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fulcrvm · 7 months

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I am thinking thoughts about airports and flying again. And Dreamling, of course.

So. Human AU. History professor Hob has to fly around a lot for work, perhaps for conferences or smth of the sort so it's always to a small handful of the same nearby cities. He's pretty neutral on the idea of flying in general, though he wishes it was a bit more environmentally friendly, but Hob is a sucker for a nice airport and especially a nice airport lounge during layovers or before boarding.

Hob has begun to frequent a small local airline (White Horse Air, the logo is a coat of arms with a little pegasus, wyvern, and hippogriff on it, haha) when traveling because he likes their service (they've never lost his bags, not even once!) and their flights are never fully booked, which makes them quieter and easier for hob's chronic pains. He always picks seats with no one next to him so he can sprawl out and so it's easier on his knees.

Until, one day, he boards the little plane and there's someone in the seat next to his. Hob's sure that when he booked his seat, the other one was empty. Oh well, whatever, Hob's not going to bother the other man already sitting there for one flight— he'll just have to be a little more mindful booking next time. Hob shuffles into the seat, and notices that the stranger sat beside him is reading Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur! Hob gets excited because! That's a William Caxton publication! And Hob has so much to say about Caxton! He turns to the stranger to strike up conversation about it and... is immediately lost at how pretty the stranger is. Handsome, gorgeous, yes of course, but pretty, with the shell pink lips and focused blue eyes and slight frown at the book in his hands. Hob picks up his metaphorical jaw off the metaphorical ground and strikes up conversation with the stranger. Though the other man starts off apprehensive, somehow the two hours of flying fly by and the two of them end up talking about all sorts of art, history, and everything in between. Hob learns that the stranger works in publishing, thus his interest in Caxton.

Their flight lands, and the two of them disembark at the gate, still attempting to continue their conversation while Hob tries to wrangle his carry-on bags. (The Stranger only has a small laptop bag on one shoulder and a suit jacket folded over his other arm with him.) Then Hob has to check the time and begrudgingly says that he should probably head towards his next gate soon— this is just a layover after all. The Stranger looks ever so slightly disappointed and admits that this is his actual destination and he needs to meet his sister soon. They part ways, and Hob tries to dwell on the strange warmth in his chest. He thinks about the Stranger for his entire work trip afterwards.

This, somehow, happens a couple times. Turns out they both frequent White Horse Air, and though they're never in booked seats next to each other again, the flights are always empty enough that they can shift to sit next to each other once the plane's in the air. They chat the flight away, and then part ways once they disembark, with the Stranger headed to the baggage claim and Hob to his next flight. One time, the Stranger even requests the hostess to bring out a special bottle of Chateau Lafitte 1828 just for the two of them to share. Hob's in awe. He really enjoys their conversations, it's nice to be able to talk about his interests in a non-academia environment. The Stranger always has the most intriguing and eye-opening perspectives on everything, too. It doesn't really help that Hob thinks... maybe he's developing a tiny, teeny, really inconsequential really crush on his Stranger. He's not in grade school anymore, how does he feel like this about someone he doesn't even know the name of yet!

This all comes to a head when Hob mentions to the Stranger that his layover is a bit longer than it usually is, and if the Stranger is in no rush, they can continue their conversation in one of the airport's lounges. White Horse Air is a bit too small an airline to have their own lounge, but Hob's collected enough miles to get into one of the other airline lounges and is fully willing to pay to get in one if it means more time with his Stranger.

The Stranger is extremely enthusiastic about the idea— which shows up physically as a subtle, coy upturning at the corner of his mouth and a little sparkle in his eye. (Hob feels proud that he can read this reaction so well.) He's so enthusiastic, in fact, that the Stranger offers to get them both into a first-class lounge. Hob doesn't even pretend to hesitate to say yes.

Let's just say they get to the lounge, split some cheese and wine, and the proceed to get even more enthusiastic with each other in a private room. Hob's lucky he brought a change of clothes in his carry-on. (Maybe Hob's not so lucky and can't sit comfortably during his next three-hour flight.)

Hob gets a bit emotional when he has to leave for his next flight (already missing being able to hold his Stranger's face so gently, being able to card his fingers through his soft, smokey hair) and gets his guts together to ask if the Stranger wants to exchange phone numbers or something, so they can be in contact more regularly. Perhaps even, meet on purpose maybe? The Stranger smiles and kisses him lightly on the cheek when he slips a business card into Hob's hand.

Hob's so caught up in it all that he doesn't check the business card until he's fully boarded and sat on his next flight. And he gawks.

Morpheus Aion The Dreaming Publishing House

As in, one of White Horse Air's biggest shareholders? Aion, as in, probably the sibling of Teleute Aion? As in, Teleute Aion, the CEO of White Horse Air?! Hob almost passes out.

In the end, Morpheus and Hob laugh it out. Morpheus promises he never abused his sibling privileges to invade Hob's privacy, but used the sibling perks to frequent White Horse Air flights a little more than he even needed to just for the chance to see Hob again. They're both happy to not need to keep flying just for that chance anymore, haha. Idiots in love! Turns out, while Teleute lives where Hob keeps having his layovers, Morpheus and Hob actually live just a few hours driving from each other from their shared initial departure location. It all works out perfectly, and Morpheus self-restraint from inviting Hob to move in (so they don't have to keep travelling to see each other, no matter how small) lasts not even a year after they officially start dating. Hob doesn't even pretend to hesitate to say yes :)

(Years down the line, much after they're married, Hob finally has enough miles to get them back into those first-class lounges to have more fun. It's all very lovely.)

#my thought process was “can i get them to fuck in an airport lounge room” and then i never even wrote that part #guess what i am also a sucker for a nice airport and an even nicer airport lounge. i am yearning for a nice flight rn #i genuinely love flying so much. not domestic travel but international travel is what my entire life revolves around and i am allowed to #romanticise it a little bit haha #anyway #(me describing morpheus' lips with a guitar color) ah yes literature #how the hell do i tag this #i dont usually post idea dumps like this but i have no where else to put it haha #i'd love to write it but i dont think i'd know how to approach this lol #if anyone wants to take this as a prompt go ahead!!#the sandman #dreamling #dc #rex speaks #rex writes #(?)#long post

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lorephobic · 6 months

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literally nobody asked for it, but here's my list of saltburn essays that i've slowly been drafting over the course of the last week which WILL be required reading for anybody trying to engage with me about this movie. my very personal saltburn 101 syllabus just dropped

A Wolf in Deer's Clothing: Saltburn's Attempt at Innocence

an examination of party costumes and our character's last attempts to masquerade as something they're not: felix—an angel, all-forgiving and all-knowing, something to be worshiped; and oliver—a prey animal, prey to class-divide, prey to saltburn, prey to felix.

thoughts about oliver specifically are loosely organized in my #bambi tag

A Midsummer Night's Mare: Farleigh Start as the Ultimate Victim of Saltburn

a farleigh character study, about the ways he was mistreated and manipulated at saltburn, about fighting to stay alive and the scars left behind by knowing when to give in

alternatively titled "QuickStart", may be adapted into a conclusive essay specifically focusing on oliver and farleigh's relationship

The Eye of the Beholder: On Saltburn's Voyeurism & Violence [working title]

how wealth and class pushes the catton's toward the volatile reality of being able to look, but not touch. on desire and the lack thereof, and portraying yourself as an object to be desired

may end up as two separate essays on wealth and aestheticism but i'm pushing toward a conclusive essay about the intersection of the two, which i feel is at the heart of saltburn

alternatively titled "Poor Man's Pudding: A Melvillian Approach to Saltburn's Class", again, may be adapted into it's own essay

Gender-Fluid: A Study in Sexuality and Saltburn's Desire to be Dry

a deep dive into the bodily fluids of saltburn and how oliver upsets the standard of men who are just so lovely and dry. on the creative choice to lean into the messy wetness of sex and desire and the audience's instinct toward repulsion

a celebration of the grotesque and an examination of why we would label it as such

least developed of the four, heavily inspired by @charnelpit's lovely post about the fluids in saltburn

if anybody is actually interested in any of these, i can work toward something closer to a finished piece instead of just bullet points and quotes in a google doc, but mostly this is so i can share my very brief takes on a multitude of themes in saltburn that have been haunting me

edit for people seeing this in the future: all posts about my essays are being organized into my #saltburn 101 tag if you’re interested in following these through to development!

#saltburn #saltburn posting #really desperately need someone to pay me to write saltburn essays all day #or else these will never be more than a smattering of bullet points #and these are only the most developed of the millions of the thoughts that i've had rolling around in my brain this last week #idk if lengthy meta-essays are interesting to literally anyone other than me #but if any of these speak to u and u have thoughts abt them #of course u are welcome to send them my way #i think all of these were born out of either seeing bad fandom takes (ie. everything ive seen about farleigh and oliver)#or rly good fandom takes that haven't been talked about enough like the fluids thing #anyway #oh also if u want any interview clips that back up any of these ideas i have a list thats like a million miles long #and would be happy to dig for any specific things im talking about here #bambi #also also im sorry i kno the colon in academic essay titles is so overused i just love a subtitle sm #i love love love a clever little essay title. titling my essays was literally my favorite part of the essay process in college #saltburn 101

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bluepallilworld · 3 months

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A Tear's Soul

Part 1: All is certainly well in this fine world

Mimosa barely had the time to register what was happening before he was warped elsewhere by his happy-go-lucky friend.

He was used to Lint’s instantaneous portals with how often he had been ambushed but the sensation never failed to be truly bizarre.

It felt like dipping your toes in lukewarm water then suddenly you were drenched and dry at the same time. And in a random place you did not ask to go.

The instant the shock runned out of his system, Mimosa whirled around and hit Lint’s head with the side of his hand.

“LINT, COME ON! Couldn’t this at least wait after breakfast? I’m hungry…”

Lint’s only reaction was to giggle so hard she toppled down on the wooden floor.

“Where would be the fun in that? If you really wanted that breakfast, you should have woken up earlier!”

“...You would just have come even earlier if I did that, wouldn’t you?”

She smiled and stood up, whistling and buzzing around.

The kid sighed and started looking around.

Where were they?

The floor was wooden and a little dusty, the walls were pretty bare except for some weird unrecognizable knick-knacks on shelves. The room was small.

“Whom closet did you zap us in?”

Lint tsked and wiggled her finger in front of his face.

“You’re really”, she pointed to a big dent in a wall, “not a good detective, uh?”

Mimosa stared hard at the dent. It looked a bit like a puppy’s face? It reminded him of when they played hide-and-seek with Mu’s at her second home and he just rammed his elbow so hard into a wall it damaged the wall. It didn't hurt but it left its mark on the house.

Wait.

He gasped at the realization.

“SINCE WHEN CAN YOU POP DIRECTLY INTO TODDH’S POCKET DIMENSION?!! I thought you couldn’t go farther than the entrance?”

He shook his friend hard in his barely contained excitation.

They were at Mu’s!!!

“Well, it took me a few tries. I’m not sure I’m welcome alone here anymore by the way?”

“Why did you teleport us here? I thought you’d wanted to go exploring or somethin?”

“...You told me you missed Mu and she wouldn’t come back for at least another week sooo.”

Mimosa hugged her. He did indeed miss his younger sister but he didn’t think it was that obvious.

“Eh, couldn’t have my best friend slash “half-brother-from-another-multiverse” mopping, now?”

He buried his head into her shoulder while she rubbed his back.

“We should get out of this closet and go look for your little princess, don’t you think?”

He nodded and pushed away the other to get to the door handle. He didn’t get that far as the girl shoved him away and opened the door first.

She runned out all while shouting:

“THE LAST ONE TO FIND HER IS WET NOODLE!”

And as he, for sure, didn’t want to be a wet noodle, the boy dashed at his turn and they raced through the long corridor, crashing into furniture and laughing their heads off.

Sadly, he tripped on one of his treacherous tentacles (a fairly common occurrence) and tumbled down quite fast with a yelp. His “friend” just snickered at his misfortune and disappeared behind a corner.

Aw, he didn’t want to be the wet noodle…

He plopped down against the floor, starfish-style, and examined his surroundings. He was still in a corridor. That house had too much of those.

He craned his skull around to examine the few doors he could see from this angle.

Among the very unremarkable doors, one stood out. It was white with flowers painted all over it. The skill of the painting varied a lot and those near the bottom were merely child scribbles.

The skeleton propped himself on his elbows and stared at the door, right-sided.

It was Mu’s room.

Maybe the pasta fate would not befall on him in the end?

The slats creaked despite his best attempts to be sneaky and he cracked the door open a smidge before peeking inside.

A small skeleton was sitting there, playing on the ground with a hoop. Quiet, she was making it roll harshly against the floor until it hit the wall and got launched back at her. She then caught it with the tentacle wrapped cozily around her throat and shoulders and began the process anew.

There she was.

He readied himself to call her when a weight on his head startled him.

“FOUND HER! I WON!”, shouted Lint from above.

How did she even do that, she was slightly smaller than him! That thought was one of the many that went through his mind as she leaped over leaning on his shoulders.

Back to the ground.

Mu looked at them for a second, nodded, then went back to her game, unbothered.

Lint danced, chanting “wet noodle, wet noodle”, looking rather pleased.

He weakly protested that he found her first to which he got the counter argument; he didn't announce it first so that was null and void.

Fair.

They spent some time together, each doing their very own stuff.

Lint was trying to improve her cartwheels (with various success) all while chittering about some story he half-listened to, she tried to coax them into leaving for an adventure a few times but didn’t insist for once so she kept doing clumsy cartwheels.

Mu continued her game, focused on it, Mimosa ignored the action's goal but she was fully entranced by it (despite glancing in his direction a few times, probably wondering about what he was doing).

He was cutting paper shapes with scissors and gluing those to pins he found in a box.

Once he was satisfied with the amount of paper shapes, he tapped gently on Mu’s shoulder to get her attention. She turned around and tilted her head before eyeing a notebook laying on the ground next to her.

“You don’t have to use your book if you don’t feel like it, I won’t ask complex questions.”

His mute sister nodded and gave him her whole attention.

He pointed at his work.

“Would you like it if I put some of these on your hat to keep company to your flower pin?”

Her eyelights grew two sizes before he even finished his sentence, she stuck her hands in the pockets on each extremity of the drooping bunny ears of her dark colored hat and excitedly moved up her arms, showing the paws design sewed on that side of the pockets.

“I’ll take that for a yes!”

Mu nodded so hard her hat would have flipped away if her hands weren’t still stuffed in.

He pointed to the paper shapes and asked her to point to the ones she’d like most.

She didn’t hesitate and picked anything vaguely flower shaped plus one that looked like a lemon (or an eye?). When he interrogated her on that choice, she just uncurled her tentacle, revealing the rest of her face and smiled.

“Ok, ok, sit there and don’t move.”

He started to stick the paper bits as carefully as he could and Lint joined him on the task soon after.

They did that for a moment, he had to stop Mu from wiggling too much a few times as she grew impatient and excited.

Once they were done and confident it would hold for long enough to be satisfying, they released the small monster and she all but ran to the mirror.

Watching her twirl around in joy released a special wave of warmth in his soul. Those moments reminded him how lucky he was to still have her, how lucky he was that Fancy and the one before him found her when she had been lost and how lucky they had been to be reunited during an unplanned playtrip.

He saw Lint watching him thoughtful in the corner of his eyes but he didn’t call her out on that.

However, when she turned her gaze back toward the mirror anew and her eyelights shrieked to almost pinpoints.

Uh?

He turned his head to discover an absence of any twirling sister and shot up.

“Where?”

Something poked his shoulder.

Lint was in front of him.

He turned around.

Nothing.

Lint was glaring at random corners.

Poc.

He looked to his left then more thoroughly to his right.

Then he was promptly yoinked from the ground by something above.

“AH-”

A hand stopped his shout and he looked at his aggressor’s face.

…Nip.

The dark-boned-mixed-rabbit-skeleton grinned at him and made a sign to keep quiet. He reluctantly nodded and fred his mouth.

Nipal was a strange fellow that liked far too much scaring others in his opinion, but it came with the fact he had been born from a bad dream he guessed.

Other than that, he was pretty okay.

And also holding him with a leg while crouched on all four on the ceiling.

Nip giggled silently and he watched Lint getting more and more agitated on the ground.

She was looking everywhere for them and despite glancing up a few times, Nip always moved just in time to hide from her sight.

The demon was talented in this stuff.

Nip moved towards a wall and put him on the top of a closet using only one floating hand. Mu was already waiting there and looked absolutely giddy at the event.

Nip went back to tormenting Lint and one of the puffy ends of his bunny ears almost smacked him when he turned.

Hm. Mimosa got himself comfy to admire the chaos.

He shrugged.

That might as well happen.

Nip played for another five minutes at pocking the distraught girl running around on the floor before leaping behind her, shifting his form to a huge furry rabbit monster and caught her from behind in a hug.

Lint screamed bloody murder and Mu drew a line in her notebook. He peeked at the page… 15 was scribbled next to a vaguely bunny shaped scribble and a bit fat zero next to three bows. It looked like she had been keeping score.

He giggled. Hopefully Lint won’t see that.

This one was now hitting and biting the smug adult -to be confirmed, Nip always lied when they asked his age.

After a bit of shifting and a whole lot of being picked up and scaling things for no reason, they all finally ended up all sitting in the center of the room.

Nipal Twees, once again in his more regular shape, clapped his hands together.

“That was amusing, how are you guys doing?”

He did not wait for their answer as he wiggled his left ear, distracting little Mu that was sitting on his lap.

“Now, kids, Toddh went out to get Fancy. Boy is taking a bit long to bring back groceries.”

Where was he going with that?

“...Kitchen’s free, who wanna bake? Badly of course!”

They answered their agreement, loudly.

What a good idea, he was famished.

And like that, they made a beeline for the kitchen and promptly started to try baking… something…

They didn’t have any recipe and Fancy’s cookbook was creepy so they boycotted that idea.

Each busied themselves with a task they thought would help making… something?

The result was barely palatable and the kitchen was very close to what someone would consider “ruined”.

He would not talk about the general state of their outfits. The aprons they put on had been near useless in keeping the mess at bay.

They made a game of trying to eat the biggest part without making faces. Nip was quickly banned from playing as he was unbothered by the taste and even claimed to enjoy it.

The sound of keys in a door made them all freeze.

Toddh was back.

annnnd that's the end of part one 🎶

*******************************************************

Shine, Malignance, Bow/Butterfly and Calligraphy (mentioned) belong to @creative-firebug <3

The rest is mine owu

Tagging as requested: @shinechermont

(if someone desires to be tagged in the other parts, tell me (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) )

👉👈tagging @zu-is-here because the whole idea of that project was born because of a discussion I had with her (no I'm not telling what it was about) (zuz tell me if you want me to tag you in the other parts or not :D)

bonus:

I thought it'd be fun to put a link to the first time I put Mimosa in a comic (almost 4 years ago), I have evolved a bit

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lovesickeros · 5 months

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☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

#genshin impact #genshin impact yandere #genshin yandere #neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #arlecchino x reader #yandere arlecchino #yandere arlecchino x reader #furina x reader #yandere furina #yandere furina x reader #fic tag #pats neuvillette this noodle dragon can be so pathetic #aiming for pathetic desperate and slightly guilty. it gnaws at him knowing he's keeping you like a bird in a cage #esp if you react extremely negatively hes like a kicked puppy #not outwardly but internally hes a MESS. sobbing crying wailing #furina and neuvi sopping wet kittens u found in a cardboard box in an alley #vs arle thinking abt all the crimes shes going 2 commit in the process w/o an ounce of guilt. blackmail? check. kidnapping? check.#a little murder for flavor. as u can see im coping horribly w being practically snowed in rn i need 2 be put down #its like 4 degrees out rn (fahrenheit) and getting colder ueueueue i am dying..........#only thing keeping me going is my furinameow plushie coming. eventually. staying strong just for her.................#also needs 2 be mentioned all the stories r separate ksjfkhdsf #no not everyone in fontaine is yan and trying 2 kidnap sorry for getting ur hopes up..#yet #anyway u cant convince me arle isn't bribing (or just straight up forcing) her agents into doing stupid shit so she can “save” you #and make you owe her #two silly goofy little creatures vs the personification of gaslight gatekeep girlboss (heavy on the gaslight)#also split this up in 3 parts bc. lol. lmao. im not writing 9 characters at once goodbye #also all the masks do actually have significance i have an entire essay on why i gave each animal to specific characters okay

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nibbelraz · 10 months

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Falling back in love with your craft

#svsss #shang qinghua #scum villain #you know i think about how Shang Qinghua had an idea for PIDW and had to forgo it to cater to his fanbase #and how he met a reader that even if he shat on it loved his book and even helped to bring his real outline to life #i like to think he got back into writing in his new life and gets to make the stuff he wants #he's not pressured to do anything but create and just #fall in love with the process again #im projecting #✌️ but seriously it makes me insane to think about how even if shang Qinghua made that whole novel his number one hater still read it all #STILL loved part of the book so much #like it just makes me think theres always someone out there thatll see a peice of you in all your work and latch onto it to love #my art #nibbelraz

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the-witchhunter · 6 months

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DP x DC Dead Soulmates

This is probably the only soulmate au I'll ever do so enjoy

Soulmate au where your soul mark turns black when your soulmate dies

Danny and Jason are soulmates. The problem? Both of their soul marks are black. Sure, they came back, but not in a typical way, so each thinks the other is dead

So what do we get? Longing. Two guys longing for a love they thought lost to them, thinking tenderly of a future they don't think they could have, even without the added craziness of their lives. Standing on rooftops, smoking in the cold november air, their breath indistinguishable from the smoke, their spent cigarettes flicked off the edge like discount shooting stars, lamenting their fates, probably to each other for the dramatic irony of it all

they both get it. The quiet kind of grief, longing for somebody they never got the chance to know, thinking about how things could have been different, how the should have been different. That understanding is what draws them towards each other

and then? Jason sees Danny's mark, Jason shows his own, they stare at each other, silent for a moment, before arms wrap around the other, lips pressed together, and quiet tears fall like rain to the rooftop beneath their feet

longing, angst, and then happy ending

and you can thank this song for inspiring the mood for this

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #writing prompt #writing #dpxdc #soulmate au #dead on main #i usually don't like soulmate au's so probably the only one I'm ever going to do #they kind of act as shortcuts to get characters together #which tends to skip my favorite parts of romance focused fics #so taste wise they just don't scratch the itch for me usually #but if i can give them years of angst...#idk something about actually having them emotionally process the fact they think they'll never get to meet their other #the person perfectly suited to them #having them suddenly get together seems worth it to me #i also really like this song #Spotify

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skitskatdacat63 · 10 months

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2009 Belgian Grand Prix - Kimi Räikönnen(ft. Giancarlo Fisichella & Sebastian Vettel)

#2009 kimi is so 😳 with his long hair #my fav part about kimi podiums is how much champagne he drinks compared to other drivers hahaha #everyone else mostly sprays it but he always keep slugging it #i dont know why i keep making these at 6 am when i dont have any thought processes as well as being sick! i cant write meaningful tags #nevertheless aahahhhhhh i love 2009!!! its so sick how balanced it is #like how tf did a force india get pole and nearly win???? sick #im still dying over the lap one DNF where 4 cars were taken out in one fell swoop it was almost comedic #it feels so nice to see fisi again!!! i missed him since 2005...shame nando isnt on the podium w him bcs i miss my renault boys #but heyyyyyy simi podium!!! i love how kimi is just trying to drink and seb sprays him #kimi räikkönen #kimi raikkonen #sebastian vettel #sv5 #giancarlo fisichella #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #we do a little bit of f1 #2009 belgian gp #2009 belgian grand prix

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bi-hop · 1 month

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all of this is probably gonna be reworked when I'm not in "QUICK, jot down fic snippets while you work on a university project" mode but since the last preview for this university AU was just kabru and rin at their apartment, wanted to actually post these two talking

without any evidence to back this up, I think Kabru has a great memory for regional accents and likes looking up the meaning of names. it's his favorite party trick. he talks to you for 5 minutes and then goes "so how were summers in Kahka Brud?" even though you never mentioned you were from there, actually, but it's fine because he sincerely listens to your answer and offers his own commentary. I saw all of this in a vision. *exits stage left, pursued by a basilisk*

#labru #fic wip #kabru of utaya #laios touden #what follows is the most painful flirting in the history of man- /j #my process for writing this is pretty erratic so we'll see when I finish it #there's another scene in my notes that's like #kabru downing a martini and laios going 'wrow... can we kiss' without the 'can we kiss' part #but I'll keep that in my sleeve for a rainy day #dunmeshi uni au

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citrinesparkles · 2 years

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stormy weather

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 720 words. notes: a very abstract take on 'write a true story about you with characters instead of people', one of the prompts from the ever lovely @reaperintheroses drabble december! this was more 'write about feelings', but i tried. warnings: vague bad headspace on jason's part

he was in a mood.

you weren't sure what mood, but it wasn't good.

it was, however, familiar enough that you weren't surprised when he walked through the bedroom like a ghost.

all he took with him as he left it was a nail file.

you sat quietly, listening for the window.

there it was, about half a minute later: the sliding sound of the window in the frame was quiet but unmistakable, as was the sound of it sliding shut behind him.

fire escape brooding.

you sighed- that was a surefire sign that the mood had settled in completely. you had hoped, somewhat naïvely, that it would be a "wrong side of the bed" situation; had hoped he would be able to shake it off.

with the mood here to stay, you put your phone aside and slid out of bed.

it wasn't something to fix. not days like this. as much as you wished you could carry the weight of this for him, you settled instead for trying to share the load.

you took your time walking through the apartment, giving him his space for a little while as you boiled water and steeped tea for him.

you dug out his largest, warmest sweatshirt, tugging it on to brace against the cold you knew was wrapped around him both mentally and literally. then, with a glance at his silhouette in the window, you picked up his mug and approached.

he barely reacted to the sound of the window opening, only shifting slightly so his ear was towards you in silent acknowledgement.

"i made tea," you said softly, leaning on the sill. "interested?"

jason hesitated a moment, the only sounds the traffic below.

he shrugged, twirling the nail file between two fingers.

you reached over, gently pressing the mug into his free hand, watching as he pulled it to his chest with a hum.

"do you want space, or would you prefer i join you?"

"...you can." his voice was steady, but uncharacteristically quiet and lifeless. "not gonna be much company right now."

you slid out the window, closing it behind you, and he glanced up at you blankly. "you don't have to be," you said firmly, quietly, as you sat down beside him. "i'm just here."

the metal was freezing, even through your thick sweatpants. it would take more than a stretch of the imagination to call it comfortable, but you settled in like it was memory foam.

you sat in silence, listening to him breathe beside you and watching it fog in your peripheral.

you sat until your legs ached and your nose felt about ready to fall off from the cold. you sat for far longer than it took him to drain his mug. you sat long enough that the rush of lunch traffic came and went below you.

you sat watching gray clouds churn in the sky, offering the only comfort you could: he wasn't alone.

eventually, he inhaled deeply, and you felt something shift.

"you want a grilled cheese?" his voice was rough and quiet, but using it was a good sign.

you recognized the offer as the thank you that it was.

"yeah," you matched his volume, gently breaking your silence. "that sounds good."

it wasn't over, not by a long shot. you could feel it in the air around you, as though jason was a storm and the front was rolling in. it would be a few days, you suspected, of this- of disconnect, of that distant look in his eyes.

and that was the best case scenario.

he pushed himself up and off the ground, wincing when his bad ankle popped unpleasantly, and you changed your mind. he wasn't the storm. a storm in his own right, sure, strong and beautiful and immovable to all the world, but in this case he was standing on the coast and watching the storm turn the ocean angry.

he reached a hand down to help you up.

you took it, squeezing it once, twice, three times in quick succession as you hauled yourself to your feet. once there, you relaxed your grip.

he kept his, keeping your palm against his own. bracing himself against the wind.

you'd be damned if you let him board up the windows and sandbag the doorways on his own.

#citrine writes #drabbledecember #HA I DID ONE #kinda.#jason todd #for anyone interested in how this fits the prompt fhjdkfhsj i wanted to explore how i process my own bad spaces #and then it turned into me thinking about how helpful company is and how many times people have saved me from spirals just by being Around #the other part of this that was super personal was the storm analogy. storms scared me as a kid #but now they're comforting and remind me of home #there's beauty in the scary parts of life too. even when the storm is here there's beauty in life #especially if you can share it.#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #imagines #dc imagines #dc #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #gn reader

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acescorazon · 3 months

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Title: Changes

Chapter: 12

Rating: M

Word count: 2838

Chapter excerpt:

All of Buggy’s negative emotions quickly overwhelm and consume him. He feels like he’s trapped in a never-ending nightmare, and can’t help but go over his every little interaction with Mihawk and Crocodile. As he wonders where it all went wrong, a series of memories play out in his head like a movie.

|Ch1|Ch2|Ch3|Ch4|Ch5|Ch6|Ch7|Ch8|Ch9|Ch10|Ch11|

Buggy cries until he’s unable to cry anymore and even once his tears dry up, the heavy ache in his chest lingers as he tries to process what just happened between him and Crocodile. Their confrontation from earlier plays in Buggy’s head on an almost endless loop, reminding him of his failure to seize the perfect opportunity to get what he wanted finally. Buggy has wanted a somewhat peaceful life for ages now, yet when the opportunity arose for one, he foolishly turned it away.

How does that make any sense?

Buggy doesn’t understand why he couldn’t just accept Crocodile’s apology. It doesn’t matter if Crocodile was or wasn’t being completely sincere. His apology was a chance for them to be on ‘good terms’ at long last, so why did Buggy reject it so quickly?

Crocodile was apologizing and trying to make amends, he was offering to finally put an end to all the bad blood between them, but Buggy had a meltdown and rejected the opportunity to finally be happy. Even if they had a short-lived friendship and Crocodile ended up going back to his old ways a week or two later, Buggy could have still benefited from the situation greatly, but he just… shut everything down and didn’t want to hear anything.

Buggy can’t help but wonder when he became a man who cares if someone is being honest with him or not. Buggy himself is someone who would lie constantly if he needed to, so why can’t he accept Mihawk and Crocodile’s dumb apologies? Why can’t he forgive and forget, and just allow himself to have a moment of happiness?

It’s about two weeks or so after the official debut of Cross Guild, and the island is a lot more lively now that Crocodile and Mihawk (and, of course, Daz) are around. The three men are all the residents of Emptee Bluffs Island can talk about these days, well that, as well as the formation of Cross Guild.

Buggy seems to be the only one terrified that the two former warlords will be calling Emptee Bluffs Island their home from now on though, but he’s trying to remain hopeful. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can get on Crocodile and Mihawk’s good side, so not too long after the formation of Cross Guild and their first meeting, he starts brainstorming. The only problem is Buggy’s mind constantly loops back to the same idea. He wants to give them each an expensive gift but he doesn’t want Crocodile to ask where he got the money for said gifts from. It sucks because gift-giving seems like the best way to show Mihawk and Crocodile that he’s not so bad and make them feel welcomed, but he knows he can’t do it without Crocodile getting all pissy with him.

Meh, it’s not like he’d know what to get them anyways.

After several days of thinking, pacing around, and asking his men for some much-needed advice, Buggy decides to instead throw Mihawk and Crocodile a nice dinner. He knows that Crocodile and Mihawk aren’t exactly the most outgoing people on the planet, but he has hope that once they see all the effort Buggy and his men are going through to make them feel welcomed, they’ll be a little less hostile.

Buggy dedicates a lot of time and energy to planning his little dinner for Crocodile, Mihawk, and Daz and making sure that the event is kept a secret, which is no easy task considering how much his men like to sit around and gossip. Everything is honestly a little stressful, and at times he worries that everything will end up ruined thanks to someone running their big mouths, but thankfully that never happens. In between deciding the menu and the entertainment for the night, and sending his men out for supplies, he spends his time preparing a welcome speech for his two new subordinates.

The hard part is coming up with a speech that makes him sound cool yet warm and welcoming at the same time. He can’t just say something like, ‘Surprise! Welcome to the island!’ That’s too simple, too boring, and lacks the emotions that Buggy’s trying to convey, but he can’t figure out what he should say instead. Whatever, he’ll figure it out eventually.

Buggy and his men decorate the cafeteria to the best of their ability on the night of their surprise dinner. At the end of the day, their humble, little cafeteria is nothing compared to a lavish banquet hall, but it feels a lot more cozy and intimate than a banquet hall could ever be. They push several tables together, arrange them nicely, dress them in (cheap) white tablecloths, and decorate them with fancy dishware and napkins. After that, Buggy and his men bring out the food and wine, and everyone seems thrilled as dinner time rapidly approaches.

This is it, Tonight is going to be the night that he wins Mihawk and Crocodile over with his world-class charm and charisma. He has his speech ready and tucked neatly into the palm of his hand, and now all he needs is his honored guests!

Buggy has one of his men go and fetch Mihawk, Crocodile, and Daz once everything is ready. His heart is pounding in his chest as a mixture of excitement and anxiety washes over him and makes him feel all jittery, and he has to constantly remind himself that everything is okay. In fact, everything is going perfectly for once…Or at least everything seems to be going perfectly at first. Buggy and his crew wait for what seems like hours for their guests to arrive with the fear of Dinner growing cold lingering in everyone’s minds. Eventually, the three newcomers arrive, and when they do, they don’t look surprised and thankful… If anything, they look… annoyed.

Buggy doesn’t even get to yell ‘Surprise!’ or something cool because everything goes down-hill before he gets the chance to.

Buggy watches as Mihawk looks around the nicely decorated cafeteria. His expression is devoid of any emotion, and he looks… unimpressed at best and bored at worst. Buggy looks over at Daz next, and he has a similar expression as Mihawk, which is disappointing but not surprising and he shouldn’t have expected much of a reaction from him to begin with. As for Crocodile… Well, his face shows the most emotion out of all three men. Crocodile clicks his tongue loudly and looks rather annoyed as he scans the room and takes in the warm and friendly atmosphere.

“You made me stop what I was doing for this?” Crocodile asks, narrowing his eyes at Buggy, who is baffled, just baffled at the reaction he’s getting from all three men.

“We wanted to welcome you guys to the island!” Buggy says sheepishly, and he can’t help but feel slightly irritated that none of his honored guests are happy to see their surprise. In fact, now that he sees everyone’s sour expressions, he feels a bit hesitant to say the speech he spent so long preparing. “Uh…Um, Please, have a seat!” He says, gesturing to some seats that he specially picked out for the three of them that are right across from his own. Crocodile exhales a sigh, “I ain’t hungry.”

“Neither am I.” Mihawk replies immediately afterwards.

Oh. Buggy thinks at that moment. Just, Oh. Buggy had decorations hung up and placed all around the room, he had all this delicious food that they wouldn’t eat on a normal day cooked, he had fancy wine bought and live entertainment arranged… He... He really thought that Mihawk and Crocodile would see all the effort he put into welcoming them and would want to sit down and have a bite to eat with Buggy, but they just…

Crocodile’s cold words yank him back to reality, “Instead of throwing tacky little parties, you should be working on that list of things I gave you to do.” He mutters as he turns around and leaves, and, unsurprisingly, once Crocodile leaves, everyone else follows behind him silently.

A nasty tension lingers in the air once the three men make their leave. Buggy and the rest of his crew eat quietly and as quickly as possible before making their way to their respective sleeping quarters for the night. The whole ordeal leaves a bad taste in Buggy’s mouth, but he decides to give both Mihawk and Crocodile the benefit of the doubt. Again, they aren’t really social people, of course, they wouldn’t want to participate in some giant get-together, even if it was for them and was a friendly gesture.

So, after that Buggy tries again to get on Crocodile and Mihawk’s good side. He doesn’t want Cross Guild to be built on a rocky foundation, but more importantly, he doesn’t want Mihawk and Crocodile to hate him and make him suffer. He figures he was thinking too big, too flashy, and should have instead done something smaller, but just as impactful. His mind goes back to the gift-giving thing, and he really doesn’t want to give them something overly expensive and come off as seeming disingenuous or worse have Crocodile question where he got the funds for the gift from.

Everyone Buggy asks seems to think that Buggy should totally give them bouquets to welcome them to the island and as a friendly gesture, and after some consideration, he agrees. Buggy gets a couple of different recommendations but most of the people he’s talked to say he should give Mihawk and Crocodile lilies, and Buggy, not knowing much about flowers blindly follows their suggestions. He eventually decides to give them both a bouquet of beautiful orange lilies, which he has delivered to the island as soon as possible.

In the meantime, Buggy spends hours and hours trying to plan out the perfect scenario and what he’s going to say to each man when he gives them their gifts. He’s having the same problems as before, and can’t figure out what he wants to say exactly to either. It has to be cool, though, that’s for sure. Something like, ‘I can tell you’re shocked to see these stunning flowers but don’t be. I got these for you, friend, in celebration of you coming to the island and us forming Cro—’ No, wait, that sucks, but hopefully he’ll figure something out once his flowers arrive.

The day his beautiful, stunning, fragrant flowers arrive, Buggy goes to Crocodile first, who is in the meeting room and right away seems annoyed to see him in front of him (like always) but, hey, Buggy’s trying to fix that. He holds up the bouquet of orange lilies in front of Crocodile and gives him a sheepish smile, “So, uh-”

All those hours spent preparing what he was going to say become pointless in less than a second because the moment Crocodile takes a look at his flowers, he scoffs and turns his head away. “Instead of picking flowers, you should be getting my flagship ready.”

Now, Crocodile didn’t throw his gift on the ground and stomp all over it, but it kinda feels like he did. Does Crocodile really not see the effort he’s putting in to get them on good terms…? Buggy places the flowers down on the table in front of Crocodile and gives him another smile, this one a little more forced than the last, “Oh, well… I just wanted to give you these and…” His words fail him at that moment, and he no longer knows what he should even say to the ungrateful man sitting in front of him, “You know, welcome you to the island… and I hope that... Cross guild is a success and that we can be good friends in the future…”

Crocodile rolls his eyes, “I don’t need any friends, and I certainly don’t need any shitty flowers.” He says rather dismissively, “Now if you don’t have anything important to tell me, get out.” He orders and brushes Buggy off with the shake of a hand. Buggy’s head drops and he quietly makes his way to the exit, and he swears that on his way out of the meeting room, he hears the sound of something being tossed, most likely into the trash can, but he doesn’t want to think about it.

Okay, so Crocodile is a dick. Buggy already knew that and he shouldn’t feel so gutted. It was obvious from the start that he wasn’t going to act positively towards a gift from Buggy no matter how nice it was. But Buggy was just hoping that… Whatever. It doesn’t matter.

Things with Crocodile might not have gone well, but he still has Mihawk…Right? At least there’s still hope that he can make an ally out of him… right? He finds Mihawk several minutes later, tucked away underneath a tree and polishing his sword. The sight of his giant blade brings back memories to when Crocodile and Mihawk first arrived on the island and Mihawk chased him and tried to slice him to pieces. And although it isn’t possible for Mihawk to hurt him, at least not with a sword, Buggy still finds himself growing a little uneasy just from looking at his blade.

Buggy hides the second bouquet behind his back and clears his throat as he approaches Mihawk. “Uh, Hawkeye…?” He calls out quietly, and much to his surprise, Mihawk’s initial response isn’t hostile or cold. He expected him to glare at him with sharp, piercing eyes and go: “What is it now, clown?” Instead, Mihawk glances up at him for a split second before looking back down at his sword, “Is there something you need?” He asks in his usual flat tone.

By this point, Buggy’s forgotten everything he wanted to say to Mihawk, but still tries to say something nice anyways, “Uh, I know we didn’t get off to a great start, but I wanted to give you these as a welcoming gift…” Buggy tells him, “I don’t know, I just really want us all to get along. So…yeah, here.” Buggy slowly reveals the flowers that he has hidden behind his back, and the moment Mihawk sees them, his face contorts into an irritated expression. “You say that you want to be on better terms with me, but you’re giving me orange lilies?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at Buggy. Well, yes… though orange lilies seem to have several different meanings depending on who you ask, most of Buggy’s crew said they were a positive thing, something you’d give to someone who started a new job or got a promotion, or such.

However… It turns out Mihawk doesn’t have the same feelings about the flowers.

“You’re basically giving me a bouquet that tells me the opposite of that,” Mihawk states with a scoff, “Orange Lillies represent a deep-seated hatred for someone, did you really think i’d appreciate a gift like this?” Woah, woah, woah. What? Buggy thinks. He definitely did not mean for his gift to give off that sort of vibe, and he doesn’t know why Mihawk is the one person on the island who thinks these flowers are something negative.

Buggy feels a little flustered by it all. His face reddens and he tries to stammer out a quick reply, but is once again unsure how to salvage the situation, “No, I…” He tries to speak, but Mihawk puts his hand up in the air, signaling for him to stop talking.

“I don’t want your gift. Go away.” Buggy feels like he’s been punched in the gut, and he cannot for the life of him figure out why Mihawk’s being so… unreasonable. Is that even the right word to describe him right now?

“I didn’t mean for my gift to come off the wrong way,” Buggy finally manages to say after a moment of thought as he tries his best to defend himself, “I don’t know much about flowers, an–”

“Why are you giving me a gift you know nothing about then?”

Ouch. Buggy doesn’t have a response to that, so he just lowers his head in defeat once again and walks away from Mihawk. That’s such a nasty way to look at things, yeah, Buggy doesn’t know much about flowers, but he was genuinely trying to do something nice for Mihawk, and he’s acting like he spat in his face. Whatever, Buggy thinks, feeling rather hopeless at the moment. In the end, he decides to give the flowers to a random member of his crew, one who definitely doesn’t see the flowers as a hateful gift and happily accepts them with a beaming smile.

…If only Mihawk and Crocodile had that same reaction.

#cross guild #Changes #me ending on a cliff hanger in ch11 and going straight into a flashaback in ch12 seems a lil villainous on my part but trust in the process #If this is ass i DIDNT write it...crocodile did #fics #my writing

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