm sorry. Just promise me something?" she question softly as always. Her voice was a gentle piano to you. It soothed you in every way.

You took noticed that Angie had stilled and was extremely quiet. It caught you off guard and put you on edge. "Yes?" you said, preparing yourself for what the veiled woman would say.

"Blake, promise me... That you won't leave me." She said and retook your hand tightly. Almost possessively. You took in a breath. This sounded like more of a beg than a request. You smiled putting your doubts in a jar.

You put your hand over your heart and swore to her. You would never leave Donna. No matter what life threw at you.

The carriage stopped when you arrived. You notice that Donna began to sweat slightly. The slight shake in her hand was enough to tell you that she was nervous. "We can wait a minute if you like?" you offered. Donna looped her arm in yours.

"No.. Its alright. We just need to go and eat then hopefully leave after I take Lady Dimitrescu's measurements." she replied and held you closer. Heat rose to your cheeks. You mentally scowled yourself. Donna didn't like you back... You were just friends and how it hurt.

You could hear... Nothing. Everything was deadly silent. Too silent. It made you pull Donna and Angie towards you. You heard Donna take in a shallow breath when your hand touched her hips. Your blush grew in embarrassment and you changed your hand position.

You could smell blood lingering in the air. Donna had informed you about all the Lords. Dimitrescu was the one family name that you were the most scared of.

Donna took the lead and lead you to the doors of the castle. "Donna!" a voice rang making you jump. "You came and you brought a guest!" you noticed Donna tighten her grip on you. Any tighter and you would have burst.

Angie wiggled away from your grip and you heard her patter away. "This is Lady Blake! She's Donna's best friend!! But don't you dare forget I'm better than her, tall one!" Angie shouted like an angry squirrel.

"My name is Lady Dimitrescu, doll!" the voice, Lady Dimitrescu, hissed in a bitter tone. Angie laughed and walked back over to you. Donna had told you about Lady Dimitrescu and her short temper but her incredibly tall height. You were also told that the lady Dimitrescu and Heisenberg didn't get on well... Didn't get on at all. "If you'd like to follow me, Donna, we'll have dinner first then you can take my measurements." she said and led the three of you to... Somewhere else.

Right away, you could smell all kinds of food. You hears some buzzing in the background. Donna took you to a chair and sat beside you. Immediately, you very subtlety began to feel around to get used to your new surroundings.

The buzzing got louder. Until you felt a hand on your shoulder. "Mother! You didn't tell us that Donna had a human pet!" A voice chuckled in your ear. You shivered a little. "she is so pretty mother!" the same voice laughed in kind. "What's your name, little one? Mine is Bela!" she said and touched you shoulder.

You smiled slightly. "My name is Blake" you replied. Then the two of you jumped into a pleasent conversation. You had to explain to her about your disability. The young dimitrescu was surprising very supportive and kind to you. Dinner was a blast! You and Bela got along really well. Perhaps a little too well...

Something wasn't right. You felt someone glaring at you. Like sharp daggers were been thrown at you. The only problem was that you couldn't tell who. "I think I should take your measurements now, Alcina!" Donna suddenly snapped. It made you jump. You had never heard Donna so angry before. It scared you. It was so out of character for her. Lady Dimitrescu hummed and you heard the clicking of heels walk far into the distance. Did you do something wrong?

°°°

When you returned to the Manor, no one said a word. Not even Angie. It put you on edge. You hated it. You couldn't sleep that night. Donna or Angie didn't even say goodnight to you! That hurt like a tone of bricks.

The next day you walked around the Manor with frightened eyes. "D-donna? Angie?" you stuttered. You had been calling them all morning. Why didn't they come to you? Donna would normally be by your side in less than a minute.

For the next few weeks you felt lonely. Like there was a heavy cloud hanging over your head. You heard shuffling in the background. You had assumed that it was just Donna's dolls but you heard footsteps. Real human footsteps. "Donna!?" You called out desperately. The footsteps stopped. It became agonising so that she was avoiding you. You burst into tears. You didn't know what you did wrong! "Donna? Please?" you begged between a torn sob. There was no reply but you did feel a little wooden hand against your arm. "Angie?" you said hopefully.

"Are you okay, Blakey?" Angie asked. You could actually hear the concern in her voice. It surprised you a little. You were expecting something sarcastic like 'Why such the sour face, B?' you were glad that the doll was actually concerned about your wellbeing.

You didn't answer. You couldn't. All you could think about was Donna. Did she hate you? No... Donna doesn't hate anyone... But then why the silent treatment? It was going to drive to you mad. She had never been angry with you. With a deep cry, you stood and ran back to your room. Angie shouted after you but to fail.

Once in your room, you began sobbing deeply into your pillow. You decided that you wanted to listen to some music. You felt around for your favourite CD and began to blast some depressing songs. Some were gentle and reminded you of Donna. It made you sob louder and louder until....

There was creak. You assumed it was the door. "Blake?" you immediately recognised the gentle voice. Donna! You flung up and called her name in hope. You felt weight beside you. Delicate hands wrapped around your form. "I-" you cut her off with a sob.

"What did I do, Donna?" you asked through your tears. "Why are you mad at me? Please tell me so I can fix it!" you begged, your voice breaking in several places. You noticed Donna tense. You hugged her close. Not wanting to let go of your friend. Wow... You never noticed how much the word 'friend' stung before.

Donna slowly relaxed and touched your cheek. "I wasn't mad..." She mumbled, pulling you closer. "I was scared." she admitted. Your brows furrowed and you were about to say something when she caught you off. "I didn't want you to leave me..." a sniffle came from Donna. In that moment, you had forgotten about all your saddeness. Donna mattered to you. You didn't want her to be sad You felt then reached for her veil. She pulled away. You frowned. She grabbed your hand and held it close to her heart. "I can't let you leave... You're all I have left. When I saw you and Bela..." a realisation hit you. You felt so stupid.

"Donna, I couldn't leave you even if I wanted to... You mean the world to me!" You promised and removed her veil before she had time to react. "Lady Donna Beneviento, I-" you stopped and choked on your words. You were scared to tell her. However, when she placed her hand on your cheek, you knew you had to tell her. "Donna... I love you..." you squeezed your eyes. "You are my world..." you finished and let the tears fall.

You expected something harsh in return. More silent treatments. However, you felt Donna weave her fingers through your hair. You leaned into her gentle embrace. You felt safe. Suddenly, you were pulled forward and your lips crashed onto hers. They were soft and tasted like cherry. She let you lead the kiss. Neither of you had ever done this with anyone before. You could feel her smile against your lips. "I love you too, My doll." she muttered shyly once you had both pulled away.

"ABOUT TIME!" Angie squealed happily while, you assumed, clapping her tiny wooden hands. You jumped slightly before laughing it off. Donna sighed deeply and pulled you closer to her. You smiled and cuddled closer. "LET ME IN!!!!" Angie hissed and snuggled in between the both of you. This was your little family and no harm would come to it for as long as you remained.

++++

Any requests? Let me know.

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression, radio version - Ep 61, Nov 2016 - Pun Art, Nikkatsu erotic movies revival.

Kaoru starts by saying at the time of broadcast the band will have just finished day one of the Namba Hatch lives during the Mode of Kisou tour. Joe was hoping to have been able to attend, but is not sure if he will, it depends on his schedule. Speaking of Osaka, Kaoru reminds Joe of the 'meat juice'(nikujiru/nikusui) word mix-up he made last time. Joe defends his use of 'nikujiru' with the idea that 'when you eat good meat in Osaka, meat juice comes out, right?'. Kaoru replies, laughing, 'Is THAT nikujiru?'.

Kaoru's first topic is from the world of art, and relates to a photographer who uses puns (in Japanese, ダジャレ/dajare) as the theme for their pictures, using the name 'Dajaart'. They try to make ordinary looking pictures into art by including visual representations of word puns. Kaoru describes some examples (*photos in link*) ..a photo of a bridge on Kanpachi dōri (環八通り), with a plate of amberjack fish (kanpachi/カンパチ) on the rail; a chair on some rocks with grass growing next to it, the pun being ナイスな椅子(naisunaisu/nice chair). Kaoru doesn't think much of this concept, and the fact that the photos are being exhibited in a gallery in New York makes him think that was the artist's goal. This kind of thing doesn't impress Japanese, but then again, the Americans won't understand it either. Kaoru doesn't think these photos count as art, and as a joke starts a new appeal for similar photo puns from listeners. He calls it 'Omoraat' instead of Dajaart. This being the lowest grade 'art' there is, they think it could be pretty funny, and probably a lot easier than the new jingle campaign. Kaoru then jokes they could hold an exhibition in New York displaying everything that gets sent in.

Kaoru plays a song by the Ramones for his second record, because he heard it being played during the boxing match between Manny Pacquiao and Jesse Vargas, and he thought he wanted to play it on this show too.

Next, they welcome Tasai for the Tokyo Sports corner. Tasai's news is about the revival of production of erotic movies/Roman Porno at the company Nikkatsu after a break of 28 years. The reaction to the first one at overseas film festivals has been good. The film in question, 'Aroused by Gymnopedies/ジムノペディに乱れる' by director Yukisada Isao was featured at the Busan International Film Festival, and Korean acclaimed director Kim Ki Duk liked it so much, he started saying he wanted to make Roman Porno too.

Tasai says he has seen the movie, and liked it. It has a very different feel from the old Roman Porno movies of the Shōwa era. The movie was made with a lot of rules for the production. E.g, it must be under 90mins, have a sex scene once every ten mins, be filmed in one week etc. Kaoru likes the idea of setting this kind of fixed frame and seeing what you can create within that. Tasai says that setting a frame like this allows directors who have never made Roman Pornos to easily make them, and that to be a director of Roman Pornos these days gets you quite a bit of respect within the film world. He gives the example of director Shiota Akihito, who apparently got an invite to the Bvlgari household, as the family are fans of his. Although this new Nikkatsu movie will get only a limited release in Japan, Tasai wants everyone to see it if they can.

Kaoru says he used to work a part-time job in Shinsekai, Osaka where Nikkatsu ran a movie theatre. After work he would go drinking late at night in that area. He liked the kind of image it had, and especially the image of all the old posters. But he didn't like the atmosphere inside as it was filthy, and smelled terrible.

Joe says this set of criteria for Roman Porno production reminds him a bit of a dance contest that he was the MC for recently. Every contestant in the competition danced to the same piece of music, but the differences between each dance routine was incredible, showing how creativity thrives in different ways under the same conditions.

To finish, Kaoru plugs the upcoming tours/lives /DVDs. As for the Uroboros tour due in 2017, he says he can't remember when they last played this album live, but its been a long time.

Kaoru then remembers about the upcomIng date in his home town in Hyōgo. The venue they chose (Amagasaki Archaic Hall) is actually the same venue Kaoru saw The Smashing Pumpkins play in 1996. He says at that time he was really looking forward to hearing the song 'Today', but was pretty upset that it turned out to be the acoustic version (*is this right?*), and was annoyed about it even when riding his bicycle all the way home after the show. He promises he won't disappoint the Dir fans there. He then reminds listeners about sending in funny pictures for the Omoraat campaign, and says he will give out lots of stickers.

Songs - Dir en grey/Umbrella, Ramones/Blitzkrieg Bop, Dir en grey/Uroko.

To radio top

[ladyrue]

15 for the ask game

Hello 👋 it's very nice to meet you 🖤🌹

15. name a musician that soothes you:

Instead of artists, it's more of certain songs that sooth me but I'll try to mention some artists whose songs put my mind at ease;

GOT7. I fell in love with their music and now I can't forget about them.

Classical musicians, like Frans-liszt and Tchaïkovski, as well as calm Pieces such as Gymnopedie and Liebestraum, the swan, Reflections by Toshifumi, etc.. I can mention a million of these

J-hope.

Micheal Bublé.

Cottagecore vibes artists and music.

Whoever made OSTs for Ghibli movies, may they end up in heaven.

Slowed versions of songs

I listen to alot of lo-fi artists as well.

Hope you don't find my music taste too boring lol but I promise these aren't the only genres I listen to 😅

Have a good day, lovely ☺🌹

[canonicallyanxious]

(and it’s just noise)

The Half of It | Aster Flores | 1.7k words

I was utterly taken by this movie when I watched it about a week ago and I got this tiny thing stuck in my head so I had to get it out. It’s a short pre-canon character study about Aster Flores that I had been intending on turning into a full fic, but character studies are Hard =[ I do like how this first part turned out so i’m sharing it here. Hope you enjoy! 

Title is from the song Geology by Barrie.

The day she got her first car, Aster went for a drive alone.

At the start it didn’t really feel like her car, not for the first ten miles at least and maybe not even for the next ten. She kept squeezing her hands around the steering wheel, her fingers continually drifting toward the volume knob on the radio. She could feel herself sitting up too straight in her seat, as if there was anyone in the car to chide her for poor posture. Even relaxing her grip around the steering wheel felt oddly wrong, as stupid as she knew that thought was. She’d saved for the car with almost a year’s worth of waitressing tips, had insisted to her parents she pay for it with her own money and had even paid for the first tank of gas herself. On paper this car was as hers as it could be.

(Then again, maybe that was what made it feel all the less real. She’d never really had something to call entirely, irrevocably her own; for a long time, she hadn’t fully believed it to be possible.)

She drove for a while. At a certain point - one she didn’t notice, but one that must have happened all the same - she did get used to the idea. She glanced in the rear view mirror, and saw that behind her stretched an empty road. And now she truly was alone. Almost as if her body was acting of its own volition, she could feel her shoulders relaxing, a tightness in her lungs settling. She didn’t quite understand why it was this that did it. There was something, though. Something in the long stretch of asphalt in front of her, curving off to reach an endpoint too far away for her to see. Something in the pale beams of sunlight that peered through gaps in the low-hanging clouds; the heavy and reliable solidness of the trees around her; the tinniness of the radio playing a station that for once she’d gotten to pick. 

(Just something.)

It was strange. There were times when her loneliness felt so vast and all-encompassing, she didn’t know what to do with herself. She had this habit of imagining the loneliness as a pit and herself standing at the precipice with her toes peeking over the edge of it, staring into the void and wondering if the bottom existed. Those days and sometimes those nights when it felt like someone had scooped her insides clean out of her ribcage so that she was left cold and aching and wanting - something, anything. Half the time she didn’t even know what it was. It wasn’t like she didn’t have friends. It wasn’t like she wasn’t surrounded by people every second of her life. It wasn’t like they didn’t see her. 

(Or maybe it was that they did see her. Maybe that was the whole problem.)

Sometimes, though, like now, it was different. Sometimes her loneliness (and she was used to the way it clung to her, at this point, how it shrouded every corner of her life with a familiar and aching sort of silence; it was the only thing she’d ever truly thought of as hers, for better or for worse) was bearable enough that it didn’t threaten to consume her from the inside out. In times like these, it never felt like loneliness. It always felt like something else.

Solitude. Maybe that was the word for it. On the surface, it seemed like the same thing, almost exactly the same thing. It wasn’t. She knew it wasn’t. 

(She was the only person she knew who cared about the right words for things. Maybe she cared too much. What counted as too much? She didn’t know.)

Aster would have liked to fool herself into thinking she didn’t know where she was going, but the truth was she’d known from the very start. She’d found this hot spring - her hot spring, she didn’t have the right to think but still did when she wasn’t careful - on a summer hike with her family. She’d been tired of the noise (when was she not?) and when she’d had her limit she’d peeled away from the rest of the group, using the GPS on her phone to navigate through the woods. Eventually she’d lost cell signal but she’d barely noticed because that was the moment she’d found the spring. The water had been warm, and the air had been quiet. She’d stayed a long time.

When she’d rejoined her family - not that difficult, in the end, because they hadn’t made much progress since she’d left and she’d always had a pretty decent memory for directions anyway - her mother had been livid. You didn’t answer your phone, she’d scolded, you just up and left without telling anyone, how irresponsible, how ungrateful, how could you worry us like that. Aster didn’t remember too many of the details of what she said, honestly. What she remembered was looking up, away to a certain tree in the distance. The branches of it swaying lightly in the wind. What she remembered was tilting her head, and thinking - 

(How nice it would feel to be moved by the wind. How nice it would feel to be blown to a place far away that she’d never heard or dreamed of, to leave her fate to an invisible force that defied gravity itself. How nice it would feel to be okay with that.)

Oh, to be okay with things. It was a question Aster turned over in her head as she sunk into the familiar depths of her hot spring. Okay felt like such a small and innocuous word. It should be easy to feel okay. It should be utterly inconsequential. In fact, would it not be a failure of some kind if she didn’t feel that way? It was the bare minimum to achieve with one’s life, completely within her grasp and yet some days it was a feeling as elusive to her as love itself. 

(Some days she wondered if she even knew what it looked like.)

Aster tilted her head back to the sky. She let the water submerge her ears until all the noises of the world blurred into silence. It was like slipping into a world of her own. No one to see her; no one to listen to. 

(Just her thoughts. Only her thoughts.)

She’d never shown anyone this place before. Not her family, not her friends. Not Trig (especially not him). she couldn’t imagine anyone she knew even attempting to understand what made this place so special. If she tried to explain (not that she’d ever be able to find the words) they’d probably smile blandly and wait for her to finish so they could leave to find something more interesting.

(Wasn’t that what they always did?)

Maybe there were some things she didn’t know about herself. Maybe there were a lot of things she didn’t know about herself, but she did know that it would break her entire heart to show her hot spring to someone who didn’t understand. Not that it wasn’t something she was used to. She had a whole list of things she didn’t expect other people to understand: her family; her books; her art. It had broken her a little, when she was young, to be confronted with that knowledge. She had imagined herself cradling the glass of her heart in the palms of her hands and soothing her fingers over the cracks until you could barely tell they’d existed at all. She had imagined herself doing it enough times that now she did not crack, not even a little bit; now she only smiled.

This, though, was different. This would not leave behind a crack she could repair. This would cleave her in two, tear her apart until she could hardly remember her own name. As stupid and small as that thought seemed, it was the truth.

Thus she couldn’t imagine ever bringing anyone here. Not because she didn’t want to (rather, she wanted it too much). For now, though, she was happy (more than) to keep this secret to herself. 

(There were already so many she stored in the special hidden place under her sternum, a hollow she had discovered as a little girl where she now kept all her secrets neatly lined up in a row, as far as the eye could see. On top of all that, what was one more?)

The silence was nice. Music was also nice. Aster heaved herself out of the hot spring and pulled her radio out from behind a rock. She twiddled the knobs of the radio until she reached a classics station, and she leaned back on her hands, and she listened. “Gymnopedie Number One,” the host said evenly into the microphone. The first chords warbled from the radio’s speakers. The sound of them soothed her, made something feel calm and quiet inside of her.

The sound of the piano was a very nice sound.

In a different life, perhaps, whenever Aster was ready to leave she would get into her car and roll the windows down and drive, drive until she found another place that made loneliness bearable, all the places that were like that across the entire country. There surely were more than this; there had to be. She imagined herself driving and driving and driving, never stopping, always looking. She imagined a world in which there were always more pockets of silence to find and make a home of. She imagined making the entire world her home. 

(In that world, she would be happy.)

She smiled softly to herself, at herself and her naivety. It was a sweet dream, but a dream nonetheless. She didn’t live in that world; she lived in this one. And in this world she would get into her car and keep the windows up and drive all the way home. She wouldn’t so much as take a single detour. She would pull into her driveway and go into her room and fall onto her bed. Night would fall. In the silence of the darkness she would stare at the ceiling, and pretend she wasn’t dreaming of all the lives she could never have. 

(That was what she would do because that was what she always did.)

For now, at least, Aster didn’t have to pretend. For now she closed her eyes, the piano from the radio carrying her thoughts away like the wind, and dreamed of nothing at all.

[fic-ya-later]

Not Gonna Die: Chapter 1

Summary: Castiel is depressed, however he has to return to work even if he doesn’t want too. 

Warnings: Mentions of death and depression. 

A/N: Hey guys! I am so excited to post this here! If you like what you see send me a message; I’d love to hear your thoughts! My request and taglist are OPEN so let me know if you’d like to join it or like something written! I’m working on honing my writing process and style to work on an original piece I’ve had ideas for so if you are a fellow writer send me a message and we can chat about ideas and processes! I hope you enjoy this work!

Series Masterlist

Chapter One | Chapter Two 

Castiel couldn’t tell how many times he had played Clair de Lune, but it was more than the number of whiskey tumblers he had drained in the last two hours of playing. He couldn’t seem to find the end; cadence would lead to cadence and he’d find himself resolving back to the beginning of the piece each time. Each pass through the melody something was different, Castiel’s fingers hesitated on a note, or he dampered a run’s end to cause the chord to linger in his ears. No, Castiel did not like endings. In his small apartment the baby grand echoed with grace. The rain on the glass wall of his apartment created a soft backdrop for the otherwise barren expanse of the room. 

A pause in the music filled the air as Castiel reached for the fifth to refill his tumbler, only to find it, to his surprise, empty. What time was it? 11? 12? He couldn't tell any more. He set the bottle on the floor and looked up, running his hands down his face when he saw it. The only picture in the whole house sat on the small table in the corner. The soft hazel eyes smiled at him, and Castiel started another melody as tears swelled in his. This time the melancholy was more than a subtext to the music. He let his fingers linger on each note, the vibrations filling him as Gymnopedie No. 1 filled the room. He would’ve continued like this for hours just as he did the last night, and the night before last, and the one before that, but the vibrating of his phone across the room put an end to his thoughts. 

GABE CALLING

With a sigh Castiel silenced the phone. He didn’t need yet another worried sibling bothering him during his self-loathing sabbatical. Not that it mattered. Most of them didn’t care what he was doing, as long as he wasn’t tarnishing the family’s name. Novak. He cursed his father’s last name for the weight it carried. So many knew the Novak technology empire that when they found out Castiel was a part of the family there was a look people would give him which accompanied the customary “why didn’t you follow your dad’s footsteps”. Castiel hated that question. At first he tried explaining that humans are just so interesting, and he felt it was his mission to protect and save them. After he changed his last name people asked why he didn’t capitalise on the familial fortune; he grew tired of explaining that he had all he needed and then some. After he moved away from Boston they would ask what he was running from. Now he had no answer. The past? The future? His family? He didn’t know, but there was something about the beauty of Colorado that just drew him in. There is a real connection to the Earth here. Castiel knew it was where he needed to be the first time he flew out to interview for Boulder City General; if he hadn’t been welcomed to their surgical team, well, he would have flown out to this very house no matter what and become a hermit. 

GABE CALLING

Again his brother tried and failed to reach Castiel. The ringtone fell on deaf ears as Castiel was asleep on his sofa, completely dead to the world. 

Most of Castiel’s dreams held little power over him. There was the odd dream of his mother which gifted him with comfort and peace. The dreams of wings that left him feeling assured and powerful. Then there were the dreams of forests, forests filled with green which left him waking with the constant uneasy edge of something invisible being out of place. These were the only dreams he cared for; the rest of them he chalked them up to subconscious ramblings of an overworked surgeon. These were the dreams of before. Now mostly he dreamed of red and the whine of equipment. 

Blue eyes snapped open. Another of those dreams. With a groan Castiel rolled to his side. 4:12 flashed too brightly into his eyes. He blinked and refocused. May 12. With a sigh Castiel decided the best thing he could do would be to roll himself out of bed and clean up. He returned to work today and the scruff growing down his face and neck simply wouldn’t do. “What have I become?” Steam filled the room and doubt filled his head. “She was just a child.” “You did everything you could” “There had to be something you missed.” Thoughts spiralled through his head as he showered. 

Two weeks ago Castiel met a new patient. A girl of only 12 named Claire. One week ago she went into the OR for a routine valve transplant. One week ago Claire died as Castiel stood over her with his decades, it seemed like centuries actually, of knowledge failing him. The operation was supposed to be straightforward, Castiel had accomplished successful surgeries in far worse circumstances, but when she flatlined he was completely at a loss. Nothing in his past hurt worse that the look on her mother’s face as he walked solemnly into the waiting room. Castiel walked out of the hospital that day fully intending on never walking back in. A stranger was the one who convinced him to take a sabbatical rather than retire a whole career early. 

GABE CALLING

“Gabe.”

“Hello to you too Castiel.” The silence between the two stretched through the room. “You know what day it is today, right Cassy?” 

“Yes. The days don’t change each week Gabriel. I know when Monday is.”

“And we know what happens today. Right?”

“You don’t need to talk to me like I'm a child. I'm trying not to think about it.”

“You’re going to do amazing!”

“Will you bring me lunch?”

“Of course. The usual right?” Cas smiles and hums in response. “Thought so. Don’t stress too much Cassie, I’ll be right down stairs if you need anything.”

“You can do so much better than janitor Gabriel if you ju-”

“Don’t start with me. I’ll work on my life as soon as I can stop worrying about yours little brother. Now get dressed, give Chevy a kiss for me and get your perky ass to the hospital before I have to drag it there myself.” 

Gabe hung up before Cas could even retort by inquiring how his older brother knew the shape and lift of his rear, but he did leave a smile on the surgeon's face. As if on cue, knowing her being was mentioned, a meow cut through the empty apartment and the ashen coloured creature wrapped herself around Cas’s legs, her otherworldly eyes staring up at her human with mild disdain. Chevy was a rescue, Castiel took her in after she was dropped off at the clinic Gabe was working at at the time. They all assumed she was blind, her eyes wouldn’t open for weeks, and that she had been hit by a car. The gruff older man who dropped her off had said he would come back for her if she improved, a gift for a family member he said, but then he never came. So Chevy became Castiel’s. After weeks of nursing her wounds and staying up all night to ensure her health, she finally opened her eyes and looked at her new human with mild affection. Upon seeing her eyes Castiel knew she was meant for him, one stark, pure blue eye, and one warm, deep green eye had blinked at him and she decided that he’d do. 

“I see you little lady. Let’s get you some food before dad goes to work.” While Castiel was never fond of people in general, he had a soft spot for animals and especially for Chevy. She always was so intune with him, and he wanted the best for her. After her water was freshened and a delicate mix of chicken and cat food mix was placed in her dish up on the counter in the bathroom, Castiel continued to ready himself for work. He showered and shaved quickly, trying not to glance at the scars on his back or on his wrists before dressing in freshly pressed trousers and a white button up.

“You get a kiss from Uncle Gabe this morning.” He scratches the cat’s chin before looking in the mirror one last time, face solemn and firm. “You can do this.”

-------

The hospital was as busy as ever, it was like Castiel had never left, that is until director of surgery Zachariah Adler made himself known. The snivelling man was everything that Castiel considered himself not to be: slimy, greedy, an overall pushover if it meant keeping his image and status, and worst of all he had very little regard for others or the lives that fell into his care--just as long as his numbers look good at the end of the quarter. 

“Good to see you back Dr. Allen. I trust your week was...productive?” The director’s tone signalled to Castiel that he had to tread very carefully within the brief conversation.

“Yes Director, very productive. I spent much time focusing on updating my reading on surgical advancements made in the treatment of Abdominal Aortic Aneurysms. It proved quite provoking and has led me to belie…” 

“Yes, yes. Very good. I trust we won’t have any more issues then?”

“No sir.”

“Very good.” The director turned on his heel and left as swiftly as he came, and with not so much a nod in Castiel’s direction. 

“Good morning to you too.” Cas grumbled as he made his way to his office. Not much had changed, but there was a small layer of dust coating most surfaces he would have to wipe off on his lunch today. The tiny office was perfect for the surgeon’s needs. The north and east walls were adorned with meticulously organised and cared for bookshelves. The south wall held a bulletin board next to the door, and the west wall was nothing but glass. That overlooked Boulder City and the mountain range beyond. His desk was always kept neat, the only clutter taking the form of an organiser for his active case files and his in/out box, which had far more in it that he would’ve liked at this point, but that is the life of a surgeon. 

Just as he’d settled in there was a tap on the door.

“Come in.” Cas absentmindedly called out as he remained buried in a case file that required some attention. 

“Dr. Allen?”

“Mhhh.”

“Doctor Bradbury needs you for a consultation.” The voice was firm but cautious.

“Is it urgent or shall I schedule her in?” Castiel still had yet to look up from his case file, consultations were often needed when a surgery or procedure could potentially have adverse effects on a patient beyond the single issue.

“She already has requested you for a 10 am. If that’s amenable of course.”

“Mhhhm. That will do, please tell her I will be in my office Dr….” Blue eyes meet deep green.

“Nurse. Uh, Winchester.” 

“Yes, thank you Winchester. Have you worked for Dr. Bradbury long?” The tanned face was not among the carefully catalogued members of staff within Castiel’s brain. 

“First day. I will let her know you’re available. Thank you Dr. Allen.” As quickly as he came he was gone and Cas was left staring blankly at the empty doorway, wondering why those eyes captivated him so. There was a faint smell of leather lingering throughout the room that continued to mildly distract him for the remainder of his boring morning of answering emails and setting up appointments for referred clients. Just before he had his meeting with Dr. Bradbury, he was tempted to look up the new nurse in the directory, but stopped himself out of habit. New people often intrigued him, and he knew he could come on quite strong to the ‘uninitiated’ as Gabe called it. Perhaps he would be able to run into him at some point, it would seem those green eyes captivated Cas in a way he was unfamiliar with.

Another knock on the door. This one he was expecting, so he rose and greeted his friend and colleague warmly. 

“Cas!” Once the door was shut OBGYN and friend Charlie Bradbury has her arms wrapped snuggly around Cas’s shoulders, he could feel the grin through his lab coat.

“Hello Charlie, it’s good to see you.”

“You too! How are you doing? You cant just ignore me like this; I didn’t know where you were for a whole week! You even missed theme night at the Roadhouse!” The bubbling redhead would go on forever if he let her.

“Charlie.” She quiets. “I’m okay, and yes I will be going to the Roadhouse tonight, and yes I know it’s cowboy night” --- “and girl” --- “Cowperson night. And I wasn't ignoring you, I was taking a brief leave of absence to deal with personal matters. If you wish, we can arrange lunch this week and I can fill you in.” She eagerly nods. “What did you need to see me for?”

“There's the Dr. Castiel Novak I know.” The resulting glare from the blue eyes makes her shiver. “Sorry Castiel. It's a habit. I’ve known you too long.”

“I know, please just be careful. I do not wish for certain members of faculty to know my upbringing or history. I've been passing as human for this long; I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Of course,” She nods sympathetically. While most people were open and accepting to the supernatural since the fall of heaven and closing of hell, many people were still quite superstitious and prejudiced against any nonhumans. “Well, to business. I've got a case that's really troubling me. It’s quite delicate, as the case is slightly personal to one of my staff members. I have a patient. Jessica Moore. She just came in for her routine prenatal and I discovered a heart murmur. I think we might have a tricuspid atresia. To make matters worse Ms Moore is having a difficult pregnancy to say the least. Her attachment is weak and she’s beginning to show signs of preeclampsia.” 

“That is quite a combination.”

“Yes it seems that childbearing does not become her. She's the girlfriend of the brother of one of my nurses. I was hoping I could get you in for her next scan, she's due to have another ultrasound at 26 weeks. I’m worried we are going to end up having to either induce her or order a cesarean to maintain both of their healths.” Charlie’s face contorted with sadness at that. Castiel always admired the care she had for her patients. 

“When would this be?” He opened his diary.

“Two weeks, Monday.”

“Yes I can be there. Have someone drop by the details later in the week so I can ensure I am up to date on the case.”

“I’ll have Dean drop them off to you tomorrow them.” 

“Dean... that’s not a name you’ve used before.”

Charlie smiled at Cas cheekily. “Nothing gets by you Cas. Dean is a new midwife in my department. Came to me straight from the military believe it or not. He’s well over qualified for working with me, but I’m not complaining that I have the most capable, attractive, nerdiest midwife in the west at my fingertips.” She flashed a grin.

“How do those last two make him an effective nurse?” 

“They don’t but I wanted to see your reaction. You met him this morning right?”

“Ah so that was the mystery nurse.”

“Yes. Now you can’t go scaring him away. He's already been invited to join the Roadhouse gang. Garth asked him this morning. The two are becoming rather fast friends I’d like to think. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yes Charlie, I’ll be there with spurs on.”

“Kinky…” She winks as she leaves the room, and leaves Castiel to his thoughts.

As the day drug on, Castiel became so busy he barely noticed when his lunch hour came up. Jumping out of his chair he swapped his lab coat for a cardigan and went to meet his brother for the lunch he was promised.

[p-artsypants]

Longest Night (27) Grooming

Marinette had thought Highschool had been hard. Right now, in this moment, she'd give anything to go back to those petty arguments and gossip fueled drama. But she couldn't. Instead, she and Adrien were trapped here, being punished, humiliated, tortured, for being heroes, all broadcasted for the world to see. At least she and her kitty were in this together. For now. Whump!Fic

Ao3 | FF.net 

Let’s take breath, shall we?

—

Paris was a city trapped in time. The rain blurred the past from the future, the happy and the sad, the night and the day. Erik Satie tried to emulate this effect with his Gymnopedie, and the impressionist painters worked with soft edges to create an atmosphere of calming mystery.

Here, on the sidewalk somewhere in Montparnasse, Adrien and Marinette, or rather, Grimalkin and Lady Lacrima, stood in the haze, freedom and imprisonment blurring lines. They were out, Salo was dead…

But it didn’t really feel real.

Lady Lacrima stood back and looked to her partner.

His eyes were dilated, a small smile on his lips. He ever so gently reached up and brushed her bangs out of her face.

Returning his smile, she took his hand and interlaced their fingers. Then they started to walk.

It was too wet to take to the rooftops, and in this weather, no one was out. Still, as they walked, they passed big picture windows. Businesses closed for the night, cafés dimmed with candlelight, people in their own little bubbles, completely unaware of the monsters stalking outside.

They walked passed a salon, empty, save for a woman with a blonde bun sweeping. The lights were warm, and the atmosphere looked friendly and inviting. There was a tv on the wall, with Nadja on the screen. She was reporting on them. A screen capture of their final words to the camera shown on a small screen next to her. Lady Lacrima couldn’t hear what was being said, but by the grave look on Nadja’s face, it wasn’t good.

Without much thought, Lady Lacrima pushed on the door, and went inside.

The air smelled of chemicals, of hairspray and dye. But also fruity and clean. Soft music played as the woman worked.

“Just a second!” Called the woman, alerted by a bell at their entrance. She leaned the broom against the wall. “I’m so sorry, we’re about to close, but I can take you down for an appointment to—AHHH!” She spoke before turning around, but when she saw them in their appearance, she shrieked.

Neither of the akuma reacted to it, considering the amount of screams they had heard not so long ago.

Another woman with short black hair ran out of the back room at the scream and skittered to a stop at the sight of them. She looked like she was about to scream too, but held it back.

“We wanted out of the rain.” Explained Lady Lacrima, blankly.

The blonde woman snatched up the broom like a weapon, trembling in her limbs.

But the other woman relaxed ever so slightly, and took a few steps towards them. “Marinette? Honey, it’s me, Jillian. You remember right?”

“…Jillian?”

“That’s right. I cut your hair every few months. It’s alright.” She took another step towards her, but Grimalkin stood in between and hissed.

“Oh! And Adrien! We’ve…we’ve never met, but we’re all big fans of yours.” She pointed to a poster on the wall, an old ad with his face on it.

Grimalkin’s eye twitched, but he calmed down slightly.

Jillian looked to her coworker. “Kelly, put that thing down. We have guests.”

“Didn’t you just see the news?” Kelly whispered harshly. “They just murdered like ten people.”

“Fourteen.” Lady Lacrima clarified. “We killed fourteen people.”

“See!?”

Jillian took a shaky breath. “Look…I’m not…I’m not sure what we should do in this scenario.”

“We should call the police!” Shouted Kelly.

Grimalkin snarled, getting on edge again.

Jillian hushed her. “Would you calm down a second?”

“No!”

“They’ve been through a lot of trauma, okay? I’m not going to pretend like those people didn’t deserve it—“

“Oh they definitely did!” Kelly agreed. “I’m just saying—“

“Look at them Kelly.” Jillian gestured. “They’re tired, dirty, and hurt. I’m sure there’s going to be a whirlwind of police and hospitals and…whatever. Let’s just…give them a few minutes out of the rain, okay? Where they can breathe and…I don’t know, relax?”

Marinette frowned to herself. Relax? What did that mean anymore?

“Marinette honey,” Jillian said walking closer. “Your hair is disgusting.” She chuckled.

That was something Lady Lacrima couldn’t argue with, and she twitched her lip in a smile.

“Can I wash your hair? Give you a trim? It might make you feel better.”

Feel better. That’s all they wanted. They wanted all this rage and pain and hurt to go away.

She nodded stiltedly.

Kelly seemed to come to grips with what they were doing and smiled a little more at Grimalkin. “And what about you Adrien? Would you like your hair washed? I know cats don’t really like water…” She chuckled.

The joke made Grimalkin’s eyes dilate and his ears perk up. He looked to his lady, asking her to answer.

She met his gaze, translating his look. “As long as he can keep an eye on me.”

“Of course! We’ll put you right next to each other, and you can hold hands!” Jillian grinned. “C’mon, right here. Just settle in and relax.” She gestured to two chairs with sinks connected to the head rests.

Kelly walked over to the door. “I’m going to lock the door so no one comes in. You can still leave anytime you want, though.” Then she closed the blinds on the windows so no one would look in.

Both of the akuma sat down carefully, watching the hairdressers as they got their supplies ready.

“Now,” began Jillian, playing with Lady Lacrima’s hair. “I can see already that your tattoo has some infection on it. It’s not really bad, the first letter just has some blistering on it. I can apply some rubbing alcohol to help…but you really need to get to a hospital when you can.” She ran her thumb over it lightly, making Lady Lacrima wince. “For other reasons too, of course.”

Grimalkin heard her wince and sat up to growl at Jillian, but Lady Lacrima just squeezed his hand in reassurance. Hesitantly, he leaned back again.

Kelly came around to make eye contact with him. “Chat, your left ear is really infected, and the right may be so too. I can also put some rubbing alcohol on it, but it won’t really help. Don’t take out the earrings either, or else the holes will close with the infection still inside. I’ll try to be careful, but I might bump them while I wash your hair.”

Grimalkin frowned slightly, but gave a little nod in understanding.

Then they both heard the sinks turn on, and braced for cold water to splash them.

But it didn’t. Jillian and Kelly just sprayed their scalps with a warm, gentle stream. Then they started to massage shampoo into their long overdue hair.

“This shampoo is specially designed for thick blonde hair,” Kelly commented, carefully scrubbing days of oil out of his locks and making the color shine again. “It’s Diamond Oil from Redken. Your color has faded with your natural oils and lack of vitamins. This should make your hair feel nice and silky.”

A loud purr cut through the air as Grimalkin closed his eyes and enjoyed the ministrations.

Lady Lacrima sighed softly in return. “This feels nice.”

“Good, you deserve it. I’m sorry I can’t offer more.”

“This is fine.” She insisted. “We have some business to take care of after this. Then we’ll be getting proper treatment.”

“Oh good!” Chirped Kelly. “I was worried! Because akumas aren’t really…they don’t really give up on their own…”

“The suits that Hawkmoth have provided us act like exoskeletons. Our wounds are packed.”

“Still…” said Jillian. “Don’t let this business take you too long. A lot of people are worried about you both.”

Lady Lacrima rolled her eyes despite the sad tone she spoke with. “You mean my parents? They’re just about the only people that ever believed me. Everyone else thinks this whole thing was a hoax. No one even tried to save us.”

Jillian rinsed the shampoo, and then knelt at Lady Lacrima’s side and took her hand. “Marinette, a handful of gullible people believed it was a hoax. Everyone else in Paris, in France, the whole world even…we believed it was really happening. And people tried to find you…I’m sorry that they couldn’t.”

“Like who?” she challenged back.

“Like the police. At least four investigators were killed while looking for you.”

Lady Lacrima didn’t have an answer for that, and so she didn’t say anything.

“Rena Rouge, Carapace, and Queen Bee were also spotted a handful of times,” Kelly added. “But for a while, the police were saying you were in Germany.”

Rena Rouge.

That name sparked anger in Lady Lacrima.

Alya.

Her best friend.

Ex-best friend.

Who had turned her back when Marinette needed it the most, trusted a liar and left her in the dust. It was a petty high school squabble, one that most people would have forgotten and let go of, considering the circumstances.

But Marinette had a lot of time alone with her thoughts. A lot of time to stew in her hurt from her betrayal.

The Cesaire apartment wasn’t that far away. Alya would be first. A warm up.

Jillian spoke again. “You’re tensing up. I’m supposed to be helping you relax. I’m sorry. I’ll shut up.”

Yes, revenge would come, but this was now. And she wanted to feel better.

Jillian rinsed the conditioner. “You know, I’ve got this facial cleanser from Lancôme, would you like to try it?”

“Alright,” Said Lady Lacrima.

Jillian squirted some mousse onto her fingertips and gently began to massage the cleanser onto her face. “Smells nice, right?”

“Feels nice.”

The bubbles turned pink with the blood they picked up. But the black streaks under her eyes remained. Jillian passed the cleanser to Kelly so she could put some on Grimalkin’s face.

“There,” said Jillian as she dried off her hands. “Just relax for a minute and let the cleanser have a chance to get into your pores. We’ll be right here.”

At first it was relaxing, the month of grease being lifted from her skin as the bubbles tingled. But then the silence became maddening, and she became paranoid. And by the way Grimalkin squeezed her hand, he was too.

“Jillian? What are you doing?”

“I’m getting you some wine. Just a little. I don’t have any food unless you want a sucker.” She chuckled.

“And Kelly?”

“I’m just sweeping!” She called from the other side of the room.

Jillian came back over, and a wet washcloth delicately cleaned off the suds. She then placed a dry towel on her hair. “Alright, let’s get you into a chair.”

Kelly mirrored the action with Grimalkin, careful of his ears, both fake and real.

They moved over to a pair of barber chairs, positioned just a little too far away to hold hands.

Grimalkin whimpered.

“I’m right here, love.” Lady Lacrima said softly. “It’s alright.”

Jillian handed them both a glass of red wine, before getting to work tying a smock on their shoulders. Then they were both turned to face the mirrors.

In this lighting, the damage was even worse. This was the first glance they got to their akumatized forms.

“Is that me?” Lady Lacrima asked, distressed by how deranged she looked.

“You look pretty badass.” Said Kelly. “Don’t stress out about it. You don’t plan to be akumatized forever, right?”

“I…I guess not…”

Still, it was a jarring sight. She barely recognized herself.

“Marinette, I used a lot of conditioner, but your hair is still pretty tangled. This might hurt.”

“Okay.”

She could hear Grimalkin whimper again as Kelly started to pick through his tangled mess. She cooed over him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

It didn’t last too long though. Soon, the teeth of the comb were gliding through her locks and dragging across her itchy scalp. Lady Lacrima sunk into her chair and exhaled loudly.

“Will it bother you if I use an electric razor?”

“Since you warned me, it should be alright. What about you kitty? Can you handle that?”

Grimalkin let out a relaxed sigh.

“He’s alright with it.”

So Jillian and Kelly got to work, trimming and evening out the hack job Salo had done.

“There. That’ll do for now.” Jillian took off the smock and brushed the loose hair from her neck. “Come see me again sometime. We’ll make sure to take good care of you.”

Lady Lacrima finished off her glass. “Thank you, Jillian. Kelly. Once we give up our akumas, I doubt we will remember this. But we do appreciate your hospitality.”

Kelly towel dried Grimalkin’s hair, fluffing it up. “There, now you look a little less threatening.”

With a smile, Lady Lacrima pet his head, eliciting a purr from deep in his chest.

Jillian let out a trembling exhale. “Alright. We won’t keep you any longer. We won’t tell a soul you were here. Do what you need to do and then get to a hospital. I beg you.”

Lady Lacrima gave a half smile. “We’ll do our best.” Then she took Grimalkin’s hand and led him out of the salon.

Once they were gone, Kelly fell into a chair. “That was the scariest thing I’ve ever done! Why did you let them stay?! Why didn’t you call the police!?”

Jillian also sat in a chair, swinging around to lean her arms on the back. “I was watching the stream on my break. I saw what they did. I saw…how they killed all those people. Part of me was worried that if we turned on them, they’d kill us too. But the other part of me was just worried about Marinette. I’ve been cutting her hair for…probably 15 years. I love her…and I just wanted to help.”

“Jill. You are too kind for your own good.”

“I try. Let’s clean up and head to the bar.”

“Sounds good to me!”

—

The rain continued, but it eased into a manageable drizzle. Now, people were starting to venture out onto the streets.

Lady Lacrima summoned a grappling hook with a steel cable, then tossed it up to the rooftops. “You ready, kitty cat?”

Grimalkin purred deviously, as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

Together, they launched into the air and landed on a familiar terrain of sloping roofs and terra cotta chimneys. Old friends greeted them. Pigeons and the wind.

Grimalkin sneezed.

“Gesundheit.”

He stood a little taller and looked her in the eye, asking her a question.

“You remember Alya, right?”

His lip twitched in a preempted snarl.  

“After all this time, her actions still hurt me. Her home isn’t far from here…let’s take care of her first, before the others.”

Grimalkin’s eyes were wide and his ears back as he whimpered lowly.

“No darling, we’re not going to hurt her…just scare her. Shake her up a bit.”

He seemed much more receptive to that plan as he gestured her on, in a ‘ladies first’ sort of way.

The path to the Cesaire household was muscle memory. It was one of their landmarks for patrol in Montparnasse. The corner, top-floor apartment on a few story building.

They landed on the balcony outside Alya’s room. The windows were shut and locked. Peering inside, the room was dark and void of people.

“I don’t see her. She may not be home, or she might be in the living room.”

Grimalkin leapt to the next balcony over, pointing at the window cracked open.

“This is the twin’s room. We must be quiet.”

She opened the window slowly, and crawled inside. Both of the little girls were in their beds, sleeping peacefully. Grimalkin stepped in too, slinking in like a cat.

Unfortunately, the girl’s room was not as tidy as they had hoped, and Grimalkin’s first step on the floor landed on a doll.

Let it go! Let it go!

Grimalkin growled at the sound.

Ella stirred. “Mmm?”

The akumas froze, hoping the girl would go back to sleep.

But instead, she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

Lady Lacrima waited, crouching close to the ground to try to remain unseen.

But as Ella blinked to alertness, she noticed Grimalkin’s eyes, which glowed red in the dark.

She inhaled to scream, and Lady Lacrima leapt, pressing a hand on the girl’s mouth. “Sshhh…” she hushed, quietly.

A scream tore out from the other side of the room, where Etta had awakened.

“Shit,” Lady Lacrima swore under her breath.

There was no time to hide. Frantic steps ran to the room and the door swung open to reveal Nora.

“Who the hell—!?”

Grimalkin leapt at her, slammed her against the wall, and pressed his claws to her throat with a deep jungle cat growl.

But Nora was a fighter, and she didn’t take to being slammed around kindly. She slammed her fist into Grimalkin’s stomach, making him recoil.

In the chaos, Etta and Ella dove under a bed to hide.

“That’s enough, Nora.” Lady Lacrima demanded, summoning a machete. “We have no quarrel with you.”

“Like hell you don’t! You were trying to hurt my little sister!” She barked, ready to punch again.

Otis and Marlena came running after the shout, and stood in the doorway, horrified.

“You misunderstand. We’re looking for Alya.”

Nora’s face twisted slightly in confusion, then realization. “Beetle? Mr. Whiskers?”

Marlena stepped into the room. “Marinette? Is that you? How did you…? They said you were…you…” She sobbed and ran and hugged her. “We’ve all been so worried about you!”

The machete fell to the ground and disappeared.

Grimalkin growled, but didn’t attack.

Marlena pulled back. “Alya’s safe. Don’t worry.”

“Where? I need to talk to her!”

“You need to get to a hospital.”

“Tell me where Alya is!” Lady Lacrima screamed, startling the woman.

Nora rested a hand on her mother’s shoulder and pulled her back. “She’s an akuma mom, she’s dangerous.”

“Tell me where Alya is right now or I’ll force it out of you!” She trembled. Her wrath and her innate moral compass warred with each other, the urge to hurt becoming stronger and stronger.

“She’s at the Agreste Manor, with your parents,” Nora answered. “Mr. Agreste has the whole place on lockdown. There’s no way to get in unless he lets you in. And I doubt he will if you’re like this.”

Like this.

She said it like Lady Lacrima was a monster. Inhuman.

Maybe she was. Marinette had lost her humanity in the darkness. Only pieces of it remained.

Grimalkin paced the room, unsure what to do. No one was attacking, and his lady wasn’t giving any commands. It was easier not to think for himself. Just protect his lady, and do as she asks. That was all he had to do.

Lady Lacrima let out a strangled cry.

She just wanted to fix her hurt!

“Ladybug?” A little voice spoke.

Etta and Ella poked out from under the bed, looking at her with teary eyes.

“I…am not Ladybug. Not anymore.”

“Why not?” They asked.

She didn’t answer, just looked at them with some degree of disgust.

“They didn’t watch the stream.” Marlena explained. “We couldn’t bare to let them. Would you really like little kids watching that?”

Lady Lacrima hugged herself.

Grimalkin crouched, coming closer to the little girls.

“And you’re Chat Noir!” Etta chirped, touching his cat ears.

He shook his head, backing away.

Marlena took a different approach to diffuse the situation. “You two must be hungry, why don’t you come in and eat?”

Eat.

Lady Lacrima swallowed. She was hungry. So hungry!

Grimalkin’s stomach grumbled loudly.

Nora rolled her eyes and grabbed Lady Lacrima’s wrist. “Come on. That wasn’t a suggestion, it was a demand.”

Lady Lacrima pulled at the hand tugging her, instincts telling her that a firm grasp on the wrist meant pain, but her brain and her stomach felt otherwise. Everyone being so nice to them was throwing a wrench in their revenge plot.

Grimalkin was being led by the hand and tail by the twins.

In the light of the apartment, the Cesaire’s got a better look at them.

“Is that blood?” Ella asked, pointing to the red stains on Grimalkin’s suit.

He nodded.

“Cool.”

Marlena gestured to the couch. “Take a seat here. I’ll get something warmed up for you.”

So they sat, hunched, tense, and uncomfortable, no matter how soft and plush the cushions felt. Ella and Etta sat on the couch on either side of them, making the akuma scoot closer together.

Otis sat at the other end of the couch, and turned on the TV.

“…over a several hour period of absence, it was concluded that Marinette Dupain-Cheng actually escaped Salo and her men, though Adrien Agreste was left behind.” Nadja was on the screen, with a banner under her name that read, ’Breaking news: Ladybug and Chat Noir Escape Torture.’ “In the hours of her disappearance, Agreste was flogged near death. Then finally, after ten hours, Dupain-Cheng was brought back and was flogged as well.

“Then, in a stunning twist, Hawkmoth was the first to locate the heroes and come to their rescue, akumatizing them to aid in their own escape. They seem to go by the name ‘Lady Lacrima’ and ‘Grimalkin’. The cameras caught this chilling scene from the final broadcast on ‘make ladybug suffer dot com’. Please be advised, the footage is graphic, and not suitable for young audiences.”

The scene jumped to a recording of the torture chamber. Salo’s body laid on the floor in shadow, so the gore wasn’t completely seen. But Lady Lacrima and Grimalkin were still dripping red as they looked down at her. Butterfly masks appeared over their faces.

“No…Paris has gotten lazy with Ladybug and Chat Noir around. And in our absence, things have only gotten worse.” She paused. “And we’ll get it. But we have business to attend too. Thank you for the akuma, I’ll be taking it now. Goodbye.”

She turned to face the camera, with eyes that held no mercy. “I am Lady Lacrima. This is Grimalkin. We seek Justice, and Justice will be what we get.”

Grimalkin pounced at the camera, and the feed ended.

Nadja came back on the screen. “This scene took place one hour ago, and we are continuing our coverage as the story updates. It is not yet known if Ladybug and Chat Noir are still akumatized, or whether or not they are even in Paris. No sightings have yet to be reported.

“Fifteen minutes ago, Minster of Interior, Arthur Vanderguard, tweeted the following: ‘The reign of Salo is over. Thank you to the brave men and women who have put their lives on the line in the investigation of this case. We will not rest until Marinette and Adrien are home.’”

Lady Lacrima tilted her head in confusion. “Who is this Arthur Vanderguard?”

Otis answered, “The Minister of Interior is the government official in charge of homeland security. He’s like the boss of the chief of police and the Secret service. He’s been catching a lot of flack for your case.”

Lady Lacrima squinted her eyes, the name was familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“Here we are!” Said Malena, placing a plate on the coffee table. “The soup is warming up, but I’ve got some fresh bread from your father, and these appetizers left over from a dinner at the hotel tonight. Honeycrisp apples with brie, wrapped in prosciutto, with a balsamic glaze.”

Lady Lacrima licked her lips. “…thank you.”

“Of course dear.”

“…has been criticized over the last month and a half since Ladybug and Chat Noir’s capture. Most notably for withdrawing troops from the investigation and allowing Edward Savauge to walk free.”

Lady Lacrima looked up at the screen and zeroed in on the story.

It was a previous recording, of Arthur Vandergaurd at a press conference. “Talking with M. Savauge, we have ruled out his involvement with Salo and the capture of Ladybug and Chat Noir. He has agreed to cooperate with us to find them, so that they can be rescued.”

“That press conference was held two weeks ago, and even now, Edward Savauge hasn’t even met with investigators. He most likely will not be holding up his end of the bargain.”

Lady Lacrima’s spoon clattered to the floor.

“During the course of the investigation, four investigators were killed under uncertain circumstances. The only connection between the murders was, of course, the link to the Ladybug and Chat Noir case. After the death of Detective Bertony, resources were pulled from the case, a move that contradicts normal procedure. In response, Mr. Vanderguard had this to say.”

The shot again changed to the Minister of Interior at the Press Conference. “My officers assume the risk of bodily harm and losing their life when they join the force. But they don’t expect to be in danger when they go home to be with their wives and children. Being assigned to the task force of looking for M. Agreste and Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, is a death sentence. We unfortunately have not made any headway in the investigation, despite all that has been broadcasted. We believe that Detective Bertony had a lead, but all information with him in his hotel room was reduced to ash on the balcony. Because of the nature of these murders, I will be launching an inside investigation among the police in Paris, conducted by an outside attorney. Mayor Bourgeois has approved the city’s plan for a comprehensive, independent, transparent investigation of the task force members' misconduct. As much as we owe to Ladybug and Chat Noir, we can’t afford to lose anyone else to these terrorists. This investigation will most likely further disrupt our work on the Ladybug and Chat Noir case.

“While this investigation goes on, I ask that everyone stop watching the stream on ‘make ladybug suffer dot com’. Giving Salo and her men attention is only fueling their torment of the victims. Ladybug and Chat Noir will be safer if we stop watching.

“To the families of M. Agreste and Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, I am truly sorry.”    

Nadja came back to the screen. “Though the apologies of the Minister seem to be well intentioned, critics have been asking the same question that goes unanswered. Where is the French Gendarmerie? Isn’t it made for situations like this?”

Lady Lacrima stood. “Thank you for the food. We must be going now.”

“Are you sure?”

“We have wasted enough time. Tell no one we were here…for your own safety.”

And just like that, she threw open the window, and they leapt out into the night.

Malena sighed as she collected their dishes, noticing how little they had eaten. “That was sudden. I wonder if it had anything to do with the news?”

“I think it had everything to do with the news. If I was the Minister of Interior, I’d pray to God right now.”

—

This chapter was born of me, a cosmetologist’s daughter, thinking “if I was isolated for a month in complete darkness, in my own filth, for a month, what is the first thing I would do when I got out?” and my immediate answer was, “wash my hair, eat, and sleep for 24 hours, in that order.”

Hey! So are you super eager for the next chapter?? Well good news for you! ShadeOps21 wrote an alternate ending to the rescue! He posed to me, “what would happen if GIGN did what they do and rescued Adrien and Marinette?” I said “I dunno what that is.” So he wrote it!

Basically special forces come in and save the day and it’s awesome and intense and everyone should read it. It’s called ‘Even Heroes have Heroes’ 

Art by @soyyuzuslife on Instagram!

[mothman-clarice-2]

The oc asks: 5, 12 & 18? Btw hope you’re doing well!!

First of all, oh my effing God THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS AHHHH! I always love talking about my OCs but I never get the chance to bUT NOW YOU GAVE ME THAT CHANCE AND I’M OVER THE MOON RN!!!! I have about 16 OCs but because I don’t wanna spam my followers, I tried to narrow it down to some of my favorites to talk about. I’ll include some doodles of them so you have faces to assign their names to. 

What are their favorite songs?

Spectra- Your Soul by Forrest. It's just so funky and catchy and he can't help but dance when it plays :)

Autumn- La Vie en Rose by Edith Piaf. Given Autumn is French but lives in America, she likes indulging in a bit of her own culture. This song was her favorite as a child and it's become a comforting and nostalgic song for her.

Lucas- The Only Thing They Fear is You by Mick Gordon (from the Doom Eternal soundtrack). Lucas is a heavy metal musician so obviously, his favorite song is gonna be metal. He loves listening to this especially when exercising because of the immense feeling of power it gives him.

Iris- Resonance by Home. Iris's favorite genre (second only to heavy metal considering she is bandmates with Lucas) is vaporwave so naturally, her favorite song would be the one that started it all.

Icarus- STFU by Pink Guy. Icarus is a comedian whose style was heavily influenced by the style of Pink Guy. He loves making fun of the overly edgy and obnoxiously offensive “humor” used by most teenagers trying to be cool and edgy. He loves the aggressiveness of this song and often listens to it to vent his frustration at people who really get on his nerves. 

Doré- Derniere Danse by Indila. Doré being born and raised in France loves indulging in her culture through French music. This song just has this enchanting beauty that makes her want to get up and dance.

Lorenzo- Nocturnes Op. 9 by Chopin. Lorenzo has a taste for the finer things in life and loves classical music with culture and history behind them. He also quite enjoys Gymnopedie No. 1 by Erik Satie as it was one of the first songs he learned to play on the piano.

What is something they carry with them always or never leave the house without?

Spectra- Spectra is a mega softie especially for his girlfriend Autumn and his brother Neon who disappeared years ago. (There's a whole plot behind Neon’s disappearance. I’ll summarize it at the bottom*) Spectra likes to keep the cork from the wine bottle he and Autumn opened on their first date. He also likes to keep a bandana that Neon had before he disappeared. Spectra found it while he was searching for Neon and kept it as a motivator to keep up the search.

Autumn- Autumn has had some seriously traumatic stuff happen to her. I won’t say it here because it could be triggering to someone so I’ll put it in the hashtags if you wanna know. She has gained a strong passion for protecting children as a result of her trauma to the point where it’s become her life’s mission. She keeps a picture of herself as a child before the traumatic event happened to her as a reminder to never let what happened to her happen to anyone else. 

Lucas- Despite Lucas’s intimidating appearance, he is a massive softie off-stage and is very sentimental. To make a long story short, he had a freak accident when he was young that left him severely disfigured and scarred. He felt really self-conscious about this until he discovered the heavy metal community. He quickly gained fame because his appearance fit the heavy metal aesthetic really well and he made good music. He used his fame to promote body positivity and has helped a lot of people with scars and disfigurements accept them and learn to love themselves. Lucas likes visiting children’s hospitals and has kept a few mementos from some of the kids he’s met. Most of these include drawings and cards kids made for him. 

Iris- Iris loves living the aesthetic lifestyle and tries to make everything she owns fit her aesthetics. Lucas being her boyfriend knows this and gave her a gift of a keychain with a bunch of vaporwave and retro futurism-themed pendants. She cherishes it and keeps it with her everywhere she goes. 

Icarus- Icarus is not really one for being sentimental but he secretly keeps a bottle cap his dad gave him. He has a strong bond with his family (though he never shows it to other people) so he treasures that bottle cap as a piece of his family. 

Doré- Doré is a transgender woman and likes keeping pride memorabilia on her as she goes about her daily life. Her husband Lorenzo (although he is cis and straight) is incredibly supportive of her and likes giving her pride related gifts, one of which is a little heart-shaped crystal pendant of the trans flag with a pure gold rim. She keeps it as a bit of trans pride and a symbol of her and Lorenzo’s love. 

Lorenzo- Lorenzo is incredibly romantic and deeply in love with Doré so naturally, he would like to keep a (kinda literal) piece of her with him. Doré is a golden orb weaver spider that gets its name from its golden-colored silk. She is a luxury fashion designer and she uses her silk in many of her products (which is why they’re considered luxury). She made a little handkerchief for Lorenzo made purely out of her own silk that he cherishes as if it were his firstborn child. 

Do they love getting hugs or giving hugs?

Spectra- Spectra is a giver of cuddles through and through

Autumn- Autumn doesn’t like touching people but she likes getting hugs from Spectra

Lucas- He likes to give and receive.

Iris- She likes giving

Icarus- He’s not a hugger

Doré- She likes getting hugs, primarily from Lorenzo

Lorenzo- He’s a giver

*About Neon’s disappearance: To make a long story short, Neon and Spectra are the sons of the two main Gods in this universe and Neon was fascinated by Earth so he traveled to it and became mortal. He stayed too long, forgot he was a divine being, joined a gang, betrayed that gang, and is now constantly on the run from the authorities and the gang he betrayed. Spectra has dedicated himself to find Neon and bring him back home.

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

Ineffable Sadness

Warnings- Angst, swearing, mentions of depression

Word Count- 744 

You sat at the edge of your piano bench. Hands floating just above the keys. ghosting notes and chords, the real sound a haunting hallucination. Your mind wandered to David as your hands absentmindedly began to play ‘Gymnopedie No.1″ 

‘David, I feel like you’re pulling away. You have to let me in if I’m to help you.’ 

‘I don’t need your help Y/N!”

He took a large huff of breath and moved his fingers through his hair. His jaw clenched like he was trying to hold back something that he wanted to say and you braced yourself for the blow to come. 

‘You know, maybe I’d be better if you weren't always telling me I’m not okay. Stop trying to fix me all the fucking time.’

He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and stormed out onto the flat balcony, making a point to slam the door behind him.

You sank onto the couch, feeling tears hit your cheeks and hands as you silently cried. You heard the door open and suddenly David was crouched in front of you. His face was a mixture of regret and resoluteness, you feared what would come next. He just placed his hand on your thigh, giving you a sad grimace before standing up and walking into your shared room. 

You quickly let your cheeks dry, deciding that you needed to get away for a little while. David’s words had cut deep and you couldn’t figure out if they were genuine for from a place of anger. 

You grabbed your purse and left the flat, not knowing where you were going, just knowing your feet knew the way. You ended up back in front of your flat. You hadn’t been in weeks, you and David were inseparable, and he always insisted you stay with him. 

You felt tears falling onto your keys at the memory of the fight, and you let out a loud sob. As you came out of your trance, you checked your phone and saw a text from David. 

‘You’re right. This security detail is taking a lot out of me. That’s no excuse, I know. I’m so sorry I’ve been taking it out on you love. Please come home so we can talk.

The text arrived almost an hour ago, but you had been to caught up to notice. You decided to ignore it and instead, you went back to your piano, choosing Motzart’s Requiem to release your emotions. 

You had just started when a feeble knock interrupted your thoughts. You could tell it was David before you heard him softly say your name from the other side. 

“Please.... talk... know... Sorry.” You just heard bits of his words, but you knew it was an apology. 

Despite everything screaming at you to ignore him, you stood up from your bench and walked over to your front door. When you opened it you saw David leaning against the frame, his bloodshot eyes staring directly into yours. 

“Can I come in?” He cleared his raspy throat and stood up straight, looking hopeful. 

You stood aside, letting him walk into your flat. 

You both sat at the couch, neither speaking but both of you were lost in thought. You wondered if this was a bad idea, maybe you two should have had a day to calm down. 

“I am so sorry. God that sounds so weak compared to what I want to say. You have been my only grace for months. Every day I come home and I want to curl up into a ball. And you- you are the only one that helps me. And to think that I’ve only been hurting you... It kills me. I’m not okay, despite what I keep telling myself and you. I keep getting deeper and deeper into this hole. It almost feels too late. I haven’t felt like this since I lost- since I lost the Secretary. I’m getting help, I have to. I love you so much. Please forgive me.”

You sat there, watching him fall apart, his accent growing thicker the more he cried. He let out a sob and you shifted to him, wrapping him into your chest. 

“It’s alright darling. I love you too. I’m so glad you’re recognizing this and dealing with it. We’ll get better. Together, like we always do.”

“Thank you. Thank you.” You heard him whisper into your thighs. 

You began to cry into his shoulder, while he cried into your lap, and you sat there. Relishing in each other’s embrace, enjoying the first real moments you have had together in months. 

[orlamccools]

answer 21 questions and tag 21 mutuals you'd like to get to know better!!!!

i was tagged by the lovely @catfemme (ily luna and thanks for tagging me!!!!!)

nicknames: mads, chuck and magoo are all nicknames my family uses for me!

zodiac sign: gemini♊!!!

height: 5'5"

hogwarts house: slytherin 🐍

last thing i googled: everdines napervjlle hours

favorite musicians: rn bleachers and peter gundry are my top two faves, even tho they both do completely opposite styles of music (bleachers is like indie pop and gundry is horror soundtrack like stuff)

song stuck in your head: heart killer by dr dog

following: 975

followers: 926

do you get asks: yes!!! its not super consistent and im not the best at answering them but i do get them!!!

amount of sleep: rn 7 hours but im prolly gonna get to sleep early so i can get like 9

lucky number: i have two, 57 and 23

what're you wearing: i just got done from the bookstore so a blue blazer w tan elbow patches and dress pants

dream job: immigration lawyer if we're being realistic, documentary maker if we arent

dream trip: sometimes i go on research spirals abt different countries and continents and i think the most recent one was on Namibia?? So i gotta say Namibia, or Romania bc I just finished The Historian

favorite instrument: the saxophone 🎷🎷

languages: english, a bit of french, and I'm learning spanish next year!!

favorite songs: too many to name, but one i havent mentioned yet is Gymnopedie No. 1 by Eric Satie

random fact: i went to a farmers market this morning and it was a great time

aesthetic: the taste of strawberry fanta, lying on your bed at 3 am and imagining whats to come, and tired hands, tired eyes, but a racing mind

mutuals im tagging: @twinsfawn, @cryptidjeepers, @memecatwings, @nerdy-or-geeky, @flourcream, @herotterness, @lucillesatisfymyheart, @ghostproofing, @cishetriku, @imbuent, @exitthemoon, @mynameisclairelem, @nemuy, @amemoia, @yourataribaby, @juulius-ceasar, @pegsephone, @antifa-hulk, @once-upon-a-thrilll, @saoirse-bronan, and finally @eviesoneill

no pressure for anyone tho and thanks again luna for the tag!!

[parttwoactuallywrites]

If you're still taking requests for bad things happen bingo, how about Virgil x Mel + natural disaster? - theportalwedeserve

@theportalwedeserve 

ahslkdjfhlHLKJASHDLFKJH I was considering reposting that bingo card so people might consider requesting, but this came at a really good time!! Thanks a million for asking!!!!

Some quick notes before I start - This is my first shot at writing both Virgil AND Mel, and honestly? I have no idea how I did, so feedback from those who actually have written these guys/know more about them then I do/ etc. is always appreciated! Sorry if it’s not quite up to snuff! Secondary sorry that this took so long, I wrote this during my study-breaks for my midterms (which start this Thursday and I’m ahsdkfjhsjf). This was also originally gonna be WAY shorter but I’m a mess lmao. 

This fic is best enjoyed listening to Gymnopedie No. 1 and Cherche La Rose on loop. Sorry this wasn’t angstier, I wanted to write some comfy stuff ‘cause it’s cold out. 

The two of them were always regarded as an oddball couple, woodsy folk who lived a mile or so out of town in a little log-cabin they’d built themselves with the extra hands of whoever wanted to help - which was, evidently, the entirety of the little community of Laurel River.

It made sense, at least to Virgil. Though he couldn’t help but think of himself as the most “other” person there - Hah, I’m calling myself a person, now. - he seemed to fit right in. Hard workers with practical genius and warmth he’d never seen down in the salt mines. He supposed you had to be a certain kind of person to work at Aperture, and those types didn’t have a predisposition to warmth, now did they?

Speaking of, the warmth was only really metaphorical. The weather hadn’t gotten above freezing in weeks, the days got shorter and shorter, and with no real work that could get done with the ground and the river frozen, the town and its inhabitants got rather sleepy.

A cold, cold wind blew over a mostly-empty town square as Virgil stepped into the little general store for the groceries.

“Hey, Lil,” Virgil said, closing the door behind him as softly as he could.

“Hello to you too, Virgil! How’s the weather out there?” Lily asked, without turning around. She was an older woman, soft spoken and gentle. She made lovely bouquets in the summer and spring, with a garden to kill or die for.

“Bad,” He said, pulling his neatly folded list out of his pocket, “Cold, windy, cloudy.”

“Oh dear,” She said, still re-organizing the things behind the counter, “Well that sounds about right. There’s supposed to be a storm coming, a big blizzard. First of the season.”

Blizzard.

Virgil knew what those were, knew that they were big screw-off storms with strong wind and snow that made it so you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. He knew that blizzards took down trees and power lines and covered up solar panels in a foot-and-a-half of snow. Sounded like a recipe for losing power, or worse, their house getting destroyed.

He frowned, one by one grabbing the things off the shelves and putting them into a canvas bag he’d gotten when he first came into town. Flour, sugar, milk, eggs, brussels sprouts, carrots, leek, butternut squash, ‘any herbs you can get your hands on’…

He put the worry out of his mind. The clearing the cabin sat in was far enough away that a few trees coming down wouldn’t be a terrible issue. The house kept the heat well and he’d be willing to trudge a ways into the woods for more firewood if they lost power and ran out. They could camp out in the living room and snuggle to stay warm, or maybe…

Well, that assumed either of them would be willing to get their clothes off. Unlikely, given the predicted circumstances, but a nice thought nonetheless.

Virgil set his things down on the front counter one by one, lost in his unlikely-but-still-nice-thoughts about the days to come, just the two of them, snowed in together.

“Name the kid after me,” Lily said with a pleasant smile.

“Wha- Good lord, Lil!”

She laughed, took the money from the counter and handed him back a few bucks in change. “Seriously, you kids be safe, and don’t you hesitate to come to town if something happens.”

“We’ll be sure of it. Thanks, Lily.” He slowly loaded all his things into his bag.

“Any time, Virgil. Have a nice evening, honey.”

He pushed the door open, waving as he walked out. “You too!”

And then once more he was out in the cold. A gust of wind blew in his face, stinging his eyes and making them water. That might be the only thing he missed about being a core, his fantastic inability to feel most external stimuli, and with that, his inability to feel the cold stiffening his fingers, making him regret not wearing his gloves.

It was gonna be a long trudge home.

Virgil came home a few minutes out from frostbite as the sun was starting to set. He huffed as he gently set down the bag on the floor by the front door, kicked off his shoes carelessly, and wondered how long it’d take before his ears stopped burning and feeling returned to his face.

The smell of bread wafted through their small home, coupled by hot cocoa floating in beside it.

“Making something, Mel?”

She hummed. “You were taking a mighty long time out there,” She said, moving through the kitchen slowly, leisurely. “Thought it might be nice to come home to something hot to drink.”

“You’re my savior, you know that, right?”

Mel giggled. “You’ve said so on more than one occasion.” She set two cups down on their modest kitchen table, filling them with the cocoa. “What’s the news from in town?”

“We’ve got a blizzard coming in,” He said, walking towards her “That’ll be your first snow in over a hundred years!”

“It’ll be your first snow ever.” She handed him a cup of cocoa and leaned back against the kitchen counter to drink the other herself.

He took it in both hands, taking a long sip, letting the sweet drink warm him. “Mmm… This is good.”

“Thank you.”

“But personality cores are based on, well… Personalities. They were all people, once, including me,” Virgil said, “Don’t remember any of it, but I bet you I saw snow back then.”

“I still don’t get how you’re supposed to pour a person into a box, and then have that box… Do things,” She said, flatly.

“Mel, we own a computer.”

“Yeah, and I like it, but that doesn’t mean I understand it. Last I checked, TV’s were the size of our oven and only played blurry and in black and white. It’s just after the apocalypse, and we got color and crystal-clear pictures.”

Virgil shrugged. “Fair point.”

The storm came early that morning, before first light of dawn and well before either of them woke. Virgil vaguely remembered sleepily arguing for Mel to stay in bed, to sleep another hour or two with him, before being given a pillow to hug instead as she went about her morning without him. She only actually woke him up some time later, gently shaking him awake to a dark bedroom.

“Power’s out, Virgil,” Mel said, “Virgil, wake the hell up.”

“Huh?”

“The power’s-” Mel was cut off by a clap of thunder that rattled through the small house, startling Virgil fully awake.

“What the fuck-” Virgil shot up in bed, grabbing Mel’s hands almost instinctively for support.

“Looks like it’s a thundersnow,” Mel said thoughtfully.

“A what?”

Another clap of thunder, accompanied by a flash of lightning. Virgil yelped in surprise, this time, earning him a comforting hand on his shoulder from Mel. “You alright?”

“Fine!” He squeaked, “Just fine.”

“Well, the power’s out,” She said, “So if we’re gonna make breakfast, it’ll have to be over the fireplace.”

“Do you need a hand with that?” He kicked his legs over the edge of bed, planting his feet on the ground and stretching up.

“I can get the fire set up and all that-” Mel cringed as his back cracked.

“Sorry.”

“Not a problem, not a problem,” She said, dismissively. “Could you make that stew of yours, though?”

Oh. The stew. He’d made it over the fireplace, once or twice before, with decent success. Not that it was particularly difficult to make, more or less a “sear some stuff and then leave it alone for three hours” type of situation.

He wanted to say no, anyways. Last time he did it, he burned his wrist on the pot and he still had a little scar from it. It was dangerous and difficult to cook over the fireplace, but Mel looked so hopeful and she loved that stew…

“Yeah, alright,” He said, “I can do that.”

Mel sweeped him up into a hug, pressing kisses to his face indiscriminately. “You’re the best,” She said, after landing one right on his eyelid, “Easily the best.”

“That’s high praise coming from my savior.”

When he actually got a chance to look outside, it was a little astonishing. He could hear the wind whistling almost constantly, or the odd clap of thunder in the distance, but he had no idea just how nasty it was, out there.

The world was covered in a haze of white, he couldn’t see the trees of the backwoods or the river that ran through the area they designated as their backyard. It was almost spooky, like the house itself had been isolated from the rest of the world.

He turned his attention back to the cutting board, back to cutting the vegetables they had on hand. Mel was curled up on the couch in their modest living room, warm and cozy by the fire she’d just started, reading something by the soft light of the window.

Yeah, burning his arm again would be worth it, if it came to that. Definitely. Mel worked too hard, too long, too sustained almost constantly. She had no ‘off’ switch, though, he supposed, that is what got them out of Aperture and into town in the first place.

Virgil dropped the vegetables into the almost cauldron-like cooking pot, letting them sizzle satisfyingly. The browned meat sat in a little bowl next to the pot, along with all the stock anyone could ever need. He absentmindedly stirred things around, more aware of Mel’s contented humming than he was his own hands.

Luckily, he didn’t burn himself, this time.

As if on auto-pilot, he put everything left in the pot, one by one, with the exception of the random assortment of root vegetables he’d throw in towards the end. He poured in the stock, covered the pot, and turned to Mel, who opened her blanket and patted the spot next to her.

“Kept your seat warm for you.” She said, grinning.

“Think I could stand to take a nap?”

“I’ll wake you up in two hours,” She said, “Stew smells great, by the way.”

“Thanks, love,” Virgil said, grabbing an extra blanket and curling himself up next to her, falling asleep in her lap.

Virgil woke up to the smell of stew and the sound of bowls being shifted around in the kitchen.

“Mel?” He called to nowhere in particular. Did I wake up in time to add the parsnip?

“You didn’t wake up, I handled the rest of it,” She said, almost reading his mind, “Stew’s done, if you’re hungry.” She handed him a bowl, as he sat up, complete with a piece of toast with butter. She dug in without waiting, putting a spoonful in her mouth and sighing with pleasure. “Christ, this is good…”

He looked down into his bowl, contemplative.

The world was scary, wasn’t it? Terrifying. There was a blizzard out there that could’ve probably killed him, back when he was a core, that would’ve definitely killed him if he was out there, now.

But he wasn’t.

He was warm and safe, in his own home, just him and Mel. Larger than that, they came off the heels of a war, and they were better for it. Would Laurel River have helped them build their home, been so kind as to open their doors for them before the war?

He didn’t think so. From what Mel said about the world, back then, they’d have had white picket fences up and would’ve judged ‘em both for how they dressed and acted, when things were ‘improper’ - whatever that meant. 

He couldn’t help but thank the maker that he was alive, really alive, then. In his home, with the love of his life, safe and warm and eating stew.

He ripped off a small piece of bread and dunked it into the stew, taking his first bite before it went cold. 

She was right, it was pretty good.