#but i couldn't not make this after listening to the song

[yandere-sins]

Just saw your greek god works and they're top notch! Could you do something with yan Apollo? There's just soooo much stuff to work with with him... Thanks!

Thank you for requesting!! I love writing about them ^-^

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Very little could speak more about your skills than a personal invite to present them at Olympus.

The morning Apollo arrived in his golden chariot was an exceptionally bright one. Naturally, because his body emanated the rays of sun that broke through your window, his radiant smile widening on his youthful face the second you stepped out of your hut. Your mother was crying—tears of joy as you realized when she hugged you tightly, telling you how proud she was. Even your father seemed choked up when he told you you were special.

So, as you finally stood before the handsome stranger, the god whose shrine you visited regularly, you were utterly speechless, overcome with emotions you couldn't place. You could only listen as he spoke to you, his voice silken like the soft breeze on a summer's day yet as cheerful as the anticipation for an exciting festival.

"I want you to play," he made his intentions known, his hand falling to the side of your head, letting a lock of hair glide through the gaps in his fingers. His touch was warm and gentle, beyond anything you expected an immortal to feel like. "For us, for me."

"It would be an honor," you honestly muttered back after your mother urged you with a slight push, reminding you not to be rude to the god who was blessing you with such good fortune. Most people were honored in war, because of their devotion to their deity, in the pursuit of knowledge, or in death. To be chosen solely for your lyre play was rare, and you felt overwhelmed with gratitude, tears filling your eyes.

Apollo smiled, promising to come back in a mere three days time. Not enough to memorize all the songs you wanted to play, but while your parents packed you a small bag with the essentials and exempted you from your duties on their farm while making sure you were fed and clean, you kept practicing your craft until your fingers were raw and bloody. Apollo had assured you that there was no perfection in music. Still, you wouldn't have been able to endure the shame of hitting the wrong note to a song everyone knew—even the gods. And so you practiced, day and night, until finally, it was time to leave.

That morning was colder yet auspicious. So many burdens weighed on your shoulders—your performance, bringing honor to your family and yourself, the payment you heard your parents whisper about. There had always been food on the table for your big family, but you noticed their excitement when they talked about the boon that the gods would give you for performing well. You gulped nervously as you fiddled with the newly strung lyre in your hand when, with loud neighs and the warmth of a sunny day washing over you, Apollo arrived. When he smiled at you, you couldn't help but grin back, excited for this day, his brilliant mood instantly captivating yours.

You bid your parents farewell as they wished you a good performance and safe travels. They waved after you as the heavenly chariot took off into the morning sky, announcing another beautiful day. You got to stand close to the sun god as he performed his duty, chatting carefreely about how excited he was to hear you play and how everyone was expecting you eagerly. It made you nervous, but being close to him, his arm around you to keep you secured, Apollo's presence made your worries simply melt away. You could have never seen yourself as his equal, but he didn't make you feel any less than a friend.

He took his time cruising you through the sky, showed you the magnificent temples of the gods, let you taste the richest grapes the land had to offer, and took you to places that most humans wouldn't see in the span of multiple lifetimes. Always with a hand outstretched to help you step down from or into his chariot, and watchful eyes looking out for you. You learned a lot that day, the excursion long but magical, especially with a god by your side as your guide. To him, it must have been boring stuff that he saw every day, but to you, it became the most incredible day of your life very quickly.

Until you were brought before the entrance to the Olymp, that is.

Chariot parked, you could still feel Apollo standing behind you, protectively but encouragingly. His frame towered massively next to you, cutting you off from the human world behind his radiant form. The sun was setting, leaving you with a chill. But perhaps you were only imagining it, your performance anxiety rising. His warm hand gently pressed into the small of your back, urging you with determination to step ahead and face the rest of the pantheon of gods that had collected, to play them the songs you had come for.

With weak knees, you took one step in front of the other, Apollo always by your side. He ensured you wouldn't falter as all eyes in the grand hall seemed to turn towards you the moment you stepped through the entrance. There were all kinds of eyes—wise and godly and mythical. But you were more surprised by the human ones, tired ones, downright exhausted ones that raised to watch you. Their presence felt out of place, but then again, so did yours. However, there was something deeply unsettling in the dullness of their eyes, the sloppy movements as they walked around the hall, seemingly without vigor, their stares the only reaction to your arrival contrasting starkly with the boisterous and booming voices of the immortals greeting you.

"Apollo, is this your new charge?" a faun asked, curiously eyeing you and your lyre. "Your new songbird, eh?"

Apollo laughed, waving off the comments from all sides as he moved you forward, guiding you through gods and servants alike, their hands reaching out, touching you, admiring you. You couldn't help but startle at the different sensations of these touches—cold, sharp, unnatural. It made you cling to Apollo more, his presence way more comforting, and although he had grown in size—appearing mighty godly now—he made sure that his arm stayed around you like a shield.

One dull-eyed human after another tried to serve you food and drinks that you declined respectfully. It was hard enough to keep up with the pressure, and you didn't have the stomach for any kind of intake—at least not until you were done. And with Apollo's urging, you didn't stick around to talk to them or even watch them, although you felt their eyes drill into your back.

You were led to the seats at the very top of the grand hall, guided to the ones at the side which were vividly red with golden threads. Sitting down on them was like sinking into a cloud as Apollo helped you up, lowering you down gently. The surrounding lounges and pillows on the floor were quickly filled with eager eyes looking up at you, waiting for your play just like your patron god had promised them. You couldn't help but look around, cross eyes with some of the nymphs and minor goddesses and gods that you probably had heard from but were never educated on properly.

But the gathered gods were easily recognizable by their trademarks—Dionysus, Athena, Aphrodite, and Artemis, just to name a few of them—and you were surprised to see them keeping one or more humans by their sides, looking very different from the ones you had seen before. These ones were clothed and prepared with great care, love, and devotion to their god. Their cheeks were plump, and they smiled when their patron spoke to them, albeit hesitantly. However, the unsettling feeling you got from the dull-eyed ones before didn't vanish as you watched these devoted humans. Something about their posture and expressions didn't match the festivities. They looked uncomfortable, and some of them even sad.

"It is time," Apollo spoke softly beside you, his voice gentle but intent. This was his party, and you were the special performance; of course, he didn't want you to be distracted and unable to play. His touch tore you out of your observations. It drew your attention back to him, strong fingers wrapping around your shoulders, squeezing you encouragely, but it was almost a little hurtful. You nodded, thankful he didn't make you look incompetent in front of everyone, and his grip softened in satisfaction, although it didn't disappear. Still, you couldn't help the anxiety from rising, your mouth dry, and your fingers jittery. Even when you tried to calm yourself, you couldn't entirely focus, panic rising inside you.

Now that you had come so far, you couldn't fail.

A hearty and a beautiful laugh rang out from your side, Dionysus and Aphrodite exchanging knowing looks before the goddess handed one of her humans a golden chalice and encouraged them to get up. "Go," she chimed, and her stunningly beautiful charge sauntered their way over to you, handing you the chalice. They were undeniably beautiful, even when clothed in the simplest garments. But their gaze was unblinking as they handed over the cup. "Don't," they hissed sharply in a whisper, their eyes flitting to Apollo for just a second, and you felt his fingers dig into your skin before the human left you again, trotting quickly and without a detour back to Aphrodite's side. The goddess patted their head before returning her attention to you, gesturing for you to drink. "To your nerves, you ray of sunshine," Dionysus laughed merrily, and everyone raised their chalices in a toast.

You nervously crossed eyes with the human that brought you the drink, seeing their expression hardening in a deep frown unbecoming of their beauty. Then you looked to Apollo, his own cup raised to his lips, but he had yet to drink from it. He observed you from the corners of his eyes, smiling when he noticed you looking back. "It's just a little bit of wine," he reassured you, assuming you were unsure if it was okay to drink.

You nodded, feeling pressured not to refuse the gods' hospitality, and raised the chalice to your mouth to take a tentative sip. It wasn't more than two gulps before you set it down, letting it be taken away by a nymph that sat at your feet. Immediately, the tension became lighter, your worries melting away, especially when Apollo drew you closer to his body, his warmth seeping into you. He steadied you for your play, letting you lean on him as much as you needed. With all the pressure and anxiety you had felt, you had almost forgotten that playing the lyre was fun. That you enjoyed doing it, and practiced hard enough to even perform before the gods. With the first chord echoing through the hall, all the tension finally left your body.

It was glorious.

Gods and humans alike sang along to the well-known songs you had picked; they listened when you added nuances to your play, and some of them got cozy with each other, cuddling and kissing as you presented them with the romantic notes everyone adored. By the time your hands were tired, fingers roughed up by the strings, and your concentration fading, everyone was in awe and satisfied with your performance, gods clapping their hands and cheering at you as you finished.

However, you immediately looked up at Apollo, greeted by his radiant smile beaming down at you. His hand raised to pat your head as he announced you as the magnificent talent of the night. The relief mixing with pride swelled in your chest, heating your cheeks as you took some humble bows, smothered in the cheers. Another cup was handed to you, and after performing for so long, you were glad to wet your throat.

Most of the night was spent talking to eager fans of music, letting them play your lyre, and hearing their own songs. Drinks would be passed to you, food almost shoved into your mouth by the merry folks, and you laughed along with them over their silliness. You felt lighter than ever before, so caught up in the moment and with the alcohol only adding towards the sense of mirth. The mystics were as playful and cheery as they had always been described, but you knew it would only be for that night, so you enjoyed their company.

Apollo wouldn't leave your side even as gods approached him, congratulating him for finding such a treasure amongst the humans and asking if he'd let them "take" you for their celebrations sometimes. You didn't get to hear his answers as your attention was drawn away by humans joining in with the conversations, telling you about their boons and how they were accepted into Olympus. They were all extraordinary people, and you felt quite small next to them. But they didn't make you feel unwelcome in their midst, and you were glad to hear about their experiences. Nymphs would braid everyone's hair, decorating them with flowers, fauns were playing around, everything seemed like the perfect idylle that all humans imagined the lives of gods to be.

"You shouldn't agree if they ask you to stay," the human beside you suddenly whispered. She was a cute, dainty woman, a follower of Artemis clothed in silver and pelts. Immediately, her hair was yanked back as one of the nymphs hissed at her. You caught the words 'insolent' and 'behave', but others crowded around you so fast, talking over the two and asking you questions as that woman was taken away, so you were forced to shift your attention.

It wasn't until you felt a warm hand graze over your back that you looked up at Apollo again, his gaze very gentle. He seemed satisfied with how the evening went. He might have even held some affection for you after the performance, which put him in good graces with everyone. Relief flooded your senses, and you bit back a yawn as exhaustion suddenly crashed into you, taking hold in your body.

"Are you tired?" he asked, and suddenly, you couldn't hold back the signs in front of him. You had kept it together so well, but you figured that playing for hours, talking for even longer, and drinking the sweet, fruity wine was coming back to haunt you now. Leaning into his comforting touch, you gave him a small nod and he understood, standing up and helping you get to your feet.

There were lots of disappointed aws and ohs at the announcement of your departure, nymphs and fauns seeing you off and waving after you as Apollo brought you back to his chariot, your legs even weaker now than when you entered the Olymp full of anxiety. No human came to see you off, but you barely registered that in your tired mind. Instead, you put on a smile and waved back at everyone after getting on the chariot.

"Did you have fun?" Apollo asked as he urged his horses to go. The night had long set, yet you two moved across the sky like a shooting star in the darkness.

"A lot," you confirmed. "This was an amazing experience; I am very grateful to you for this opportunity! Although it makes me sad that it is already over."

You could hear your own words slurred by the intoxication and exhaustion, yet you managed to form a tired smile for him. Apollo stepped closer, helping you stay upright as he urged his horses forward before returning your smile.

"It doesn't have to end," he hummed cheerfully, not a hint of tiredness in his demeanor. "You could play for us every night. Party with everyone, be merry. Would you like that?"

You chuckled at his suggestion but shook your head as you looked out into the night sky, stars passing you by at a speed that made them look like the shooting stars.

"It was a lot of fun, but I got to go home. My parents need my help on the farm, even if I love playing the lyre."

Apollo hummed thoughtfully, and you felt closer and closer to sleep as his warmth enveloped you. You only realized you had dozed off when you felt the soft thud of the chariot landing beneath your feet, followed by two hands guiding you off it. Your eyes fluttered open, but you were too tired to really do much but let yourself be picked up, nuzzling your face into Apollo's comforting warmth.

His steps were less gentle than his touches, his hold on you bouncy as if he was in a rush. The sounds around you turned from the peaceful night wind passing you by into complete silence, only his steps echoing as they hit marble floors. A rush of coldness threatened to envelop you, but Apollo pulled you closer to him, not letting the cold get near. You felt something reach out for you again, like the gods had, curious and uncaring of your privacy. It didn't feel familiar, your senses slowly reawakening, but something inside you seemed to want to keep you dormant for a while longer.

However, the feeling was interrupted when you were laid down into the softest cushions, with Apollo's warmth brushing over your head as you felt his weight dip the mattress you were on top of. Even with your drowsy mind, you knew you weren't in your own bed, concern rising. "Where are we?" you sighed, stretching your neck to receive more of his incredibly comforting warmth while a shiver ran down your spine. Why was it so unusually cold in this place, or had you just gotten too used to having Apollo's warmth around you that you only realized the shift in temperature now?

"Home," he answered your question, and you pried your eyes open, looking at the blurry, radiant form of the god sitting by your bedside. Then, slowly, every movement paired with so much discomfort, you let your head fall to the side, looking around at the vast darkness surrounding you. Not even Apollo's light could banish the pitch-black shadows all around you, and no sound penetrated the room.

" 's not my home..." you mumbled, brows furrowing, your deduction taking an awful lot of time. This place felt weird compared to all the wonderful ones you had visited. If this was his home, you had imagined it to be bright and beautiful, a golden palace of light and warmth. But instead, you feared for your little toes as the shadows seemed to reach out, wanting some of your warmth instead of giving it to you.

"It is now," he reassured you, sounding unusually stern even though his hand caressed you gently, brushing away your hair and cupping your cheek to turn your head towards him again.

"But my parents..."

"They knew the price they'd pay in this trade."

Leaning down, Apollo connected his forehead with yours, the depth of his eyes impalpable, especially in your muddled brain. You couldn't read him well, but he seemed... satisfied? He didn't seem to be ridden by confusion or worry like you were; rather, he was confident and calm. Something stirred in you, a sense of anxiety, but it was beaten down by a sweet-tasting tiredness immediately.

"Welcome home," he muttered, kissing your temples. "Catch some sleep so you can fulfill your duties to me tomorrow with the same brilliance as you did today. I'll be right here, making sure you are well-rested for your next performance, Sunshine."

"Duties?" you mumbled, already getting lulled back to sleep with his warmth now enveloping you like a blanket. You didn't hear his answer, even when you saw his lips move. Perhaps Apollo sang to you rather than spoke about what you wanted to know, but you wouldn't know.

You were plunged into the darkness of uncertainty, but even when you opened your eyes again, all that awaited you were more shadows that seemed to reach out for you. A sense of panic and unease spread throughout you, the uncertainty turning you into more of a wreck than you already felt after waking up with a splitting headache and no idea where you were.

It was no wonder that you immediately ran to Apollo when his light lit up the room. He gently wiped the tears from your face and assured you everything would be alright before pushing your lyre into your hands. You didn't even remember bringing it back from the Olymp, but he didn't seem to mind your carelessness.

"Now, play," he asked, and you gulped. You were barely awake, your fingers still hurt, and you were in an unfamiliar place that gave you the creeps.

"Here?" you asked, unsure as you looked around the depressing, dark room.

"Exactly here. Brighten up our home for me, will you? It's been too long since someone made it bearable to stay here. You won't disappoint me, right?"

"How... how did they do it? Will my playing be enough?"

"We'll see," Apollo said, gripping your arms tensely, his eyes glazing over with impatience.

"And if not?" you asked anxiously, unsure if a song could disperse the discomfort that seemed to reign in this home.

This time, Apollo hesitated, mouth opening briefly before his lips turned into a gentle smile. "Don't disappoint me, Sunshine. I can't stand this darkness and silence in my home anymore, and your parents assured me of how much life you could bring to any place. Seeing you perform before the gods, I immediately knew you could do it. You'll make this place a home again, one for us to live happily for the rest of our time. And if not..."

Letting go of your arms, Apollo stood up, turning around and heading for the door at the far side of the room. You wanted to follow him as the shadows lapped at you, but you felt glued to the floor, frozen in fear. With Apollo opening the door, you watched as the clouds passed by right outside, a complete drop into nothingness spreading out in front of this house, the chariot parked on seemingly no ground just outside of reach.

"If not, you'll learn what happened to the person before you that disappointed me," Apollo explained, not even pointing outside and towards the ground to make his crypticness make sense. "Play," he demanded. "Turn this place back into a home. Our home, Sunshine."

And with dread etched into your face, you strung the chords.

[elliesspacewalker]

i looovvee the song daddy issues by the neighborhood (definitely does not say anything abt me) do you think you could make headcannons inspired by the song?

where reader has never been taken care of but ellie come along and like heals her ig? 😏

Hell yeah

warnings: 18+, these are going to get dark, mentions of childhood trauma, abusive parents, panic attacks, mentions of murder, trans! Ellie.

- Ellie met you in her shared dorm with you and Dina, after you had a panic attack crying on the ground after you accidentally broke Dina's favourite cup.

"hey, hey, are you okay?" Ellie kneels down next to you, and caresses your hair gently as you sob and rant on about how you broke Dina's favourite cup, "it's okay- I promise, she doesn't care"

"are you sure?" sobs continue to leave your mouth as Ellie sits next to you leaning against the wall "I promise"

- Ellie who asked you about what you were thinking about, while you were both studying together.

"what are you thinking about, hon?" she questions, you shrug, trying to brush it off, "if I told you what I was thinking about you'd think I was insane" Ellie laughs "you couldn't say a single thing to me that would make me think you're insane"

"I killed someone" you joke and a choked out "what" leaves Ellie's lips "I'm fucking joking!" you say as soon as you realise she didn't think you were joking.

"I think I like you" and just like that, you and Ellie began dating—not only this, but this is when all your past trauma started taking effect on your relationship.

- Ellie who comforted you whenever you thought you did something wrong. she knew there was something deeper that you weren't telling her but never pushed you to say anything if you weren't ready-

- Ellie who sat and listened to you whenever you needed to rant, and in fact. it was the first time you ever opened up to Ellie.

"this is how my story begins and I don't ever wanna tell the story again" you cry as tears drip down your face "it's okay, you can cry- I'm here for you" you immediately find comfort in Ellie's lap.

"and my dad? fuck he was crazy, he was never present- he cheated on mom so many fucking times and i- he used to yell at me for leaving a light on, that's fucking insane am I right?" ranting on and on, Ellie didn't once turn her attention to something else. it was on you and only you.

- Ellie who pushed you out of your comfort zone to make more friends and learn that not all people are bad, she knew you had social anxiety due to growing up with your parents who never taught you how to communicate properly.

"I'd do whatever I can do to protect you, you know that right?" Ellie says as she places her hand on your thigh, as she drives to Jesse's place. you smile and nod, leaning on her shoulder as she drives.

- Ellie who watched you have a panic attack over eating the last brownie, that was in fact her brownie. "I don't care, it's not the end of the world babe, it's just a brownie" she chuckles, this doesn't calm you down once—ellie realises this and hugs you tight "it's okay"

"my dad left money in mom's hands but I always felt bad for eating the last food because maybe Mom doesn't have enough money and i-" Ellie pats your head in a comforting way, suddenly you realise there wasn't any reason to react to that.

- Ellie who was so happy to see you finally come out of your shell and actually enjoy life the way people should—she pushed you to finally get therapy, which helped a lot. she noticed you going out a lot more, not crying over every small inconvenience.

- Ellie who cuddled you so much that you actually wanted to push her off you sometimes "Ellie, I'm boiling" she grumbles, and you chuckle at her half asleep body, pulling a hair strain behind her ear as she snuggles into you more.

- Ellie who teared up when you told her that she saved your life, "are you crying?"

"what? me, ew get away!" she sniffles and hugs you, telling you how much she loves you.

[dirtytransmasc]

~ Mother Flower — Spider and Sa'syul in grief ~

Spider and Neteyam's ikran grieve their loss together.

Her name is Sa'syul. "Sa" taken from Sa'nok, or mother. "Syul" taken from Syulang, or flower. Name Translation: Mother Flower.

Spider has lost his baby brother, Sa'syul has lost her fledgling, both are everyone's last thoughts in terms of grief, and both seek each other to soothe the pain.

Note: in canon, according to the wiki, Neteyam's ikran is male, but idc about that, I think Eywa would have given Neteyam an older, motherly, female ikran to watch over him and act as a second mother and he would have loved her.

↓↓↓ fic below ↓↓↓

They're both grieving. They're both missing a piece of themselves. Their boy' gone. His baby brother, her perfect little hatchling. Taken by war, never to return.

Sa'syul had stopped eating. She couldn't bring herself to do it, to go out and hunt, couldn't find it in herself to soar the skies or touch the water or weave the odd mangrove forest. Grief consumed her in her seclusion to the dark of the trees, away from everyone else. All but one boy. The human boy. Spider.

Her boy had loved him, missed him, and wanted things to be better. He had been scared to try and approach him after years of being distant. He wanted to fix it, but didn't know how. Now he never would.

Spider found solace in the forest. He had to be strong for his siblings, not wanting his grief to weigh on them, and wouldn't dare mourn in front of Neytiri or the similarly mourning village, he didn't have the right to.

So he went to the forest to be alone, to scream and cry and hit things to try and make the ache in his chest go away. It never did. it just consumed him, like it did Sa'syul, draining him of energy and will and life.

Both hid away in the forest to keen and starve and wallow.

Neither knew what to do with him gone. How was life meant to continue? How were they meant to keep living? How does one live without her bonded? Her fledgling? What about his baby brother?

It all seemed so impossible. How could they just move on as if he was still here?

She watches him, watches him cry, watches him curl into the hollows of trees and sob, watches him punch at the ground and the rocks and the trees till his knuckles bleed.

He had listened to her mourning songs, her grief filled cries, her agonized calls to the sea, calling for her little hatchling to come back to her, to rise from the waves. He watched the skies to see if she would go out and hunt, but she never did, not once since he had returned to his siblings.

They pity one another. It's impossible not to. Both are withering away. Both are alone. No one hears them.

Until one day, the human boy doesn't come to the forest.

Sa'syul didn't hear him crying as usual, she didn't see him curled up in a hollow, didn't smell the blood from his battered fists in the air.

So she goes looking, wanting to know where he has gone? Why was he not here, with her, in the forest, their place of grief and solace?

She finds him lying in the sandy grass, just on the outskirts of the village, basking in the sun, hands mindlessly petting at the grass beneath him, not caring for his risky choice of a resting place.

He hears the rustling of brush and branches from the forest. Part of him hesitates to turn and look at the potential threat, willing to chance fate, but ultimately he knows better, and shifts his head to look at what's watching him from the treeline.

He sees Sa'syul, truly, for the first time in months. He'd caught glimpses of her in the forest, but never sought to look at the hiding creature. He respected her wishes. She would remain hidden from his eyes if that's what she wished.

The last time he'd actually seen her was when he helped Lo'ak tend the ikran after the last raid. Neteyam couldn't do it because he was being tended to. She had preened his hair a bit when he scratched where her harness had been.

Now she was a pitiful sight, coming out of a fortnight long seclusion. Her figure was weak and thinning, eyes sad, posture tired and shaky.

Withered was the right word for her.

Despite this, she's quick to approach him, shuffling forward on her foreclaws, coming beside him without hesitation, nosing at him with her beak, and sniffing him gently, chirping as she inspects him for injury. When she finds him uninjured, outside of the scabbed wound on his chest, she calls to him, wanting him to follow her.

She wants him to go back into the forest, but he doesn't move. She nudges his leg harder, then his side, trying to force him to sit up. When he doesn't, she gets worried and frustrated. This is what her hatchling's body had been like when she saw him for the last time. She knows this boy isn't dead, not like her Neteyam, but why would he get up?

He's not sure what he's meant to do as she stares at him, clicking at him like he was a chick. He shifts ever so slightly so he can lie firmly on his back, a vulnerable position, but one that is solid and secure. He won't risk any sudden moves, especially as he cries and touches become more and more desperate.

After that, he doesn't move a muscle, trying to avoid her eyes, but not closing his own, not wanting to disrespect and anger her, but he won't show weakness either.

When he doesn't move, she decides to settle into the grass with him, unable to hold herself up any longer and giving into his wishes. Maybe the boy just needed time. Maybe he was exhausted like her and couldn't find it in himself to move. Maybe he just needed to see that it was safe.

But she does the unexpected, at least in Spider's opinion. She rests her head against him, rubbing against his shoulder and chin before laying her beak over his chest and arm, careful of the wound there, her wings spreading to soak up the warmth of the sun.

She keens once more. The warmth reminds her of flying. She remembers she will never fly with her boy again. It hurts.

Spider is awe struck. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't even know what to feel. He'd come here for a cry, not having the energy to climb through the brush or up into the trees

— Or the dirty looks every time he came back. No one trusted him, always questioned what he was doing in those hours he spent hidden away —

So he had slumped into the grass and tried to convince himself this was all a bad dream and he had just fallen asleep in the forest, back home, and he would wake up and head back to the village and find all four of his siblings alive and well.

And now he had his baby brother's mourning ikran lying on his chest. He doesn't know what he should do, if he should say something, if one wrong move will get him killed.

Sure he had worked with her before and she seemed to like him, this was different than taking her tack off, she was grieving and starving and who knew how she would react to him.

Ikran were flighty creatures on the best of days and this was not the best of days, so he was erring on the side of caution.

What was she even doing here? With him of all people? He had no idea, but listening to the cries she let out caused something in his chest to well up.

He recognizes them.

He understood them.

If there was one thing he understood about this situation, it was her cries.

They were cries of agony, of longing, of grief and mourning. They were screams of a pain so deep you think it must be killing you.

As her calls reverberated through his chest, they felt like all the ones he had cried himself. She missed him, and he did too.

He can't help the tears that gather in his eyes or the sobs that barrel out of his chest. They're silent at first, part of him terrified to mourn out in the open, but the flood gates open as she begins to keen along with him, agonized sounds leaving her as she slumps into her more and more, clearly exhausted, and silent sobs turn to wails.

He finally moved to sit up, trying to escape the head rush and weight on his chest, taking her with him as he did so, shifting her so her head lay in his lap. She coos at him a bit as she nuzzles into his lap, accepting the change with ease.

He rubs a hand over her beak, up over her forehead, down her neck, and under the edges of her riding saddle — Neteyam never got a chance to take it off, he never would ever again, and no one could get close to her after the funeral. So there it had stayed — scratching at the itch that surely lingered there.

"I miss him too, I miss him so much Sa'syul," he sobbed, peering down into his lap, into her eye, fingers reacting the patterns that danced on her skin, "I want him, I want him to come back, I want this all to be a bad dream"

She cries up to him, lifting her head to nudge her beak into her chin and then his cheek, wiping the tears away, wings fluttering with emotion, tail shifting where it laid on the ground.

"Why did he have to come and save my dumb ass? I would have been fine! I would have gotten out on my own and he would still be here..... it's all my fault," he rubs a hand at his face, a realization hitting him like a train, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. He should be here with you... not me."

The second the words fell from his mouth, she snapped her strong jaw at him, not nipping him, but the sound alone shocked him. She sat up from where she lay in his lap, not straying far, but rising to look him in the eye.

She couldn't speak, but she didn't have to. He bowed his head in respect. He didn't agree with her thinking, but didn't make it known.

Before he can even look up, she's nuzzling him again, breathing warm air out of her vents, bringing her wings in front of her, as if to comfort him and cradle him in her arms. He settles into her chest, letting the tears fall and his heart ache. She does the same. But not being alone makes it feel less all consuming.

As they fall apart in each other's presence, Neytiri will catch a glimpse of them, her first born’s ikran wrapped around the demon's child. She watches as Spider cries into Sa'syul's chest, and listens to the ikrans own cries. A deep feeling of dread forms in her chest. Was it anger? Guilt? Grief? Something else entirely? She wasn't sure.

She just knew she hated seeing them that close, hated seeing how he pet at her head and the bases of her kuru's, feeling that the child should not be anywhere near her son's ikran, should not encroach on that scared bond, should not be taking her son's place… yet, she saw the way Sa’syul clung to the boy, the first person she had approached since being shown Neteyam's body, and she knew that the ikran needed this just as much as the boy did.

She would be cruel to tear them apart, and she should probably feel guilty for even thinking about it, for the way she's treated Spider, so poorly he refuses to grieve in her presence, bottling it up until he can disappear.

She doesn't move to stop them. And when Spider comes back to the mauri hours later smelling of ikran, she says nothing.

After that day, Spider will go hunting for Sa’syul, bringing her baskets of fish and fruits, sometimes meat if he can find something good in the strange mangrove forests he's learning to hunt in. They would sit in the sun at the forest line, leaning into one another, sharing their feast with one another. She'd have her fair share of preening him, nibbling at his salt soaked locs and peeling shoulder, and he'd give her a good rub down, loving on her as much as he could.

They'd even play fight now and then, whether it be a spur of the moment event or a fight over the last piece of fruit it didn't matter. It made them smile.

And te words and calls and songs that would be passed between them were their own little secret, they understood things no one else could, in ways no one else could. They may not share the same language, but they saw each other, and that's all that mattered.

Spider would never be Neteyam, would never be her hatchling, or her bonded, not like her boy had been. But he was a hatchling and he had no one else and he understood her so she would watch out for him. She would love him and care for him and keep him safe, because that's what her boy would have wanted.

And being alone was much worse than being with him. He was good and kind and golden and so much like her boy. He never pushed her or tried to bond with her in anything more than quiet companionship. He brought her treats and scratched all the right places and would cheer when she took to the skies once more. It was like a balm to her aching heart.

and he loved her. She was a warm, calm, wise presence. She did not care that he was human. He respected her and she respected him. she would preen him and he would preen her. Soon they would hunt together in the forest. For once things were a two way street. It was nice.

They made it work. They made the grief tolerable.

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

bucky x kit first meeting? bucky x kit first meeting. warnings: vaguely nsfw, mention of suicide

-> red.

The flight over from Greenland had been a doze for all parties concerned - after almost nine hours of travel with scarcely thirty minutes to stretch her legs at that refuel stop back in Keflavik, Kit McKenzie had no intention of calling it a night until something even remotely interesting occurred. Most of the crew seemed to have had enough of each other for one day, heading off to settle into their allocated hut. But frankly, she couldn't blame them. After so many hours of listening to Marty butchering Norwegian folk songs - not to mention Angel's clumsy recounting of Pioneer Day - she wasn't surprised that the majority had preferred to simply knock themselves out for now.

But not Kit. Now she stood at the bar in the village pub, accepting a pint with a grin as it was passed to her and nodding along as Cruikshank pointed out each familiar face as it passed, explaining to her the names she needed to know. There had never been much effort taken on her part to figure out who anyone outside of her own crew was, but it was all at once becoming important now that she actually had to report to some of these people.

"Right, so that one's Cleven, and that one's... Blakely?" She repeated, pointing to the men clustered around the large table in the corner.

"Douglass," He corrected her with a nod. Kit snapped her fingers, wagging a hand at him as she began to catch on.

"Yes. Right - thanks."

"Crank!" Another voice rang out from behind her as Kit took a sip of her beer, eyes widening slightly to peer over the rim of her glass as she turned to glance up at the intruder. "You need another drink? I'm buyin' a round." Tall, dark-haired - handsome enough that she was actually willing to admit to having noticed it. But it wasn't quite the first time she'd seen him.

"Major John Egan," She spoke up, mimicking Crank's accent and tone of deference as she raised a hand in a loose, mock salute.

"Gettin' good," Crank nudged her in approval. Egan paused, expression drooping slightly in confusion, making him look like a disconcerted puppy. It was oddly endearing, actually.

"... Scuse me?"

"Oh, yeah, just helping McKenzie here put some names to some faces," Crank straightened himself, gesturing between the pair standing before him as he spoke their introductions. "Egan, McKenzie - McKenzie, Egan."

"Kit," She nodded, holding out a hand.

He took it, shaking without hesitation. "Bucky."

They just smiled at each other for a moment, neither realising quite how long until Crank cleared his throat, seizing their attention. "I, uh... about that drink?"

"Oh, yeah, uh," Bucky glanced around for a moment, gaze landing on his own fresh pint, not yet touched. "There ya go," He smiled, holding it out to him. Crank didn't exactly appear enthusiastic, but free beer was free beer, so he took it nonetheless.

"You're, uh, you're with the new flight crew, right?" He asked, pointing to Kit. "The, uh..." Searching for the name, he snapped his fingers repeatedly, as if trying to summon the words.

"The Seraphim," Kit nodded.

"That's it. So where's the rest of you?"

She shrugged. "Most of 'em have hit the sack already... I think Yara bottled somebody over there about twenty minutes ago, which cleared out the rest, so. Yeah. Just me."

"Just you." Bucky repeated, flashing a sliver of teeth as the corner of his lip rose in a boyish, lopsided grin. He hadn't so much as spared Crank a glance since he and Kit had begun talking, so with a slight rolling of eyes he decided to clear off, the pair of them left alone at the bar.

Kit noticed him go, letting out a huff of amusement as her attention returned to the Major. She nodded towards his empty hand. "Buy you a beer?"

He grinned, shaking his head slightly. "I buy my own beer. But I will buy your next round."

She chuckled. "Deal."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It didn’t take long for them to lose count of how many beers they'd bought one another, drinking and flirting until their faces flushed red and their voices got loud. As the rest of his friends began to leave, Bucky had insisted on making her drunken introduction, swaying slightly as he presented her to the crew. Kit might have curtsied at some point - neither of them could quite remember.

What she did remember was the pair of them leaving, bumping against one another as their balance passed from foot to foot, laughter rising into the cool night air. She remembered him pausing, and her doing the same, their gazes locked. She remembered pressing her lips against his and him kissing her back, hands cupping her jaw as he sucked in a long, sharp breath. There was force in the way that he touched her, hunger, that tug that exists between intoxicated strangers as he pressed his body against hers, breaking the kiss to look down at her with that same uneven grin.

This was the way she knew - the way people connect when they have nowhere to go and nothing to offer. There'd been a junior high school farce of a 'boyfriend' years ago - so long ago that she scarcely remembered his name, just that he'd held her hand and taken her to the fair. But Kit McKenzie hadn't been someone who got more than this, here, for a long time. She expected nothing more, and wanted nothing less.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The sun was just rising over the horizon as she slowly blinked, regaining consciousness early the next morning. A faint hint of headache thrummed behind her eyes, the room above the pub unfolding around her in peaceful quiet, the sound of another's breathing echoing just out of sync with her own. The bed sheets were warm and soft against her bare chest, and Kit felt the distinct urge to tug the duvet up over her head and burrow into the cotton cocoon, if only to steal away a few extra hours of sleep. How long had it been since she'd sunk into a mattress this comfortable? Years - if ever.

Bucky let out a groan as he too began to gradually rouse himself, his arm draped across her back as he instinctively rubbed his knuckle up and down along her spine, hand so warm that she didn't even flinch. "Mornin'," He uttered, voice foggy with sleep, but she could hear the smile in his tone. Turning her head away from the window, Kit spared him a glance, rubbing at her eye with the hell of her palm.

"Hey."

"Y'alright?"

"Mhm."

Their words came dry, tired - dull with exhaustion and soft with calm. He was staring at her, those brown eyes round and shining like a damn baby deer, his smile so gentle that it made her want to choke. The blankets rustled as she rolled over and pushed herself upright, sitting with her back pressed up against the headboard, closing her eyes for a moment to soothe the throbbing in her temples. There wasn't a hint of embarrassment, nor movement to cover herself, and Bucky found himself too struck with admiration to even bother gazing at the body he'd spent all night pressed up against.

"Tell me something," He huffed, pushing himself up on his elbow only to flop onto his back, dark hair ruffled against the pillow. "About you."

Kit chuckled dryly. "About me? Like what?"

"Oh, Jesus, I dunno," Bucky threw up a hand, letting out a huff. "... What does your old man do?"

"My old man?" She teased.

"First thing I thought of," He shrugged. "C'mon."

"Alright. He was a grape farmer."

He fell quiet then, the mischievous smile that had creased his cheeks fading slightly. Was. "He died?"

Kit snorted. "He shot himself, is what he did. Lost his job after the crash, spent two years lookin' for a new one, then gave up - happened more than you'd think."

The flippancy with which she'd announced it startled him for a moment, her expression unwaveringly placid as she recounted the event. She raised her hands to her face, using both thumbs to push her hair back behind her ears.

"Shit, hey, I'm-"

"God, please don't apologise - It was ages ago, and last time I checked you didn't have anything to do with it."

Bucky nodded, pushing himself up to sit beside her. "Alright."

"Well, now you gotta tell me somethin'."

"Well..." He furrowed his brow as if thinking intensely. "I'm a big fan of baseball. And unicorns. And-"

"Shut the fuck up," Kit burst into laughter, her cheeks reddening in a way that made him smile. "You can't gimme that after all this, that's not fair!"

"I don't know what to tell you, I'm a simple guy," Bucky grinned, chuckling.

She rolled her eyes, the ghost of a laugh still etched on her face as she glanced at the clock on the nightstand, a jolt of panic suddenly overtaking her expression. "Shit!"

"What?"

"It's past five-thirty, I gotta go," Kit scurried off the bed, scrounging to gather her clothes and re-dress. He didn't move for a moment, before realising this meant he had to go too, and soon they were both scrambling to remake their appearances from the night before, Kit combing the knots out of her hair with her fingers as Bucky fumbled to button up his shirt.

"Ok, I'm out," She huffed, streaking across the room towards the door and tugging it open.

"See ya 'round!" His voice called after her as she stepped out into the hall. From there, he couldn't see the way her expression drooped, the colour draining from her cheeks as she turned towards the stairs. He couldn't see the way her shoulders momentarily tensed, an unspoken promise that yes, he would see her again - but it wouldn't be like this. That was much too real for the likes of Kit McKenzie.

But dammit, it sure would've been nice if it wasn't.

[wonton4rang]

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i love u 3000 ¡!

pairing: riwoo x reader.

warnings: +18, smut, fluff, some angst maybe, kissing.

summary: short scenarios of firsts with riwoo.

note: this is a series! you can find the other ones here <3 i am OBSESSED with those riwoo's pics because omg he looks so cute and soft :(((

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first time he realises he's in love; the cliché would be you guys having dance lessons together but we are better than that so imagine you are at a convenience store, getting some ramen, sausage and a cold drink to ease the stress of your day while you listened to some music. you would be so focused on the songs blasting on your earphones that you didn't even hear the soft voice calling for you until you felt a hand tapping your shoulder and looked up. pretty eyes staring into yours and a sweet smile greeting you before he spoke up, informing you that the store was supposed to close an hour ago but he didn't want to disturb you. tbh you thought he was the cutest and nicest person ever and he got curious about the way you looked so tired yet so beautiful, so you can bet you kept going there and both of you grew feelings. he knew it from the beginning because ain't nobody doing an extra hour until 1am for almost a MONTH just for fun, bffr. you even thought the store closed at 1am because he never said anything but today he noticed you looked too tired so he spoke up </3

how would he confess; after you guys had your first meeting and actually spoke to each other something more than just a simple "hi, yes, thank you, please" when he was at the register, you quickly tried to appeal more to him as you noticed he was kinda shy. which lead to you waiting for him to finish his shift and walk together to the bus stop while you talked about anything and everything, he was just so fun to be around and he felt the same way. so that day after you left the store and walked through the streets during winter, he held your hand so he could make you stop and look at him before he laughed softly and got closer to you, explaining how happy he felt by your side and that even if he wasn't the best boy in the world, he would like you to give him a chance to make you as happy as you made him.

officially dating w riwoo; do you know about those really clingy yet shy and retracted type of boyfriends that might be mistaken as really dumb and blindly in love and would be so funny to be around, making all sorts of jokes but just to you and with you because he just feels comfortable enough by your side? yeah, well, hi riwoo <33 he would always be making those dad jokes while he looked right into your eyes and waited for you to laugh at the most awful thing ever said by a human being. he would be really clingy, kisses all over your face, cuddles for hours and hours while he just softly caresses your hair and kisses your cheeks, even falling asleep for a while with you on his arms because that's just how much peace you gave him. you obviously did karaoke night every once in a while while singing your lungs out and dancing till your feet hurt.

first kiss; it would just be so cute, he would be so nervous yet decided to do it that it would make him flustered the moment he gets you alone, finally back at home (probably on karaoke night), he would sit besides you and you felt his hands shaking when he grabbed your arm and barely held your stare before looking at the ground. "is something wrong, riri?" his head denied your words but the way he kept shaking made you a little bit sceptical about his answer so you tried to make him look at you only to find his blushed face. "i feel so ashamed right now and i don't know how to ask but-" , "can i kiss you?" riwoo saw heaven's gates opening up when he heard that because he couldn't manage to say it himself. he just nodded and you were already leaning in to hold his face and lock your lips together in an innocent yet slow kiss without tongue that made both of your knees weak.

first time he wanted to do more than just a peck; even though he would be really shy during the first kiss, i do think that after the first was done he would gain confidence and kiss you a lot. so the day you guys were just watching some anime while sharing little pecks and giggles and you felt his hand hold your thigh, you knew that something was gonna happen. specially when you looked up and he just stared down at you with a soft grin, making you move until you were sitting on his lap so he could hold the back of your neck and kiss your lips like he never did before. he would have one hand on your waist and the other one on your nape, his tongue playing with yours in such a sensual way that you couldn't help but start grinding down on him. and even though things were getting hotter with each second that passed by, he managed to giggle during the kiss, pulling away to caress your hair and then your flushed cheeks before saying "i really, really like you, y/n" :((

first time meeting your family; i feel like he would try to pretend like he ain't that nervous but he literally has a notebook with notes about everything you've said to him about your parents, sheets and more sheets of recommendations, things to say, topics of things that were trending when your parent's were young, songs from your parent's favourite singers, he had everything wrote down and yet his hands were sweating and his throat got blocked when he tried to say "hi" to them. it was funny for you because you knew how nervous he was and he had no reason to be because honestly? your parents already loved him, they have heard and seen him multiple times when they video called you and riwoo didn't even notice when he kissed the top of your head and told you to come join him at bed so you could rest. so when they said those little details they have seen, he would nervously laugh and then start to get loose and make those really bad jokes that only him and your dad would laugh about. "i hope you guys get married soon, i want grandchildren" your mom would say without the two males listening "i just hope the kids don't get his sense of humour"

first time w riwoo; when you guys get to the point were this is gonna happen, riwoo is going to look so happy, so smiley and yet looking so hot that it's just crazy. you can't seem to understand the way he looks at you with such adoring eyes while his hands caressed your body. he would be the type to hold your hands while he deeply pounds into your cunt and sweetly smiles at you, kissing your cheeks, your lips, your nose, and even your forehead, brushing his nose against the crook of your neck before sucking lighlty the skin there and making you mewl, your legs trying to shut close but his hips stopping you. "i love you so much" he would whisper every time but the first one would be engraved in the crooks of your brain, always causing a swirl in your stomach and making you blush each time you remember it.

overall, riwoo is a very loving, caring and sweet boy, you could expect the same thing with him as a lover. he is very loyal, extremely, in fact, and has a sense of duty and responsibility that is almost crazy. i also find riwoo to be an observer, not much of a talker yet he always likes to light the mood with a few jokes that are not funny but you end up laughing at his laugh.

i don't think you guys would argue much but when it happens it would probably be over some moral stuff like you wanted to do something or said something that he doesn't find to be kind or actually morally correct. it could you defending an infidelity or someone lying over something so he would definitely speak up and be so offended that he could even say "so you would cheat on me or lie to me because is not such a big deal?" the argument would end in that moment and both of you would apologize for even discussing about it.

he would be close to your parents but not super close tho, he would love you blindly, make you food, take care of you when you're sick, always lighten the mood w silly jokes and definitely introduces you to his friends.

so if you need a puppy like lover but a little bit more introverted, that only has eyes for you but wouldn't fall in the boredom of being too complaint, someone who your parents will love and, eventually, so will your friends, someone with the one you can keep your health due to good alimentation and regular physical activity, and last but not least, someone who will not be the most secure person ever but will make sure to work on it and make you feel the best, then riwoo is your best choice !!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i think i went overboard with some of those but i'm going through such a riwoo root rn that i couldn't help it 😔 hope y'all enjoyed tho !! 🫶

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c11. preview

simon riley x original character.

abstract: she called me passenger princess? you know what I'm not even gonna question it, I couldn't care less. here you have your chapter in which Jude gets all mean and I make the stupidest decision of my life, right. enjoy. 

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.

song to listen to when reading this: First love / Late spring, Mitski

The next day, when the girls came to class she was already waiting for them, the barres ready for the lesson. She was wearing black, pink tights, black leotard, black skirt. She had a slick, tight bun. A proper one, high on her head. She waited for them to take place in the room and without saying a word, she stood between them. Silence was heavy around them. She didn't put music on. 'Let's begin' she said, and began her warmup. The girls followed in silence. Their breaths were the only sound that filled the room. They wanted to play, let's play. After warming up and stretching, she took a look around. Their faces showed concern. Some didn't even raise their eyes from their feet. Gemma seemed calm, one hand on the barre, the other on her hip. 'Pliés'. It was a command. Still, no music.

Gemma saw the same man who was in Jude's car when she got out of the school. He was getting inside the building, maybe to say hi to her teacher. She smiled at him when she walked past. 'I think that's Miss Alba's boyfriend', she giggled with Luna at her side. He smiled to himself, not really for the boyfriend assumption, which rather embarrassed him, but because he finally got her name. Alba. Alba… It suited her. 

That was going to be the first time he ever saw her dance. He wasn't supposed to, and she will probably never know he had been watching her. I'm going to tell you now, even though he doesn't know yet. He was never going to forget that moment. He was entering a temple, a secretive space, another universe in which time and space didn't matter.

notes: I'll probably do a double update soon!! I'm alive!!!

taglist:

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me

[starry-bi-sky]

realizing i have. a lot of untapped trauma potential for clone^2 danny because i just Fully Processed Four Months Late the fact that his parents were capturing and torturing ghosts in the basement before he became Phantom. and the fact that he was on house rest for 2 weeks. during that time period. and he wasn't really leaving the house. he could hear their screaming through the floorboards

*points at clone danny* i can give you suuuuuuch a bad time babe ahaha. i've got two untouched years before you meet damian what fucks you up before then

[yujeong]

Memory Sieve

A poem inspired by this playlist of the same name, composed by Francis Wells (memory like a sieve = when you forget things very easily) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ All your life, you've been a traveler. Always moving, never standing still as if the thought of stopping - of reflecting - will make your heart stop beating. Whenever you catch yourself drifting, reminiscing times long gone, warm mornings of your mother sowing the summer barley, smiling to herself, your breath catches in your throat and the dizziness consumes you, as if the memory isn't supposed to be there, unnatural in its effort to take space in your head. Sometimes, I wonder. Do you recall the little house on the hill? Do you remember what you did with your cruel hands? How you touched me, worshipped me like a God and molded me into new shapes? Do you remember what you told me after? How you took it all away as if it never mattered at all? Still, the journey I took to return made me realize that the chronicles of my life were a blank page before you came along. Now, I can tell from the inside looking out that I am indeed a person or, at least, human enough to touch you, grab you by your shirt, shake you, and remind you of what we are. What we became. It seems like you forgot. Looking at you covered in blood, facing your back, your gun trembling in your hands, I know the stories they'll tell when you're gone. Stories of a monster disguised as a man, a cousin, a brother, a son, but I will not wait for that time to come. I refuse to accept it, to make peace with it. For we made a promise, in the form of a blue stick-it note. Perhaps you forgot, but I did not. Wake up. I'm hungry.

[seithr]

Randomly remembered the half-reason i call my oc-verse by the name it has while laying in bed. One-half of the reason i still knew, but I had forgotten what had truly, really cemented it jointly until now

(it was a song from my favourite band I haven't listened to in a while.)

(the song fit so well at the time, still does, that i needed to hold onto it for the main protagonists forever, by partially naming their story in reference.)

Does this explanation make any sense? Does anyone know why I'm tearing up remembering this. Aahh

[taurusii]

A potential future cover for Viktor and Margit's chapter of my story (provided the author will finally write something more than a draft) I finally managed to finish this one, although it took a little longer due to unexpected health issues

[woofety]

Poets of the Fall - Children of the sun

[new-haven-psych-ward]

trying to find good subs for shows is just deciding what your tolerance level is for:

untranslated words like language-specific honorifics, words with "too much culture-specific context" that are "impossible" to find a 1-to-1 correspondence, my nakama, or any term you saw floating around on the internet in the early 2010's and prior MAXIMUM PROFANITY where any word that could maybe be considered vulgar is taken to its FULL FUCKING POTENTIAL

the op and ed never being translated :'( waiting months for updates and not being sure if a sub group killed this project or not

[cobaltfluff]

len and kaito's flyaway changing my life at 9pm on a sunday night was not how i expected my week to end but here we are

[honeyvenommusic]

oops I just made my most dynamic, interesting, and favorite song to date (when I swore I just wanted to get the beat and opening synth out of my head) and it only took me 4 hours.

I’ve already gone outside at 3 am to start shooting a video or something because I’ve been listening to it on repeat on accident and I can’t get images out of my head lol

[winxys]

also can i just say how nice it felt to enjoy an ooo release and have no complaints 😭😭

[iysics]

.