feeder86 · 1 day ago
Text
The Curse of Deansgate
An understudy for Chris Peterson? Most of Ned’s friends could not believe it. Nor could Ned, to be fair. The fact that Chris was even doing Broadway was almost just as unbelievable. Hollywood superstars, like him, rarely gave up the time for a twelve-week stint in a production like ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’. It was going to be, without a doubt, the hottest ticket in town.
Ned watched through some of Chris’ old movies before rehearsals began. He devoured them all: the romantic comedies, the science fiction classics, as well as the action hero thrillers where Chris’ shirt was pleasingly absent for multiple scenes. Ned swooned, still feeling unable to comprehend his good luck. He’d done the Broadway circuit for a few years now and was slowly building a name for himself. A major role in his last show had earned him the attention he craved within the industry, despite the show actually selling rather poorly. But Ned simply loved the theatre and couldn’t wait to see Chris in action on stage. He imagined that the guy would feel quite nervous performing to a large crowd every night, especially after exclusively working on movies for so many years. And, as his understudy, Ned would be sure to support him. He fantasised about them becoming best friends and forging a bond like no other. He felt the bubbling excitement in his stomach as the days ticked down, getting closer and closer to the beginning.
The media coverage was already everywhere, even before the two week rehearsal period. ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’ was a rarely performed production due to the superstition surrounding its commercial failures in the past. Written in the early twentieth century, ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’ had apparently never once completed a full run in any theatre; although Ned doubted that to be completely true. Like all superstitions, it made Ned laugh to think that the play would make the usually level-headed investors go weak at the knees; much like all the actors he had met over the years, too superstitious to utter the words ‘Macbeth’ on stage. But a ‘cursed’ play certainly made for an awful lot of clickbait; cleverly helping to fuel the audience’s anticipation, as well as the advanced ticket sales.
However, there was also another reason why the play was being discussed so much; one that Ned felt a little more nervous about. The director would be the incredibly talented Gordon Harrison; an absolute master; especially here on Broadway, crafting incredible productions over a career that spanned decades. He had once played the lead in ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’ back when he was in his twenties, and was resurrecting it now, perhaps as a form of nostalgia for himself. However, if anyone was to meet Gordon, it might not have been his ingenious directing creativity that they first noticed. Gordon was known to be one of the largest men working in the industry; a ginormous gut and wide butt, weighing in at a waddling five hundred pounds or more. 
Ned was sure that many people had probably made fun of Gordon’s weight over the years, but none so publicly as Chris Peterson. It had apparently happened early on in Chris’ career, when he was still making a name for himself, playing a small role in one of Gordon’s rare movie productions. When asked what he thought of the renowned director, a young, pretty-boy Chris had been less than complimentary, remarking to a journalist about how grotesquely greedy and lazy the fat director was on set; rarely getting out of his reinforced chair to offer notes to the hardworking performers and crew surrounding him; also referring to him as just another ‘failed actor’ who had shifted to directing once his first career ended. They were throwaway comments, but even Ned remembered the media storm that inevitably came from it. 
Perhaps not for the right reasons, Chris Peterson undoubtedly became better known afterwards. He’d been remembered and picked for bad boy roles where a little edge to the character’s personality was definitely a requirement. From there, he’d only gone from strength to strength, after his management eventually taught him to hold his tongue a little more when it came to badmouthing people he had worked with. Now, the director’s offer of the lead role in this play had been widely seen as an olive branch to the handsome actor, as a way to leave the past behind them; one that had been graciously accepted by Chris’ management team who convinced him to sign up straight away. And so, for the first time ever, the money was pouring in from investors, hoping to get a slice of success as ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’ was about to be performed to the public for the first time in thirty years.
Some men just had that aura about them. It was the thing Ned most remembered about Chris Peterson, the first time he strolled into the theatre. Like any Hollywood hunk, he was painfully handsome, not to mention stylish. But Chris was also incredibly tall and muscular, giving the perception that he could have turned his hand to any sport at all, had the acting career not worked out so well for him. Ned remembered how aroused he was, sitting in the wings, watching the final act, when Chris rehearsed the penultimate scene, completely shirtless: the broad back, the stunning chest, the insane six pack. Not that Ned was a stranger to the gym himself, it was pretty much given in his line of work, but there was just something so awe-inspiring about the physique of a true Hollywood leading man.
Unlike any other production Ned had ever been involved in, there were journalists waiting outside from day one of rehearsals. Gordon had made it clear that no one was to talk to them or pose for pictures, but that didn’t stop them shouting for attention each time the cast walked out. Usually they wanted to know about Chris, or about how Gordon was doing, working with a guy who had so badly insulted him almost ten years ago. If Ned had been allowed to answer them, he could have told them that, in fact, everything was absolutely fine. Ever the professional, a now twenty-seven year old Chris took to the theatre work with ease, and Gordon didn’t seem in the least bit resentful towards him at all. Perhaps that was the point. The reality was so fundamentally boring, keeping the air of mystery kept the media writing about the play and building that appetite for it.
As for Ned’s dreams of becoming best friends with Chris Peterson, well, that had always been unlikely. Although the man had learned all their names and was friendly enough, Chris kept himself to himself during break times and retained that Holwood mystique with the rest of the cast; continuing to be one of the only people Ned knew who could get away with wearing sunglasses indoors and still look sexy. But, in regards to being an understudy for him, Gordon had told Ned straight out that it was never going to happen. People were coming to this production to see Chris and that was exactly what they would get. It was the investors who had insisted on there being an understudy, just in case, but Ned was never going to actually get the chance to perform to an audience. He would simply stick to his significantly smaller role, dying before the end of the first act each and every night.
“Break a leg!” Ned smiled at Chris as the curtain was about to go up on their first night. He still got butterflies each time he had the opportunity to talk to the guy, even after the long rehearsals.
Chris smiled back, seeming as cool as could be; as if none of this phased him in the slightest. Then, with a final intake of breath, he stepped onto the stage, in front of a cheering crowd, surreptitiously dotted with some of New York’s harshest critics.
There was the strangest of feelings in the theatre that night; like an unheard frequency that was somehow ringing in the ears. Chris’ performance was powerful and moving; rising above anything they had witnessed in the rehearsals. Ned could already see the awards and accolades the Hollywood star was about to amass. The final act was a marvel, and Ned saw their large, oversized director sitting in an extra large chair on the front row, smiling with pride the entire time. When the final curtain fell, the audience rose to their feet, but Gordon remained seated. He looked pleased with himself, like he had just accomplished something he had been working towards for many, many years.
At the afterparty that evening, the excitement was electric. Everybody knew that the show was a hit; perhaps the biggest success they would ever be involved in; the pinnacle of their careers. Their director stood, having graciously acknowledged everyone in the cast and crew for all they had done, only leaving one final man to congratulate. He called Chris to stand beside him and slipped his big, heavy arm over the hunk’s broad shoulders.
“You’ve joined a very exclusive club this evening,” Gordon smiled. “There are very few ‘Gentlemen of Deansgate’ out there!” he nodded; acknowledging the fact that he too had once played the part, some twenty-five years ago. “You’re never going to be the same after this.” 
The grin on Gordon’s face was a little too perplexing for Ned. He couldn’t quite make it out. He held Chris’ stare for an almost uncomfortable time, until finally raising his glass and toasting the biggest Broadway smash in many, many years.
The reviews the next morning sang with praise, just as they had all expected. Ned poured over them all, hoping for even a brief mention of his own performance. Instead, Chris had stolen the show, and the promotional image of him in the final scene, shirtless and steamy, dominated much of the pages that were dedicated to the reviews. By lunchtime, Ned could recite almost all of them word for word. It seemed like he wasn’t the only one who had felt the curious atmosphere in the theatre that first night. Each review, every single one, seemed to comment on it in some form; like some magical awakening of acting greatness. Still, Ned cut every last one of them out, saving them all for his own personal scrapbook.
“Do me a favour,” Gordon insisted, raising his hand to get Ned’s attention as everyone else busied themselves backstage for the second night. “Drop these off with Chris, will you?” he insisted, thrusting a box of doughnuts towards Ned.
“What? Take them to his dressing room?” Ned asked, delighted and nervous about getting the opportunity to go and see Chris before the curtain went up. “Does he even eat doughnuts?”
Gordon chuckled. “Oh, he eats them alright!” he smirked, already waddling away to deal with something more pressing.
Ned held the large tray of doughnuts in his hands, feeling empowered, simply to go and see the star of the show before he went on stage. He raced along the corridor like a man on a mission and knocked firmly on the door until he heard Chris’ deep, masculine voice telling him to come inside.
Half dressed, Chris’ fine torso was on show as he collected all of his bits for the first act. Ned felt like he had entered at the absolute perfect time. “Um, Gordon sent these over,” he mumbled, trying to think straight and not stare too much at the gorgeous man in front of him. Just how many people would have paid serious cash to be standing exactly where he was right then?
“What are they? Doughnuts?” Chris asked, dropping his belt on the floor and heading straight over. He reached in and grabbed one with each hand, pushing one immediately into his mouth with the biggest bite Ned had ever seen. He moaned aloud and chewed quickly, as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
“I didn’t know you were so keen on doughnuts,” Ned chuckled awkwardly, simply standing there, holding the box, not knowing where he could put it down. Chris was still purposefully in front of him, seemingly getting ready to take another round.
Chris didn’t answer. He simply moaned as he gorged on doughnut after doughnut; not even caring that his mouth was now covered in sugar. Ned stood there, watching the car crash in slow motion as the entire box was devoured in less than three minutes flat.
“Fuck!” Chris chuckled, swallowing the last of it all. “I had no idea I could do that!” he smirked, turning to look at himself in the mirror, then laughing at how immediately bloated his stomach had become. “Bring me another one of those trays after the show and I’ll let you suck me off,” Chris suddenly declared, reaching his hand down to his crotch and readjusting the suddenly obvious erection that was pressing against his purposefully tight pants. 
“What?” Ned asked; his heart beating faster than ever before. Had he heard that right?
“Don’t act coy,” Chris shot back. “You heard me. I’ve seen the way you look at me. Bring me another tray of doughnuts after the show and I’ll let you suck me dry,” he repeated, reaching for Ned’s limp hand and placing it directly across to his boner. “Deal?” Chris asked, knowing that there was no way Ned would ever refuse him.
Ned left Chris’ dressing room almost shaking with elation. Was this really happening? The hottest, straight hunk in the world was going to let him go down on him after the show? Surely this was just a dream? 
With the first act soon over with, Ned snuck out to the doughnut place across the street and bought the exact same tray of treats that had been delivered earlier. He stood around, pretending to wait purposefully in the corridor, having concealed the order under a pile of clothes in his small, shared changing area. 
The next thing Ned knew, he was back on stage for the curtain call. He’d started to doubt himself; to dispute reality. He was going insane. Chris hadn’t really made such an advance on him, nor made the bizarre request! He was just slowly succumbing to madness. But as they all cheered their way off the stage, Ned felt a very firm hand on his shoulder and the Hollywood superstar bringing his mouth close to his ear, whispering. “You’ve got fifteen minutes.”
After the buzz of the first night, the second night always felt anticlimactic, with people darting off quickly after the show ended. Ned waited until there was a slight lull in the noisy corridor, until he stood outside Chris’ dressing room holding the doughnut tray, knocking until he heard the call for him to enter.
This time, Chris was sitting. already stroking himself in his chair; legs parted and pants removed, ready for Ned to do what he had come here for. Of course he had a large penis, Ned thought to himself, watching the sexy guy stroking it like he was filming a porn scene. 
“Give them to me!” Chris demanded, having eyes only for the tray that Ned was carrying. He reached out, ripped them from him and immediately began gorging, like he had before. Then, with only a nod of his head, he ordered Ned down to his crotch.
Slipping onto his knees, Ned could hardly believe what he was about to do; something he never imagined could be done. He started slowly, determined to get it exactly right; to give Chris as much pleasure as he could. If he delivered Chris the best blow job of his life, he would. He pursed his lips and worked his tongue to perfection, hearing Chris moan with pleasure as he pushed those doughnuts into his mouth. He felt the guy’s large, sticky, icing-covered hand press onto the top of his head, pushing him deeper into his crotch. Ned obliged, willing himself not to gag as his throat opened further. Then, absolute magic. He’d done it. He’d made the Hollywood superstar climax in what sounded like the most intense orgasm imaginable. 
Ned stood, feeling proud, looking down on the hunk slouched in the chair. The man was a mess, covered in icing and sugar all around his face; his toned stomach now bloated and hard. The man seemed dazed, either from the eating, or the intense relief of having ejaculated so forcefully. He sighed multiple times and began tapping his own face as if to bring himself back into reality. “Fuck! That was good!” the man growled, before sitting up and casually feeding himself the larger fragments of doughnut that had fallen onto his chest during his rampant gorging minutes earlier.
Grinning, Ned knew that this was a tale he would be able to recount for the rest of his life: the day he sucked off Chris Peterson in his dressing room!
“What are you doing this evening?” Chris asked, finally getting to his feet.
“Um, nothing much,” Ned replied, feeling the shadow of the large man cross over him.
“You know this city, don’t you?” Chris pondered. “You’re from here, aren’t you? You can take me out.”
“Yes,” Ned answered, without evening thinking; his heart almost leaping out of his chest. “But I wouldn’t know where to take a Hollywood star like you. We’d be harrassed by journalists the whole time if I took you to the bars I usually go to.”
“Then don’t take me to the bars,” Chris shot back. “Take me back to your place and order in.”
“You… you want to come back to my apartment?” Ned spluttered, overjoyed and simultaneously embarrassed by the thought of hosting Chris Peterson in the miniscule space he rented in the city. Still, he had kept the place fairly clean… Maybe Chris just wanted another opportunity for them to be alone together again.
“Is it far from here?” Chris asked, already gathering all that he needed and slipping a few items of clothing back on. 
“Not far,” Ned replied, realising that he didn’t really have a choice either way. “We can head out through the back and be there in five minutes.”
“Good,” the man nodded, already pushing Ned towards the door. “Lead on.”
Just over an hour later, Ned was accepting the second delivery at his apartment whilst Chris lounged on his couch, gorging himself on the pizzas that had arrived five minutes earlier. The moment he went back in, Chris dropped his greasy pizza down and made to grab the bag of Chinese food, not caring that the slice landed topside up on the couch, leaking the oily residue into the material. 
“I didn’t know that you were such a foodie,” Ned sighed, hoping that Chris’ hunger wasn’t going to get in the way of them having more fun later on. He ran to grab a cloth and began attempting to get the stain out.
Chris’s kisses were passionate and arousing after all the food. Ned had seen some bizarre Hollywood diets in his time, but this binge eating of Chris’ had bloated his stomach up like nothing he had ever known. He was gentle around the man in the bedroom, wondering whether he might throw up should things get a little energetic. Hosting a Hollywood superstar, making him climax in his very own apartment, it felt like a moment Ned had been waiting for his entire life; an experience he could boast about for years to come. Had Chris wanted to stay the night, Ned would have been more than delighted, but the man seemed restless and keen to get back to the hotel he was staying in, ordering himself a ride and bidding Ned a goodnight.
Gordon didn’t seem to care when Chris didn’t show in time for their pre-show meetings, rolling in with just enough time to get into costume and get on stage. For the first time, the backstage crew began to grumble about him, knowing that they were only one week in, with another eleven long weeks to go. But just as the lead actor had seemingly lost all passion for it, so had their esteemed director; no longer bothered by the silly little mistakes that were made by the lighting department on the fifth night, nor the fact that Chris had missed his cue several times by the start of week two.
On their opening night, the show had felt like a slick, well-oiled and ambitious machine. Now things were getting sloppy and haphazard. The excellent reviews of the previous week were being replaced by curious clippings in gossip columns about Chris’ amateurish performances. Not only that, but a rogue cell phone had snapped a picture of Chris during his shirtless scene looking significantly thicker than he had seemed in the promotional shots. Ned had seen it first hand as he continued to slip into Chris’ dressing room after a performance for some fun. He’d known that the make-up department had painted on a six-pack for the last three performances. However, nothing could mask the unmistakable width of Chris as he turned to his side; a distinct paunch starting to form. All of a sudden, that one picture seemed to be everywhere and all of the press interest in the play turned directly towards Chris’ weight gain.
“There’ll probably be more people trying to get pictures of you tomorrow,” Ned warned as he snuck into Chris’ dressing room and caught the guy gorging himself on a couple of boxes of cookies that had been left in there for him.
Chris scowled and nodded for Ned to lock the door behind him. “That’s tomorrow’s problem,” he grumbled, sliding down in his chair and pulling out his hardness for Ned to suck on as he ate.
Ned assumed the position, noticing the roll of stomach fat that was beginning to encircle Chris’ waist. His fingers slipped onto it as he took Chris’ hardness in his mouth, noticing the soft and doughy nature of it, slyly ruining the ultimate Hollywood sixpack. Ned knew he was in some way enabling Chris by not walking away and failing to challenge him on his eating but when else in his life was he going to have the chance to be with a global superstar like this?
With the doughnuts gone, Chris stood up and removed the last of his clothes, ready to fuck Ned over the table at the back of the room. Ned obliged, catching the view of Chris’ softer glutes in the mirror as they began kissing; the back fat standing out so much, the skin starting to roll. “Chris…” Ned started, knowing that he could no longer stay silent. “Don’t you think you need to do something about this?” he asked, pinching the actual lovehandles that had blossomed in just over a week.
“Do you want to get fucked, or not?” Chris growled back, clearly too consumed with arousal to think of anything else. Discussions about the guy’s weight were clearly off the table. Ned, lay across his table, spread his legs and allowed the horny glutton to at last get some exercise.
Their esteemed director seemed slightly different over the following days. Unlike Chis’ stomach, which seemed to grow more prominent each day, Gordon appeared to be deflating. His large gut didn’t seem quite so extreme as he strolled about at a faster pace, going from department to department. There was a twinkle in his eye as he saw Ned and a look that suggested that he knew exactly what went on between him and Chris behind the closed doors of the dressing room.
The man had rejected calls for the shirtless scene to be altered so that Chris could cover himself with a shirt, positively laughing at all the press that surrounded the hunk’s sudden gains. “All publicity is good publicity,” he grinned as if he hoped for a boost in ticket sales from it all; not that there was any need. The show had been booked out for weeks before they’d even started rehearsals. 
News outlets began reporting that Gordon had insisted Chris diet immediately and that he had threatened to kick him out from the show should he not comply. However, none of it was true. Of all the people working on that production, the director was the only one who was not in the least bit flustered by it all, even as Chris’ management seemed determined to find a way to get him out of the play and end this constant barrage of bad publicity. 
Ned felt it all very personally, having fallen for Chris during this strange period of his life. But with so much gossip and speculation flying around, how much longer could his fling with Chris stay a secret? A public ‘outting’ was absolutely the last thing either of them needed right then.
“Eight more weeks to go!” Gordon sang, almost tauntingly at them all as Chris stepped up behind the curtain, a rounded stomach pressing out, ready for the shirtless scene. Gordon appeared to wait, listening intently for the inevitable gasps of the stunned audience as the former hunk went out on stage. Then the director would chuckle to himself and stroll happily away.
Getting in to see Chris was becoming harder and harder. A team of people seemed to surround the man the entire time he was at the theatre; men and women who had been flown over from Hollywood to kick Chris into touch. None of it seemed to be working. Even under the strict eyes of his babysitters, Chris’ stomach seemed to be expanding daily. Tensions with the director seemed to flare up as Gordon failed time and time again to renegotiate the star’s watertight contract. The looming fear that the play would end hung like a dark cloud over all of them. As Chris’s belly blossomed into a small, stout and rounded beer gut, each of them looked at each other and sighed. Would this be their last show? How much longer could this insanity continue?
Like a petulant child, Chris appeared to detest all the fussing around him. Sometimes, at night, he would appear at Ned’s apartment, having snuck out undetected from his hotel. He’d order take-out, complain bitterly about his situation and completely fail to show any self-awareness of his own part in the evolving crisis that surrounded him; even as he gorged on pizza after pizza. He’d drawn Ned in, making him feel like the only one in the world who could sympathise with him; the one sane person in his life whilst all the madness threatened to consume him. Ned had been flattered. He felt special. And even though he could see the giant ball of stomach fat growing larger and larger; even as a double chin began to spread itself under Chris’s handsome face and his tight glutes softened with each passing day, Ned still fell for him and stayed up late into the night, pleasing him in any way he could.
It was week four when everything seemed to crash around them. Ned saw the news flash up on his cell phone before anyone at the play got in contact with him to let him know. Chris had left the production, paying a hefty, multi-million dollar fee for exiting early and ending the show.
“You’re up!” Gordon sang down the phone an hour or so later. “You’re my Gentleman of Deansgate!”
“But I thought…” Ned mumbled back; his head spinning.
“One last performance!” Gordon exclaimed excitedly. “Chris’ team were quite insistent upon it as they added a nice buffer into the cheque they signed this morning to get him out of his contract.”
“Why?” Ned asked, remembering how adamant Gordon had once been that he would never allow Ned to understudy for Chris. “What does it matter to them?”
“Just be here early,” Gordon replied, immediately ending the phone call.
Ned didn’t know how to feel. The last few weeks had been the strangest of his life. On the one hand, he felt elated that he was about to have the biggest career highlight to date, seeing his name appearing in the articles about Chris’ sudden departure as the Gordon’s team sent out their official press release about the final show. However, he also knew that he was unlikely to see Chris ever again. The media had already reported that he had left New York for his home in Los Angeles. Just like that, it was all over.
Gordon positively skipped about backstage, racing between the different departments. There was no denying that he had lost a significant amount of weight in the last few weeks and the spring in his step seemed to catch everyone off-guard. Everything had to be perfect once more and the sloppiness of the last few weeks had to end immediately. Yet, despite all the demands and high standards Gordon was insisting upon, there was still a smug, sickly grin plastered all over his face.
“He’s just had a massive payout from Chris’ people,” whispered one of the lighting guys as Ned watched the man with obvious confusion etched across his face. “I was here late last night when they were all negotiating.”
“Well, I expect it must be a relief for him now all the tickets will have to be refunded for the rest of the run,” Ned nodded.
“That stuff’s all covered,” the backstage man replied, shaking his head at Ned’s misunderstanding. “I mean Gordon himself. He’s just had over five million dollars from Chris to let him go early and to ensure there’s this last performance tonight.”
“They paid Gordon personally?” Ned asked. “But that makes no sense!”
Twenty minutes later and the crowds were starting to move into the theatre, bitterly disappointed that the main attraction for attending this play had inexplicably left the production. Ned had no doubt that he wouldn’t be able to please the audience, no matter what he did that night. Ned had braced himself for Gordon’s assertive approach to managing him, yet the man had barely uttered more than a few words. Despite micromanaging everyone else, as the new lead actor, Ned felt almost as if he was going into the whole thing blind. Gordon stood behind him as the music began to rumble into life, placing his hand on Ned’s shoulder just before his cue. The role had been Gordon’s once, many, many years ago. Perhaps he felt like he knew how Ned was feeling. “Welcome to the club,” he whispered, grinning excitedly and nudging Ned onto the stage.
If Ned could have found the words to describe the feeling as he acted on stage that night, his explanation would have been akin to the accounts of out-of-body experiences. It was as if he no longer needed to recall the lines of dialogue; like they simply flowed through his body. His movements did not feel like his own; his walk and stature had altered. It was as if he embodied the character and had no control over any of it at all. In the papers the next morning, they would criticise him for mimicking Chris’ performance to the very last detail, but in Ned’s mind, the only thing he had actually done was to step out onto that stage. Everything else had been autopilot.
Unlike the final show of every other production Ned had ever been in, the mood that night was too low to celebrate afterwards. People hugged backstage and collected all their things, knowing that they would not have an opportunity to do so at any other time. Meanwhile, after all the obligatory praise, Ned headed back into the main dressing room as if his mind had drifted below a dense fog. He simply sat in his chair, staring at his reflection in the mirror. What on earth had come over him?
Half an hour later, a drunken Gordon came skipping into the room, holding a glass of champagne for himself. “You did wonderfully!” he beamed at Ned, despite the fact that Ned had already been told that Gordon hadn’t seen a moment of it; too busy celebrating backstage. “And now, no one else will perform this play for many decades to come!” he beamed. “‘The Curse of Deansgate’ has struck again! An incomplete run, just like every other time it’s been attempted. No financial backers will go near it again,” he laughed, as if this had all been such a vast, cunning plan from the very beginning.
“Everything worked out pretty well for you, though,” Ned managed to utter, catching the scent of something sweet down the corridor and suddenly feeling remarkably hungry. 
“Even better than I expected,” Gordon nodded emphatically, running his hand down his surprisingly deflated gut. “But the curse has never been about financial ruin, has it?” he laughed. “The curse has always been something much more insidious. I taught that arrogant fuck a lesson and got a very decent payout at the same time.” He looked at his reflection in the mirror, seeming pleased with what he saw. “It’s been a very successful few weeks!”
“You never really did forgive Chris, did you?” Ned asked, feeling the strangest sense of familiarity with Gordon. The man’s last words to him before he had gone on stage had been to welcome him to the Deansgate ‘club’ and now that Ned was there, he felt as if he could ask Gordon anything and be told the exact truth.
Goron closed the door that he had been propping open with his large body and stepped inside so that he could not be overheard. “Of course not,” he laughed. “And you sealed your fate the moment you started sucking him off back here after each performance.” He looked down at Ned disapprovingly. “You’re a serious actor. You should have known better than that!” he scolded him. “Perhaps I should have fired you then and saved you from all this.”
Ned dropped his head. Gordon was certainly right there.
“I hadn’t ever planned to let you take the lead. But when Chris Peterson’s management figured things out, the opportunity to throw you under the bus was simply too easy.” He looked down at Ned with triumph dancing in his eyes. “Lay down with dogs and you get fleas.”
“What did they figure out?” Ned asked, having the strangest feeling that the way his mind was so clouded at that moment was all related to something much larger.
“Here,” Gordon grunted, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. “I’ve been told to give you this.”
An envelope was thrown into Ned’s lap without Gordon even making an effort to step forwards. Ned opened it up and found a plane ticket to Los Angeles, departing at 2.05am. 
“Lover Boy wants to see you!” Gordon explained, holding back a snarl.
Silently, Ned felt elated. From the moment he’d read that Chris had left New York, he had believed that their fling was over. Now he was realising that he hadn’t been forgotten after all. “Well, I guess there’s no point in sticking around here these next few days, anyway” he sighed, looking around the dressing room he would have to vacat shortly.
“No, I quite agree,” Gordon smirked. “I’ll message him to let him know that you’re on your way.” He placed his hand on Ned’s shoulder. “Now that you’re the very latest Gentleman of Deansgate instead, I have a feeling that you’re about to meet the real Chris Peterson at long last…”
Ned felt eyes on him the entire time as he made his way to the airport and flew across the country, not really knowing what was going to happen when he finally arrived. In the arrivals lounge, a driver was waiting, holding up a banner with his name written across it. Ned’s only backpack was taken off his shoulders as he made his way to the expensive car that was to carry him away. 
They pulled up forty minutes later at the most obscene residence, overlooking the Hollywood hills. The whole residence seemed llavish beyond words. Unlike the chill of a New York winter, the sun shone gently on Ned’s face and he sighed in appreciation at his own good fortune.
A member of Chris’ extensive team came straight out to greet him, ushering him inside almost as if he was expecting a team of photographers to ambush them from the gates . Everywhere was pristine and surprisingly immaculate, from the large marble pillars to the extensive windows at the back of the property, overlooking an enormous swimming pool and the incredible view across the valley.
Ned sat down at the large breakfast bar in the kitchen, where pastries and snacks filled several plates for the members of Chris’ entourage. He was told to help himself whilst the man left the room to let Chris know that he had arrived. Whilst Ned ate, he heard the splash of someone emerging from the pool and suddenly saw the large, looming shape of Chris Peterson marching across the terrace towards the expansive kitchen. Dressed in only his swim shorts with a towel lazily draped over his shoulders, Chris moved with an assertive speed that Ned had not seen from him before; although, his fat stomach popped out in front of him, firm and rounded under his large pecs.
“Excellent!” Chris cheered, spotting Ned and striding straight over to place his hands on his secret lover’s shoulders as he ate. Chris’ strong fingers massaged Ned’s shoulders, not offering any other sign of affection, most likely because his team were all so close by. “Did anyone see him arriving?” Chris asked someone behind them.
“No, sir. It was all very fast and discreet,” replied a deep masculine voice.
“Good,” Chris replied, his hands massaging more softly now and leaning in to whisper into Ned’s ear. “I bet you’re hungry after all that travelling.”
Chris suddenly stood bolt upright and marched about once more, heading to the refrigerator and pulling out as many things as he could.
“Sir, sir…” counselled a woman from his staff. “You don’t need to do that. We’ve got this covered. You can head back to the pool. We’ll look after Ned.”
Chris looked across at Ned, as if calculating whether he could trust his entourage to do what they were promising. “Fine,” he spat, turning around and marching straight out, clearly in a mood about something. “But I need results. I need all of this mess sorting out now!”
Coming down from the high of his great performance the night before was almost impossible. Ned had hardly slept at all on the plane and he had the remarkable feeling of being almost drunk. Time seemed like nothing at all as Chris’ friendly team fussed around him. He was led out onto the terrace to watch Chris’ gruelling swimming training with his coach. Every now and then, the unnecessarily angry actor would call out to his team any time he looked up and saw that Ned wasn’t being looked after with something to eat or drink.
“You’ve got one fucking job!” he yelled from the pool, making them all rush about to serve Ned something else.
Ned was half asleep when he heard Chris’ voice mumbling around him. “Fucking wake him up then!” he ordered one of his team, before huffing and coming over himself. “Ned… Neddy…” he called out in a voice that was barely soothing. “It’s dinner time, buddy!”
Ned opened his eyes.
“He’s awake,” Chris nodded to two guys, who promptly lifted the back of Ned’s deckchair up so that he was sitting upright. “It’s time to eat now, buddy,” Chris explained to Ned, like he was a toddler, using the kindest voice he had heard from him all day. “Mmmm! Look at all this!” he cooed, as a perfect height table was rolled underneath the deck chair so that a table sat just in front of Ned, loaded with different items.
Overcome with hunger, Ned set to work without questioning any of it. Once food was in front of him, nothing else seemed to matter.
“Good. This is good,” Chris nodded again at his team, as he looked back and forth between them and Ned. “He seems to like this the best,” he pointed at one of the dishes, as if that was a cue for them to get more. 
Faced with so much food, Ned found it hard to concentrate. He was given large, chocolate flavoured drinks that were thick and almost difficult to swallow, however Chris seemed to nod his head in approval each time Ned managed to get one down.
Ned wished that everyone else would disappear. He felt so uncontrollably horny for Chris, yet there were always people around, making it impossible for them to come together. Something about the food seemed almost… erotic. He’d never felt this way before, nor eaten so much in only a few short hours; although he wasn’t quite sure how much that was.
As night time approached, Chris entered Ned’s bedroom carrying a large tray of doughnuts. “A little treat before bed!” he winked charmingly, throwing them down on the mattress.
Ned felt his body lunge for them and he began stuffing the first one into his mouth. Chris hopped on beside him, throwing his arm over Ned’s shoulders like they were old friends, rather than lovers.
“That fucking play, huh?” he grumbled to Ned as the guy ate. “Gordon did us both dirty with that one… and I had no fucking idea!” he laughed, like he had had some lucky escape. “That’s why it’s always important to have people looking out for you behind the scenes. That could have been the end of my whole career!”
Chris noticed a large piece of Ned’s third doughnut break off as the houseguest ate a little too fast. Chris picked it up, not caring about the sticky icing that had spread across the sheets, but keen that Ned should get it down him. 
“I’m afraid I’m not going to try and stop you eating, like you did with me.” He looked down at his own, stout gut and sighed. “Look at all this!” he complained, grabbing a large wedge of it. “How the hell did you ever let me fuck you, looking like this? It’s disgusting!”
“You’re beautiful,” Ned mumbled through a mouthful of food, spitting a little out.
Chris tutted and exhaled in frustration. “You’re wasting it!” he growled in annoyance. Getting more fed up when Ned tried to apologise and did the same thing again. “Look, just sit back a bit more and let me take care of this,” he insisted, handing Ned yet another doughnut and feeling his hand into the eager guy’s crotch, grabbing at the hardness, but not stroking until Ned started to eat. 
Ned had never known bliss like it: the tastes on his tongue and the pleasure down below. Each time he swallowed and opened his mouth to moan, in went a fresh doughnut. There were multiple points when he felt like he could have climaxed, yet Chris seemed to hold him back until the very last moment. He came, feeling like a strong jet had erupted from his groin, opening his eyes moments later to see Chris dropping the emptied doughnut tray onto the floor and wiping his hands on the bed sheets. “Was that nice?” he asked, returning to that slightly patronising tone.
Ned nodded, feeling utterly spent.
“Good,” Chris smiled. “Would you like the same again tomorrow?” Chris asked, like he was trying to bargain something out of Ned. So when Ned nodded, stuffed full of food and bloated, the man couldn’t help but chuckle, heading back to his own master suite.
Chris had lost weight. With all his training and determination, Ned had never seen a belly shrink so quickly. Yet, over the coming days, he felt an onslaught of fat begin to slide onto his own stomach, inflating it with softness in an unnaturally speedy manner. Sometimes he would wake from an afternoon nap to find a measuring tape had been wrapped around his arm or thigh, by a member of Chris’ staff; no one seeming in the least bit surprised at the sudden transformation, despite monitoring it closely.
Ned knew he should be paying more attention to his body. But food was everywhere and his brain felt like it was in such a fog. Dressed only in a pair of swim shorts, he couldn’t detect a stretching in his clothes, nor remember where he had even put his cell phone to communicate with the rest of the world outside of Chris’ incredible house. Nothing he seemed to do from that point on appeared to annoy Chris, with the man’s face lighting up each time he saw a shirtless Ned lazily trotting towards the breakfast bar to eat. The other staff were relaxing too, with fewer of them there in the day now. The ‘crisis mode’ of the previous week was now over. 
Chris lifted his arm and still felt a slight stubborn clinging of fat around his love handles. “Do you want some ice cream?” he asked Ned, as if this would somehow remedy the problem. Without waiting for an answer, he headed over to the freezer to fetch it and dumped the complete tub in front of Ned, along with a large spoon. 
Back Chris went to the mirror, turning and flexing, all the while keeping a watchful eye on Ned.
“It’s almost time for you to go home soon,” he smiled. “A couple more days and things should have worked themselves out.”
“I don’t think I want to go home,” Ned replied, feeling his heart sink.
Chris laughed and came over to pat his chubby friend on his back. “I know. I know,” he smiled. “But what am I supposed to do with you once I’m back to my old shape?” He looked down at Ned’s shirtless body and seemed to grimace at the rolls of fresh blubber along his side. “You’ll just be getting more and more out of shape and I don’t really want that hanging around outside by the pool.” He ruffled Ned’s hair playfully. “I’m sure you can understand that,” he laughed, pulling a fresh bottle of water out from the refrigerator and sliding a bowl of potato chips closer to Ned instead. Then, off he went onto the terrace, diving into his pool once more.
Ned didn’t see Chris after that. The guy had disappeared later that afternoon after a lucrative advertising deal had emerged. He read later on that Chris had claimed his appearance in the play had been caused by some form of abdominal distension, unrelated to weight gain. Several so-called ‘experts’ disputed that, but when the hunk reappeared in beach shots looking just as fit as ever only a few days later, all other explanations seemed to be implausible.
No such rapid recovery came for Ned, however. Once home, his ravenous appetite seemed to consume him and he was dropped by his agent only six months later after piling on a ridiculous amount of weight in that period. And, although he could never prove it, Ned always had a suspicion that Chris Peterson’s team had been at least partly behind his declining career; desperately wanting to reduce his influence after everything that had happened with their golden boy.
Ned’s handsome face seemed to bloat and his chiselled jawline was engulfed and framed by an unflattering amount of neck fat. His pecs drooped within a month and his stomach fat swelled into a giant ball of surprisingly squishy blubber. Pants were hard to come by, given how wide his rear had become after the first year. Ned found that he had to detach himself from his old life and form something new; taking inspiration from the only other man he had known to have gone through the same experience….
It was thirty years later when Ned sat in the same old theatre where they had performed ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’ all those years ago. It had taken him decades to finance a new run and convince his investors. But, at long last, the show was ready to audition the lead roles. 
Years ago, after Ned had had time to think and understand it all, unemployed and gaining pounds and pounds of lard by the day, he wrote it all down; every last detail of that play he would one day hope to direct: the lighting, the sound, the timings, the instruments. He didn’t know which parts were important to whatever power fuelled the curse that he had lived with for so long; transforming him into the gluttonous man he had been all these years. Everything had to be perfect.
“I’m very grateful to you for coming all the way over here to audition,” Ned smiled at the handsome, young hopeful standing on the stage: the image of his beautiful father. 
“I’m very flattered that you wanted me,” the athletic twenty-seven year old replied. “I believe you were the understudy for my father when he performed here? It was his only Broadway appearance.”
“Yes, yes,” Ned nodded. “That seems like a lifetime ago!” he lied. “And I’m sure your father would be very proud to see you standing there now, ready to fill his shoes,” he smiled, pretending to be sorry that Chris Peterson’s drug-fuelled car crash had claimed his life five years earlier.
The audition went well; not that Ned had ever seriously considered anyone else for the role. Revenge could come in many forms, but few as sweet as this poor boy.
“I think this show is going to be a huge success!” Ned grinned, eyeing his new lead actor’s cute butt as he skipped out of the theatre having just signed a watertight contract. “I can’t wait to get started!”
249 notes · View notes
littlelamy · 1 day ago
Text
how you met
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
rockstar!rafe x model!reader
The pulsing bass and dim lights made it easy to get lost in the heat of the underground club. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, spilled drinks, and the kind of energy that came alive after midnight. It was the perfect place to forget… or be forgotten. Exactly what you’d needed after your friends all but forced you out tonight, insisting that life didn’t end just because you’d left your famous ex in the past.
"Look around!" one of them yelled over the music, nudging you with a sly grin. “This is exactly what you need!”
“Right,” you muttered, taking a sip of whatever drink they’d ordered for you, scanning the room with a sort of lazy detachment. You weren’t really looking to rebound with anyone here. That is, until you saw him.
He was on stage, barely ten feet away. Shirtless, tattoos splashed across his skin, he had that dark, brooding edge that made him look like he was born for a stage like this, all arrogance and mystery wrapped up in a stunning face with a jawline that could cut glass. His voice was raw, gravelly, like he was spitting out every word with a vengeance, and somehow, he had the entire crowd hooked.
Rafe Cameron.
You recognized him immediately—he’d been the face (and body) of a million indie music magazines you’d been in too, though your worlds had never actually crossed. But seeing him up close, hearing him live, felt different. You watched, your heart picking up speed with each word he growled into the mic, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room until—
He saw you.
There was a beat, maybe two, where the energy between you was so thick it was almost tangible. His gaze raked over you slowly, starting from the glossy heels that matched the clingy little dress your friends had practically begged you to wear. His eyes were heavy, hooded, and every time he looked at you, you could practically feel the heat licking at your skin. You arched a brow, pretending not to notice, barely giving him a second glance, which only seemed to make his stare even bolder.
“God, he’s looking right at you,” your friend whispered, practically squealing in excitement. You kept a cool exterior, giving Rafe the most casual of glances before looking away, leaning back to take a slow sip of your drink. His band continued their set, but he never stopped glancing in your direction, his attention flickering between the song and whatever spell you’d cast over him.
The moment they finished, you expected him to disappear backstage. Instead, Rafe practically leaped off the stage, heading straight for the bar, for you.
“Didn’t think a girl like you would ever show up in a place like this,” he drawled, voice low and teasing as he leaned an arm on the bar next to you. He smelled like sweat and the faintest hint of smoke, and somehow, it was intoxicating. Up close, he was even more gorgeous, a mix of rugged, careless appeal and a confidence that was probably earned from too many one-night stands.
“Maybe you don’t know what kind of girl I am,” you replied, shooting him a little smirk. You wanted him, yes, but the game was too fun to rush. Besides, you were still reeling from the effect he had on you. You couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that.
Rafe chuckled, and there was something wicked about it, like he already knew exactly what you were doing and had every intention of breaking down your resolve. “Oh, I know. I’ve seen your face on more magazine covers than I can count. Got them all over my place, by the way.” His eyes roamed your body again, this time with no hint of shame. “But trust me, you’re even better in person.”
“You talk like you think you’ve got me all figured out,” you shot back, the smirk playing on your lips as you turned to face him. His stare was unrelenting, blue eyes devouring every inch of you, and there was no hiding the smolder in them. He’d probably perfected that look a long time ago, and it was undeniably sexy.
He leaned in, his lips brushing just past your ear. “You want me to figure you out?” His voice was a low, dangerous whisper. “Because, baby, I’ll take all night if that’s what it takes.”
You couldn’t help the way your breath hitched at his words. He was crass, unapologetic, and entirely too good at this game, but you weren’t about to let him know he’d gotten under your skin. Yet.
“Oh, please,” you replied coolly, rolling your eyes as if unaffected. “Like you could handle it.”
Rafe’s grin widened, flashing that perfect smile that made your pulse thud in your chest. “Big words for a girl playing hard to get,” he said, his hand reaching to twirl a strand of your hair between his fingers. He was close enough that you could see every detail of the tattoos etched along his collarbone, and you had to focus hard to keep your cool as he looked at you like you were something he was seconds away from devouring.
You arched a brow, meeting his gaze head-on. “Playing?” you echoed, feigning nonchalance. “This is just my normal.”
His laugh was a dark, husky sound, and the way his fingers brushed along your arm left a trail of heat on your skin. “If that’s the case, sweetheart, consider me hooked.”
He paused, eyes locking on yours as he closed the distance, his hand coming to rest on your waist. You could feel his warm breath on your lips, smell the scent of whiskey on his breath. You knew exactly what he wanted—and, if you were honest with yourself, you wanted it too. But you weren’t about to make it easy.
You let a long moment of silence stretch between you, your eyes flicking to his mouth for the briefest second before meeting his gaze again, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Then I guess you’ll just have to work a little harder for it, won’t you?”
Rafe’s smirk softened into something that was almost a grin. “Oh, trust me, I don’t mind putting in the work.” Without another word, his lips crashed against yours, hungry, unrestrained, a kiss that held every bit of the reckless energy he had on stage. His hands held you firmly, like he was staking a claim, and the way he kissed was more than just a kiss—it was a promise, a challenge, a taunt all in one.
As you pulled away, a satisfied smirk played on your lips. Rafe was left standing there, his hand still lingering at his side as if reluctant to let go. You met his heated gaze, letting a slow, coy smile spread across your face before stepping back, savoring the way his eyes stayed locked on you, intense and unyielding.
With one last lingering glance, you turned on your heel, swaying your hips with each step, knowing full well he was watching every second. Each sway was deliberate, your heels clicking against the floor in time with the pounding bass of the music, and you didn’t look back, but you could practically feel his eyes tracing every curve.
Rafe’s husky voice rang out, half-amused, half-starved, over the music. “You’re playing a dangerous game, you know that?”
You glanced back, giving him a sly wink. “Guess you’ll just have to catch up and see.”
His smirk grew, and you knew you’d just sparked something wild in him. Just the way you wanted it. And as you slipped into the crowd, you could already feel the tension simmering, ready to pull you back to him the second you both decided to stop playing games.
taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @dinakisser @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln
177 notes · View notes
hotshotsxyz · 1 day ago
Note
“You know me better than anyone. You always have.” for the prompts if it sparks!
(buddie) (788 words) i still have so many of these prompts left lmao, hope you like this one!
“I’m fine,” Buck says, and to his genuine surprise, he really means it.
Eddie raises an eyebrow. Rude, but fair. “You’re fine,” he echoes, flat and disbelieving.
Buck shrugs. “Yeah, man, I don’t know what to tell you.”
Eddie blinks a few times. “Is this what denial looks like? I think this might be what denial looks like.”
“Denial is a river in Egypt,” Buck replies cheerfully.
Eddie snorts. “I don’t think that’s how that saying goes.”
“Maybe not,” Buck allows. “Still fine, though.”
“Uh-huh,” Eddie says.
“I am!” Buck protests. “I’ll prove it. Ask me what happened.”
Eddie heaves a sigh and stands. “I’m getting a beer. Do you want a beer?”
“I mean, yeah, but not if it's a pity beer,” Buck calls after him.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie tosses over his shoulder.
He comes back with a bottle of Buck’s favorite sour, which is ridiculous because the only place that sells it is a full thirty minutes farther than the closest grocery store. It’s absolutely a pity beer.
“Eddie!” Buck exclaims.
He feigns innocence. “I already had it!”
Buck narrows his eyes and takes the bottle from Eddie. “I’m choosing to believe you, but only because I really don’t want one of your godawful IPAs.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and settles back on the couch beside him. “If that’s what it takes,” he says.
“You’re supposed to be nice to me,” Buck says accusingly.
“I am nice to you,” Eddie says. He leans his head against the back of the couch and rolls it lazily to the side to look at Buck directly. “I’ll be nicer if you can find an adjective other that ‘fine’ to describe your current state of being.”
Buck blows a soft breath out through his nose. “I’m good, Eds, I promise.”
“I just—you were more broken up about Natalia,” Eddie says softly. “Why are you so okay with this?”
And that—that is the sixty-four thousand dollar question, isn’t it? Because Buck is fine. He’s not emotionless, but nothing he’s feeling is particularly painful or consuming. Being with Tommy was good and fun and nice, but breaking up with him didn’t feel like some terrible ending. It felt like finishing a chapter in a book that you can’t put down and staying up late because you just can’t wait to start the next one. He’s never really felt like that before.
“Honestly? I don’t know. I just am. You know me better than anyone. You always have. Why don’t you tell me?”
Eddie huffs a soft laugh. “Contrary to the beliefs of our friends and coworkers, I can’t actually read your mind, Buck.”
“I don’t know,” Buck teases, “I think you probably could if you tried.”
“Sure,” Eddie says. “Think of a number between one and ten.”
Eleven, Buck thinks, just to be an asshole. He grins at Eddie, who stares at him in mock concentration.
Eddie narrows his eyes. “Stop cheating,” he says.
Buck bursts out laughing. “See? Knew you were a little bit psychic.”
“More like fluent in Buck,” Eddie snarks back.
He feels soft and loose, and it hits him that this is what he’d never quite had with Tommy. They were never as in sync as he is with Eddie. He’s never felt so comfortable, so known as he does when he’s here. It’s an impossibly high bar to hold a partner to, but—
Buck’s jaw drops.
Eddie’s expression shifts to vaguely concerned confusion. “What?”
“Nothing,” Buck says quickly.
Eddie fixes him with an unimpressed look.
“I just, uh—” Buck stalls, frantically searching for words that haven’t quite coalesced yet in his mind. “Um. I think I—”
Eddie sits up a little straighter. “Buck,” he says, soft and worried. “It’s just me.”
It’s just Eddie. Eddie who knows him. Eddie who sees him. Eddie who makes fun of him and trusts him and treasures the little pieces of him he’s handed over throughout the years. It’s just Eddie.
It’s Eddie, and all at once Buck is realizing that it’s never going to be anyone else.
“I, uh—” Buck tries again. “I have to—I forgot to feed my neighbor’s cat,” he lies, standing so quickly that he bumps the coffee table and nearly knocks over Eddie’s mostly full beer.
Eddie’s brow creases. “Okay,” he says quietly, and Buck doesn’t think for a second he believes him.
“I’m just gonna—I’ll see you tomorrow?” Buck asks desperately.
“Course,” Eddie says.
“Thanks for the—bye!” Buck squeaks.
He hightails it out the door and throws himself behind the wheel of his Jeep. Of course he isn’t upset about Tommy. How could he be?
He’s been in love with Eddie the whole fucking time.
184 notes · View notes
jjkarmy091 · 1 day ago
Text
Second Best - Jungkook (part 3)
Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?
Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;
Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
After Y/n's words, Jungkook looked deeply in her eyes “why would you say you wish? Y/n you are still young and beatiful. You have a life ahead of you. Did someone hurt you? If the answer is yes then let me tell you he’s a piece of shit and you deserve way better. But... who? I mean you are always so busy with your shifts and manuscript and I never saw you with anyone or talking about someone special, so I never thought... Wait, I'm sorry, that was rude. Of course you have a life above that all. I just hope the guy who made feel like that realizes how dumb he is. Do you wanna talk about it?” he said concerned and curious at the same time 
Y/n looked at him and the only thing she wanted to do was to tell him how she really fel about him, but then she saw him again looking over to where Sewoon was. And with that she said “No Jungkook, it’s nothing. Nothing happened. I guess I've been single for so long I forgot how it feels like to have someone doing things for you, and you only. Why the fuck are we talking about sad stuff anyways?” she laughed but soon realized that he probably didn’t hear since he was looking at Sewoon, again. 
“Go talk to her Jungkook. I’ll be fine. Go” she said with teary eyes. Which Jungkook didn’t notice, not when he didn’t even flinch leaving her there alone grabbing Sewoon gently by the arm and kiss her like there was no tomorrow. And surprise? Sewoon actually kissed him back, opening her eyes and looking at you just to close them once again and surround his shoulders with her arms. 
Y/n was staring all the whole scene and suddenly started to feel her cheeks wet, turning around so no one would notice. But who would ? Everyone was entertained drinking, having fun and making out. She was the stupid one crying for someone who never loved her and had any interest in her. In the end she was responsible for this ache in her heart. Why create ilusions? Why put myself in this position only to be the one broken in pieces with absolutely no repair? She though.
How clould you think you'd be good enough for him
Trying to recompose herself she went to the bathroom, walking in there and cheking herself in the mirror saying “how ridiculous Y/n, congrats."
---------
Being there for a few minutes, when she was about to turn around she goes against someone. In panick, Y/n looks up to apologize but soon reconizes that face. 
“Oh! I’m so sor- Lisa? Oh my- I’m sorry I was so lost in thoughts I didn't hear anyone coming in. Did i hurt you?” 
“Y/N? Such a small world. I'm so happy to see you. No silly, I'm good. Was too distracted with my drink too. That and also trying to hide from this really annoying guy. How have you been? Lisa said, then stopped talking and slowly approached Y/n’s face “Hunny were you crying? Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?” Y/n looked at her, paused, took a deep breath, hugged her and sobbed so hard she thought she was gonna faint. 
She doesn’t know how much time she spent crying in Lisa’s arms or when she started throwing up and feeling dizzy. All she knew was that she was so tired of pretending and hidding, as if she wasn’t allowed to feel. She thanks God to find Lisa in this party and being her in the bathroom and not Sewoon. And then flashbacks come back and the memory of him grabbing Sewoon and kissing her so hard makes you want to throw up again. And how Sewoon looked her in the eyes before embrassing Jungkook closer to her. Oh how you wish it could be you instead.
“Y/n are you here with someone else? Lets call it a night, I’ll take you home. Or do I need to take you to the hospital? You’ve got me very worried.” At this point Lisa was talking so fast Y/n tried her best to understand what she was saying.  
“i’m good Liz, really. Got to much on my system i guess. And yes, I came with Sewoon but she’s a little busy right now and i don't want to bother her, but being home right now would feel so good”  
“Sewoon? You’re still friends with her?” Lisa’s eyebrows frowned and she made a funny face. “Wanna talk about what really happened here? Because I bet my two dimes it wasn't the drink for shit” 
Y/n looked at her, turned over to face the mirror to get herself together for the second time that night and said “Tell me again why weren’t we close in highschool?” she laughed. “ It’s a pretty long story, are you sure you have time?”  
“Ohh girl please. I’m so tired of this party that I'd use anything as an excuse to leave. Tell your little model friend that you’re going home. You have five minutes, more than that I’ll be the one getting you and it won’t be pretty. Meet me at the exit door. Times ticking” 
As Y/n started leaving the bathroom she deep breathed and tried to see where Sewoon and Jungkook were so she could inform them she was leaving. As she was about to reach the bar someone grabbed her arm a little too rough.
“Hey beautiful. Haven’t seen you around here before. Shall we dance or you’re the type to have a drink first?”  Y/n’s mouth dropped to the floor. She never been through this before. Usually would be Sewoon the target, not her, and for that she was feeling uneasy and the worst part was she didn't have anyone around to give her a hand. Fuck, could this night get any worse?  
“I’m sorry but I'm trying to find my friends. You seem very nice but I really am not in the mood to dance or drink” she tried to remain calm while saying this but became a little nervous when she saw the guys face change after getting rejected. All of the sudden there was someone else grabbing her avaiable arm and getting in the middle of her and the man in front. Took her a while to figure that in front of her was Jungkook, but not the one she was used to, no. This Jungkook seemed pissed, she could notice just by the way he was holding her. 
“Didn’t she tell you no? Are you deaf or the word respect is not in your vocabulary? Leave before things get ugly” Y/n never saw Jungkook like this. Maybe it was the drinks he had. Or did he fight with Sewoon after that kiss? You doubt it since they were so invested in it. The stranger raised both his hands in surrender while looking at them and started retreating. After he was gone Jungkook turned over to Y/n looking mad.
“Are you okay? Where were you? You disappeared and none of us could get a hold of you. And now I see you up close with this guy? The fuck is the matter with you?” You looked at him perplexed. Never in the time you met him he had talked to you like that 
“I went to the bathroom and ended up talking to some girls there. Not that it concerns you since you left me all alone at your first chance so you could swallow Sewoon’s face infront of everyone. Seriously Jungkook, you’re the one who needs to get a grip. You didn’t have to meddle like that. I’m an adult, not a kid who needs to be told where she should be or who to talk to” 
Jungkook definitely wasn’t expecting this outburst of Y/n and let her go but still looking at her. For some reason he got hurt by her words. She never scolded anyone like that, even when he would annoy the shit out of her. While he was thinking about what had just happened, Y/n spoke  
“I’m actually glad to see you. I was looking for Sewoon but since you’re here can you tell her I'm going home? I’m tired and got a ride home. Can you pass her the message?” Jungkook was so surprised that Y/n was giving him an attitude that he was speechless. “Jungkook are you listening? Can you pass the message?”  
“Yes. Yes sorry. I dont know where she is, i mean.. After we kissed I- I kinda needed some air and was going back to the bar but you weren’t there anymore and i went looking for you and lost sight of her. I- “he took a deep breath “did I do something wrong? You're being so harsh with me. Is it -” 
“I’m tired Jungkook and I have someone waiting for me outside. Give her the message for me, don’t forget. Please” she started walking to the exit door but stopped, sighed and completed “Don’t get too drunk tonight and get home safe. Goodnight Kook. Take care.” And like that she was out of his sight, but not out of his mind. What was that? and why does he feel so bad?  
After watching you leave, he went to the bar and asked for the strongest drink. Never did he expect to end the night like this and he needed this night to be gone.
-----------------------
Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp
72 notes · View notes
tealvenetianmask · 2 days ago
Text
Loona understands Blitz better than anyone.
Blitz has a hard shell to crack. Actually, one of the things I love about Helluva Boss is how even though Blitz is a super loud, silly, obnoxious character, we gradually get to know the layers underneath that front and love him more each time one is lifted. I think the fact that we, as the audience, experience that shell, is one of the reasons why some viewers don't like him or get impatient with not knowing everything about what goes on in his mind.
Anyway, the other characters get to know different sides of him, but I think that Loona might be the best authority on the "many moods of Blitz." Let me explain.
Loona understands that Blitz has mental health issues. He gets upset and lashes out and then he bounces back. There's security in knowing that he's always going to bounce back.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The writers actually use Loona to teach us this about him early on. Loona's not . . . unbothered . . . by her fight with her dad in Spring Broken. But we learn that it's happened before, probably OFTEN, and that it's a pattern. He acts out emotionally- gets angry, irrational, out of control, and then he recovers and gets back to his fun, enthusiastic, determined self.
We get a very similar moment in Queen Bee.
Tumblr media
We don't know what conversations they've actually had, but I think that Loona knows very little about the actual sources of Blitz's trauma. But she knows that he's seriously damaged, and at the same time, incredibly resilient.
Probably more importantly, Loona understands that Blitz cares deeply.
Tumblr media
I bring out this Truth Seekers moment to point out that Loona knows that Blitz takes the I.M.P. gang's safety seriously and trusts him to make these difficult calls. Where Blitz might often SEEM careless or impulsive, Loona knows that, fundamentally, he's always looking out for his employees and can make reliable decisions for them in life or death situations.
Okay, Seeing Stars.
Look at this look of confusion when Blitz tells Loona that he "might" replace her.
Tumblr media
So . . . obviously Loona is pissed off about getting criticism here, but she's shaken out of her rage and utterly baffled when it comes down to the possibility of actually getting fired. Because in their relationship, Blitz is solid. He offers stability in a world where Loona knew nothing of the sort before her adoption. She knows he would never fire her, throw her out, or anything of the sort. And Blitz usually sides with her over Moxxie. So what gives . . .?
Ultimately, once she reflects, Loona has no fear at all that Blitz will abandon her.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It doesn't get any clearer than this. While Loona gives Octavia advice, she's obviously reflecting on her relationship with Blitz and understanding that beyond all the mistakes and neuroses and fuck-ups and shouting matches, Blitz is truly there for her and that care is not going anywhere.
So . . . what will this mean going forward? I don't know, but my takeaway is this.
Blitz is someone who doesn't necessarily say how he truly feels (more often than not, he avoids it and might not even know himself). He shows how he feels through his actions more than his words. Loona acts fairly annoyed when Blitz makes a show of being affectionate toward her . . . the security Loona feels about Blitz depends on him SHOWING her again and again that his care for her is genuine.
Will she give other characters (M&M? Stolas?) some insights to help them understand Blitz better? It's possible. Or they could look more closely at his actions. Or he could learn to express himself properly . . . that would be a big development. But Loona has definitely helped the audience figure him out.
69 notes · View notes
humming-fly · 3 hours ago
Note
Something I noticed is that when you see Ling shirtless for the first time he isn't very jacked despite his physical ability and looks like a twink. Then after the timeskip is when he gets absolutely ripped, and even Ed is jacked too. Headcanon: during the timeskip Ed and Greed do train a lot and spar with each other to get ready for the Promised Day. Logs make excellent weights. Greed also wanted his guns back.
pfdTT I mean given the crazy shit both ling and ed pull off I think they're about as jacked as they can be for their ages haha (the merch companies especially lean into that I don't think I've ever seen a shirtless ed fig that couldn't shred cheese like look at this shit what the hell)
Tumblr media
so one of he biggest differences from that time skip is they both got a little older and ed in particular finally seemed to hit puberty so that helped him out a ton lol - that said I do imagine they sparred! ed's used to sparring with al and I bet ling had pretty regular bouts with his retainers to stay sharp too. the only one that probably Isn't used to sparring is greed but after getting his ass kicked by wrath he might've been easier to convince to at least try to synchronize with ling better, thus their much more merged fighting style on promised day~
and since you sent a few other hc's I'll go ahead and answer them here as well lol
Tumblr media
yeah that sure matches the requirements for a sad headcanon! Personally I don't think you could willingly get greed in the general proximity of that bar with a 20ft pole after he had a meltdown that lasted a whole fuckin month, but maybe if he survived post-canon you could finagle something lol
Tumblr media
oh this one isn't sad this one is Fun hahaha - we love a good problem-solving situation and also of anyone ling is the Best equipped to bullshit his way out of a problem in some way or another - @atomicpowered actually hit on this scenario a bit in their fic series over here, which I Highly recommend for some post-canon greedling fun :P
Tumblr media
Cute! I bet that happened at least a few times, though harder to say how much grumbling was made on either party's side haha
Tumblr media
Oh ling for sure was rambling at any and everything he could for a while while whittling greed down - even if the screaming ghosts aren't responding can still bother the evil possessing voice evesdropping on him! (or forced to evesdrop on him, I'd bet good money there were many times greed would have Loved to drown ling out)
27 notes · View notes
msschemmenti · 9 hours ago
Text
fun police - 3
bau x reader / eventual emily prentiss x reader
a/n: is anyone interested in reading y/n’s sessions with the other team members? or are we cool with focusing on emily?
Tumblr media
“why are you here?” jj asked as she breezed past emily’s darkened office. she and alves had gotten an early morning break on a case they were working and were just getting back. she glanced at her wrist and caught sight of the abnormally early hour and stepped into the office curiously.
“i’m doing my homework.” emily grumbled but kept her eyes closed and her wrist angled.
“homework? what are you talking about?” jj asked as she allowed her eyes to fully take in emily’s crisscrossed legs and closed eyes.
emily’s peaked an eye open to address jj, “homework from fun police y/ln. didn’t you get homework too?”
“no? i don’t think anyone got homework. this is the first im hearing of any of that.” jj replied, fighting down a laugh as she realized what emily was actually doing. “are you meditating?”
“no one else has homework? what the hell…” emily grumbled uncrossing her legs and leaning against the couch.
“no, what did you say to y/n? we all kinda expected you to talk your way out of any additional sessions. but now i see that’s not what happened. giving you homework and a weekly meeting is kind of extreme. i mean even rossi is on bi-weekly sessions.” jj said leaning on the arm of one of the loungers.
“even rossi? he’s faaaar worse than me. i’m pretty sure he’s still seeing voit in his head.” emily grumbled causing jj to laugh. “i don’t know what it is about her. it’s like as soon as we’re alone she sucks every bit of coherence and sense out of my brain. and then i just end up looking stupid. and mentally ill.”
“yeah i’ll give you that. she has a way of pulling things out for sure. but i don’t think that’s why you seem to be having a far more difficult time articulating yourself…” jj smiled suggestively.
“and what’s that supposed to mean?”
“oh i don’t know, it probably doesn’t help that she’s so attractive.” jj could see the protest on emily’s face so she continued. “i know i was a little surprised. i never really envisioned a wellness agent but it definitely wasn’t her.”
“well i won’t judge you for that.” emily mumbled, looking at her nails dismissively. “i don’t think that’s my problem though. her questions are just built to cause confusion.”
jj looked at emily skeptically, “well what did she ask you?”
“to define relaxation. what do i look like webster’s dictionary? oh and she asked me what tasks i enjoy. how unprofessional.” emily grumbled, unintentionally calling forth the very inappropriate image of y/n she’d created in her head during their first session.
“unprofessional? how was that unprofessional?”
“well what i like to do is unprofessional…” emily shrugged, and jj’s face lit up in amusement.
“emily elizabeth prentiss, did you tell our wellness agent the only thing you enjoy doing is sex? unprovoked?” jj was almost giddy.
“i wasn’t unprovoked! she’d been questioning me for the past hour— and i was just being honest. also i didn’t say out outright.”
“but you heavily alluded to it. to someone you are denying being attracted to. and what did she say?”
“i never denied anything. you’re making me sound guilty or guiltier than i should be! after that she asked how often i participate in that activity… and then i may have said something along the lines of ‘far more than she could think of’ or something like that.”
“oh my god!” jj grinned.
“no no oh my god-ing. she gave me homework after that.” emily shrugged, skipping the part where she conjured and image that had been living with her for the last week.
“uh huh sure. you can skip the part where she gave some witty remark that probably sent your brain into overdrive. it’s written on your face. and the more you deny it— the more i know.” jj shrugged. “anyways what is your homework, anyway?”
ignoring jj’s words emily shrugged, “i had to do four relaxing things that were not basic needs to survive.”
“and what have you done besides meditate?”
“i googled relaxing things to do and did the first four easiest things. light a candle,” she gestured to the candle burning on her desk. “check. drink some tea,” mug on the coffee table. “check. i took a walk from my car in the parking garage to my office. check. and finally my meditation. check.”
“right.” jj held the word with a nod. “seems you’ve got this under control. i look forward to hearing how this turns out.”
“hardy har har, of course you do.” emily huffed, pulling herself from the floor and sitting on the couch. “despite what you seem to think— im going to ace this session.”
jj chuckled and nodded, “whatever you say. regardless i’ll be waiting to hear about it tomorrow.”
-
when their session time came— emily made sure to be stretched across her couch, empty mug on display with the tes bag hanging on the side, and the candle burning some sort of vanilla lavender scent.
“wow, look at you! feeling relaxed?” y/n asked as she appeared in emily’s open doorway.
“i’m as zen as zen can be.” emily boasted with a shrug as she made an effort to lean further in the couch.
“uh huh,” y/n nodded coming in the office fully and taking the seat across from the couch. “how was that homework?”
emily preened at the opportunity to show off her ‘honest’ efforts at relaxation. “great! i meditated this morning. took a walk before work. i’ve been on tea today and i’ve even got a nice candle going. so very relaxing.”
y/n nodded along with a smile and as soon as emily finished she leaned forward on her knees, “so that sugary to-go coffee cup with your name scribbled on it in the trash can isn’t yours? and the walk you took wasn’t from the parking garage to the door, was it? surely not! and if i took at look at your candle, it wouldn’t be brand new— only lit for what an hour before i arrived? surely not! and that meditation-“
emily groaned, loudly and extended. “how the hell do you know all of that? i’m starting to think you’ve got cameras on me. full surveillance.”
y/n chuckled, “no none of that. you’re just really predictable. to me at least.”
“predictable? i’ll have you know, im very spontaneous. just a few months ago i told a gang of armed men to shoot me!” emily said indignantly.
“and that’s why we’re sitting here in the first place. if your one instance of spontaneity is telling a gang of armed men to shoot you—“
“well in the context of the situation—“ emily tried to explain but stopped at y/n’s deadpan. “oh alright, just give me another homework assignment.”
y/n shook her head, “no homework considering you don’t do it very well. i’ve got a better idea. next week we’re going on a field trip for our session. share your calendar with me and i’ll pop an official invite with details on there so everyone will know you’re out of office for an hour.”
“a field trip? i hardly see how that’ll work, im in meetings all day and my phone is always ringing off the hook. i’m a very busy woman.” emily protested.
“yeah yeah yeah, busy smisy. excuses excuses. it’s happening whether you like it or not. go ahead and blow out your candle and stop hiding your coffee. next week you’re all mine.” y/n waved dismissively before heading toward the door.
“wait that’s it? i don’t even get a chance to redeem myself today? no questions?” emily groaned.
“nope, that’s it for today. make sure you get rossi to sign your permission slip.” y/n winked over her shoulder and exited the office with a grin.
46 notes · View notes
yatagarasuhonyaku · 1 day ago
Text
The Raven of the Empty Coffin: Chapter 1 "Shigemaru" Part 1
Tumblr media
Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. The events of this novel follow after what's already covered by the anime. For an easier understanding, I recommend first reading the few scenes of previous books I've already translated.
Blog version
For the Prologue, you can find it HERE
⊛     ⊛      ⊛
Chapter 1: Shigemaru (Part 1)
“Excuse me!” A high-pitched voice reverberated through the dirt floor.
I took a look outside. A tiny shadow was just behind the open shoji door, obscured by the sunlight at his back.
“Oh, hey, what brings you here?”
The boy, who was probably around seven years old, wasn’t anyone I knew. Could he have gotten lost? I wondered. However, as I tried to approach him, the boy cast his eyes down and tightened his grasp on the sleeve of his kimono.
“Well, eh, well, Mister Upper Quarters…”
“I’m from the upper quarters, yes, what do you need?”
My big size tended to scare little children, so standing up in front of him was out of the question. I quickly knelt down, crouching until I reached his eye level. Meanwhile, the boy seemed to have finally found his resolve and raised his head.
“You see, Mister, we actually have a package for you. But nobody is home right now so… could you wait here instead?”
Huh, his parents probably sent him here, then. And what a cute kid he was, so desperate to repeat the message properly.
“I don’t mind. So, you’re here for an errand, right? Where did you come from?”  I asked.
It was at that moment that the boy finally seemed to realize I wasn’t going to eat him alive. His body visibly relaxed.
“The lower quarters.”
“Oh, so you’re that couple’s son! You must be very brave to come here all alone from so far away.”
The lower quarters was a big, old house close to the old commercial road(1). It was, in fact, quite the walk to get there. The road was just one straight line, yes, but we had barely any contact. It truly wasn’t a distance a young child could easily cross on their own.
“I flew about half the way here!”
“Oh, that’s impressive! So you can fly already.”
“Just a bit.”
“And that’s still amazing. I’m Shigemaru, what’s your name?”
“I’m Eita.” 
My conversation with the boy was soon interrupted by the sound of loud footsteps. My younger brothers had just returned, running at full speed.
“Shige(2), is that a guest?”
“Oooh, who are you?”
All being similar ages, it took no time for the kids to befriend one another. They spent the entire time until Eita’s family arrived playing without a break. From tag to spinning top, they busied themselves with any and all kinds of games.
When the time came, it was obvious the poor kid didn’t want to go back home. He had too much fun here, it seemed. So, as we were saying our farewells, I had an idea: I decided to give him a little present, a newly made spinning top.
“Ah, that must be your best one yet! It looks so much better!”
“That’s so cool! Shige makes the best tops, so you better treat it well!”
“...... Is it for me?” Eita’s eyes sparkled. “Really? Can I have it?” 
He was oh-so-visibly hesitating. How nice of him, he was nothing like my brothers or the other village brats. I was bursting into laughter before even realizing it.
“Why so timid? Eita, you did amazing today even though it was your first time playing with these. So, take this and practice for the next time you come over. How about that?”
“Next time…?” Eita whispered.
My brothers immediately took it upon themselves to start a ruckus.
“Yes, of course! Nothing stops you from coming back if you want to, right?”
“Let’s play again! This doesn’t have to be the last time.”
“And make sure to bring the top with you next time. That way we can have a match!”
Eita’s lips curved into a big happy smile. He nodded enthusiastically.
“See you! Come over to play again.”
“You better not fail us!”
“I won’t, see you!”
I watched as, under the sinking sun, his tiny frame became smaller and smaller on his way home. Again and again, he kept on turning back to look at us.
That day was the first and the last time I ever got to see Eita.
⊛     ⊛      ⊛
It was a fresh and invigorating morning. The blue sky was that particularly soft shade unique to spring. No better day to take on a new step in life, he thought to himself. The gentle, bright sunlight poured down and the blooming cherry blossoms that stretched under him gleamed. To him, they looked like drifting white clouds. 
As he flew through, enjoying the chance to view the flowers from high up in the sky, he started to see figures slowly walking up a slope. He also started to notice horse riders appearing from all over. Everyone was headed in the same direction: a number of temple buildings lined up halfway up the side of the mountain. The walls surrounding them were huge, their appearance imposing enough to subdue any would-be-intruders.
In front of it all there was a plaza, which stood right before what one could surmise was the main entrance. Some horses had even landed there already, he noticed. 
——That had to be it.
Shigemaru turned beak first towards the plaza, gliding down as he grasped the very air with his wings. Then, just as he reached the ground, he applied force to his entire body. In a mere instant, his form went from that of a massive raven to that of a human. Dust flew around flung by his wings, which quickly turned into impressive-looking tanned arms. His three legs, all ending in sharp claws, also shifted into a pair of legs that were just as imposing. He flexed, as if making sure everything was in order with his muscular body, and took the wrapping cloth bag hanging from his mouth.
Shigemaru raised his head in satisfaction and found himself face-to-face with a group of boys, all shocked by the giant who had just come down from the sky. His fellow new trainees, he surmised. They were the people he would sleep and eat with for the following three years.
But, was there something they wanted to say? He tilted his head in a wordless question. However, the boys, who had finally come back to themselves, ignored it and looked away instead, setting off towards the entrance. Across the door, multiple long tables were placed all over. From the looks of it, they were doing the new trainees’ reception there. A group of adults, most likely administrative officers, were taking in the boys as they arrived.
“Your letter of recommendation?” one of them said to him as he approached.
They didn’t even give him a chance to speak first.
“Here.”
“Name and place of origin?”
“Shigemaru of Shimaki.”
“A recommendation letter from the Headmaster and the Township Lord. All in order.” The administrative officer confirmed the contents of the letter and scribbled something down in a form. “Then, please, first head to the lodging houses to your new personal room. There should be a senior waiting there to guide you, just follow his instructions.”
The officer offered him a paper that said ‘second building, tenth room’. The moment Shigemaru tried to pick it up, however, the man gave him a wry smile instead.
“...... Still, you got some guts to come up to the entrance in bird shape,” the officer said, surprise in his voice.
Shigemaru gave him a blank look.
“Did I do anything wrong?”
“Oh, not particularly. It’s not like there’s any rule about it, but the Court Ravens will make fun of you, you know?” the officer warned him in a whisper and, finally, let him pick up the paper. “You’re from a rural area so you may not realize it yet, but central nobles are all like that. If you’re aware of what you’re doing, I won’t stop you. Just be careful.”
Shigemaru didn’t really get what he had to be careful about exactly, but he could at least tell the man was talking out of concern for his well-being. So, a sincere show of gratitude later, Shigemaru took off in the direction of his assigned lodgings.
Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t help but to notice that the other boys who were, just like him, carrying their luggage towards their rooms were all dressed in colorful clothes. Yatagarasu like Shigemaru and the others could alternate between two forms, bird and human, but to do so they had to weave a feather robe, black clothes made from part of their bodies. Once generated, which required a conscious effort on their part, it would automatically shift into their feathers when they transformed.
Kimono made of silk and hemp, however, only got in the way when shifting.
It wasn’t rare for people to spend their entire lives in their feather robe, at least for those who struggled with money. However, and rather unsurprisingly, it seemed such people were scarce among the Unbending Reed Monastery’s young trainees. In short, he was already sticking out and he had only just arrived. 
Shigemaru found himself standing there, scratching his head, when he caught sight of another person with the same all-black look in that expanding sea of blues and browns. There was no mistaking it, right over there was another newcomer wearing a feather robe.
Shigemaru immediately ran towards him and enthusiastically patted the boy’s back.
“Hey! You must be from the countryside, just like me, right?”
His fellow trainee, who almost tripped from the sheer force of the impact, somehow managed to bounce back and turn around to look at him. He was quite tiny for someone his age. The boy stood there looking at Shigemaru, mouth open and dumbfounded, perhaps taken aback by his large frame. He wasn’t only small, his features too were still soft and childlike.
“Ah, I know I may not look like it, but I’m also a newcomer. I’m from the Northern Region as well, so to be honest I don’t have any idea of how things work here in the Center. Let’s get along, fellow country bumpkin.”
The boy kept staring at him for a while, before finally breaking into a smile.
“What are the chances? I’m also from the North!”
“Really? I’m from Shimaki.”
“Taruhi. I guess that makes us neighbors,” the boy said in a polite tone.
He introduced himself as Yukiya. He seemed like a nice person, Shigemaru thought to himself. Especially with that gentle look of his.
To top it all off, Shigemaru got a look at Yukiya’s paper on their way to the lodging houses. To his surprise, it turned out they were to share a room. Both were in the tenth room in the second building.
“Oh, we are in the same room as well.”
“Now that’s just fate, isn’t it? Nice to meet you then, here’s hoping we get along,” Yukiya bowed his head.
“I hope so too!”
From there on, they talked a bit about themselves as they moved across the different facilities. After a short walk, they finally reached the dormitory rooms. They both went on to check the door signs, but Shigemaru was the one to call Yukiya over. He had found the room, and it turned out their assigned senior was even someone he already knew. Shigemaru truly felt lucky that day.
Their mentor-to-be, Ichiryuu, was what one would call the stereotypical modern young man. Both for better and for worse.
He used to have quite the rebellious side. This, on top of his eccentric taste in clothes, made the Township citizens worry quite a bit about him back in the day. However, it seemed like his time at the Monastery had done him a lot of good and turned him into a splendid trainee. He had quite the foul mouth and a mean look in his eyes, but Shigemaru knew well that there was an upright character hidden underneath.
At the very least, and from the looks of it, Shigemaru wouldn’t have to worry much about roommate problems for the following year. He let out a quiet sigh of relief.
However, upon seeing Yukiya, Ichiryuu immediately turned white as a sheet.
“W-What are you doing here!? You said there was no way you would come to the Monastery, didn’t you?” he shrieked.
“Oh, about that, you see, the circumstances have changed a lot,” Yukiya gave him a pained smile. His attitude was still impeccably polite. 
In the meantime, Shigemaru just stood there, giving alternating glances to his polar opposite roommates. Finally, he tilted his head.
“Wait, did something happen between you two?”
“Oh no, don’t worry,” Yukiya replied with a smile before Ichiryuu—whose face was contorted beyond belief—could say anything. No space was left for arguments. “We are childhood friends, after all. Everyone gets into one or two silly childish fights in their lives. But we aren’t kids anymore, so there’s no reason to hold a grudge, right?”
At Yukiya’s question, Ichiryuu froze for a second.
“Y-yes, of course. Who would hold a grudge over something that happened so long ago! Let the past be the past,” Ichiryuu agreed enthusiastically.
Yukiya’s smile, on the other hand, slowly deepened. “That said, I’ll make sure to not overstep just because of our past together. Ichiryuu, I trust you to guide us well as our senior.”
Yukiya bowed respectfully, and Ichiryuu’s face twisted once more as if he had just seen the world end.
“...... Yes, fine with me… Nice to meet you again…”
After a long period of silence, Ichiryuu finally opened his mouth again. His eyes looked dead—like those of a fish stuck on land—for some strange reason. For a moment there, it had looked as if his soul was going to leave his body. It worried Shigemaru quite a bit, but, by the time they left the dormitory hall for a tour around the Monastery, it seemed like Ichiryuu had finally returned to his usual self.
“We wake up as the sun rises,” Ichiryuu explained, his tone oddly desperate. He covered the details of Monastery life as they walked through the premises. “When to wake up, plus the start and end of the lessons, is all indicated by the ring of the bell tower up there. You won’t have to worry about missing meals as long as you pay attention. Be careful with the ‘ambushes’, however.”
“‘Ambushes’?”
“They simulate emergencies, so they happen without any prior notice. The alarm bell could sound at any time, even during lessons or during sleep. When that happens, we are supposed to gather at the plaza in front of the grand lecture hall. You should bring your Ornamented Blade(3) in hand, nothing else.”
“Ornamented… Blade? What’s that?”
“This.”
With the swooshing sound of the attached crimson strap being unfastened, Ichiryuu took off the tachi on his hip and showed it to them. Upon further examination, it was much lighter than it looked. The scabbard was covered in black lacquer and the ornamentation was simple but exquisite.
“It may look like the real thing, but it’s just a very well-made bamboo sword. They’ll give you one soon, it’s what identifies us as Monastery trainees. As for the decorative jewels, Evergreens have black ones, and white is for Saplings. For your generation, I think it’s supposed to be green. You should keep it with you at all times and, no matter what, never lose it.”
It was part of their duties as trainees to return their Ornamented Blade to the Monastery when they left. Hence why, if anyone lost it, they were summarily kicked out no matter the circumstances. “If you manage to overcome the Trial of Storm and are chosen for the Yamauchi Guard, however, you’ll be given the real blade in exchange.” 
After they thanked him, Ichiryuu returned the Blade to its original spot with practiced ease. “Once you wake up, there’s always morning training. We eat after that. Both breakfast and lunch are made for us, so you just have to go and pick up a tray but, once you’re done, you’ll have to clean it yourself. Seeds stay behind afterwards to arrange the desks for their own lectures.”
Lectures took up most if not all morning classes. After lunch, however, it was all practical courses. “As for the dojo, whoever uses them last has to clean them up. Dinner is prepared in turns by the different dormitory halls. Turn assignments are hung at the dining hall’s entrance at the start of every month, so make sure to check them out.”
Unless there was some sort of night training session, which wasn’t common, there were no classes after dinner. Did that mean there was nothing to do, then? To that question, the answer was no.
“You’ll be getting plenty of homework. Until you get used to it, expect to be very busy keeping up with lectures. You may even need to skip sleep. There are study groups, however, and some seniors organize training sessions on weapons that aren’t covered by our classes. You can join those once you grow comfortable with the workload.”
During the tour, Ichiryuu also showed them to the biggest hall in the Monastery. Deep in the massive room with wooden flooring, there was a huge altar, hidden away by bamboo curtains. Yamagami, the Mountain God of Yamauchi, was lavishly enshrined there. The ceiling, supported by endless pillars, was so tall that it was a struggle to look up to it. From there hung a sublime canopy of gold.
Initially, the Unbending Reed Monastery was a temple dedicated to Yamagami. It was the reason behind the luxury of its facilities and why its grounds were vast enough to include a swimming pond and even a grove of trees the trainees used for practical training. 
Their tour went on until dusk, as Shigemaru and Yukiya followed Ichiryuu through the enormous premises. Once it was time, however, they headed straight to the dining hall, where most trainees were already gathered.
Huge containers full of warm rice and pots filled to the brim with steamed vegetables and chicken dumplings awaited them in a corner of the room. Following Ichiryuu’s instructions, Shigemaru and Yukiya each took a set of trays(4) and utensils from the piles lying alongside the wall and proceeded to fill them with as much food as they could actually eat.
The three of them settled down in a circle in an empty spot among the other chattering trainees. They clapped their hands, said their blessings, and finally started to eat.
The meat dumplings were so juicy they leaked when one bit into them. The oily liquid had a golden tint and tasted like glory, with a flavor only achievable by boiling in large quantities. It was delicious, and Shigemaru simply couldn’t have enough of it: he had flown the entire way to the Monastery, after all. He devoured all his food with great enthusiasm, aided as he was by his empty stomach.
It all happened once they were putting aside their trays after dinner.
A group of seniors, most likely Evergreens given their apparent age, suddenly came in with a bunch of packages in hand. From them came the unmistakable, delicious aroma of sake. Apparently, it was tradition to hold a welcome party for the newcomers and so they had taken it upon themselves to go out to buy the alcohol and appetizers.
The seniors took care of all the preparations, setting up the entire party and refusing any help from some offering newcomers. The Evergreens busied themselves with hearing out some very nervous new arrivals as the Saplings efficiently moved around the room and made sure to distribute everything.
Finally, once everyone had a cup of sake in their hands, one of the Evergreens stood up to talk, aided by a push on the back from a friend. “To all newcomers, congratulations on joining the Monastery. We welcome you! There won’t be any time for fun from tomorrow onwards, so it’s our wish for you to enjoy the atmosphere at least for today.”
“However, you’ll have an awful time tomorrow if you get actually drunk! Be careful if you aren’t used to it.”
“There’s no way you can get drunk from this little.”
“Now, now. Don’t be spoilsports, let them drink all they can!”
Despite the constant interruptions from the sitting Evergreens’ banter, a toast followed soon after and, at last, everyone got to enjoy their drinks. Shigemaru, who had promptly finished his cup in one go, busied himself with chatting with his fellow newcomers and the seniors in his immediate area.
However, just a while later, the newcomers’ self-introductions started in earnest.
By that point, most were sober or slightly drunk at most, but a few were already wasted: their faces were completely red and they were incapable of properly articulating anything. The mood was quite good thanks to the sake, so laughter often found itself mixed in between the newcomers’ attempts to share their names, places of origin and reasons for joining the Monastery.
As soon as they were done, they returned to their seats with a bow and, immediately after, another newcomer close by would stand up to take their place.
“I’ve been assigned to the tenth room, second building. I’m Yukiya and I’m from Taruhi in the North.” Finally, Yukiya’s turn came. The boy, who had been sitting beside Shigemaru until that point, spoke without any hesitation. “My uncle used to be part of the Yamauchi Guard, so I’ve heard all about how hard the training here is ever since I was a little kid. I don’t know whether I'll be able to keep up, but I’ll do my best. Pleased to meet you all.”
As far as self-introductions went, Yukiya’s truly was the very epitome of average and unremarkable. An unenthusiastic applause followed it, after which Yukiya tried to sit back down with him. But, at that moment, someone else raised their voice. 
“Wait! What about your reasons for joining the Monastery?” the boy outright protested, oddly enough.
The one who spoke out was a boy with reddish brown hair, and Shigemaru couldn’t help but gasp when he saw his face. He was incredibly handsome, with the kind of looks you rarely if ever saw back in the countryside. To Shigemaru, it was like having the chance to admire some rare unusual creature in the wild.
Yukiya, however, faced the other boy without giving any hint of being surprised or impressed at all.
“Well, I don’t really have a reason worth mentioning, you see. My only desire is to become a splendid Guard and work to protect Yamauchi.”
“To protect Yamauchi? Is that truly all there’s to it?” the boy asked once again, plain incredulity painted all over his stunning face.
Seemingly unbothered by the strange demands, Yukiya visibly blinked.
“...... Excuse me, may I know who you are?”
“My name is Akeru. I’m Akeru of the Western House.”
The instant the red-haired boy introduced himself, gasps of surprise filled the dining hall in what quickly developed into a ruckus. So that’s him! they whispered to each other. Even Shigemaru, an authentic country bumpkin, knew just how powerful and important the Western House was even within the nobility.
In practice, the lands of Yamauchi were governed by the Four Houses, the highest ranking of the noble families. The Eastern, Southern, Western and Northern Houses each had control over the territory in their respective cardinal direction. They were said to descend from the First Golden Raven’s four children. Any member of the aristocracy, and this included the Center nobles, who held power in the Imperial Court had sworn allegiance to one of them. There were virtually no exceptions to this rule.
Akeru, as a scion of the Western House, one of these powerful families, therefore held one of the highest ranks among any young boy in the entire country.
“Oooh! So you are the oh-so-famous favorite of His Highness Wakamiya,” someone else interrupted in a mocking tone.
Shigemaru turned his head in the voice’s direction. There was a senior reclining arrogantly, surrounded by his followers. Despite being a Sapling, he had remained seated the entire time, even as others worked tirelessly to organize the party. 
He was not Akeru, that much was certain, but he still had a beautiful face. His features were noble, unified by a nicely-sculpted hooked nose. His shoulders were wide and he was noticeably taller than his fellow Saplings, with unusually long arms and legs. Despite his above average looks, in his eyes was blatant contempt towards others, which made him the kind of man that most don’t want to get involved with.
“And you are?” a perplexed Akeru asked.
The senior’s eyes glistened in defiance. “Kimichika of Minami-Tachibana.”
In response, Akeru let out a small ‘oh’, as if that had just explained it all. His eyes turned to pierce back at Kimichika. “Your reputation precedes you.”
“I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but here I’m your senior. So you better be careful when opening your mouth.” Kimichika stood up, all puffed up, and returned Akeru’s gaze with arrogance. “I cannot care less whether you were Wakamiya’s close aide or whatever, and it doesn’t even matter here. You’ll have a bad time if you keep up with the big attitude.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Oh, if that’s how you want to take it, for sure. I mean, Wakamiya? Imagine being scared of that simpleton.”
“You can say whatever you want about me, but I won’t tolerate any insult to His Highness,” Akeru frowned and, all of a sudden, turned towards Yukiya. “What are you just standing there for? Shouldn’t you be saying something too, Lord Yukiya?”
Yukiya, who had so far been watching them with concern on his face, was rather confused. He obviously didn’t expect to be brought into the conversation. “Erhm, excuse me? I don’t really get what this entire conversation is all about, you see, so it’s not like I have much to say…”
His floundering, however, did little else than deepen Akeru’s frown. 
“....... You realize he’s insulting His Highness Wakamiya, right?”
Yukiya remained silent, yet something about him changed the very moment he heard that question. Deep annoyance burned deep within his eyes. He had an answer, Shigemaru realized, but that didn’t mean he wanted to give it. 
And so, Shigemaru couldn’t bring himself to stay out of the conversation any longer.
“Well, no matter how much you ask, people like us won’t have much to say about that.”
In a second, the entire room turned to stare daggers at Shigemaru. Why are you opening your damn beak, you ignorant fool?
“Nice to meet you, my name is Shigemaru. I share rooms with Yukiya and, like him as well, I’m from the Northern Region,” Shigemaru stood up and soon placed his hand on a shocked Yukiya’s shoulder. “My turn wouldn’t come no matter how long I waited, so I’ll take it nevertheless. Much like my friend here, I came to the Monastery with the goal of protecting Yamauchi and, as someone with similar circumstances, I must say that answering Lord Akeru’s question is impossible.”
Shigemaru’s tone was joking, and Akeru was left at a loss. “Why?”
“I mean, it’s not like us country bumpkins have even had the chance to meet those in the Imperial Family. You can’t judge a Yatagarasu you haven’t even met, at least not from what others say about them.”
Akeru was speechless, and he wasn’t the only one. Kimichika too seemed to have been caught off-guard by Shigemaru’s carefreeness as he muttered., “And who do you think you’re going to swear fealty to when you graduate?”
“I don’t even have a way to know that, do I? That’s a problem I’ll face three years from now,” Shigemaru laughed nonchalantly. “And, before that, I have to work hard to become strong and skilled enough to even be chosen for the Guard. I’ve heard our destinations are chosen according to our results, so I don’t know who I’ll be serving among the Imperial Family. Not like I care about who or where I serve as long as I can work for Yamauchi.”
Shigemaru’s argument was truly the simplest thing ever, yet it silenced the entire hall for quite a long while. Finally, someone broke into long-held laughter, an Evergreen who had been limited to listening until then. Just like that, the tense mood dissolved into nothing.
“Now, now, he actually got a point there. I’m with Shigemaru!”
“Looks like this year we got a new fun guy!”
“Kimichika, go back to your seat. We got sake for once, let’s not ruin it,” another Evergreen soon intervened.
Kimichika, who had been looking at Shigemaru with venom in his eyes, reticently closed his mouth. Akeru too decided to back off. He was obviously displeased with how everything played out, and his followers were busy trying to appease him.
Once the self-introduction picked up again and everything was back to normal, Shigemaru sat back in his original spot.
“Thank you, Shige(5),” Yukiya whispered to him.
“Don’t worry about it,” Shigemaru waved his hand as if it was nothing.
Finally getting to relax, he extended his hand to get himself a snack. However, right at that moment, Ichiryuu returned to their spot with a scowl.
“You two, come with me now.”
Immediately, Ichiryuu dragged them both out of the dining hall.
Their destination was, apparently, the Monastery’s bathhouse.
“Now this is the best!”
“It’s truly nice, isn’t it?”
It was, in fact, the biggest one Shigemaru had ever seen. Yukiya and he had finally gotten inside the bathtub, both relishing the chance to relax, when Ichiryuu brusquely opened the door from the washing area.
“Just how happy-go-lucky are you two!?” he yelled at them as he came in. “Why do you think I went through the trouble of dragging you two out of the party!? Because the Evergreens told me to!”
Ichiryuu kept on ranting, not even giving them a chance to answer. “They warned me: ‘make sure to teach them fast, before they end up starting something worse!’ That scared me shitless!” 
“Did we even have an option? I didn’t start it, you know, that young lord of the Western House came after me,” Yukiya protested, clearly fed up with the entire situation.
Ichiryuu quickly recoiled at that, switching targets. “What about you, Shigemaru!?” 
“Shige was just trying to help me. He knows nothing about Imperial Court politics, what other option did he have? Besides, I wonder: is it truly right for you to go and blame him for helping when you didn’t even try? Huh, Sapling Ichiryuu?” Yukiya attacked back, all prickliness.
Ichiryuu’s only answer was a pained groan. This was clearly escalating.
“..... Did I mess up anything?” Shigemaru asked meekly.
“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Despite the dark environment, he could still feel Yukiya softly laugh. “It’s all just worthless Imperial Court power struggles.”
Huh, thinking about it, why does Yukiya know so much about that sort of thing? Shigemaru wondered. Yukiya seemed to notice it.
“Well, you see, to be honest,” he explained to him as he scratched his head bashfully, “I didn't really explain myself properly before, but I’m, like Ichiryuu, the son of a Township Lord. Taruhi’s second son, to be more precise. On top of that, I was on Court service until not that long ago.”
“Oh, so that explains it!”
Yukiya’s demeanor was strangely sophisticated for someone from the countryside, so it all made sense to him. The feather robe may have initially misled Shigemaru, but Yukiya was still a nobleman. A rural one, but a noble nevertheless.
“Now, talking about that, you are probably way better suited than me to explain this entire mess to him. Will you?” Ichiryuu suggested.
“Fine then,” Yukiya repositioned to face Shigemaru, “Shige, do you know anything about the inheritance conflict from 10 years ago? The one to decide who would take the position of the Crown Prince: His Highness Wakamiya or his older brother—Lord Natsuka.”
Yukiya fully shifted into explanation mode. In answer, Shigemaru just shook his head.
“Just rumors, not any details.”
Until very recently, people in the Center fought over who should inherit the throne and become the next Golden Raven: the elder or the younger brother. That much he had heard about, as it was a Yamauchi-wide problem. That aside, he only knew that, at some point, they had settled on Wakamiya as the future Golden Raven.
“But, well, the rumors at least said that the imperial brothers really didn't get along…….”
“Oh, that's not true, actually. This may sound strange, I know, but their relationship is actually excellent. I would dare even say it’s the opposite: Lord Natsuka is a surprisingly dedicated and loving brother as far as I’ve seen.”
Just as surprising was Yukiya’s way of speaking, it was as if he knew them both personally. He went on to tell Shigemaru the actual reason the Court settled on Wakamiya as the Crown Prince, despite the Imperial Family upholding primogeniture: it was all Animiya's doing.
“For starters, the reason His Highness Wakamiya became the Crown Prince in the first place was because the imperial priests declared him a ‘True Golden Raven’.”
The Golden Ravens were the leaders of all Yatagarasu, and were further divided into ‘Acting’ and ‘True’ Golden Ravens. Within those two categories, ‘True Golden Ravens’ were said to be born rulers, possessing everything and anything they would ever need to govern Yamauchi. When one was born, he got to inherit the throne regardless of birth order or his mother’s station.
Only in the absence of one was the eldest brother to take over the position as a replacement. Those who ruled in their stead were therefore referred to as ‘Acting Golden Ravens’.
“We call both Golden Ravens, but you could say that the rightful ruler, the True Golden Raven, and his Acting replacements are entirely different figures. It was the priests who determined that His Highness Wakamiya was, in fact, a ‘True’ one.”
“Wait a moment,” Shigemaru said, hand on his forehead. “In short, that means the older brother gave up his position as Crown Prince to his younger brother because of his status as the ‘True’ Golden Raven, is that correct………?”
“Yes, exactly.”
According to Natsuka himself, to have a replacement was pointless when the real one existed. He was a just man and had never been the ambitious sort to begin with, so Natsuka had been perfectly content giving up the position to his brother once he knew he matched the legends.
However, not everyone was happy with his decision.
“Oomurasaki no Omae, the Empress, couldn't bring herself to accept that—she's Lord Natsuka's mother, you see. She's the legal wife and hails from the Southern House. Meanwhile, His Highness Wakamiya's mother was a concubine from the Western House.”
A long, long time had passed since the last time a ‘True Golden Raven’ had even been born, a fact that played a key part in the Southern House's adamant refusal to accept the situation. On the other hand, the Western House welcomed this development with open arms. Hence, the Imperial Court was divided into the Wakamiya Faction and the Animiya(6) Faction, even though it went against Natsuka’s own wishes.
“The South supports Animiya and the West, Wakamiya. This is why they are opposed to each other and, for some reason, it seems like their conflict is affecting even a place like the Unbending Reed Monastery. Did I get that right?”
Yukiya gave a pointed look to Ichiryuu, as if fishing for information.
“That’s right, yes,” a clearly exhausted Ichiryuu replied, “I think you have realized this much already, but Kimichika is a South-affiliated Court Raven.”
“And Akeru is a scion of the Western House, remember? So, Kimichika belongs to the Animiya Faction and Akeru to Wakamiya’s.”
“Argh, what an annoying mess!” Shigemaru exclaimed.
Maybe because of the sudden explanation, but he couldn't make any sense out of it. “So, let’s put it like this. There is a wife and her son, who is his father’s heir. Said father owns a lot of fields, but he cheated on his wife and secretly had a lover and yet another son somewhere else. This second son is truly gifted, however, so the legitimate heir wants to give up the fields to his brother. The wife absolutely refuses, and so her family and the lover’s family have somehow also gotten involved and it's all a complete mess. Did I get it right?”
For a second, Yukiya and Ichiryuu stood there in complete silence.
“That’s quite the way to put it…”
“It is, yes… but he is not wrong, really. So, using Shige's metaphor, Kimichika belongs to the wife's family, and Akeru to the lover's.”
“Good. I finally got it,” Shigemaru said.
“Now, whatever you do, avoid both of them as much as you can,” Ichiryuu insisted. “They’ll only give you trouble. To not approach what you can avoid is wisdom.”
“I have to agree. As long as they don't come after us, it's probably better to give them a wide berth,” Yukiya added.
“Well, now that this matter is resolved, I'm getting out of here. I can't believe you two are here like it’s nothing.” As Ichiryuu said that, he stood up with a stagger. It was only upon watching him go that Shigemaru realized that he himself was also entirely covered in sweat.
Refreshed after their bath, they all returned together to their shared room. In preparation for the following day, they started to set up the room as soon as they arrived. A worn-out screen, covered in repair marks, was soon placed in the center of the room, dividing it in two halves. The one further back was for Ichiryuu, while Shigemaru and Yukiya shared the half facing the entrance. Their futons, thin from much use, were all piled together in a corner. The three of them chatted as they arranged them.
After a while, the conversation turned back to their reasons to come to the Monastery.
“I also wanted to ask you about it, actually. Especially you, Yukiya,” Ichiryuu peeked through the screen. “I completely missed the chance to ask you earlier. You said that you didn’t want to ever come to the Monastery, didn’t you?”
Ichiryuu gave him a sour look as he said that. Shigemaru, surprised by the revelation, also turned to look at Yukiya, who shrugged bashfully.
“That’s true, yes. I once thought I would actually die if I ever joined the Monastery, and that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the training. I hated the idea so much, in fact, that I chose to go to the Court over the Monastery when that choice was forced upon me.”
“Then, why did you even come here?”
“I couldn't remain a spoiled child, not after last summer.”
‘Last summer’. Shigemaru and Ichiryuu both instantly straightened their faces.
“...... When the ‘Monkeys’ attacked,” Ichiryuu muttered.
Yukiya nodded, silent.
Unimaginable fear assailed all the Yatagarasu in Yamauchi that summer. The incident took place in small border settlements: Monkeys attacked and murdered all inhabitants. There were no survivors in any of them. At first, nobody knew why they did it or where they had come from. However, it soon became clear that their Yatagarasu victims were nothing more than food to their assailants. Those giant Monkeys had assaulted their villages to eat them. 
Legends said that Yamauchi was protected by a barrier created by Yamagami, the God of the Mountain. They had never before suffered any kind of outside attack because of it. These unprecedented events shook everyone in Yamauchi to their very core.
The Imperial Court frantically searched for the Monkeys’ invasion route. A while later, they found out about ‘passages’ in the barrier that had, most likely, allowed the Monkeys to enter Yamauchi. Once they successfully blocked them all, the Imperial Court released an official announcement declaring the problem solved: the Monkeys wouldn’t ever be capable of returning to Yamauchi.
“However, those are simply the central nobles’ vain, silly hopes,” Yukiya argued, not mincing any words in the process, “‘For now, we have closed every hole we have found, so it would be nice if the monkeys don't ever return’. That's all it amounts to. Apparently, their aim was to keep the population calm and avoid an even bigger upheaval, but that way you only get them to lower their guards and ruin their chances at self-defense. To declare everything solved haphazardly like that just hurts us in the end.”
Yukiya’s irritation was palpable as he spoke. He seemed to be extremely bright, which made for quite the contrast with the easygoing, head-empty attitude he had kept up until that moment. 
“Oh, I see now, so that's what you meant by ‘protecting Yamauchi’! You too came here to fight off the Monkeys, then.”
“Well, yes, that's the gist of it,” Yukiya answered Shigemaru before further adding., “We can't leave it all up to the Imperial Court, after all.”
As if he had just realized something, Yukiya then glanced at him. “Wait, ‘you too’...?”
“Yes. I came here for the same reason as you, really. I didn't really get to mention it earlier, but I was actually born and raised in Sazaki, Shimaki.”
“... Sazaki!” As expected of fellow Northerners, Yukiya and Ichiryuu’s reactions were striking.
“No way, by Sazaki, you mean that Sazaki, right? ——The one that the Monkeys attacked,” Ichiryuu whispered in horror.
Shigemaru nodded. Two villages were raided by the Monkeys: Sugou in Taruhi, and Sazaki in Shimaki. Compared to Sugou, where the entire settlement was annihilated, Sazaki had it slightly better: only one house, away from everyone else's, was affected.
Everyone focused on Sugou when the topic of the Monkeys’ victims came up, but what happened in Sazaki had been just as terrifying for the locals: they knew that, if things had played out ever so slightly differently, they could have been the Monkeys’ food instead.
“We called the place the Monkeys attacked the ‘lower quarters’.”
It was an old house and, from what he knew, originally the main building of an entirely different village. Once the old commercial route went out of use, however, their population quickly dwindled and, as time passed, only the so-called ‘lower quarters’ remained. They had recently become more or less self-sufficient, from what it seemed, so they didn't have that much contact with Sazaki’s other inhabitants.
“That summer, the Township Lord sent us a notice, asking us to confirm that everyone was safe in the area. I can hold my own in a battle, at least by countryside standards, so I was sent to check the situation there.”
What Shigemaru found in the lower quarters was a veritable bloodbath.
Everyone there had vanished. Endless amount of flies fluttered around as the stench of the horses’ rotting corpses, still trapped in the stables, filled the air.
The edges of the house’s hearth were dyed black. By what, he couldn't really tell at first glance. At least, until he found all those pearly white bones scattered all over the place. With them came the realization: those dark stains were what remained of a sea of blood.
He may not have been particularly close to them, but they weren’t strangers either.
However, at the moment, what had worried Shigemaru the most was the safety of that young boy he had just met the other day. He ran through the entire house, calling for him. Eita, where are you!? Then, in one corner of the house, he found it.
The wide wooden floor was covered in dark stains, as if ink had spilled all over the place. There, in the middle of all that blood, was one tiny, all-too-familiar spinning top.
——He wouldn’t ever forget what he felt that day.
Neither Yukiya nor Ichiryuu said anything. They must have noticed Shigemaru's odd silence, and didn’t press him for details. Finally, he sighed and gave them a bitter smile.
“So, well, that’s why I'm here.”
Shigemaru had been invited by Monastery associates over and over again, being asked if he wouldn't at least consider taking the entrance exams. He ignored them all, as he had never felt the need to do so. He truly believed that he could handle most anything all by himself. After witnessing the Monkeys’ massacre, however, he came to realize how truly naive he had been.
“So, you wanted to further improve your battle skills for self-defense, I take it?” Ichiryuu’s expression was severe, different from anything before. He seemed to realize how personal this was to Shigemaru.
“Not really,” Shigemaru denied. “No matter how much I train myself, it's not like I could do anything worth a damn if a large number of Monkeys were to ever attack. Besides, learning that these ‘Passages’ are in the Center made me realize something. That, if I truly wanted to protect what I love, I couldn't just stay there, swinging around some club in front of my house. To be honest, it's not like I even know right now what I can achieve as a Yamauchi Guard either.”
But, at the very least, it beat staying home practicing with sticks. He didn't want to ever be in the position of picking up a bloodied toy with his very own hands. Not again.
“I truly couldn't stand the idea of regretting it all later. If something like that were to ever happen again, to find myself thinking——‘I should have joined the Guard’; ‘if only I hadn't been self-complacent, maybe, maybe I could have done something’.”
The realization came to him at the very last moment, a few months from losing his chance forever. He found himself quite fortunate for that.
“Yes, I get exactly what you mean,” Yukiya muttered softly, and yet, for some reason, his expression was one of pure, undiluted joy. “I'm so glad we became friends, Shige. Let's become Guards together, no matter what.”
However, Shigemaru couldn't really share Yukiya's optimism.
“But,” he looked up at the ceiling, “honestly, I was in the very last place at the entrance exams for theory courses. Can someone like me even graduate?”
The moment Yukiya heard that, he burst out in merry laughter.
“Don’t worry, I'll help you out! Theory won’t be any problem.”
—————————————
1: The commercial roads are the main paths that connect the Center with the countryside. A lot of big settlements are built around them to provide for merchants. Sometime ago, the “old” ones were replaced with newly built ones that followed another route. The villages reliant on them struggled and became smaller and much more isolated.
2: Shigemaru’s little brothers call him 茂兄, or Shige-nii. Brother Shige, but said in a very affectionate way, essentially.
3: The original term for Ornamented Blade is 珂仗 (Kajou). It’s a wordplay on 儀仗 (Gijou), the word for ‘ceremonial weapon’. 珂 is a kanji for ‘jewel’ that doesn’t see that much modern use.
4: These trays are actually 食膳, four-legged trays that were used instead of tables in ancient East Asia. Dining tables weren’t in use back in the Heian era Yamauchi mostly resembles.
5: The specific way Yukiya calls Shigemaru is 茂さん, or Shige-san.
6: Much like Nazukihiko is referred to as Wakamiya (若宮, or ‘young imperial’), his siblings have similar titles. Natsuka’s is Animiya, 兄宮, or the ‘elder brother imperial’. For consistency sake, I’ll be keeping all -miya titles.
35 notes · View notes
eliotlime · 2 days ago
Text
End of October Update
There's got to be a less clunky way for me to title these things but maybe I'll figure it out after a few posts.
Anyway at the top of the order I want to say that uh... the Abacelsus zine is not happening by halloween unforch.. I just started school part-time and it being part-time is still kicking my ass! So tentative release date will be on 11th November unless something else happens....
Tumblr media
On the plus side I'm done with the cover so all that's left is the back page and cramming all 24 pages full of drawings 👍
-> As I've said at the end of my previous post I want to make more blog style posts so here's me trying to do that, more under the cut
🔐Abacelsus Zine
Tumblr media
I'm still deciding on whether i want to print it A5 or B5 but I'm leaning towards A5, though for the digital release it doesn't really matter lol
As mentioned, I'm done with the main cover so I just need to fill this entire thing with stuff, I said 24 pages but really the total page count is 30. I'm just not counting the cover and the blurb stuff.
I'm half taking a break with this at the risk of burning myself out and half paralysed with starting it. Plus I've kind of been more into Axl & I-no hilariously but I'll always love A.B.A. I think the lack of any real info really lends her well to interpretation which is always fun.
I've never really been one to engage in fandom so I'm probably going to be doing my own thing. That being said if anyone has any suggestions feel free to drop them in my strawpage or ask box :)
🥤 Strawpage & General Socials
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The bugs make my pages so decorative, I gotta draw more bugstyle guys.
Speaking of strawpage, I made one of those! It was really fun, I have a short OC info tab with descriptions of some of my main guys. I'd love for you to check it out.
This kind of acts as my ask box for twitter since there's not one there and apparently it's basically my main social media site these days so I'm just mirroring my experience here over there too.
Hilarious timing considering that it's basically collapsing on itself once again, I'll probably still be on that damn site until it implodes but I also have a Bluesky account for those that care about it.
Tumblr media
The sky follower bridge extension is really useful for bulk following people from twitter to bsky
I'd love to post there more but there's not a queue function and that's very important to me as someone who is not American and lazy to remember optimal timings.
Did you see? I also have a new pinned for this blog! Wanted to make a new one for a while now, always thought the old one was so freaking long. All the old info is still on my about and faq page though I don't know who actually looks at those.. a relic from years past..
☹ School
Sigh, like I mentioned earlier I'm doing school again! At my big age, but I'm having fun so far! It's part-time but it's still kicking my fucking ass! It's the main reason why I'm a little disoriented this month honestly.
Tumblr media
Do you like it? I spent an entire Sunday making my class miro board look niceys and then proceeded to get nauseous from cybersickness afterwards LOL
I'm doing a UI/UX course and I have to say the funnest part about it is making personas, it's like making OCs. Don't particularly like writing though.. but also that's a lie considering the numerous amount of paragraphs in this blog post alone haha
🎁 Merch
I've also gotten confirmation that I'll be boothing again next year in Febuary! So I gotta start locking into making more stickers and general merch. I say this a lot but I do need to look into opening an online store because I just have tonnes of stickers and stuff lying around waiting till the next time I do a convention which is kind of a shame.
Oh, but I will say that if you are from Singapore and would like anything from my previous convention catalogue feel free to shoot me a DM on instagram and I can mail it to you locally, shipping's $2 SGD.
➰Closing Thoughts
All in all, been kind of busy this month with school and various loose threads from September but overall I think I'm doing better! I've also been cooking lately and truthfully that's my biggest achievement this month haha, been also getting really into canned fish. Yummy!
Oh and a last thing is that I've been itching to animate again so I'll end this post with a WIP of a gif I did last night/morning. I almost always never finish my animations but here's hoping this one actually makes it to the colouring stage haha
Tumblr media
No prizes to anyone who can guess who these two because of course.
Thank you for reading! I know I can't expect everything to be done in a single month but I just wish I could do everything without getting tired or cybersick! If you'd like to support me, here's my ko-fi page and my itchi.io & gumroad as well.
If you have any questions or just generally want to talk to me, my DMs and askbox is always open! Any professional enquires can be sent towards my email as well: [email protected]
XOXO, Stay weird!
-Eliot :)
24 notes · View notes
yeowangies · 2 days ago
Text
Sweet and knowing
Tumblr media
PAIRING: Broly/AFAB!Reader. CONTENTS: Masturbation, Voyeurism WORDCOUNT: 776
Summary:
Broly sees you everyday from outside your window. You don’t even know you’re being watched, you just go on with your life. He was positive he’d never seen anyone more attractive.
Notes:
KINKTOBER DAY 14: MASTURBATION & VOYEURISM
So there's no dialogue in here, but I thought it was fitting considering what's going on here cause... well idk skjdgnk this is something i've been meaning to write for a while and i had fun so i hope you guys enjoy 💖
@actuallysaiyan @carnal-lnstinct (I think you will like this!)
divider by @/adornedwithlight
Tumblr media
Broly sees you everyday from outside your window. You don’t even know you’re being watched, you just go on with your life, beautifully moving around your room as if you were floating; it seemed even more so when you wore dresses and skirts. He was positive he’d never seen anyone more attractive.
It was a funny reaction to feel his cock harden inside his pants the first times he saw you undress. He didn’t believe he could get an erection so fast and so painful. He’d die if he didn’t touch himself. 
Since then, Broly would have the urges to jerk off, and he did it every time. His orgasms washed over him quickly, desperately, staining his clothes with the copious amount of cum spilled. He could somehow control himself after a few days, instructing himself to hold on, as he knew when he was going to see you undress, undress only for him to watch (even when you didn’t know it).
Was what he was doing wrong? He didn’t really know. He hadn’t been around too many people, especially people. Cheelai was the only woman he had interacted with, and he never felt the urge to observe her naked body. 
It was different with you. 
Broly particularly liked dresses on you. Whenever you put them on, or slip off them, it was so smooth, the fabric just sliding down your skin, like caressing it so softly. Would it feel as soft as it looked if he were to touch you? Even when the sun shined through your window and hit your body, there didn’t seem to be any flaw in you. You were curves and smooth flesh, jiggly in certain places that demanded his attention. 
It was especially hard whenever you wore tight dresses; that particular night, the dress was so tight, with a color that complimented your skin, that he wasn’t sure what was worse, seeing you naked, or like that. 
Hidden in the darkness of the trees outside your place, Broly pulled down his pants to free his cock, hard and leaking even if you weren’t even naked. He took his sweet time, watching you walk around the room, as if you were floating. Tempting him, if he didn’t know better. He wasn’t even completely sure of what to do if he were to have you all for himself; he had a very basic, instinctual idea of sex. He was positive he would lose himself if he indulged in your alluring body even once.
With a tight grip and forceful tugs, he jerked off, smearing precum all over his cock, as he watched you gracefully take off your shoes, slowly undoing your hair. His dick throbbed when you let the straps of your dress fall down your arms, muscles tensing in his lower abdomen when you reached behind you to pull down the zipper. 
Ragged breathing, mind getting hazier, Broly squeezed the head of his cock, wondering what it’d be like if it were your hand touching him. Your hand would be so much more delicate than his, he probably wouldn’t even fit in your grip, knowing how small you are compared to him. He would come nonetheless, spilling his load all over your hand. Staining the dress you were wearing. 
When you slipped off of it, he grunted, loud and deep, as he saw you weren’t actually wearing any underwear. It was like you were calling for him, enticing him with something he didn't know he could have at all. But just looking at you, picturing what it’d be like to touch you, smell you, taste you, was enough. 
It only took a few pumps of his hand before Broly reached his peak, squeezing his eyes shut, muscles tensing in his lower abdomen as he let out one of the most animalistic growls he had ever produced. Sticky with cum, he kept his fist around his cock as he caught his breath, unfocused eyes looking for you again. 
You weren’t there anymore, probably left the room the second he had closed eyes. With a sigh, he wiped his hand on his clothes, readjusting his pants, before he caught your figure in the corner of his eyes. 
You had opened the back door of your place and were currently standing in the doorway, still as naked as you had been when you were in your bedroom. 
When your gaze met his, he stood still, unsure of what to do, but he didn’t look away. When you smiled at him, sweet and knowing, before turning away and leaving the door completely open. His heart jumped in his chest as he urgently walked your way. 
23 notes · View notes
flightfoot · 8 hours ago
Text
Miraculous Halloween Fic Recs
It's Halloween, so I figured that people might be in the mood for some spooky, supernatural, or just plain Halloween-related fics! All of these are complete.
--
Herbs And Steam by @liiinerle
Juleka le Flor Blef, nature witch from near the forest of Couffaine, arrives at Eiffel Castle so she can partake in the Queen's Trials - a contest to determine the strongest witch in all of France. She wants to prove the strength of her magic, but when she arrives, her attention is quickly distracted by two very interesting women: Kagami, the princess, who seems to act nothing like a princess should; and Marinette, the blacksmith, who has created a magic all her own through metal, steam, and ingenuity. Juleka is immediately besotted with both of them, and needs to work extra hard to focus on her magic. Juleka also soon becomes aware that there is stronger magic at Eiffel castle than she had expected. For one thing, there's a tree in the courtyard put there years ago by a witch whose powers seem to surpass hers; for another, there's Alya la Pluvie Versaunt, who must be the most powerful mage Juleka has ever met...
Unusual poly here, there aren't a lot of Juleka/Kagami/Marinette fics! I love the world here, getting to see all these different witches honing their craft, and Juleka making friends with many of them - though especially the nonwitches Kagami and Marinette, of course XD. If you like some femslash or a good fantasy AU, this fic should scratch that itch!
---
Soul Seeker by hislittlelady
After a shooting on her 6th birthday, Marinette Dupain-Cheng died. She was brought to the afterlife by her grandmother. She was content. Until the paramedics did their jobs and suddenly she wasn’t dead anymore. Waking up to find that half of her soul had remained tethered to the afterlife, allowing her the ability to see things others can’t, Marinette grows up an outcast. It isn’t until she moves in with her only friend, a detective she’s known since preschool, that she finds her purpose, solving his harder cases with the help of her spiritual connections. Three years later, she’s thriving. Her own business, two best friends, a K-9 drop out as a companion- life couldn’t get better. Until she meets Chat. A ghost with amnesia and a mask to match, Chat isn’t sure what he needs to move on to the afterlife (and, considering he’s stuck around for another three years, he doesn’t seem in all that much of a hurry to figure it out either!) When Amelie Agreste, a socialite from out of town, comes to Marinette for help locating her missing nephew, Marinette knows her career and her life will be on the line. But even a murderer intent on silencing her forever can’t keep Marinette from seeking the truth.
This is a really fun detective story. You can probably guess one or two of the major twists (not counting the twist of "Adrien is Chat Noir" which I certainly HOPE isn't a spoiler to anyone reading this), but that doesn't make it any less satisfying, especially with how Marinette's and Chat's relationship is developed. Or well, what interactions we see from them, since they've known each other for years by the time the story starts. I adore the "my friend is a ghost" trope, and the identity shenanigans and mystery around what actually happened to Adrien kept me wondering.
It's an M-rated fic, which I'm guessing is mostly due to an attempted sexual assault at one point in the story, though it doesn't get very far before it's stopped. I also want to warn Luka fans that he's not shown in the best light in this fic, though it's not too extreme.
---
Through Yellow Eyes by @echo-has-queries
"Nooroo bleeds and Paris drowns in his blood." The day of the Blight, Paris bore witness to a horror too grand to comprehend. Only Chloé Bourgeois bore witness to a miracle. Marinette, Alya and the rest of Paris will need more than faith in Gimmi to survive. As the city's sanity hangs by a thread, bodies, minds, and souls are traded with the unknown in order to hold on to the things they each treasure most. Written for the AU Roulette Challenge 2024 with the prompt: Cosmic Horror AU
If you like Cosmic Horror (Lovecraftian I think? Though this isn't really my wheelhouse), then this is the story for you! I love seeing how Paris copes with the madness seeping through its streets, somehow going about daily life despite it all.
Kwamis here are more inhuman, more separated from humanity. There's no cute little miniature form to help bridge the gap. While humans can still meld with kwami, it's not all quite as firmly in the human's control as it normally is, and the side effects are worse. It doesn't help that the kwamis can't fully understand squishy little humans' wants, needs, or morality.
Like, as Ladybug, Marinette can't remember her human name, and her human concerns are somewhat muted. While as Marinette, she can't remember certain aspects of her time as Ladybug, and only regains those memories when she transforms again. She also has to be careful about restoring everything, as she can't just give Tikki a cookie and call it a day. Instead, she herself needs to eat enough to compensate for the lost energy, which can be a substantial portion of the goods in her parents' bakery.
As for Adrien... well, this is still going off of Sentimonster Adrien, though the ritual to create him went differently... and went wrong. But he is still Adrien.
Chloe's interesting as well, she's this sort of priest, this missionary for the kwamis, but her methods are... well, not the best. She still has a bunch of her canonical hangups, even though she IS somewhat helpful.
I love Alya in here, she's just desperately trying to figure out what's going on so that she can try to fix it, especially since Nino's one of the people who's been driven mad by the Blight. She does find some answers, and even ends up being partially responsible for Ladybug's creation and Chat's and Ladybug's subsequent fight against the worst effects of the Blight, but the risks, danger, and side effects she suffers are still significant. Though some of those side effects can be used to her advantage.
Anyway, I really enjoyed this AU and thought it was an interesting take on the subject, I highly recommend checking it out!
---
Centuries Overdue by @rosie-b
Long ago, an evil Darkness spread across Europe, claiming the lives of many in the magic community. Trained by Plagg himself, Adrien made it his mission to stop the Darkness before it snuffed out the lives of more Mages and Talents, as it did to his own parents. Though he seemed to succeed in his mission, the pages of his old journals tell a different tale. In the modern world, Marinette is a fashion student, working at a small library for the summer to earn extra credit. She’s never believed in magic before, but when she finds the old Agreste journals in her library, her beliefs about reality begin to crumble. Determined to find the truth, both about magic and the unsolved death of one Adrien Agreste, Marinette begins on a journey that will eventually lead her deep into the city’s catacombs, where an ancient force sleeps, but is ready to awaken once more…
If you want a nice Magic AU, this is your jam! I slowly became more invested with Adrien's fate as Marinette did, and I loved seeing bits of this magic society. And of course, Adrien and Marinette always find their way to each other, even if Marinette happens to be a few centuries overdue.
---
the monster who loves you by @purplecatghostposts
Mum nods, clapping her hands together. “Your brother is finally feeling better and is coming home today! Isn’t that so exciting?” Félix pauses mid-bite, processing her words. Mum waits expectantly, as if expecting him to jump for joy, or his equivalent of it. But… Félix doesn’t have a brother. (Or Félix’s brother is a monster, but only in the most literal sense. Félix’s father is a monster despite being very, very human. He learns to navigate the world through these two truths.)
I loved how this story emphasized the differences between different kinds of monsters - the type who inhabit horror stories, who look terrifying, and the mundane, human sorts of monsters who are often the most dangerous. And how monsters can choose to act humanely, while humans can choose to act monstrously.
---
See This Chance by @19thsentry-blog
Luka died in 2016. Yep. Crushed by the Arc de Triumph when Mayura’s Robustus slammed into it. It was kind of a big deal, but once you’re dead, you’re dead—especially when there’s no Lucky Charm to bring you back. Luka’s been dealing with it in the typical ways. Written for FeLuka week 2023.
Yes, this is FeLuka. Not one of the typical ships I read, but I ain’t opposed to it, and this is a nice foray into the pairing. I love ghost AUs! Luka’s just fumbling around, unsure what to do with his incorporeal existence, until he starts haunting Felix. It’s an intriguing plot and I gotta admit, I wish it was longer so it could be fleshed out more, but what’s here is good.
---
Attack of the Crystal Zombies by @trainsinanime
Kagami had spent more and more time hanging out with Zoé, talking about things like families, expectations and crushes on Marinette. It was only natural, probably, that she would help Zoé practice flirting. That was definitely a great idea. Granted, the deadly Akuma battle around them was a bit of an issue…
Quality Zoegami fic here! I loved how Kagami kept thinking she was bad at flirting, but it was sure working on Zoe XD. The akuma attack going on around them, interweaving with their conversation, added a bit of spice to the whole affair!
---
Anchor by @liiinerle
“Marinette. Please take that sabre out of your neck.” “Right. Thanks. I forgot it was there.” She grabbed hold of the guard and pulled; the blade slid out like it had only been run through butter. After dropping it on the floor, she picked up one of the teacups and picked up a biscuit from a tin she’d brought in; she placed the biscuit on the saucer plate and handed the whole thing to Kagami, who could only really resign herself to accepting it. —– Marinette has raised Kagami from the dead, and also happens to be dead herself. It turns out some bad choices were made in the past. But that doesn’t mean they’ll lead to bad outcomes for them now.
I love this, Marinette’s incredibly blase about being a zombie - which makes sense, given how long she’s had to get used to the idea. And she’s waited so long, tried so hard to bring Kagami back as well, though if she didn’t WANT to be back, she’d accede to that request. Luckily, Kagami doesn’t seem to mind as long as she’s with Marinette XD.
---
delicate in every way but one by katrinette
When Marinette finds a wanted ad that provokes just enough questions in her mind that she can’t help answering it, the reward is sweeter than she could have imagined.
I love the little bit of worldbuilding we get here about vampire society, and Adrien’s usual awkward adorableness in asking Marinette for a certain necessary favor. It’s always neat to see such familiar characterization in a supernatural setting like this.
---
How Marinette Learned to Stop Worrying And Love The Ball by @rosie-b
Hidden from the crowds thronging around the busy fairy portal in Paris’s town square, a fae gate sits at the edge of the forest, locked, rusty, and full of ancient magic. Marinette thinks that this abandoned gate must not work anymore… but one day, a fairy disguised as a black cat steps through it.
Ah, Fantasy Soulmate AUs, my beloved XD. This ain’t the only one of this fic type I’m gonna be recommending. This is just a cute fluff fic without much strife. I love Marinette and Chat Noir being able to be childhood friends via his visits, even if he has to pretend to be her cat whenever he comes over, and I ESPECIALLY adore Alya being his chaperone and quickly becoming friends with Marinette in her own right. It ain’t a complicated plot, but it is a nice and warm fic.
---
a winter so warm by @rosekasa
winters were hard for even the best of vampires, but at least adrien had marinette to keep him warm with her cuddles. december was going to suck without her. so it was only to be expected to get extra cuddles in before she left, right? (well, not really, considering those heating supplements he was taking, but she didn’t need to know about that).
This one’s mostly just cute cuddly adorableness! It’s basically like all those “Marinette gets the Ladybug trait of needing to cuddle up to someone for warmth”, but with Adrien instead. And of course featuring Marinette being a very talented witch who just wants to help Adrien stay warm when she isn’t there XD.
---
Stitched Together by @nedjsmlfavs
Stitch Witch Marinette was just supposed to be having a nice, terrifying outing with her best friends. She never expected to find a magically trapped kitten, but here we are! Whatever happened to this poor little guy?
Poor Adrien, being transformed and chained up for ages, having no idea that he was gonna be rescued. But at least he got to have fun at Marinette’s place as a cat! 
Most of this fic is adorable, though with some dark undertones lying in wait. After all, SOMEONE chained up that poor little kitty…
---
I Put A Spell On You by dazaimaru
Friday, October 25. 6 days until Halloween.
It’s their first high school Halloween dance, and Marinette and Adrien are ready to throw on some non-superhero costumes for once--that is, until an akumatized witch spoils the party and threatens to reveal what lies underneath everyone’s disguise.
With Hawkmoth taking full advantage of the spooky season, the days leading up to Halloween are certainly going to be thrilling! Especially considering Marinette’s growing feelings for a certain black cat…
This one’s mostly just some really cute Lovesquare shenanigans around Halloween, with some really fun sequences like Marinette and Adrien getting body-swapped and Marinette temporarily becoming a vampire (and also Marinette repeatedly stunning Adrien with her outfits. I was just waiting for him to pass out from blood loss from a nosebleed).
---
don't you worry child by @mexicancat-girl
Marc and Nathaniel have a good life, married and living together in a cottage in the woods. But they consider having children at some point. Marc in particular really wants to start a family with his husband. He knows the fey are real, so he goes searching in the woods to find one to strike a deal. He may get a bit more than he bargained for in the process.
This is based on a tumblr post that’s been going around, which I think a lot of people will recognize as they continue going through the story. That post is credited at the end of the fic, so as not to spoil the plot.
---
The Convention by Peppermint_Shamrock
“Oh, sure, when Ladybug comes up with unusual solutions, it’s “clever” and “inspiring”. But when I do it, it’s “oh no” and “you’re going to get us all killed, Marinette”,” she grumbled. “At least Adrien believes in me.” When an Akuma rages through a comic convention, everyone is forcibly transformed into their own cosplays. Unable to transform into Ladybug, Marinette has no choice but to fight as a civilian alongside her friends. At least she was dressed as her partner. Written for Miraculous Spooktober Day 5 Prompt - Costume Party
---
Ghost of You by its_just_lori
It finally happened. The akuma attacked at the wrong time. They weren't prepared. For the first time, there was a casualty. Someone was killed. Marinette didn't care that her identity was exposed to the world; she couldn't stop blaming herself for what happened. If only she'd been ready... if only she'd done more... There's nothing for Adrien to say. There's nothing he can do other than stay by her side and help her through this pain.
---
The Pink Lady: Marichat May 2018 by @seasonofthegeek
In this story, Chat Noir, Carapace, Rena Rouge, Queen B, and Paon are the heroes of Paris. The Ladybug Miraculous has been lost for almost a century and it takes all of their combined power to cleanse akumas sometimes but they’ve found something that works since they don’t have another option. Hawkmoth is one of their villains, but not the only one plaguing Paris. Chat Noir happens upon an old hotel one night on patrol and discovers something and someone he didn't expect.
29 notes · View notes
tales-of-wocdes · 8 hours ago
Note
How would the caretakers react if the silver protectors are talking about how they keep losing coin and other shiny objects? When they do get around to finding MC they see that they've made a secret room holding a variety of shiny object like the coins, rocks, kitchen utensils and daggers the MC thought were really pretty.
Let's assume dragon heritage for shiny collection :D Just for fun, let's add in the "you can't see me, I can't see you" wing thing.
I assume caretakers mean Lexia and Havard, so I will change it a little bit since I don't think MC could pull off a mass thievery spree without someone noticing :D Not yet at least.
We can consider this a sort of prelude to the end of this ask.
For some reason, this got long :D Let's call it a thank you for 2500+ likes and 100+ re-blogs!
----------------------------------------------------
Guard duty was boring.
"Lots of stuff been going missing lately." Hybert said.
"Really? Is that why I can't find my helmet? We don't usually wear them inside the orphanage, so... Do we have a thief problem?" Kathil asked.
The two of them were guarding the Orphanage main courtyard gate. The one that lead outside. A rather important place... yet boring.
"It would seem so... though the orphanage is very secure." Hybert pondered. "If there are thieves about, does't that mean we failed?"
Before Kathil can answer, a sound like metal clinking against the floor made both Protectors turn.
A small form dashed along the side of the courtyard and to a corridor, covered loosely by their wings. Every once in a while, another clink sounded along the corridor.
There is a trail of coins and other knickknacks trailing after the small figure. A trail clearly leading towards one of the empty rooms.
"It might be a bit simpler than thieves..." Kathil said, "And we probably haven't failed..."
A lot of coin has been going missing, as well as a great many shiny things. Things that are very much like the stuff in that trail.
"Best get the Head Custodian." Hybert said, watching MC keep sneaking not either seeing, or ignoring, the two Protectors.
"Don't be hasty, I wanna see what MC is doing first. And Lexia's face when she finds out." Kathil said.
-----------
"What do you mean MC keeps sneaking off?" Havard asked.
"I mean MC wraps their wings around themselves and then pretends to not see anyone, or that anyone can see them. It is rather adorable." Lexia said with a grin.
Havard rubbed his forehead. "And what does this have to do with the recent thefts?"
"MC keeps taking shiny things, and then "sneaks" though the hallways to an empty room to build a nest full of pretty things. It is rather impressive really, how one tiny kid can gather so many things." Lexia said. "Coins, pieces of armor, half the spoons, forks and knives, some shiny stones, a set of new frying pans." Lexia counted with her fingers.
Havard rubbed his forehead harder. "And how did MC have the time to do all that?" He lifted his gaze to Lexia. "You are watching them, right?"
"Well sure, but I let them sneak away from me every once in a while, since they seem to enjoy doing it... I do follow them but..." Lexia squirmed a bit. "A bit in independence is a big deal for that kid and it is safe inside the orphanage... It's not like there are actual thieves about...." She keeps squirming.
Havard had an idea why. She looked guilty. Which meant...
"You knew." Havard said.
"Well... I...." Lexia took one look at Havard. "OK I knew. It was hilarious. You have no idea the audacity of that kid. Or maybe it's just a lack of common sense? Still, no shiny thing is safe."
"Lexia..." Havard sighed. "It's still theft. You should not allow it."
"I know, I know.. it's just so cute." She sighs. "MC made a nest you know.. or maybe a hoard?"
Havard's eye twitched. A bit. He was curious.... also worried. Lexia had said it included forks and knives? That was not safe.
Havard sighed. "Fine. Show me."
--------------------------------------------------
It was impressive, just as Lexia had said. A hoard.... How did MC get all of it in here?
A hoard of coins, and pieces of armor. A pile. Multiple piles actually, the kitchen utensils had their own. There atop the pile of coins was a small form with wings. MC was watching their piles of treasure. At least MC had left the forks and knives in a separate pile.
How much coin could one child get? True everyone was well paid but still... Thoughts for later.
Bandaged hands clumsily kept arranging a helmet so it shone in the sunlight. MC seemed content.
That was the part that made Havard stop. A content little face as MC admired their treasures. Not afraid or panicked. Not having an episode. Content. Having a good time with something they found pretty.
MC was content... and having fun. MC did probably not even know there was something wrong about taking people's stuff...
He sighed again. Then waved a hand at Lexia to stay. She nodded and smiled. She already guessed what was about to happen.
Havard entered the "hoard room" and walked over to MC. The child spun to look at him...
"Nice hoard." Havard said and smiled. "We need to talk about a few things though."
Havard sat down on the pile of coin.
"You see, there is this concept called stealing....."
---------------------------------------------------
"Heard the Head Custodian talked to our little thief." Kathil said.
"Yeah." Hybert said. "I saw Lexia very amused about something."
"Apparently the kitchen utensils and other important stuff has been returned to their owners. The coin however..."
Hybert turned to look at her. "What about the coin?"
"The kitchen is making and giving out "hoard cookies". If you want your coin back, you need to bring MC cookies in exchange."
"So... we have basically have a cookie based extortion ring, enforced by the Head Custodian?.... Because MC is cute."
"Pretty much yeah."
36 notes · View notes
klodwig · 2 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The time has come for an introduction of our original characters! Yes, I probably should have shown the concepts first, but why, when I can start with Halloween prank comic with them 🥲
Long story short: It all started at the beginning of the year when I decided to try my hand at running DND with my friends. We had no expectations, we just wanted to have fun. It was a new experience for most of our group, and I'm very happy that we've been playing for more than half a year already.
It turned out to be quite difficult to run a DND game. I also wanted to create a master character so that I could also participate in the process. The idea was to create a red-haired alchemist half-elf NPC for 5 games, add a bit of mystery to the plot for my players, and then remove him. But things didn't go according to plan.
I've prescribed the character's personality, which helps me to make the NPC more interesting for all game participants. What I didn't take into account, however, is that a character can actually GET A CRUSH with their own character traits... and it started rolling.
My friend's character is a human warrior (yes, the grim guy with the two-handed sword and zero social skills) who cares about nothing but his own goals. 
During one of the games the situation happens - a human warrior was interrupted from sleep and happened to wake up at the right moment and found himself in a situation in which he was protecting this very NPC from the attacks of the rest of the group. Why the rest of the players decided to attack him - don't ask, it just happened. Annoyed at being disturbed, the warrior decided to beat the crap out of everyone. To onlookers (including the NPC alchemist), though, it looked like he was valiantly stepping in to save the alchemist.
Do you see what it's all heading to? That's right, an instant crash into the biggest buzzkill in all Faerun.
It took quite a while for them to gradually "grinded in" to each other (maybe there'll be time for those stories later when I'm ready, haha). And like any self-respecting game master and the occasional ficwriter, when they finally came together, I brought multiple tragic twists (my friend is still screaming in terror, trust me, I'm really good at coming up with off-the-wall drama). 
Now the story continues, to finally come to a happy ending. But of course, no guarantees I make 😈
So, meet the boys:
Avanti - a red-haired half-elf, a medicine man and alchemist who dreamed of practising magic but had no aptitude for it. Looks like a cinnamon roll - is a cinnamon roll. Is ready to help, even if he is not asked. Goes out into the cold, cruel world to travel, yet retains kindness and naivety, which sometimes let him down.
Ardor - grumpy human warrior with black hair and unbearable attitude. Has issues with his own family, occasionally with alcohol and most often with anger control. His bullheaded nature helps him to survive as an adventurer, but for a long time he couldn't come to terms with the idea that anyone could like him (suspicion and mistrust all the way).
23 notes · View notes
knife-eared-jan · 2 days ago
Text
In case anyone is interested, this is the modding wishlist so far...
The bold ones are what I would very much like to try to have fun with myself, the others are a sobbing plea to the universe for someone to take pity on me bc I figured I probably lack the skills to make them myself.
They're roughly ordered by how desperate I am for them to exist.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
-Remove combat VFX (except mages & bombs reduced) -> sadly this doesn't seem to be part of the accessibility features which are otherwise great, but like, my autistic brain literally fries up with all the flashiness, I'll just meltdown 24/7. If you know how to do this, I would love you 5ever.
-Isabela outfit swap + darker skintone + age-up -> this is terrible in so many ways. Can't believe how they butchered my girl jfc I thought we were done with this type of shit??? (That was the spoiler I saw just now hooo my god). Also, let her be in her 50s pls!
-Morrigan outfit overhaul + hairstyle swap (to 36) -> Free her from the double boobs! Also, her actual hair is basically in the CC, why give her that millenial mum haircut? And again, let her be nearly 50.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
-Qunari face texture edit -> needs no explanation, I bet it will be the most popular mod of the game forever
-Shadow Dragon PJ swap (mage outfit without shoulder pads?) -> it's PJs 2.0 and I don't like it. I guess that's why they gave Inky the same outfit, cause it just really looks like that. I got obsessed with this other one that is essentially the mage outfit sans the shoulder thing. I think that would make a great casual outfit.
-Inquisitor outfit overhaul/swap -> see explanation for the Shadow Dragon PJs. It makes perfect sense as a stand-in for the Inquisition PJs but then my Inkys are never actually subjected to them. Hope there is a Dalish outfit or otherwise a Veil Jumper one, that fits my Lavellan. It would also be fun to craft my own with pieces of different armors from Inquisition and Veilguard maybe.
-Inquisitor prosthetic replacement -> There's lots of different headcanons people have for theirs and it's sad there isn't a slider for different options. I don't even know yet what I'd like myself, but something a little more obviously a prosthetic I think. Or none at all maybe. Just, choices are cool.
-Mourn Watch Rogue armor retexture -> I am apparently the only person on this planet to feel this way, but I loathe the Mournwatch rogue armor - it just gives Joker. Like, I might like it in a TOTALLY different setting, but it does NOT give Thedas at all. Love the controversial mage one though, so I guess i'm just weird.
-Irelin hairstyle swap (to 64) -> to match the hairstyle she had in The Missing that fit her much better. Again, it's in the CC, why didn't they just use it?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
-Solas face texture edit (no orange contour, bigger scar, more freckles?) -> look how orange you are, gurl! Like, I'll live without it, but I am bothered... I bet the creation of his scar comes up in the memories as well, so why is it so smoll.
-Solas retina change to more outer blue -> I get that he's cool and mysterious now, but I liked the blue a lot. just personal preference tho
22 notes · View notes
x-bee-x · 2 days ago
Text
What's this? A fic from me in the DSMP category because there was canon lore? In 2024?
I was watching or getting ready to watch someone else, I had my follower list open at least, and saw Jack was live and there was something about logging onto the server later in his title and wait what. I knew as soon as I updated some friends about said happenings, I muted the Discord channel I sent it in in case people wanted to talk more about it and maybe sent spoilers later, and I was on here very little because I knew even though I'm not 100% in the fandom anymore and certainly not a fan of all the members, I would like to see it for myself. So I watched the vod the next morning and oh my god.
I did not expect to get literal chills the moment he logged on and the first thing we saw was the bench. And I almost cried when we saw Las Nevadas. And I did cry a bit when we saw Tech's house. Regardless of how much I care about the streamers who were part of that as of late, I did at one point, very much so. This was something I did not expect, it was so nostalgic and emotional and actually warmed my heart a bit seeing so many fans come together during and after it happened. This was a really unexpected and lovely way to tie things up, I thought they kind of were already in all areas for me at least, but I think that this was a good way to finally properly say goodbye.
Epilogue
No warnings
1,438 words
Tommy was. Somewhere.
He wakes up he thinks, he opened his eyes at least, running a hand through his blonde curls.
And.
He didn't think he was alone this time. Or well, he wasn't always, Tubbo was there sometimes, but this was a different sort of person feeling.
"H-hello?"
He typed into his communicator for the heck of it.
"Hey."
Jack?
"Wh-where have you fucking been?"
"Casino.
Been here for years mate.
Made loads."
He was.
He was in Las Nevadas?
This whole time. This whole time?
Tommy stood at the top of the hill at the entrance of the faux desert and sure enough.
Someone with one blue and one red eye, a head of buzzed hair with a headset on top, a blue short sleeved hoodie, and camouflage pants stood at the bottom.
"Let me bless you, my boy, it's been too long."
He threw a couple of diamonds at the feet of younger, who probably looked just as puzzled as he felt.
"Jack. Seriously.
What happened?"
"What do you mean? I've just been here. Playing roulette."
This whole time? This whole time.
"Wanna know where I've been?
Come with me."
"Hold on, can't leave on a loss, gotta get that big win."
Jack came out eventually, and they walked out of Las Nevadas and along the Prime Path together, he has somewhere to show him.
"It's good to see you."
"You too, man."
"I've been here."
"Here? Under the bridge?"
"Out in the distance. That way.
I've got a house. It's nice."
"I haven't seen anyone for a loooooong time.
Well, maybe Tubbo, every now and again."
Tommy and Jack walked, or well, Tommy walked, and all the sudden Jack's voice became quieter and quieter somewhere behind rather than beside him.
"Me either, casino's been empty.
Honestly, I just steal money from the safe's to gamble with. I could take it all if I wanted, but the thrill keeps me in there.
Gambler's addiction, they call it. One day I'll win big. 99% of people quit before then.
But not me. I'll make it. It's been years, but, it's coming."
He turned his head to the boy with heterochromia behind him, blonde waves bouncing lightly.
"You're not very good at catching up, are you?"
"Just telling my story, man."
Jack said while he jogged to be once again beside him.
"Never thought I'd be around these parts again. I moved far from here to get away from it.
It brings back too much. Joy, fun, sadness, pain. Too much of all of it.
But it's nice to see a familiar face."
The path they took to get to their destination was familiar, and this time he knew it was safe as well as convenient, no one with a mask he had to worry about being on the other side, or worse yet, chase him.
A bridge of cobblestone among the dark red brick and close to unbearable heat, from one swirling purple transparent gateway surrounded by obsidian to another, and they were spot out onto a soft cold white blanket.
"I don't live around here."
"Oh. I thought that's where we were going?"
"No, god no. Do you know how long it took for me to get back here?
I come here a lot though"
A house, a cabin to be exact, sat the same as them in the nearby distance.
It was cream colored with chestnut colored accents, a matching wooden roof and front door, and a chimney that stood tall and sat bare, no plumes of smoke emitted which once came from it.
"Cool. It's quaint. I like it.
Maybe I'll bye it when I win big!"
Tommy looked to the older boy with two colored eyes beside him, opened his mouth but decided against saying anything, then opened it again to say something after all.
"This is Technoblade's house."
"Oh. Maybe I won't do that then."
"How long do you usually sit here like this?"
"As long as I need to.
Sometimes minutes. Sometimes hours."
There were areas of fences close by on the surrounding property, the occasional bray or bah or grunt echoed through the air, and sat in the otherwise quiet.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure. Hit me."
Tommy fidgeted with the fingers on one hand in his lap as he found the right words and considered them being actually spoken.
"Do you ever.
Like, despite all the war, and the fighting, and all the- well, all the mess- how much it sent me a fucking mess.
Do you ever miss it? Those days? The people? Or, well, the way they were. The way it all was."
Jack looked at him, something like softness in his features.
"Sure. It was all a bit much at times, and I'm not sure I'd wanna do it all again.
But I miss it sometimes. It was fun, really."
"Yeah, I don't think I'd do it all again either. But. I don't know, I've tried to move on. My little cottage far away, my humble paradise. But that trails a lot into my mind."
"I think it trails onto all of our minds sometimes, wherever we all are.
But we all have to move on, find our own destiny sometime."
"Okay. Phew. I'm glad it's not just me."
"Chasing the win keeps me happy.
I like who I am now, probably more than I was. But that doesn't mean he was bad."
"You like being a gambler? Over an incompetent fight loser?"
Jack laughed, soft and genuine, and Tommy fidgeted a bit harder.
"I guess they're not great options are they."
"Sorry, that was a bit harsh, I don't see many people."
"One of them means I might win someday, I was never gonna win back then."
His face held that expression again, soft, almost sad maybe.
"I've still got my one life. One canon life.
And I intend to use it the best way I can."
"What do you mean? How do you wanna use it?."
"You know. I've not got a clue.
But I'll figure that out later.
For now, I've got my cottage, and my new pet! Oh she's adorable. Mareep, she's a little sheep I caught.
But you know, things are okay for me.
Tubbo and his fucking bees I see also every now and then. He's doing pretty well for himself. Selling fucking honey."
"Oh, that's good. I thought he exploded when I blew up everything.
I can't actually die I don't think, so I never know whether these things are bad for everyone else or not."
"I guess being the president of L'Manberg teaches you a few logistical things, aye?
Not that either of us would know anything about that."
"Well."
"Well."
"I haven't seen anyone else besides Tubbo."
"Yeah, you two are hard to separate."
"Tell me about it."
"I think I like it that way for now though.
The quiet life."
"Quiet is nice. This is nice."
"It's good to see an old face though. I know I said it before, but it really is."
Tommy pushed himself up and off the snow beneath them, a couple joints popped, Jack did the same, they stayed standing with the cabin behind them.
"Well, I can't stay for long, I've gotta do things like feed Mareep."
"Yeah, I got some places to see, now that I'm out.
Haven't left there in a while, probably should go check on some things."
"Is there anything else you wanna ask me? I have no questions for you."
Jack looked like he might have something to say, but was going through the roster of words in his mind, carefully considering them.
"Are you happy?
I guess that's really all I'd care to know."
Tommy opened his mouth to respond, closed it, gave a whisper of a smile, ran one of his hands along his pant leg in a partial fidget and a partial way to rid himself of the cold, then opened it again.
"Getting there."
They both nodded gently.
"I'm glad."
"It's good to see you, Jack."
"It's good to see you too, Tommy."
"I hope you get that big win someday.
Oh, and hey. Don't let anyone bye this house."
"I won't."
"I might not see you again. But I hope to lhear about it if you win big."
That's okay. You will. I can deal with just knowing that you're happy."
Tommy held out a hand.
"So long J Money."
Jack shook it.
"Bye Big T."
They both looked to the cabin once more, gave a two finger salute, and went their separate ways along the snowy path.
19 notes · View notes
lass-us-slay · 4 months ago
Text
So I read a prompt about how Wonder Woman found Danny in a trash can (don’t remember which one) and I was bored.
So I took that lil info and made it into an AU.
So basically, Danny get yeeted into this unknown universe and has no where to live. And no where to live means no money. No money means no food. No food means Danny can’t keep his human half sustained.
So what does he do?
Decides to not change into a human and live in a trash can.
Yes you heard that right, live in a trash can.
Because he’s a ghost, he doesn’t have to worry about the germs and stuff. But that doesn’t mean he lives in just any trash can! He lives in a clean one ☝️
AND he also decorated it with his name so other people know it’s his!
And so Danny has been here for a while now and realizes
Holy shit there’s hero’s here- you know what, why doesn’t he have hero’s back home?!
And being minorly annoyed jealous (but he’s never admitting that)he thought:
Well since there’s hero’s here already, guess I’m not needed.
.
.
.
Good. I’m tired af
And so Danny caries on his life, being content with his trash can and scaring whoever comes into his alley. It’s fun. Sure he sometimes needs to ugh overshadow people to feed his human side, but other than that.
It’s going great.
But Danny doesn’t realize that with Amity gone (or smth, you choose) which was his haunt, he slowly makes the trash can into his new haunt.
And slowly but surely, Danny’s beloved haunt trash can starts to become other worldly kinda.
Yk because of the ectoplasm.
So now Danny’s lovely trash can haunt has more space inside and- Hey Danny can actually sleep in it better!! And he got some company too!
In the form of blob ghosts.
Two actually.
They keep his trash can clean and help purifying some corrupted ectoplasm that he finds. Because for some reason this universe’s ectoplasm seems half way artificial and tastes a bit weird. Which is where the blob ghosts help out in.
Everything was great.
Danny was loving the trash can life style.
He has two blob ghosts friends. Which he named Sam and Tucker, and yea they couldn’t talk but that was fine.
He wasn’t lonely, he wasn’t. He had two very much talking friends like Sam and Tucker.
However one day two weirdly dressed people- oh they were hero’s.
Well anyway they found him, one woman stripper and one furry guy.
But it was on accident! He was just peaking out of his beloved haunt trash can, and they spotted him.
He stared, they stared back.
Then the woman stripper asked him questions, even when he said:
“Don’t mind me, have a nice day!”
But they just kept bother him and giving him weird looks and glances.
Which- rude.
Didn’t they see his mark on his haunt trash can? Obviously it means it’s his home, so they shouldn’t be bothering him still. He’s safe as can be.
Plus.
It’s not like he’s looking at them in suspicion and weirdness, I mean look at them! What kinda cheep knock off vampire fury mix and American stripper style clothing are those!
They should mind their own business!
———
Just a silly lil drawing of this lmao, don’t mind me.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes