ηαмєℓєѕѕ

竜 he's a greedy little thief. there's nothing good about him. independent haku [spirited away] semi private 竜

[dragxnbxy]

【 nosy 】:

             she’s content to leave it at that. it’s no skin off her nose if      he wants to keep lying to himself; he probably has his reasons      and she’s happier to keep out of DRAMA.  ❝ hm. thanks for the      grub, ❞ rin responds, turning to continue on her way and cease      any other  curiosities  about yubaba’s right hand man. but just       before she can turn the corner and  make it out of earshot, she       hears the THUMP and pivots just in time to see haku scraping      pale hands at his stomach like something’s trying to eat its way      out of him. so much for a peaceful lunch break.

     gritting her teeth and glancing around (everyone else seems too      busy to notice), rin heads over to haku. she doesn’t have an inkling      as to what is wrong with him, but she knows who would.

                              ❝ come on. i’ll take you to kamaji. ❞

          Again, with this--the feeling was too familiar to him now:      the sudden, clenching ache in his belly, as of fangs wreaking      havoc against his insides, and a thick, long obstruction rolling      against the muscles until it BURNED, and he ached to cough      it up--no, not here. Not now. Not with Lin so close--

          --she’s so close, and he realizes that he barely noticed for      the building pressure in his gut. It’s embarrassing, to have his      inferiors take notice, but he knows better than to make a scene.      Without another word, he steadies himself against the wall, and      nods with a tight jaw as he continues to clasp as his abdomen.      The last person that he wanted to speak with about this was the      Boilerman. He’d always spoken from a place so far above      Haku, it felt shameful to show his weakness to anyone, much      less him, and this woman...but if he was lucky, within the next      few minutes, it would subside...or it may take hours.                                         ❝ ...No. Just take me to my room. ❞

[dragxnbxy]

{ where do i even begin? i'm constantly amazed by the depth and breath you reach with your characters. you obviously put a lot of effort into your portrayals and it shows. like majorly shows. i feel like i'm watching spirited away whenever i read your threads here -- like this is a continuation of the story in some form or another. you write beautifully, fluidly, poetically, and gdi tell me your secrets. i need to know how you do this. }

how’s my portrayal?

/dies

[theereshegoes]

[dragxnbxy]

[ you are seriously by far one of the best, if not THE best, hakus i have ever seen. your writing is alone is simply beautiful to say the least and you have such an amazing grasp on him. i honestly feel like the real haku is there every time i read one of your posts. and just the way you give him such depth i-- yeah. akjshdlkjasf. you're gr8. ]

how’s my portrayal?

come to me, piglet child. come to haku.

[dragxnbxy]

Precious dragon noodle. You always put so much thought into the characters you portray and how to speak with their voices. Your passion is what truly inspires me and what I think is your best asset. You write so beautifully.

how’s my portrayal?

did u just call me a fucking dragon noodle??

[dragxnbxy]

i’ll be over here tonight. i really could use more interaction over there!

[dragxnbxy]

     The sad truth is;

                     we’re all   m i s s i n g   someone

                                                     { ａｎｄ ｈｏｐｉｎｇ}

                                                                                they’re   m i s s i n g   us too;

[dragxnbxy]

[ravenclaw20401]

[dragxnbxy]

you are a precious noodle child. keep up the good work widdle biddy eel weaboo.

[dragxnbxy]

【 ravenous 】:

            The demon followed the polite but distant instructions, shortening the usual length of his steps ( given his height ) to mirror the footfalls of the smaller spirit and patiently proceeded down the ostentatious hallway and into the rather cramped but sufficient elevator. Hands, or what were insidiously disguised as hands, folded behind his back as the machinations sprang to life with a series of clangs and cranks, and the modem began their transit to a higher floor. There wasn’t quite as much to look at from the small window of the elevator, sans the slivers of each floor that one was briefly provided sight of as the bay rolled up past them, and so in the dark the tantei’s glowing, swirling malachite shifted down to the petite escort he had seemingly been assigned.

            ❝A bath house for the spirits…                       I’m beginning to understand.❞

            His tone exhibited a relish, but not for the reason that the child would likely assume. Something about this place was foul, and it smelled of an ornate disguise– an embellished maze by which to cover someone’s evil, greedy intent. This bath house reeked of a sumptuous mystery, and it made the demon’s mouth water without inhibition.   

          Steely eyes bore into the ravenous maw of the devil beside him,      narrowed in scrutiny and dangerous warning as his own power bubbled      beneath the surface of his china-doll skin. He could feel the hunger      rising in the creature’s throat, and he had no intention of allowing him to      roam so freely. Despite this, he made no move to attack or restrain the      man. Instead, his small body remained stock still as the contraption      rolled to a stop, and his hollow voice filled the wooden enclosure.

                                                     ❝ ...Yes. Please, follow me. ❞           Without further reiteration, he stepped free from the open doors      and out into the hall...which, if this stranger thought that the floors     below were lavish and gaudy, would seem disgusting in taste and      decorum. Gold and crimson draped the walls, the carpets plush and      the busts lining the walls horrendously tacky, much like the color      scheme. Worse yet, the miasma of magic on this floor was outright      sickening, every step drawn heavy with powerful barriers and strong      restraints of the invisible sort. Haku, however, moved through the      space easily...too easily, too controlled in his movements, and too      well-adapted to the aura...not unlike a puppet moving on strings.

[miuroko]

[redgravemercenary-deactivated20]

How's my portrayal? Leave an opinion in my inbox.

[word-stuck]

Ukiyo-e (浮世絵), “pictures of the Floating World,” is a genre of Japanese woodblock prints and paintings produced between the 17th and 20th centuries, depicting landscapes, the theater and scenes from the entertainment districts of Japanese cities. (submitted by terrible-at-organising-student)

[dragxnbxy]

【 slothful 】:

   byakko mollified enough by his customary indifference, her dark    brow sunk and she placed the bowl in her serving bucket with a    gratuitous  ❝ weird ❞  uttered.  but when  isn’t  HAKU strange to    her ? she could never make sense of the henchman and the world    within him, but she didn’t much care to, either. he was fairly firm    on keeping those boundaries between their station solid, and rin    was just fine with that. 

               – yet, she shoots one last toss of civil, CURIOUS            concern, habit long bred with a life of customer’s service.

                                         ❝ you okay ?  ❞ 

         It’s unexpected--the concern posed for his well-being.      Dull eyes fall upon her, given pause as he turns over a      thin shoulder to answer her good-hearted question with      apathy, and a coldness that befits him in the eyes of the      other bath house workers. She should have expected      nothing less from him.                                                         ❝ ...I’m fine. ❞           However, it may be difficult for her to believe it, being      that he barely makes if another dozen steps before a wave      of nausea overtakes him, and a sharp pang in his stomach      sends him stumbling into the hard wood of the wall beside      him. Hunching, he claws at the abdomen of his work tunic,      feeling something rolling around in his belly--and ready      to come up. Not here. Not now.

[dragxnbxy]

【 moonflower 】:

At the sound of her own name she casts a quick glance over her shoulder to see if someone’s behind her. Rin. No. That’s her name! She forgot again. If Haku didn’t keep using it—she might forget. How could she forget something so important? Her mind swiftly finds the one name that matters and relief pools in her stomach and keeps her heart from dropping any lower.

“Mmm!” she understands. As she fidgets behind her she hides her treasure in her sleeve away from prying eyes and anyone that may wish to take it. Most of the others see her as an easy target but she won’t be helpless. Master Haku once called her a burden and she didn’t wish to cause him more trouble.

“It’s a secret then,” she can keep those. More than that no one expects her to keep secrets. The child has no guile but she can keep her mouth shut and she knows when to speak of something and when to pipe down. She doesn’t even need to question if he’ll keep the information to himself. She trusts him for good or for ill. “Thank you Master Haku.”

                                              ❝ ...You’re welcome. ❞           The inherent coldness in his voice had thawed with the      gentle warmth of the child that he appeared to be. Quieting      himself to escape the scrutiny of the bath house workers      bustling past them in completion of their daily duties, he then      closed his fingers over her own, keeping the fist firm over the      treasure to be protected. Whatever it was, it was Rin’s...and      he’d be damned before he let Yubaba take it from her.                       ❝ Why don’t you come with me to the gardens?                                It’s about time for your break, anyway. ❞           Without another word, and clearly expecting her to follow,      he relinquished his hold upon her fingers, his own cold to the      touch as he turned and headed for the garden. He moved as a      ghost, smooth and silent and nearly imperceptible as the      shoulders of the other workers moved through him, making      not a sound as he breached the main entrance of the bath house,      and led her quietly over the bridge in the noonday sun. The small      gate through which they could reach the gardens was held open      for her, tiny frame ushered inside by a tile of his sharp chin.

[ileftmyheartintokyo]