#its nice to revisit the songs

[twistedroseytoesy]

Be prepared for Leona's scheme

Perfect song for book 2's events. animatic style for this one since the story for it is just from book 2 of the game.

Leona in front of his dorm: I never thought others' essential moving between some of the groups of students: They're crude and unspeakably plain he turns to them once he reaches the back: But maybe they've a glimmer of potential He flips his hair with a smirk: If allied to my vision and brain He snaps his fingers as a bolt of magic shoots between two whispering students: I know that your powers of retention Are as wet as a warthog's backside He hisses as he moves on top of a stone before them all: But thick as you are, pay attention! He glares into the star-filled night sky: My words are a matter of pride he waves his hand in front of a sloth beast person: It's clear from your vacant expressions He smirks as he points to his temple: The lights are not all on upstairs he pulls out a spelldrive disk: But we're talking winners and successions He throws it and many of them duck as it wizzes overhead: Even you can't be caught unawares summons illusionary trophies: So prepare for a chance of a lifetime illusions of news about savanaclaw: Be prepared for sensational news A shining new era Is tiptoeing nearer Jack: And where do we feature? Leona glaring at the wolf's returning glare: Just listen to teacher he frowns a bit: I know it sounds sordid he tosses illusionary money at them: But you'll be rewarded When at last I am given my dues! he pulls out and rips apart a diasomnia flag: And injustice deliciously squared all: Be prepared!

all: It's great that we'll soon be connected With a player who'll be all-time adored Leona smirking as he watches them: Of course, quid pro quo, you're expected To take certain duties on board more illusionary money is thrown: The future is littered with prizes he smirks as he places a crown on his head: And though I'm the main addressee his smirk falls: The point that I must emphasize is the illusions disappear as he roars: You won't get a sniff without me!

He throws out another diasomnia flag: So prepare for the coup of the century he throws a picture of malleus into the mud: Be prepared for the murkiest scam Meticulous planning Tenacity spanning he looks at the 2nd place trophies from previous times: years of denial Is simply why I'll he sets them on fire: Be winner undisputed he walks past the lineup, some bowing some saluting: Respected, saluted he flips back onto the rock smirking: And seen for the wonder I am Yes, my teeth and ambitions are bared Be prepared! all excitedly ripping up diasomnia stuff with claws and teeth: Yes, our teeth and ambitions are bared Be prepared!

[larabar]

never getting over how. melancholy im here sounds

the chords in the chorus sound a little more triumphant at first but it kinda just sounds like a half victory. the pain of the journey is still there, even at the end of it all. but its alright. i will be with you. im here

[undermostcorgi]

the media which consumes your entire soul at age 12 will forever be a part of you. this is an unavoidable consequence of living and you have to accept this fact. no matter how old you get, no matter how long it has been since you last saw its smug face peeking out from the bushes as it follows you, no matter if you think you have outrun it for good and that you're finally finally safe and you hardly even remember it exists anymore and your brain knows a few brief moments of true peace, it WILL catch up to you in your moment of weakness. and listen you don't want to hear this but sometimes this is necessary for your mental health. you will on instinct want to reject it and run away again but sometimes. sometimes you just need to watch that old show or listen to that silly song or read that weird book again as an adult and it will hurt you a little bit in various little ways but it will also heal you a little bit. you can call it nostalgia you can call it connecting with your inner child or whatever you want but just listen to me it WILL HAPPEN TO YOU TOO AT SOME POINT AND YOU HAVE TO BE PREPARED FOR THIS (i am forcibly dragged off the stage by security)

[missmalaysia]

me talking ab my ex out of nowhere had my friend thinking me n luq broke up lolll

[kumezyzo]

more desperate bf!sapnap please. . .....

kinda jealous and lightly desperate bf!sap with streamer reader cause why not. we're also revisiting the Everest MV idea.

so, enjoy! or dont... :) m.list

bf!sapnap who went back the idea of you wearing outfits similar to the girls in the music video once he saw how Gravy interacted with you.

"these are my boys," dream introduced as he stomped up the stairs. "and yn."

you glared at him as he motioned to each of you on the couch, restating your names.

you stand up, "hi, its nice to meet you!" you say as you reach your hand out for a handshake.

"yea, i know who you are!" he tells you enthusiastically, going in for a hug instead. you let out a surprised 'oh' and you pull away from the hug.

"you do?" you ask with a slight smile.

"i already kinda knew who you were but when i heard you vocals on the song, i thought it would be cool to check you out," he said nodding.

"oh my god, thank you," you laugh, glancing at dream. he was looking at your boyfriend behind you on the couch.

bf!sapnap who just keeps a close eye on you when you and gravy start interacting more between 'scenes'. he lowkey glared from a distance when the tall blonde compliments you and cracks a few jokes to seemingly make you laugh.

when bf!sapnap saw you come out in a string bikini for one of the scenes, he stopped everything he was doing and went over to talk to you.

"do you need something to cover up with?" he asked, trying to stand in a way to block you from everyone there.

you smile at him with a quiet laugh, "no we start filming in like five minutes," he nods and looks down at your practically naked body. you shake your head and lean in to give him a peck on the lips.

he places his warm hands on your waist, looking at your cleavage and shamelessly checking you out.

bf!sapnap who has you sitting up on the bar outside when the camera is panning around everyone. he's feeling up your sides and getting close enough to kiss you but never actually doing it.

the director at one point has to ask him to move away from you to get more shots of your two on your own or in a different pose.

bf!sapnap who brings you your clothes from earlier in the shoot to change back into. he tries to get you to let him 'help you'.

"nick, i dont need help to put on a t-shirt and shorts," you tell your boyfriend with a blank face.

"of course you do! you need to undo the tie of your bikini," he says as if its obvious. you roll your eyes and shut the door to the bathroom, locking it loudly for emphasis.

its short cause i got tired. but someone, as a cw assignment, suggested writing about anthropomorphizing (?) objects and theres a podcast called Everything Is Alive that does exactly that. one of them is of a pregnancy test... and i would wanna be a pregnancy test just to know ive made someone burst into tears with something other than my writing... -nony

[seaofreverie]

Sparkstember Day 1: Halfnelson

This album is SO GREAT!! On my first listen I was immediately very impressed by it and I really love how it has this very particular early 70s rock sound that I'm a big fan of, while still being distinctly Sparks and its own special thing, at a time when Sparks was just starting to become its thing - the heart of it all was there from the very start! While it's not my top #1 favourite Sparks album or even one of my top 5 favourites (which is a nebulous category anyway that's likely to change and shift with time of course, and not even something I pay THAT much attention to) it's definitely still UP THERE and a very special album in my heart that I revisit quite often. Especially when I need something to simply relax but also appreciate some of that early Sparks' experimental and... almost whimsical? sound.

This album also reminds me of winter, a very snowy one at that, and that's in big part because of when I started listening to it for sure, but some of that vibe is already there in the music anyway if you ask me. Walking around a Christmas market in the city and hearing random tunes from this album playing in my head all the while, that's one great memory I have from last year. If I were to give this album some sort of visual representation it would definitely involve a lot of browns and other earthy tones - it would be very dark and mysterious without being scary or truly unnerving necessarily - think something like the Edith Piaf (Said It Better Than Me) music video, but less colorful and involving more wooden materials (yes, this is VERY specific and also definitely an image that's supported by that wintery association, as well as the imagery that my brain came up with for Simple Ballet, but more about that below...).

Favourite songs (and other highlights):

Wonder Girl

Roger

High C

Fletcher Honorama (the entire atmosphere this song has is incomparable with anything else)

Simple Ballet (this one was a later favourite but the IMAGERY and atmopshere here is, once again, very special, I actually developed an entire music video idea in my head for it at this point, even if it feels very vague)

Saccharine and the War (probably my favourite on the album)

No More Mr. Nice Guys (THAT guitar solo!! a real mind-blower on my first listen too)

[m1ssunderstanding]

I think your tags on the post about Paul's song Suicide got cut off. I was invested, and want to hear the rest of your thoughts :) Maybe you could put it all in a separate post if you don't want to add it as a reblog?

hey, thanks for this ask! It's always nice to have someone that wants to know my thoughts. I'd love to know yours on the subject too!

Okay super long text post under the cut

On “Suicide” 1956 and 1970

My interpretation of the meaning of Paul’s early song “Suicide” and its purpose on his debut solo album

The verse Paul had written in 1956 goes,

“If when she tries to run away

And he calls her back, she comes.

If there’s a next time, he’s okay

Cause she’s under both his thumbs.

She'll limp along to his side

Singing a song of ruin. I’d

Bet he says nothin’ doin’

I, I’d call it suicide.”

The song’s protagonist can’t leave an abusive relationship. The abuser knows it doesn’t matter what they do, the protagonist will always come back. Even when they’re limping, even when they vocalize their knowledge that this relationship is damaging, they’ll always come back, and the abuser is nonchalant. In the end,the singer likens the protagonist’s return to the relationship to suicide.

Just as the woman in the song is under her husband’s thumb, around the time this was written, Paul was very much under his father’s thumb. This was not due to any lack of self-direction or courage on his part. Jim was physically abusive (like the husband in the song) an addict, extremely controlling, and emotionally both unavailable and volatile. Still, in the same way that the woman in the song always goes back to her husband, Paul loved his father. It’s likely that Paul’s unusual degree of deference to his father was a combination of self-preservation and a genuine desire to help and please his father. Jim was also honest and well-liked, a lot of fun, intelligent, talented, a buyer of wonderful presents, and a supporter of Paul as a musician, and Paul felt great admiration and gratitude to Jim. And yet, Paul is not only the protagonist of “Suicide.” He’s also the singer. And the singer knows this relationship is destructive – bad enough to be likened to deadly.

So, “Suicide” is about Paul’s relationship with his father.

Enter John Lennon. Based on John’s perfect knowledge of “I lost my little girl” a full dozen years after being first shown it, I’m inclined to believe John was fully acquainted with the song “Suicide” and though I think pigs would fly before Paul would discuss its meaning with John, it’s not unlikely that he had his guesses.

It is also my tentative belief (based on the wording of the quote in which John talks about Paul and Jim and the issues with control and violence, the fact that John hit a lot of people, but never Paul, and the documented fact that John Lennon is intensely perceptive when it comes to Paul McCartney) that John knew Jim hit Paul. John hated Jim for all the same reasons Paul obeyed him. He hated that Jim was abusive, and he hated that Paul loved him. But. And here’s where I might be stepping on some toes. John and Jim share some important similarities.

Positives first. Both men are praised for being honest to a fault (Jim owning up to gambling debts and John being open and brash in interviews). Both are well-liked by almost everyone who knew them (People go on and on about what a gentleman Jim was, what a stand-up guy. People always think they’re John’s best friend after spending three hours with him) Both recognize Paul’s talent and give him the support he needs to pursue it (John obviously to a much higher degree) Both are described as being the life of the party and the center of attention.

Now negatives. Both men are highly susceptible to addiction. Both men pressured Paul about his lifestyle. Both are known to have been violent toward people they loved (although John was never violent toward Paul. This is important, and will be revisited). Both men had difficulty controlling their emotions or expressing them in a healthy way.

John eventually won his battle with Jim, as he states very proudly that Paul chose him in the end. He stood up to his father, as John claims he constantly begged him to do, and cast his lot with John, their partnership and their music. And, obviously, it was the right decision. Not only because it resulted in the greatest musical collaboration of all time, but because with John, Paul exchanged violence for softness. John was capable of a shocking level of care and tenderness, and for many years that was absolutely lavished on Paul. And I think they were both privately proud of that fact.

Jump to late 1969 / early 1970. John’s actions during the divorce (forcing Allen Klein – another violent and controlling man – on Paul, manipulating – self-admitedly – George and Ringo into turning against Paul, threatening – accidentally or on purpose – to treat Paul the way he’d treated Cynthia in their divorce, etc.) were hurtful enough to Paul that he was, in fact, suicidal (barely finding the strength not to suffocate himself in his pillow, taking way too much of everything, half-hoping he’ll overdose) and when he is finally pulling himself up again, he’s ignoring all John’s attempts to get him to come back (songs, interviews, letters, post-cards).

He puts out his debut solo album, the content of which makes John angry, though to an outsider, there doesn’t seem to be much there in the way of messaging.

Here’s what we get of “Suicide” a the end of “Glasses”, right before “Junk”

“ . . . song of ruin, I’d

Bet he says nothin’ doin’

I’d”

The part Paul chose to include was the abuser’s shrugging lack of surprise that the protagonist has returned, yet again, despite their knowledge that they’re walking back into abuse. I believe Paul’s message to John here is this: You were the one who taught me that there is a certain level of treatment I should expect from people who say they love me. Now that you’re the one who’s hurt me, you have to deal with what you’ve created. I’m not just going to come back to you with my tail between my legs and act like nothing happened. You taught me better than that. I’m really leaving. We’re really over.

[sanigopiece]

why uta is a well-written character

reposted from twitter since i saw uta get a lot of hate on there. a lot of people seem to not get her character so i am writing this post in hopes of getting people to see the light. anyways here we go,

1. her motivations are well supported by her backstory. it all began in the tragedy in elegia years prior where shanks took the blame for the destruction of the city and left uta in the care of gordon. this led uta to being forced into a life of loneliness and isolation for the rest of her growing up years.

these feelings accumulate while she studies music until she eventually finds a den den mushi to livestream her performance. here she learns of the harshness of pirates in the outside world and coupled with her resentment towards the red haired pirates for leaving her motivates her to revisit her old dream of starting a new genesis. this is a solid way of story cohesion between uta's backstory and her actions in the present. everything ties in very nicely & its easy to understand & empathize with.

2) i've seen some complain about how uta saying that she knew all along that she had caused the destruction of elegia & called it bad writing. this was actually her way of coping with the years of isolation but also her grief in shanks leaving her.

i speculate that uta realized she caused the destruction of elegia when she learned about tot musica and when faced with this, she chooses to find someone else to blame because guilt ate away at her so she chose to continue believing the lie that shanks did it. so it isnt bad writing because we are given more context on her mental state at the time and it is meant to be a gateway for viewers to empathize with her more but i guess people missed that.

3. she is not entirely evil. yes she is a villain because she believes she is doing whats right in order to achieve her goal however she still has goodness in her heart. she could've easily kept people trapped in the song world after tot musica was defeated.

but she didnt because she realized that what she did was wrong and she changed for the better. yes there's moments in the film where she does upsetting things like tearing shanks's hat but these were done in her mentally unstable state so it is unfair to entirely fault her for her actions. she is merely a misguided and misunderstood lonely girl with a dream so dont be so hard on her. she is good deep down.

4. her character is unique. already a given since we dont have that many music centric characters except maybe brook but even brook's powers aren't linked to music so uta is really special. also her songs carry so much meaning and not only does it set the mood for most scenes but it also adds to the story. i highly recommend checking out the lyrics of each uta song because they really tie in to the events of the story and you might just enjoy her character more.

5. her canonity adds more flare to the story. oda recently confirmed uta to be canon and this means a lot to both shanks and luffy's backstory. it does not detract from their backstories but rather it gives more context like how we understand a lot more about luffy's dream and why he wants a musician in his crew thanks to uta.

as for shanks, he now has more reason of being and we also got some clues to his lineage in the movie. this is really nice since most shoe horned characters have issues when they're added to canon.

alright so thats all. its been quite the long thread but i love uta and i want more people to appreciate her instead of hating or mischaracterizing her. if i missed anything do let me know. thanks and have a nice day <3

[kairiscorner]

ok, i'll be out with it, ako'y isang pinoy RRRGHHHHH tagalog is so fucking hard, help so i kinda had an idea to cope with my shitty filipino exam scores:

(also i'm sorry for the crappy spanish, please correct me on it if you'd like!)

miles morales x filipino reader

YOU WOULD MAKE HIM LISTEN TO IV OF SPADES, THEIR SHIT IS FUCKING FIRE, your songs with him are "mundo" and "come inside of my heart"

miles would sing "come inside of my heart" out loud when he's listening to it on his headphones, especially when he's alone in his room, it's in his playlist now bc of you.

YOU'D MAKE HIM LISTEN TO ERASERHEADS, you probably knew them bc of your parents, your favorite song to listen to with him is "ang huling el bimbo" (umiyak ng malala)

and ben & ben........ ARAW-ARAW IS Y'ALL'S SONG, CHANGE MY MIND

if you're like me, you have no two braincells that understand how to use tagalog or use its tenses properly, but you aren't used to using fluid english that well, so you speak taglish.

being part puerto rican and learning some spanish from his mom, i think you and miles would understand each other a little when using tagalog or spanish.

you both fear the slipper.

when you first met his parents, JUSME, THEY LOVED YOU.

they didn't understand at first what the "mano po" meant, but you explained it was a sign to accept blessings from your elders, and you always called them "tita" and "tito", which rio LOVED OMG.

"Entonces, ¿cuándo vas a invitarlos a una cita? (so, when are you going to ask them out on a date?) " rio would always ask miles this when you were around, and he'd be choking on air or clearing his throat and just laugh it off.

when you offered them rice cakes once, rio asked what they were called, and she almost choked when you said "ah, puto po"

"¿ESTO SE LLAMA COMO? (THIS IS WHAT?)"

jeff wanted more puto, but rio'd pinch his ear when he'd say "puto", she knows it's the name, but she feels kinda weird about it. she accepted it, but still sometimes cringes at the name (I'M SORRY, THAT'S THE NAME)

NOW IF IT WERE YOUR PARENTS (basing off my experience as a filipino so sorry if it's not like yours :'>) THEY'D BE TEASING YOU ABOUT HIM ALL THE DAMN TIME

"ano, jowa mo na ba siya? or ano..."

"nako, ikaw ha, mag-aral ka muna bago ka makipagjowa sa morales na yan"

"aalis ka? sino kasama mo? wala ba doon si morales? ay nandoon, edi sasamahan kita nak."

your parents wouldn't really have a problem with miles, they'd think he's a nice kid, they'd just watch your every move with him as long as he's in your house.

also, i think, you would teach him swear words in tagalog :>

you'd troll him to say "putangina mo" (now don't say this non-filipino readers <333) means "have a good morning"

he tried it on your parents

yeah they didn't like him after that, until you cleared it up and got reprimanded for teaching him the wrong stuff TT

either way, miles would love to learn more about your culture as a filipino, he thinks it's super interesting. you made him want to revisit his puerto rican roots and learn some more spanish when he realized some words you taught him (including the swears) were similar to words in tagalog.

you also wanted to learn a lot more about him, his family, and his roots--so you two kind of exchanged cultures to better understand each other <:)

[fearlessword]

I’ll meet you in my dreams - Chapter 1

Summary: You dreamed of the boy who played piano before you knew who he was. Humming the melodies you heard in your sleep brought BTS into your life and you thought it was just meant to be.When you finally have the chance to see him perform live, you realize that the dreams you have are more than a coincidence. You hope he dreams of you too.

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Wake up. Teach. Eat. Plan. Overthink. Cry. Sleep.

Repeat.

You didn’t know how your life turned out to be like this. You hated it. You hated the city streets were empty. You hated that the principal kept watching each lesson just to criticize your teaching.You hated teaching online and how burned out you were because of it. You hated not being able to see your friends, or what’s left of them. You hated that fucking virus that postponed all of your plans. You hated how much you missed your cheating ex and that traitor you once called best friend.

Everything sucks in 2020.

At first, it seemed like it was just for a while, which also meant a good break before the craziness that came with Spring and the end of the school year. Two months after the government announced the quarantine, you were burned out, rethinking life choices, crying yourself to sleep because of a break up you thought you had moved on from. Your roommate and coworker Camila was the only good thing. She became a nice friend who could relate to you. Both of you were just two tired teachers trying to survive in New York City during a pandemic. The growing friendship you had made it bearable. When nights were especially hard for you and you’d sob and cry at 3 am, your friend wouldn’t say a thing, only to greet you with open arms, a mug of hot coffee, and a silent promise of ice cream and movies after dinner. You didn’t deserve it, considering you were the reason she’d wake up in the middle of the night, but she didn’t hold it against you, and you were grateful for that.

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew you shouldn’t be crying for a relationship that finished two years ago. It was hard not to, especially now that there wasn’t much, besides work, to keep you busy. It was the last week of May, Summer was just around the corner and you yearned for the joy the season brings. At the same time, shaking off the feelings that came with the isolation was not an easy feat. He cheated on you with your best friend, after all! You tell yourself he doesn’t deserve your tears, but it takes time to erase things like that.

You are lonely and confused, angry to feel the way you felt. Grieving the youth you’re giving away while staying at home. So, on that night of May, you did what you should’ve done 2 years ago. You got your blue journal, a pencil, bursted your earbuds with the saddest songs you could find, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you wrote.

The words spilled from your mind to the paper, a letter addressed to the one who made you feel like this. How you met, how you became friends, the moment you realized you loved him. The memories you wanted to erase flowing so easily through your hands. The story was kept in your head for so long, suffocating you a little bit every day, it was like you could exhale for the first time. How you missed this!

You were so focused on revisiting all of the moments to write, that you didn’t check the time. It was late, so late. And you needed to sleep now if you wanted to have energy for the long day of teaching you had ahead of you.

You checked the amount of words you’ve written. Seven pages. It was still just the beginning. Your eyes were red and wet and you got yourself a headache. As cathartic as it was to write like this, it had left you with zero to no energy to keep going. As you were embraced by your sleep, you wished the part of your brain that processed traumatic experiences just did its job.

That night, you dream of a man and a piano.

Not exactly a piano, it was more like a keyboard.

All you could see was that he was making music.

The room was compact, so much it didn’t look like a room. “Maybe he’s camping”, you thought. There was a bunk bed and a tiny table underneath it, which was where he was working with a yellow notepad and pencil positioned close to the laptop. His pale skin was in contrast with the black straight hair covering part of his face. Still, you were able to see some of his facial expressions. He was so concentrated in his craft, long fingers testing notes in the mini keyboard connected to his laptop.

You wish you could listen to the melody he is so focused on, he was clearly showing signs of conflict, while listening to it on his headphones. He throws his head back and breathes loudly, like he needs a break, the hair moves out of his face and you can see his eyes now. Deep, dark, catlike eyes.

Oh God. He 's beautiful.

You could feel a pull, an inexplicable warmth inside of you… You were curious about him. You were curious about the circumstances. Why were you consciously dreaming about a man you have never seen in your life? Why aren’t you in this dream? How could he fascinate you so much in minutes?

A door opens and there’s light in the room. You hear a voice speaking a language you don’t understand. You hear a deep voice, his voice, replying in the same language. Then, everything goes black.

You were pulled out of the dream, eyes open, back in your room, but with remains of the comforting warmth inside of you.

It stayed with you the whole day, just like the memory of the boy making music.

That night, the crying is not that loud, your writing process still hard, but not unbearable.

You were still tired, still heartbroken. The routine was the same.

But there was that warm feeling in your chest. And as your head touches the pillow in the middle of the night, you hope to dream of him again.

>>> Next Chapter

[manari-archives]

skinny dipping | DR3

pairing: daniel ricciardo x Reader

warnings: arguments

word count: 1.4k

note: this is one of my favorite songs on the album. again this isn't based on the entire song, just a couple of lines mentioned. also english isn't my first language so any corrections feel free to let me know and any feedback is welcome :)

masterlist

The cosy coffee shop hummed with gentle clicks of porcelain cups and the soft murmur of conversation. You sat at a corner table, engrossed by your phone, completely oblivious to the world around you. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, offering a comforting embrace in the bustling ambience.

Lost in your thought, Amidst the chaos of conversation and coffee machines, a barista’s voice broke through the noise, calling out an order. “oat milk latte for Daniel” he called out, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

instinctively, you glanced up from your phone, your eyes scanning the café in search of the source of your childhood memories. Surely it couldn’t be him. the chances are too slim, too improbable. Yet there he was in all his glory-Daniel Ricciardo, the man who once held your heart.

Your eyes locked, a mixture of surprise, nostalgia and something deeper flickered across his face. He approached you, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “hi” he said, his voice warm and filled with vulnerability.

You returned his greeting, your heart fluttering with a mix of emotions. “hi, how are you?” you replied, your voice wavered with a hint of nerves.

A wave of relief washed over you as Daniel mirrored your smile. “I’m good,” he said. “how’s your family? how’s your sister?” he asked his words carrying the weight of shared memories and genuine care.

His questions caught you off guard, the fact that he still remembered details of your life after all these years sent a jolt through your heart. “ they’re doing well,” you replied. “my sister is married now, she expecting her first child.”

Daniel’s eyes lit up with excitement. “that’s wonderful to hear!” he said. “please send her my regards”

For a few moments, you engaged in nonsensical chatter, catching up on superficial aspects of your lives. But beneath the surface, the unspoken questions lingered. It was as if time had rewound, and you were transported back to the days of your youth when your love bloomed amid the echoes of engines and the scent of gasoline.

As the café grew quieter, Daniel leaned forward, his gaze steady and sincere. “well, this was really nice” he confessed, a spark of vulnerability lighting up his eyes. “maybe we should do this on purpose sometimes”

A mixture of hope and apprehension swirled within you. The mere suggestion of intentionally meeting again ignited a fire within your heart, rekindling memories that once were long buried. Was it possible to reconcile the love you once had with the realities of your lives now?

He noticed your hesitation, a subtle understanding passing between you. with a tender smile, he took a leap of faith. “remember that restaurant we used to go to?” he asked.

A wave of nostalgia crashed over you, threatening to pull you under its bittersweet tide. You look into his eyes, your voice barely above a whisper. “ won’t that be too nostalgic?” you asked with a hint of apprehension.

Daniel’s gaze never wavered, his determination shining through. “maybe,” he conceded, “buts let’s do it anyway. we won’t sit at our old table I promise.”

It was as if the floodgates of emotion you buried years ago had just burst open. A myriad of thoughts surges through you-fear, longing, and a tiny glimmer of hope. You exchanged glances, and in that unspoken understanding, you both knew that revisiting the past was an opportunity to confront the ghosts that still lingered between you.

Days later, you found yourselves outside the familiar restaurant. Its warm glow spilt out the sidewalk. with a deep breath, you stepped inside, the scent of nostalgia hanging in the air.

The ambience has changed, yet traces of your memories still clung to the walls. You were led to a table far removed from the one that had once witnessed your whispers of affection and youthful dreams. It was a symbolic gesture, a promise to forge new memories while acknowledging the ghosts of the past.

As you settled into your seats, a silence settled between you-a poignant reminder of the words left unspoken. Amid the nostalgic atmosphere, conversation flowed freely, carrying us through a labyrinth of emotions. You spoke of your journeys, the triumphs and the hardships that had shaped you into the people you had become.

With each passing moment, it became evident how much the two of you had changed. Daniel had evolved into a renowned f1 driver and you had found your path, carving out a life separate from the racing world that had once consumed the both of you.

Yet beneath the surface, you were still the scared little kids who had arguments in his garage, that stemmed from the demands of Daniel’s growing career, which consumed more and more of his time. arguments became frequent and the once unbreakable bond between you was strained under the weight of unspoken frustrations.

there were nights filled with tear-stained pillows and whispered doubts. you questioned whether you could keep up with the demands of his world, whether you could handle the constant separation and the unrelenting spotlight.

the arguments often revolved around the sacrifices you had made for each other, the compromises that weighed heavily on your hearts. you resented the fact that your dreams had taken a backseat, and you struggled to find your path amidst the shadows cast by Daniel’s success.

the final argument, the one that shattered the fragile threads of your relationship, echoed through the garage. words were exchanged, wounds inflicted and in that moment of frustration, Daniel made a choice-a choice that tore you apart. With a heavy heart and a determination that mirrored the unwavering focus he displayed on the racetrack, he chose his career, leaving behind the shattered remnants of your once unbreakable bond.

Between bites and sips, you danced around the ghosts of your past, tiptoeing on the delicate thread that connected you. Each word carried weight, each silence punctuated by the weight of unspoken truths. And yet, you forged ahead, daring to confront the past head-on, determined to find closure.

Amidst the nostalgic ambience of the restaurant, you spoke of the arguments—the fiery clashes fuelled by our unwavering passion and the fear that had consumed you both. You acknowledged the pain and the hurt, but also the love that had once bound you together.

As the evening progressed, the restaurant's ambience buzzed with the laughter and conversations of other patrons. But in the midst of it all, Daniel and you sat in a bubble of shared history and unspoken truths. you exchanged glances, and in those stolen moments, you saw the reflections of two individuals who had dared to chase their dreams, defying the odds stacked against them.

As the night began to wane, and the dessert arrived at your table, you reached an unspoken conclusion. The restaurant served as a time capsule, transporting you back to a bygone era. It was a poignant reminder of the transformative power of time and the journeys you had embarked upon.

With a final toast, we bid the restaurant farewell, stepping out into the cool night air. We stood on the sidewalk, our gazes fixed on the twinkling stars above, and I knew the time had come to part ways once again.

We embraced, a mixture of sadness, longing, and a touch of resignation. "Until next time," I whispered, my voice filled with a promise to cherish the memories we had created together.

Daniel returned the embrace, his voice filled with warmth. "Until next time," he echoed, a subtle smile played on Daniel's lips. "You know," he said, his voice filled with a mix of nostalgia and hope, "it would be nice to do this again sometime."

You met his gaze, a flicker of anticipation dancing in your eyes. "Yes," you replied, your voice carrying a quiet conviction, "it would be.”

With that simple exchange, we acknowledged the possibility of a future that held the potential for rekindling what was once lost. The unspoken promise hung in the air, a gentle invitation to explore the depths of your connection once more. And just like that, you went your separate ways, carried by the winds of destiny.

But this time, the door remained open, inviting you to explore the potential of what could be a second chance at love, guided by the memories of our past and the hope for a future where your lives might intertwine once again.

[the-s1lly-corner]

I very much loved what you wrote for my ask makes me happy in my tummy.

Here's another ask hope it's not a lot for you how about a reader who's looks like those circus carousel horses, Being all pretty and sparkly with the TADC crew or just caine if you want light work!

♡Sleep well♡

U(•ㅅ•)U

TADC cast x reader who is a carousel horse!

that post sillyness (meltdown) slump is really hitting, but i feel bad for not answering requests yesterday... think i might answer one or two today, and perhaps write some stuff for myself in between doing the stuff i need to get done today apolocheese if this is a little shorter than usual </3 admin is still a lil WAAAAAAA and theyre on a time crunch (writing on computer today, but it needs to restart soon for an update)

CAINE:

oh i just know hes going to be going crazy over this, its not often that you get circus themed members around in the digital circus, so hes so hyped to have someone who can at least somewhat fit into that (admin must admit, they know next to nothing about carousels). probably makes themed IHA based around you and your whole thing; whatever that might mean... if youre shiny and/or reflective i just know hes going to pretend to check himself out in your reflections, does it usually to get a laugh out of you if youre having a bad day. gives you loads of new accessories and such

POMNI:

very shiny very pretty. i think pomni would like shiny things, but that might be self projection. kind of looks at you with that huge eyed look she got when she saw her door and/or her reflection in the pilot. looks but doesnt touch because she doesnt want to breach any boundaries. you can easily carry her, probably. shes tiny... though you will have to ask her and warn her before you just decide to pick her up since i dont think she would be cool with you just treating her like some house cat (snorts). subconsciously messes with your hair/mane when you two are hugging/snuggling each other

RAGATHA:

makes her own accessories to give to you. she thinks youre really pretty! very well crafted stuff, me thinks. offers to do your hair and tail (if you have one) every now and then! perhaps even offers to polish you up in hard to reach spots such as your back! generally very nice and lets you know that she thinks youre pretty... bonus if you have some sort of music ambience that plays around you most of the time that tends to reflect your mood, she ends up using that as a little indicator of how youre feeling.... perhaps you two slow dance together to one of your songs.... ponders

JAX:

originally i was going to say he jokes about wanting to ride you but then i realized how that sounded and i am not about that life (i say as i still put it in the post because it aint that serious) but you know, because youre a horse? but also while i was writing caines part, i mention that he checks his reflection if youre... well reflective... i feel like jax would do the same thing, but be more obnoxious about it... like im talking hes fully leaning into it, cleaning the gaps in between his teeth, slicking his ears back. the works, you know? probably snags your ribbons and such every now and then so youre forced to talk to him, he thinks its funny even if its kind of a dick move, but its.. jax, are we really surprised?

KINGER:

similar to pomni i can kind of see kinger also liking shiny stuff but i think this time its just the admin self projecting. probably collects little trinkets he finds that remind him of you and gifts them to you. pretty combs, ribbons, rocks, ect. i think its sweet, basically saying "hey, i thought about you!" you know? sometimes you let him stroke your hair when hes stressed out, works like a charm. revisiting the musical ambience idea, you tend to play the general music that plays during carousel rides, but every now and then it turns into a softer and calmer tune, and that does wonders for kinger after a long and hard day... shrugs

ZOOBLE:

as mean as it sounds you are kind of the opposite of the things like find interest in, since admin hcs that zooble is into the macabre and spooky, you know? but thats not to say that they dont like you! quite the contrary, actually! they have an understanding that you didnt choose this body.. thinks... ooo imagine how funny it would be if youre this really pretty horse with pretty music but you share the same interests as them... i dont now i always liked that trope. cute/innocent character being into scary stuff, intimidating/unconventionally cute character being into sweet and cute stuff.. thinks... sometimes helps you style yourself if youre interested in a new look

GANGLE:

also thinks youre very pretty! probably has made drawings of you and gifted them to you! sometimes redoes the ribbons you wear in your hair and as accessories. very good at making bows and such! might even sometimes help you with your makeup, if you wear any + if its able to be taken off... since, you know... digital bodies and stuff... hmm.. not many thoughts for gangle, at least not any unique ones that havent been said already in general/in this post... apologies gangle nation admin just struggles to write her

[autopotion]

Something I noticed about this scene during my current replay: The song playing here isn't Alma's theme (which played in the scene immediately prior to the fight with Zalmo), it's the first half of Ovelia's theme (the allegro section in F sharp). We don't learn that the Virgo stone arrived at Orbonne with Ovelia until a little bit later, so the song choice is a nice bit of foreshadowing for how Alma would even know this, i.e. through their friendship.

But now I also like to read this scene in parallel to the one where Ovelia laments her role as a princess.

Ovelia's theme plays in that one as well—specifically the andante second half in B flat. B flat major is an open and bright key, but also a contemplative one; that particular arrangement of Ovelia's theme, with its slower tempo and low woodwind carrying the melody, accentuates the latter trait. Ovelia misses the only friend she's ever had, and one of the rare few that she could be certain had pure intentions towards her. Her nostalgic reminiscence of Alma is tinged with longing for the past and anxiety for the future.

In this scene, on the other hand, where Alma reveals to Ramza that she's seen Virgo at Orbonne, Ovelia's theme in F sharp major is at its brightest and most optimistic. (In classical music, F sharp major is also considered a "triumphant" key.) The music selection is a good choice in general, because it characterizes Alma well—she's humorously teasing her much more solemn brother; she's manipulating the situation so she can stop feeling useless and actually do something, and her gambit works; the higher woodwind brings to mind Alma's chirping flute from her own theme—but when you consider to whom this theme belongs, it implies that Alma isn't just conveying a fact she knows. She's actively reminiscing about Ovelia.

The use of this half of the theme suggests to me that Alma's memories of their friendship are, on their surface, more straightforwardly affectionate. I think that's partially because Alma seems to take more things in stride than Ovelia does, but also, Ovelia isn't Alma's only friend. Tietra's friendship casts a much larger shadow over Alma. For obvious reasons, sure, but as to the framing, the immediate preceding scene had Alma inquire about Tietra by name, and express fresh dismay upon learning that she did not make the same miraculous recovery Delita did, and the music used in that scene was Alma's theme, placing Tietra much closer to Alma's heart (notably, the last scene Alma's theme was used was during Tietra's introduction, at Alma's side). Alma's friendship with Ovelia must seem so uncomplicated compared to what came after, it's almost a relief to get away from all this and revisit the monastery where she grew up.

You could also say, given the arrangement's faster tempo and the surrounding story context, that thoughts of Ovelia are what drive Alma into action. Ramza and Delita have both compared Ovelia to Tietra; it's not a stretch to consider that Alma might be doing the same.

However... as Ovelia is the loneliest character in the game, I don't think you can use her theme, even the lightest part of it, without invoking loneliness. At this point in the story, Alma has been dragged to Lesalia by her brothers, the ones she's not particularly close to, while they wage a war against her childhood friend. That would feel incredibly alienating, I think.

There are so few relationships between women in FFT, and while Alma is central to most of them, she never gets a moment to talk about a really important one. Alma's the invisible connective tissue between Ovelia and Ramza, and Ovelia and Tietra. It's nice to get these little musical hints to remind us of Alma and Ovelia's importance to each other—and also of Alma's thoughts and feelings, elaborations on which are frustratingly few.

[veikkoalen]

this house of dreams rummaging

hanged man. fictional casey's second death pose from alan/scratch hands looks like tarot card the hanged man

2. actual ending of the first zane poem that he recites is edited

3. second zane poem that he recites is just the ending. its first part is about mirrors

4. i suspect zane was revisiting his older poems.

a nice question to ask – when they were written. as hartman was helping zane the poet with writing after barbara's death. well, at least this one was written before she died

5. e is emil hartman, ofc. also, underlined words are the part of 'balance slays the demon' song

6. second part is the poem from the beginning of aw1 that alan was supposed to understand, according to zane. also, 'beyond the lake he called home lies a deeper darker ocean green' is the part of 'balance slays the demon' song as well

7. loki darkens disappeared after the 'follow me underground' album in 1972

pt 2 in the notes - reblogs

[seaofreverie]

Sparkstember Day 6: Big Beat (Big Boy)

Wooohoooo, Big Beat! Our favourite little "questionable lyrics" album. Anyway, this one's lots of fun. Full of unrefutable bangers and hard rocking that's not like anything else that Sparks have done for the most part (and it's still very Sparks despite that). But yeah, this is a very strange era for them that I find pretty charming actually, and I think that for the full Big Beat experience one must watch the Capitol Theatre concert from this era (funnily, my favourite bit of it isn't even a song from this album... it's Equator, and, well, this is the exact type of theatricality that I'm a really big fan of, haha)

While I undoubtedly DO like this album, there must also be a reason I don't revisit it all that often. And I think, well, is it just just me or are lots of songs here just kind of... way too simple? Musically speaking (too), and while I'm pretty easy to please when it comes to this type of music that's much more on the rock than pop side of things, and my first impression here was very positive, well, afterwards... I either forgot about it altogether or often had a feeling of "can we move on now" when songs from this album came on shuffle and such. Even listening to this album today I had lots of those moments, like it's not that I don't like these songs... I guess they're just less engaging than I'm used to from Sparks (cause I don't want to call them boring, I think it's a bit of a different thing...).

Also interesting, because despite all this, the 21×21 Big Beat concert is actually a pretty big fav of mine. So I guess my thesis for today is that it's the type of album that works better live maybe!

Favourite songs (and other highlights):

Big Boy: just a good opener and fun song all around, and here's a fun fact about it: about a half of this song's length is just its title being said. Which means that the song Big Boy consists of 50% pure Big Boy

I Want To Be Like Everybody Else: sadly, a bit of a victim of Spotify Shuffle really wanting me to listen to it over and over and it getting a bit old fast

I Bought The Mississippi River: my fav here by far and also the most interesting and memorable, I really like the call & response part, and the guitar solos, the whole atmosphere is great, reminds me a little bit of High C even now that I think about it... Not sure though, I JUST thought about this

Confusion: one of the only songs here that I could see as part of some other album from around this time without it sticking out too much. Makes sense if we keep its origins in mind...

Screwed Up: it's fun to imagine sometimes that the 60s just happened

I Like Girls: COME ON, GIIIIIIRLS!!!

Tearing The Place Apart + Looks Aren't Everything: I love all the bonus tracks here but these two especially are a nice (and unexpected) return to the Indiscreet style which I really love

[scorchieart]

Of Conflict and Compromise | AO3

Characters: Leon Dompteur, Chevalier Michel

Genre: Angst, Comfort

Summary: Sometimes, the best way to solve a dispute is to have that dispute first. Leon and Chevalier, while excellent leaders, can't always see the other side unless it's shoved right in front of their faces.

Word Count: 2.1k

Prompt: Birds chirping.

A/N: Here's my entry for @aquagirl1978 and @violettduchess's Spring Showers, Spring Flowers CCC. Thank you both for setting this up! This was originally a story I'd abandoned months ago, but it's nice to revisit these two, even if they are hard-headed.

Content Warnings: References to death, implied Leon route spoilers.

It wasn’t the headache that woke him before dawn. Nor was it his sagging shoulders or the chill of early spring that crept through the tiniest gaps in the window frame. Tossing and turning in the massive multi-blanketed bed, Leon scarcely got any sleep between memories of the previous night and his own intrusive thoughts, and before he knew it, serenades of the morning’s first birds rid him of any hope to rest. Groggy and sore, he disentangled himself from the contorted covers, splashed his face in the wash basin, slipped into yesterday’s outfit, and left his bedroom.

Other than the outside chirps that accompanied him, Leon met no living soul on his descent. He drummed his fingers on the hilt of his sword when he reached the base of the steps, wondering how best to kill time until the kingdom awoke. He considered heading to the training grounds for some drills, but as far as Leon was concerned, working out wasn’t as fulfilling when you didn’t have a second. He could pop into the kitchen for an early breakfast, but immediately shut the idea down. It was never worth filling yourself when an Yves menu was slated for lunch. 

Flocks of birds coupled their songs into duets and choruses almost in mockery of Leon’s solitude, and he stalked deeper into the castle to distance himself from them. As the squawks and cheeps faded behind him, he reluctantly resigned to leave early to town for his mission, when new sounds caught his attention. Scratchy-scrawly and flippy-wispy ones. Down the corridor to his right, in the direction of the foreign affairs faction headquarters.

Leon’s first thought was that Clavis was hacking away at some new contraption, undoubtedly for the purpose of some nefarious wakeup call. Concerned for the palace-goers, and marginally curious himself, he silently trekked toward the office, stopping just before the ornate white door. The sounds persisted, uniform and deliberate in their execution, and Leon pressed his ear to the wood in an attempt to decipher their purpose, only to flinch when the perpetrator sharply called from within.

“Enter, Black.”

Leon mentally kicked himself for not recognizing the uninterrupted pattern of quill on paper and pushed open the door. Chevalier did not welcome his brother as he entered, but sat head hung low over his desk, his only movements the lightning-fast scratching of his right hand and the occasional swapping of parchment with his left from two mountains of sheets flanking either side of him.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Leon awkwardly asked Chevalier’s scalp. Accepting the expected silent response, he took in the rare sight of Chevalier working at dawn, the morning rays spilling in from the high windows surrounding him doing little to bring life to his pallid features. The office itself was colorless, pristine, and smelled almost medicinal in its tidiness. Leon hated the smell and the memories it brought up and always avoided the room whenever he could. He crossed to one of the windows, and, after a bit of effort, wrenched it open, gulping in the fresh air like a stream.

“Shut it,” said Chevalier.

“It’s too stuffy in here. Plus, you could use some sun,” Leon said absently, staring out at the blueing sky. A robin soared toward him and perched itself on the windowsill. It chirped and hopped back and forth in the same spot, as though debating whether it should enter. Leon dug into his pants pocket and produced a handful of crushed crackers, which at this point was more crumb than cracker. Grimacing at the resurfacing memory, he spilled the lot in front of the bird and watched it eat.

“I only allow one interloper at a time,” said Chevalier. “And only if they clean up after themselves.”

Leon stuck his arms out and patted his hands free of the crumbs. Then he drew the window down, leaving a tiny sliver the bird could not fit into.

“How’s that?” he asked. In that moment, a strong gust blew outside and through the crack, blasting both the cracker crumbs and the documents on the desk in all directions. Paper and bread swirled around the room before gently floating down as the wind died, and in between the flurry Leon could make out the bird tapping its beak impatiently on the glass and Chevalier slowly rising from his seat. 

The two princes picked up the fallen documents, Leon careful to separate them into piles of “signed” and “unsigned”, without exchanging any words. It was only after Chevalier reseated himself and resumed his work that Leon felt the urge to break the tension.

“Compromises never do work between us, do they?”

“You can’t propose compromise in someone else’s office, you dolt,” said Chevalier.

“Oh yeah? And who’s the dolt who let me in in the first place?”

“Only because it was more distracting not knowing what you were doing behind a door.”

“Hey, my hands are metaphorically clean!” Leon slinked back to the window and brushed residue crumbs through the tiny opening. The bird gave a shrill screech and resumed eating. Chevalier winced, and it was then that Leon noticed the sizable dark circles sagging beneath his eyes.

“Birds kept you up then, huh?” said Leon.

“Must they be so boisterous in the morning?” said Chevalier.

“Come on, Chevalier, they’re birds! Morningsong is in their nature! Are you really going to punish a bird’s natural impulse to want to—”

“I know why they are singing,” interrupted Chevalier.

“I was going to say they’re welcoming in the spring season. Why do you think they’re singing?”

Chevalier grabbed another document and violently slammed it on the desk. 

“Whoa, you must be really tired if you’re this cranky just talking to me,” said Leon.

“And you must be really lonely if you’ve come to me to sing to,” said Chevalier.

Leon frowned and stared out the window. The bird ruffled its feathers in the slight breeze, and Leon wished he could trade places with it.

“I can leave whenever I want,” said Leon.

“And yet, you are glued to my window,” said Chevalier.

“It’s bad manners to leave the table before the guest finishes his meal. Of course, that’s something you never cared for.”

“Useless drivel of dullards. Like dancing and socializing and—”

“Sleeping on time?”

“Sleeping with negligence.”

Images flashed in Leon’s mind. Moles positioned at windows and balconies. Spies leaping between bedroom shadows. Assassins blending in with the night. 

“Clavis will throw a fit when he finds you’re not in your room,” said Leon.

“He will find another victim to sing to,” said Chevalier.

“We’re really stretching the definition of ‘sing’ today, aren’t we?”

“None of which the showoff will be too fond of.”

“His name is Yves.”

“Does that change the fact that he is vulnerable?”

“It changes whether you care about it.”

Chevalier straightened his back and stretched his arms. For a moment, Leon thought he might actually go to warn Yves, until Chevalier pulled out a book from a desk drawer and began to read like their conversation never happened.

“You know what will happen, but you won’t do anything to stop it?” asked Leon.

“I have identified the assailant and victim,” said Chevalier. “Whether you define this as caring or not has no weight on my decision to involve myself further.”

Leon’s fingers clenched on the windowsill like jaws. “You’re a coward, Chevalier. A shameless, plain, unapologetic coward for all the world to see.” The wood splintered beneath his thumbs, making the bird jump and resume its peevish chirping.

“I keep my closet free of skeletons,” Chevalier said calmly.

“Yes, because you’re so much better at digging graves.”

“I can bury them without hiding the shovel.” Chevalier snapped the book shut and stomped over to Leon. The bird silenced immediately and flew away. “Running away? That is the true definition of cowardice.”

Leon’s eyes focused on the bird’s escape, desperate bitterness building in his chest. “What are you implying?”

“I know your secret, fourth prince,” whispered Chevalier. Like a flame, Leon’s anger snuffed out. A prickly stiffness replaced the tautness in his arms, and his blood curdled like ice. Through the glass he could see Chevalier’s frigid expression trained directly on him, trapping him. Like a bird in a cage.

Leon licked his dried lips and cleared his throat. “Which one?” he said jokingly.

Chevalier lifted his eyebrow but maintained his composure. “You couldn’t save him,” he said, pointing at the scattered cracker remains that lined the now-cracked windowsill. Leon shut his eyes and exhaled deeply through his nose. If he had the choice, he’d prefer that Chevalier found out about this secret.

“Were you at the tavern last night?” he asked.

“I had my eyes there for a while,” said Chevalier. “What did you do with the body?”

“Took him home. His family should decide what to do with him.” Leon turned around and leaned against the window, his eyes still closed. “It was his wife who told me. Said he’d fallen in with a bad gang recently and owed a lot of money. He spent all his time working and stopped coming home for lunch and dinner. When he wasn’t working, he was at the tavern with those goons running him dry, like he couldn’t leave. You know she’d find him dangling off a table in the morning with a mug in hand? If I could just — if I could just get something in his stomach…”

“It is ridiculous to blame yourself for his end,” interrupted Chevalier. 

“He needed someone. A friend to pull him out and help him and his family.”

“What he needed was someone to stop that gang. A prince to eliminate threats to and deliver justice.”

“If I went after the gang,” Leon said, opening his eyes and scowling, “who would go after him?”

“Your duty is to the greater good of the kingdom. You cannot hope to save everyone every time,” said Chevalier. “And this time, you failed everyone.”

“Just because you’ve given up doesn’t mean I have,” growled Leon. He pushed off from the window and marched towards the door.

“Where are you going?” asked Chevalier, his voice condescending. 

“First, I’m going to Yves’s room before Clavis does. You know, something a good brother would do.” He tossed a mocking glare over his shoulder. “Then I’m heading into town to check on the family. Something a good prince would do. I’d offer for you to join, but of course I can’t propose compromise in someone else’s office.”

Leon grabbed the gilded knob, fully prepared to rip the door off his hinges, when Chevalier let out an all-to-familiar sigh.

“Of course you can’t, you imbecile. No one but myself calls the shots in my office, and I have already decided my course of action.” Chevalier was at his desk again, digging through the pile of signed documents. He pulled out a thick sheaf and offered it. “As soon as Clavis is finished playing, we shall depart.”

Curiosity won Leon over again and he found himself returning to Chevalier’s side. The stack of papers was hefty, and the ink so pungent Leon deduced it could barely have been hours since it was written. He scanned the first page of what appeared to be a warrant for the arrest and prosecution of the gang. Flipping through the rest showed detailed records of their involvement in criminal activity across various locations in both Rhodolite and Benitoite, listing dozens of names of victims and their families. Leon ran his splintered fingers over the man and his family’s names at the bottom of the last page, careful not to smear the letters, and finally over Chevalier’s elegant signature just below.

“All these names,” began Leon, “what took you so long to act?”

“They never stay long once a client ‘ceases to be profitable,’” Chevalier explained grimly. “They take whatever remains on the person and disappear until their next crime. That is, except this time someone moved the body.”

The flame reignited in Leon’s core like an inferno. He grabbed the quill off the desk and hurriedly scribbled his name beside Chevalier’s. “I’ll kick Clavis out and meet you in town in twenty minutes,” he said, charging back to the door. “Breakfast is on me!”

“Don’t break my door, I have not forgotten about the window,” called Chevalier as Leon bolted out with a thumbs up. Chevalier straightened the sheets, picked up his book, and followed Leon out the door, albeit at a much more relaxed pace. Behind him, the robin had returned to the crooked windowsill with a friend, and the two happily sang and munched on the crumbs as the sky brightened over the new day.

I say this all the time about Leon, but he needs to hang out with his bros more.

Tagging:@atelier-the-atelier @queengiuliettafirstlady @violettduchess @venulus @thewitchofbooks @leonscape @rhodolitesrose @venti-tangents @dear-sciaphilia @ikesenwritings @myonlyjknight @ladyofcrowsx

If you would like to be added or removed from my tag list, please send me an ask or a message.