#I'll be adding more in the future <33 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

muiitoloko · 1 year ago

Note

hi, i love your work, you're one of my favourite writers and you're seriously amazing<33

could i please request a sheriff of nottingham x reader?? maybe with some angst thrown into the mix<3

it's okay if you don't do requests, i understand

i still adore your fics, they always make my day better<333

Title: Beneath the Veil

Summary: Perhaps, just perhaps, there was still a chance for redemption amidst the darkness of Nottingham Castle.

Pairing: Sheriff of Nottingham × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Violence, insult, infidelity, angst and Smut.

Author's Notes: Thank you so much for your kind words! It means a lot to hear that you enjoy my stories. I'm thrilled to accommodate your request for a Sheriff of Nottingham x reader fic. Your support truly brightens my day! 💖📝

First, Second and Third part here.

Also read on Ao3

As you listened to the maids gossiping about the Sheriff's indiscretions, your heart sank deeper into despair. The pain of knowing that your husband had never respected your marriage pierced your soul like a dagger, and the cruel words of the maids only added salt to the wound.

"I heard the Sheriff brought another woman to his chambers last night," one maid whispered, her voice tinged with pity.

"Of course he did," another scoffed, "have you seen Lady [Your Name]? It's no wonder the Sheriff prefers the company of other women."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you pressed yourself against the wall, hidden from view but unable to escape the cruel words echoing in your mind. The memory of the scar on your face, a permanent reminder of a childhood accident, burned with shame and self-loathing.

Your mind drifted back to that fateful day when your brother's playful antics had left you disfigured and marked for life. You had been just a child, innocent and carefree, until fate had intervened with a cruel twist of destiny.

"I'll pretend you're the dragon!" your brother had exclaimed, swinging your father's sword with reckless abandon. But his aim had been off, and the blade had sliced across your face, leaving behind a jagged scar that marred your once-beautiful features.

From that day forward, you had hidden behind veils and masks, shielding yourself from the cruel gaze of the world. Your father, desperate to salvage your future, had offered a generous dowry to any man willing to take you as his wife. And the Sheriff, seduced by the promise of wealth, had accepted, never caring for the woman beneath the veil.

As the maids continued their gossip, your heart ached with the weight of loneliness and despair. You longed for a love that would see past your scars, a love that would cherish you for who you truly were. But in the cold, unforgiving halls of Nottingham Castle, such dreams were but fleeting illusions.

With a heavy heart, you retreated to the solitude of your chambers, the echoes of the maids' laughter ringing in your ears. In the darkness, you wept for the love you had never known, for the husband who had never seen you as anything more than a pawn in his game of power and greed. And as the tears flowed freely down your cheeks, you vowed to never let the world see the pain that lay hidden behind your veil.

Later that night, as you sat alone in your chamber, the comforting click of knitting needles filling the air, you found solace in the rhythmic motion of your hands. Knitting had become a sanctuary for you, a way to escape the harsh realities of your existence within the castle walls.

Lost in thought, you focused on the delicate stitches forming beneath your fingers, each loop a small refuge from the pain that haunted you. The doll you were crafting slowly took shape, its form a testament to the love and care you poured into every stitch.

You had befriended the daughter of one of the maids, a sweet child with a smile that could light up the darkest of days. It was for her that you knitted the doll, hoping to bring a glimmer of joy to her young heart amidst the shadows of the castle.

As you continued to knit, your mind drifted back to the day you had first met her. She had been playing in the courtyard, her laughter echoing through the air like a song of innocence. And when she had approached you, unafraid of the veil that concealed your scar, something within you had stirred.

But before you could dwell too long on the memories, the side door connecting your chambers to your husband's suddenly swung open, and the Sheriff himself stumbled in, his movements unsteady and his eyes glazed with drink.

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched him, unsure of what to expect. The Sheriff rarely ventured into your chambers, preferring to keep his distance from a wife he saw as little more than a bargaining chip.

But tonight was different, his presence filling the room with a tension you could almost taste. You could smell the sharp tang of ale on his breath as he approached you, his gaze lingering on your face with a mixture of disdain and something else you couldn't quite place.

"What are you doing here, woman?" he slurred, his words slurred and his voice thick with intoxication. "Shouldn't you be off hiding in the shadows like the coward you are?"

You lowered your gaze, your fingers stilling on the needles as you braced yourself for his cruelty. But to your surprise, the Sheriff's tone softened, his eyes narrowing as he took in the doll you held in your hands.

"What's this?" he demanded, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Some pathetic attempt at charity? Who is it for, hmm? Another one of your pitiful schemes to garner favor?"

You quickly looked away, keeping your scar hidden as best as you could, not wanting him to see the source of his disdain. "What do you want?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the weight of his presence suffocating you.

The Sheriff's brow furrowed in annoyance at your lack of response. "You know what I want," he replied sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You tensed, your heart sinking even further as you realized what he was implying. Perhaps tonight, you had hoped, he would spare you this indignity, this painful reminder of your worthlessness in his eyes. But your hopes were quickly dashed as reality crashed down upon you like a wave of despair.

With a heavy sigh, you obeyed his command, slowly removing your clothes and climbing onto the bed, hiding your face in the pillows as you waited for him to take what he wanted.

The Sheriff watched you with a mixture of disgust and indifference, not bothering to hide his contempt as he undressed and climbed into bed behind you. It was always the same, the same position, the same routine, devoid of any pleasure or intimacy.

As he entered you roughly, you bit back a cry of pain, your body tensing against the intrusion. You couldn't understand how some women could enjoy such acts, could find pleasure in the harshness of it all. For you, it was simply a nightmare, a cruel punishment inflicted upon you by a husband who cared nothing for your well-being.

The Sheriff showed no mercy, his movements rough and hurried as he sought only his own release. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to endure until it was over, until you were once again alone in the darkness of your chamber.

And finally, mercifully, it was over. The Sheriff grunted in satisfaction, pulling away from you without a word, his disdain palpable in the air. You heard the rustle of fabric as he dressed himself, the click of the door as he left without a backward glance.

Alone once more, you curled into yourself, tears streaming down your face as you clung to the only comfort you had left—the comforting click of knitting needles, weaving a fragile thread of hope amidst the darkness of your despair.

As the days passed, the oppressive atmosphere of Nottingham Castle remained unchanged. The Sheriff's indiscretions continued unabated, his cruel words and actions a constant reminder of your marginalized existence within the walls of the castle.

That night, as the grand banquet commenced, you found yourself once again relegated to the sidelines, your veil shrouding your face as you observed the festivities from afar. Your husband, reveling in the company of his guests, showed no regard for your presence, his attention focused solely on his own pleasure.

As he drank, laughed, and indulged in the company of other women, you sat silently at the table, your hands clasped tightly in your lap. The sound of his boisterous laughter grated on your nerves, a stark contrast to the heavy weight of loneliness that settled in your chest.

A young lord, curious about your veiled visage, dared to question why you weren't partaking in the feast. But before you could respond, the Sheriff intercepted with a mocking jest, his words dripping with contempt as he belittled your appearance.

"No, no," he chortled, a cruel smirk twisting his lips, "I assure you, my dear lord, no one would wish to gaze upon such a sight. Trust me, it's a horror beyond imagination."

The woman perched on your husband's lap laughed lightly at his jest, her hands caressing his chest as she showered him with affection. You forced a smile, burying your pain deep within as you remained silent, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing your tears.

As the festivities continued, your attention was drawn to Emily, the sweet child you had befriended. You watched with concern as she struggled to serve the lords, the weight of the wine jug proving too much for her fragile frame.

When one of the lords raised his hand to strike her for a minor spill, you could no longer stand idly by. Rising from your seat with determination, you intervened, placing yourself between Emily and her assailant.

"No!" you exclaimed, your voice firm and commanding as you shielded Emily from harm, "You will not lay a hand on her."

The furious lord stood up and shouted at you, his face contorted with rage. The sheriff's brow furrowed in annoyance at the commotion. Ignoring the woman on his lap who was still showering him with kisses, he focused his attention on the unfolding scene before him.

"Enough!" he barked, his voice cutting through the air like a whip as he rose from his seat, his dark mood surfacing with palpable intensity. "What is the meaning of this disturbance?"

The lord turned to the Sheriff, his anger unabated as he pointed an accusing finger in your direction. "Sheriff, this woman dares to defy me, to interfere with my rightful authority over the servants. She must be punished!"

The Sheriff's eyes narrowed, his gaze flickering briefly to you before returning to the lord. "Is that so?" he replied, his tone laced with cold authority, "And what offense has my wife committed to warrant your ire?"

The lord sputtered in outrage, struggling to find words as he floundered under the Sheriff's piercing stare. But before he could respond, the Sheriff intervened once more, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Leave her be," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument as he fixed the lord with a steely gaze, "I will not tolerate such petty displays of power in my presence. Return to your seat, and let this matter be forgotten."

The lord hesitated for a moment, his pride wounded by the Sheriff's rebuke, but ultimately, he relented, shooting you a venomous glare before retreating to his place at the table.

As the room fell silent once more, the Sheriff turned his attention to you, his expression unreadable as he regarded you with a mix of curiosity and intrigue. And in that moment, you saw something in his eyes that gave you pause, a glimmer of something unexpected beneath the veneer of his usual indifference.

Feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you at your husband's intervention, you seized the opportunity to act. Without another word, you quickly made your way to Emily's side, offering her a reassuring smile as you guided her out of the room, grateful for the chance to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the banquet hall.

Later, as you reflected on the events of the evening in the quiet solitude of your chambers, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of gratitude towards the Sheriff for coming to your aid. Despite the complexities of your relationship, his actions had shown a rare glimpse of compassion, one that you couldn't ignore.

Perhaps, you thought to yourself, there was more to your husband than met the eye. And as you contemplated the possibility of thanking him later, you couldn't help but wonder if there was still hope for understanding and connection amidst the shadows of Nottingham Castle.

A soft creak echoed from his bedroom, followed by the gentle click of the door closing. Hope flickered within you, prompting you to hasten to the side door that led to her husband's bedroom, eager to convey your appreciation.

But before you could reach for the handle, the muffled laughter of women emanating from inside halted you in your tracks. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach as the reality of your husband's actions washed over you once again.

Your footsteps faltered, and you withdrew from the door, the weight of disappointment pressing down on you like a heavy burden. With a heavy heart, you turned away, retreating to the solitude of your bed as you sought to drown out the sounds of your husband's revelry with other women.

As the laughter grew louder, echoing through the walls of the castle, you buried your face in your hands, tears stinging your eyes as you grappled with the pain of betrayal. Once again, the cruel reminder of your husband's infidelity shattered whatever fragile hope had begun to take root in your heart.

Feeling a wave of sadness wash over you, you closed your eyes and tried to shut out the world, seeking solace in the darkness of your own thoughts. But no matter how hard you tried to block out the sounds, they persisted, a constant reminder of the loneliness and despair that plagued your existence within the castle walls.

With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to another night of solitude, the echoes of your husband's laughter mingling with the distant sound of your own muffled sobs. In the silence of your chambers, you clung to the fleeting hope that someday, somehow, you might find a way to break free from the chains that bound you to this life of misery and betrayal.

And then, unexpectedly as the days passed, the atmosphere within Nottingham Castle grew increasingly tense. The Sheriff’s mysterious illness had left him bedridden and delirious with fever. His aggressive outbursts terrified the maids who attempted to tend to him.

You remained isolated in your chambers, indifferent to the Sheriff's plight, convincing yourself that he didn't deserve your care or concern. But deep down, a part of you still couldn't shake the lingering sense of worry and compassion for the man who was your husband, despite everything.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the castle grounds, a frantic knocking at your door shattered the silence of your solitude. Startled, you rose from your seat by the fire, your heart pounding in your chest as you made your way to answer the summons.

Opening the door, you were greeted by the sight of one of the maids, her face pale and her eyes wide with fear. "Lady [Your Name]," she gasped, her voice trembling with urgency, "the Sheriff... he's taken a turn for the worse. We can't... we don't know what to do..."

Without waiting for her to finish, you pushed past her, a sense of dread settling in the pit of your stomach as you hurried towards the Sheriff's chambers. As you entered the dimly lit room, the sight that greeted you made your blood run cold.

The Sheriff lay sprawled across the bed, his long black hair matted with sweat and his brow furrowed in pain. His eyes, normally sharp and piercing, were clouded with fever-induced delirium, and his once-strong frame seemed frail and vulnerable beneath the layers of blankets.

"Get away from me, you wretched wench!" he snarled, his voice hoarse and guttural as he thrashed about in a fever-induced frenzy, "I'll have your head for this!"

The maids cowered in fear at his aggressive outburst, shrinking back against the walls as they attempted to evade his flailing limbs. But you remained undeterred, steeling yourself against the Sheriff's aggression as you approached the bed with determined resolve.

"Enough," you commanded, your voice firm and unwavering as you reached out to restrain him, "You will not harm these women. They are here to help you, whether you like it or not."

The Sheriff's eyes widened in momentary surprise at your defiance, his struggles faltering as he regarded you with a mix of confusion and disbelief. But before he could respond, a violent fit of coughing wracked his body, leaving him gasping for breath and weak with exhaustion.

As the maids rushed to his side with water and herbs, you took charge of the situation, issuing orders and directing their efforts with calm authority. Despite your reservations and the lingering resentment you harbored towards the Sheriff, you couldn't stand by and watch him suffer without trying to help.

Day by day, you faithfully stood by the Sheriff's side, attending to his needs and diligently observing his condition. Despite his initial resistance and aggression, he gradually grew more accepting of your presence, his fever-induced delirium giving way to moments of clarity and lucidity.

As you sat next to the Sheriff's bed, your fingers moved deftly over the knitting needles, the soft click-click of the yarn providing a comforting rhythm in the dimly lit chamber. The Sheriff lay still, his brow furrowed in discomfort despite the damp cloth you had placed on his forehead to soothe his fever.

"What are you doing?" His voice, rough and hoarse, cut through the silence, breaking your concentration.

You glanced up from your knitting, meeting the Sheriff's brown eyes with a mixture of concern and determination. "I'm knitting," you replied simply, your tone absentminded as you focused on your task, "a blanket, for you."

The Sheriff's gaze lingered on you, his expression unreadable as he processed your words. "A blanket?" he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find his voice amidst the fog of illness.

You nodded, your fingers never pausing in their work as you explained, "Yes, you said you felt very cold. I thought... I thought a warmer blanket might help."

For a moment, there was silence between you, the only sound the steady rhythm of your knitting needles. Then, the Sheriff spoke again, his voice low and hesitant, "Why... why are you still wearing that veil?"

Before you could respond, the Sheriff continued, his tone softer this time, almost gentle in its insistence. "We're alone, [Your Name]," he murmured, his brown eyes meeting yours with a mixture of sympathy and understanding, "You don't need to wear the veil while it's just the two of us."

His words struck a chord within you, stirring a sense of vulnerability that you had long buried beneath layers of self-preservation. With trembling fingers, you reached up to loosen the veil that concealed your scar, setting it aside with a mixture of reluctance and resignation.

As you hesitantly met the Sheriff's gaze, you saw something flicker behind his eyes, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that mirrored your own. But before you could dwell too long on the significance of the moment, he looked away, his attention drifting to the flickering flames of the hearth.

You felt your heart sink at his dismissal, the weight of disappointment settling heavily in your chest. But you refused to cry, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing your pain. Instead, you turned away, retreating into the familiar comfort of your knitting, the rhythmic click-click of the needles a soothing balm for your wounded soul.

In the silence that followed, you couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath the Sheriff's stoic facade. You knew that he carried his own burdens, his own secrets and regrets hidden behind the mask of authority and power. And as you sat with your back to him, lost in your thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to him than met the eye.

Meanwhile, the Sheriff's mind drifted back to memories of his mother, a distant figure from his childhood who had been both loving and strict in equal measure. He remembered the way she used to knit by the fire, her hands moving deftly over the needles as she crafted blankets and scarves with care and precision.

The memory of her gentle touch and comforting presence brought a pang of longing to his heart, a reminder of the love he had lost long ago. And as he watched you sitting by the fire, lost in your own world of needles and yarn, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of something unfamiliar stirring within him.

For the first time in years, the Sheriff found himself questioning the walls he had built around his heart, wondering if perhaps there was still room for warmth and compassion amidst the cold, unforgiving halls of Nottingham Castle. And as he watched you knit, a sense of hope blossomed within him, a flickering flame of possibility amidst the shadows of his past.

Later that night, as the flickering flames of the hearth cast dancing shadows across the chamber, the Sheriff's fevered dreams transported him back to his childhood home. In his delirium, he called out for his mother, his voice raw with desperation as he reached out into the darkness, seeking the comforting embrace of her presence.

You stirred from your sleep at the sound of his anguished cries, your heart twisting with sympathy as you watched him twitch and thrash in his fevered state. With gentle hands, you reached out to shake him awake, whispering soothing words of reassurance as you tried to calm his restless slumber.

"Shh, it's alright," you murmured, your voice soft and gentle as you brushed a lock of his unruly black hair away from his fever-flushed face, "You're safe here, Sheriff. It's just a dream."

But the Sheriff's delirium persisted, his cries growing louder as he begged for his mother's presence, his brown eyes wide with fear and confusion. In his fevered state, he mistook you for her, reaching out to grasp your hand with a desperate urgency that tore at your heartstrings.

"Mother, don't leave me," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion as he clung to you with a desperation that spoke of long-buried pain and longing, "Please, I need you."

Your heart ached at his distress, the weight of his suffering pressing down on you like a heavy burden. But you refused to let him succumb to his nightmares, determined to bring him back to reality with whatever means necessary.

With a sense of resolve, you assumed the role of his mother, your voice taking on a gentle lilt as you spoke to him with soothing words of comfort and reassurance. "There, there, Sheriff," you murmured, your tone soft and maternal as you stroked his fevered brow, "Everything will be alright. Mother's here, just like always."

But the Sheriff's fevered mind refused to accept your presence, his delusions clouding his perception as he continued to beg for his mother's return. "Mother, please," he pleaded, his voice breaking with despair as he clung to you with trembling hands, "Don't leave me alone. Not again."

You felt a pang of sadness at his words, a glimpse into the depths of his pain and loneliness that he had kept hidden from the world. But you refused to let him drown in despair, refusing to let him suffer alone in the darkness of his past.

"Shh, George," you whispered, your voice gentle but firm as you looked into his eyes with unwavering determination, "It's alright. I'm here with you, just like I promised. You're not alone, Sheriff. You never will be."

For a moment, there was silence between you, the only sound the soft rustle of blankets as the Sheriff's breathing gradually steadied. And as he looked up at you with tear-filled eyes, a flicker of recognition sparked behind the haze of his delirium.

"Mother?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached out to touch your face with trembling fingers, "Is it... is it really you?"

You nodded, your own eyes brimming with tears as you gazed into his, "Yes, George," you replied, your voice tender and full of compassion, "It's me. I'm here for you, just like always."

But the Sheriff shook his head, his brow furrowed in confusion as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. "No," he protested, his voice growing more insistent with each passing moment, "You're not... you can't be... my mother. My mother is..."

His voice trailed off, his gaze distant as memories from his past flooded his mind with overwhelming intensity. And as he looked at you with a mixture of longing and despair, you realized the depth of his pain, the wounds of his childhood still raw and unhealed after all these years.

With a heavy heart, you reached out to him, your hand trembling slightly as you brushed his fevered brow with gentle fingers. "You're right, George," you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur, "I'm not your mother. But I am your wife, and I'll take care of you."

The Sheriff's brown eyes flickered with recognition as he gazed up at you, his expression softening with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. And in that moment, you saw something shift within him, a glimmer of understanding and acceptance that transcended the barriers of his fevered delusions.

But as you leaned in closer, your heart pounding in your chest, the Sheriff's gaze suddenly shifted to your face, his eyes lingering on the scar that marred your features. And before you could brace yourself for his reaction, he spoke, his voice hoarse and raw with emotion.

"You're ugly," he whispered, his words like a dagger to your heart as you recoiled from his cruel assessment. The pain of his rejection cut deep, reopening old wounds that had never fully healed, and you felt the sting of tears welling up in your eyes.

Without a word, you turned away, your shoulders trembling with the weight of his harsh words. The veil of self-preservation that you had carefully constructed around your heart threatened to crumble, leaving you exposed and vulnerable in the wake of his callous dismissal.

But before you could retreat further into the shadows of your despair, the Sheriff reached out, his hand wrapping around your wrist with unexpected tenderness. "Wait," he implored, his voice soft but determined as he pulled you back towards him, "Don't go. I... I don't want to be alone."

You hesitated, torn between the instinct to protect yourself and the overwhelming urge to comfort him in his time of need. And as you looked into his brown eyes, searching for a glimmer of sincerity amidst the darkness of his words, you saw something shift within him, a flicker of remorse and regret that mirrored your own.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the crackling of the fire, "I didn't mean... I didn't mean to hurt you. Please, stay. I need you."

His words touched something deep within you, stirring a sense of compassion and empathy that you hadn't felt in a long time. And as you gazed into his eyes, seeing the pain and vulnerability hidden beneath the mask of authority and power, you knew that you couldn't turn your back on him, not now, not when he needed you the most.

With a heavy sigh, you relented, nodding your head in silent agreement as you wiped away the tears that stained your cheeks. "I'll stay," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, "I'll take care of you, George. You're not alone."

And as you reached for your veil, the familiar weight of its fabric settling against your skin, you felt a sense of resignation wash over you. You would hide your scar, bury them beneath layers of silk and lace, to spare him from the ugliness of your past.

But as you adjusted the veil over your face, obscuring your scar from his view, you couldn't help but wonder if there was still hope for understanding and acceptance amidst the shadows of Nottingham Castle. And as you settled back into your seat by the fire, knitting needles in hand, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together, scar and all.

Days later, as the sun cast its golden rays across the stone walls of Nottingham Castle, the Sheriff finally showed signs of recovery from his illness. Though his body remained weak, the fever that had plagued him for days had finally broken, leaving him with a newfound sense of clarity and strength.

You stood by his bedside, helping him dress and offering words of encouragement as he struggled to regain his strength. Despite the lingering traces of exhaustion that still clung to him, there was a glimmer of determination in his eyes, a silent resolve to overcome the ordeal that had nearly claimed his life.

As you adjusted his garments, there came a sharp rap at the bedroom door, the sound echoing through the chamber like a gunshot. The Sheriff's brow furrowed in annoyance at the interruption, but he waved you aside with a dismissive gesture, granting permission for the visitor to enter.

The door swung open, revealing the imposing figure of Sir Guy of Gisbourne, his tall frame silhouetted against the light streaming in from the corridor. His sharp features were set in a mask of concern, his piercing gaze fixed on the Sheriff as he stepped into the room with purposeful strides.

"Sheriff," Sir Guy began, his voice a deep rumble that filled the chamber with authority, "I've come to check on your condition. I trust that you're feeling better?"

The Sheriff nodded curtly, his gaze steady as he regarded his loyal lieutenant with a mixture of gratitude and suspicion. "Yes, Sir Guy," he replied, his voice raspy but resolute, "I'm on the mend, thanks to Lady [Your Name]'s care."

At the mention of your name, Sir Guy's eyes flickered briefly in your direction, his expression unreadable as he took in the sight of you assisting the Sheriff. And then, as if noticing something for the first time, his gaze lingered on your face, his brow furrowing in confusion.

You felt a surge of apprehension as Sir Guy's eyes roved over your features, the scar on your face laid bare for all to see. The silence stretched between you, thick with tension and unspoken judgment, until finally, Sir Guy broke the uneasy stillness with a low chuckle.

"Well, well," he remarked, his tone laced with amusement, "So this is why you wear that veil. I must say, Sheriff, I've never seen anything quite so... striking."

Sheriff narrowed his eyes at Sir Guy of Gisbourne, his brow furrowing in confusion and irritation at the man's cryptic remark. "What do you mean?" he demanded, his voice low and tense with suspicion.

Sir Guy of Gisbourne smiled, a cold smirk twisting his lips as he met the Sheriff's gaze with icy indifference. "I mean exactly what I said, cousin," he replied, his tone dripping with disdain, "I've never seen anything quite so ugly in all my life."

The Sheriff's eyes widened in shock at Sir Guy's brutal assessment, his stomach churning with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "What are you talking about?" he growled, his voice rough with suppressed rage.

Sir Guy's smile widened, a cruel glint in his eyes as he stepped closer to the Sheriff, his voice laced with mockery. "Oh, come now, George," he taunted, "Surely even you can't deny the truth. I've heard the rumors, seen the way you've kept her hidden away like a shameful secret. And now that I've seen her face for myself, I understand why."

The Sheriff saw red, his vision clouded with a haze of rage as he took a step towards Sir Guy, his fists clenched in readiness for a fight. He didn't know where he found the strength, the courage to defy his loyal lieutenant, but in that moment, all he could see was red, all he could feel was the burning need to defend his honor, his wife's honor, against Sir Guy's cruel words.

With a primal roar of rage, the Sheriff launched himself at Sir Guy, his fists flying in a flurry of punches aimed at the other man's face. He saw the shock in Sir Guy's eyes, the moment of realization that he had pushed the Sheriff too far, but it was too late for apologies, too late for remorse.

As the Sheriff rained blow after blow upon Sir Guy's face, his mind filled with a white-hot fury that consumed him from within. He didn't care about the consequences, didn't care about the pain he inflicted, all he cared about was the burning need to defend his wife's honor, to silence the mockery and scorn that had plagued her for far too long.

But as he struck Sir Guy again and again, his rage slowly gave way to exhaustion, his strength waning with each passing moment. And it was only when he heard your voice, your shocked and horrified cries echoing through the chamber, that he finally came to his senses, the haze of anger dissipating like fog in the morning sun.

And as Sir Guy of Gisbourne fled the room, nursing his bruised face, you turned your attention to the Sheriff, who stood before you with a mixture of anger and confusion etched across his features. His brown eyes blazed with intensity, his long unruly black hair framing his face as he glared at you with barely restrained fury.

"Why did you stop me?" he demanded, his voice a low, rumbling baritone that filled the chamber with authority. "I was defending your honor, [Your Name]."

You recoiled at his words, disbelief washing over you like a tidal wave. "Defending my honor?" you repeated incredulously, your voice tinged with anger. "You were defending my honor?"

You took a step closer to him, your gaze locked with his as you struggled to contain the torrent of emotions raging within you. "You're the first to make fun of me, to call me ugly, to mock my scar," you spat, the bitterness of years of hurt and resentment boiling to the surface. "Did you really think I didn't know why you only fuck me from behind? You're disgusted to look at my face, so what does it matter if more people call me ugly?"

The Sheriff's expression faltered, his anger giving way to a stunned silence as he grappled with your accusations. He opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, unable to find the right words to defend himself against your searing indictment.

Finally, he shook his head, his gaze falling to the floor as shame washed over him like a tidal wave. "I... I don't know what to say," he murmured, his voice barely audible above a whisper. "I didn't realize... I didn't mean to..."

But you cut him off with a sharp gesture, your patience wearing thin in the face of his hypocrisy. "Save it," you snapped, your voice dripping with contempt. "I don't want to hear your excuses."

It was too late for apologies, too late for redemption.

"Leave," he ordered, his voice raw with emotion as he struggled to hold back the flood of regret threatening to consume him. "Just... leave."

And with one final glance over your shoulder, you obeyed, disappearing through the side door that led to your bedroom, leaving the Sheriff alone with his thoughts and the weight of his mistakes. As you slammed the door behind you, the sound reverberated through the chamber like a final, damning verdict, sealing the fate of your fractured relationship with the Sheriff of Nottingham.

As the days passed, you and the Sheriff remained distant, avoiding each other's presence whenever possible. Meals were taken separately, with you retreating to the privacy of your bedroom to eat alone, concealing your face from prying eyes. Meanwhile, the Sheriff sat alone at the table, his appetite waning as he watched the servants tend to his needs, a pang of loneliness gnawing at his heart.

For the first time since your marriage, the Sheriff realized the emptiness of his solitary meals. He had never shared a meal with you, never sat across from you and shared in the simple pleasures of conversation and companionship. But he had never cared before, content to keep you at arm's length, to avoid the sight of your scarred face.

As he chewed his food in silence, the Sheriff made a decision. It was time to bridge the gap between you, to make amends for his past mistakes and reach out to you in a way he had never dared before.

That night, he came to your bedroom, his footsteps hesitant as he approached the door. You didn't look at him as he entered, your gaze fixed on the wall as you questioned his presence.

"It's time," he said simply, his voice tinged with a mixture of determination and uncertainty. "Time to try again."

You sighed, a mix of resignation and annoyance coloring your response. But you nodded, understanding his meaning as you began to undress and prepare for what you knew would come next.

To your surprise, the Sheriff stopped you, his hand gentle as he reached out to touch your face. "No," he said softly, his brown eyes meeting yours with a newfound sense of vulnerability, "I want to see your face this time."

Anger flared within you at his request, the injustice of it burning hot in your chest. Did he think that seeing your face would somehow absolve him of his past cruelty, that he could use you to prove something to himself?

But as you met his gaze, you saw something in his eyes that gave you pause, a glimmer of genuine remorse and longing that tugged at your heartstrings. Maybe, just maybe, he was trying to make amends in his own flawed way.

With a heavy sigh, you relented, allowing him to see you as you truly were, scar and all. And as the Sheriff climbed between your legs, you couldn't help but feel a surge of discomfort mixed with resentment. You lay on your back, staring up at the ceiling, your mind swirling with conflicting emotions. His touch felt foreign and unwelcome, a stark reminder of the distance that had grown between you in the wake of his hurtful words.

You winced as he slowly penetrated you, the dryness causing a sharp pang of pain to shoot through your body. Unlike the prostitutes he was accustomed to, you were not prepared, not eager to please him in this moment. But he pressed on, seemingly oblivious to your discomfort as he sought his own pleasure.

As he moved within you, you gritted your teeth against the pain, the grimace on your face not lost on the Sheriff. He watched you intently, his brow furrowing with concern as he realized the extent of your discomfort.

Deciding to try and please you in some way, he tentatively pressed his thumb against your clit, eliciting a surprised gasp from your lips. You looked at him with a mix of embarrassment and confusion, questioning his unexpected action.

He met your gaze with a slight tilt of his head, a hint of amusement dancing in his brown eyes. "Have you never touched yourself?" he asked, his voice low and gentle, the baritone rumble sending shivers down your spine.

Blushing furiously, you shook your head, denying his assumption. "No," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own heartbeat. "I was taught... my body belongs to my husband. I was never... encouraged to... explore such things."

The Sheriff's expression softened, a pang of guilt tugging at his heart as he realized the extent of your innocence and naivety. He had never considered the possibility that you had never experienced pleasure in such a basic way, that you had been denied the simple joys of self-discovery and exploration.

He decided to change that today. The Sheriff's touch grew more confident and purposeful as he explored your body, his fingers dancing over your sensitive skin with practiced ease. With each caress, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, your body responding eagerly to his ministrations.

As he teased your clit, you couldn't help but squirm beneath him, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he brought you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. Your eyes remained closed, lost in the sensation of his touch, soft moans escaping your lips as you gave in to the pleasure that coursed through your veins.

For the first time, the Sheriff found himself captivated by your beauty, the scar on your face fading into insignificance as he watched your expression contort with pleasure. In that moment, he realized that your scar didn't define you; they only added to your allure, making you all the more irresistible in his eyes.

With a newfound sense of reverence, the Sheriff leaned in to worship you, his lips trailing kisses along your jawline and down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You cried out in pleasure as he took one of your breasts into his mouth, the sensation sending sparks of electricity coursing through your body.

As he played with you, his fingers exploring every inch of your skin, he could feel how wet you were, your arousal evident in the way you clenched around him. With a sense of satisfaction, he realized that he was the one bringing you this pleasure, the one who could make you scream his name in ecstasy.

"Open your eyes," he commanded, his voice low and husky as he gazed into your eyes, searching for a sign of approval. And when you complied, meeting his gaze with a mixture of desire and uncertainty, he smiled, a sense of triumph coursing through him.

"It's good, isn't it?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty as he awaited your response.

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you. But your actions spoke volumes as you arched against him, your body craving more of his touch, more of his love.

Encouraged by your response, the Sheriff leaned in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue darting out to explore the depths of your mouth with a hunger that took your breath away. It was unlike any kiss you had ever experienced, wild and uninhibited, as if he wanted to consume you whole.

You moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled by the intensity of his kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his long, unruly hair. And as you kissed him back with equal fervor, you felt a sense of connection, a bond forged in the heat of passion and desire.

As the Sheriff's lips met yours in a fervent kiss, something shifted within him, a realization dawning with startling clarity. In that moment, amidst the heat of passion and the tangled embrace of your bodies, he understood.

He wanted you.

Not just in a physical sense, though the desire burned within him with an intensity he had never known. No, it was more than that. He wanted all of you – your strength, your resilience, your unwavering compassion in the face of his own shortcomings.

He loved you.

The realization hit him like a thunderbolt, fierce and indomitable, shaking him to his core. He loved you, scars and all, with a love that was raw and unrefined, untamed like the wild forests that surrounded Nottingham Castle.

He remembered the days when you had tended to him with unwavering dedication, the gentleness of your touch a balm for his fevered soul. He remembered the moments of vulnerability you had shared, the way you had looked at him with eyes full of compassion, as if seeing beyond the mask of authority to the wounded heart beneath.

And he remembered the night when he had lashed out at you with cruel words, the pain and betrayal etched in your tear-stained face. He had seen the hurt he had caused reflected in your eyes, a stark reminder of the damage he had wrought with his thoughtless actions.

But despite it all, you had stayed by his side, offering forgiveness where others would have turned away in disgust. You had shown him a kindness he didn't deserve, a love he hadn't known he craved until now.

As he kissed you with a hunger born of newfound understanding, the Sheriff vowed to make amends, to prove himself worthy of the love you had so freely given. He would show you that his love was not a fleeting fancy, but a force to be reckoned with, a flame that burned bright amidst the darkness of their fractured relationship.

And as he held you close, his heart racing with the intensity of his emotions, he knew that he would do whatever it took to win back your trust, to earn the right to call you his own.

For in that moment, amidst the tangled sheets and the tangled mess of their past, the Sheriff of Nottingham realized that he was in love with you, scars and all. And he would stop at nothing to prove it to you, to show you that his love was as fierce and untamed as the forests that surrounded their home.

As the passion between you and the Sheriff intensified, the air in the room crackled with electricity, charged with the raw desire that pulsed between you. His hands roamed over your body with a newfound confidence, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.

With each kiss, each caress, the Sheriff explored you as if he were uncovering a hidden treasure, his fingers tracing the contours of your body with reverence and hunger. And as he pressed his lips against your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, you gasped in pleasure, your body arching against him in silent invitation.

"Gods, you're beautiful," he murmured against your neck, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "I've been blind to your beauty for far too long."

His words washed over you like a soothing balm, banishing the lingering doubts and insecurities that had plagued you for years. In that moment, all that mattered was the intense connection between you, the overwhelming desire that threatened to consume you both.

With a sense of urgency, the Sheriff lowered himself between your legs, his mouth trailing hot kisses along your thighs as he teased you with his tongue. You gasped as he delved deeper, his skilled ministrations sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Please," you begged, your voice a breathless whisper as you pleaded for more, "Don't stop."

But the Sheriff had no intention of stopping, not when he was so close to unlocking the secrets of your pleasure. With a wicked grin, he intensified his efforts, his tongue flicking against your clit with increasing fervor as he brought you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

You cried out his name as the first waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body convulsing in ecstasy as he continued to pleasure you with single-minded determination. And as you reached your peak, the Sheriff's name fell from your lips like a prayer, a testament to the depth of your desire for him.

But he wasn't satisfied yet, not when there was still so much more pleasure to be had. With a growl of hunger, he rose above you, his eyes dark with desire as he claimed your lips in a searing kiss.

"I need you," he whispered against your lips, his voice husky with desire as he positioned himself at your entrance. "I need to be inside you, to feel you around me."

You nodded eagerly, your own need driving you to desperation as you wrapped your legs around him, urging him to take you. And as he entered you with a single, powerful thrust, you cried out in ecstasy, the sensation of him filling you completely overwhelming your senses.

The Sheriff's movements were slow and deliberate at first, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. But as the intensity of your passion grew, so too did the pace of his movements, his hips driving against yours with increasing urgency as he sought his own release.

You matched him thrust for thrust, meeting his every movement with equal fervor as you lost yourselves in the heat of passion. And as the tension between you reached its breaking point, you cried out in unison, your bodies shuddering with the force of your shared release.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breaths mingling with the echoes of your pleasure, the world around you fading into insignificance as you lay entwined in each other's arms.

And as you basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking, you knew that things would never be the same between you and the Sheriff of Nottingham. But somehow, that thought didn't scare you. In fact, it filled you with a sense of hope, a belief that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for redemption amidst the darkness of Nottingham Castle.

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #sheriff of nottingham x reader #sheriff of nottingham #robin hood

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batsflyaway · 2 months ago

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introduction !

okay... hello! i am so nervous to be writing this, as this is my first tumblr account! im very new to this, but oh my gods, i'm taking forever to introduce myself! my name is kat, and i am a minor. i use she/they/he/him/them pronouns, so essentially all but her :)

onto my religion! yes, this blog is a devotional blog for aphrodite. although, i am not exactly a hellenic polytheist. i feel most comfortable being helpol adjacent, maybe calling myself helpol sometimes, but for the most part being unlabelled.

i have only been practicing a few months, and i feel mother aphrodite and me have grown close! i also worship athena, and am considering worshipping selene. i will hopefully soon call myself devoted to mother aphrodite!

i also do tarot readings, and may open a shop for it in the future, but for now, they're free!

i suppose i talk about myself now??.. im not sure lol

i like how to train your dragon, brooklyn 99, mitski, the cure. i guess i would consider myself goth! although i don't dress it, i more have the political views and etc.

i suspect myself of adhd, and i don't want to self-diagnose (as it can be damaging, i know that) but i do heavily feel i have it.

i do really love music, and as mentioned before, mitski and the cure specifically!! honourable mentions from them are 'hot hot hot!!!', 'valentine, texas' and 'i don't smoke - audiotree live' <3

my favourite colour is a dark red (like my profile picture as of writing this), and i heavily associate it with mother aphrodite, but specifically her praxis (sexual action), areia (warlike - of ares) and androphonos (killer of men (probably not literal males, perhaps just men as the umbrella term for humans, adding to the war aspect!)) oh my gods sorry for my little aphrodite yap.

i'm unsure of what else to add, except for a little summary!! so, to conclude, my name is kat (she/they/he/him/them pronouns!), i'm a minor, this blog is a devotional blog for aphrodite, and i'll hopefully do content for her and whoever reads this lol! and im sort of helpol :p

okay, thanks for reading <33

creds to @uzmacchiato for the roses dividers! not the ones on the top or bottom, i got them from pinterest a bit ago, so i can't give credit! :(

#hellenic polytheism #hellenic deities #hellenic worship #aphrodite #deity worship #devotional blog

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ddwcaph-game · 7 months ago

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Update Previews!

Today's update post has three new changes/additions:

New Character Development Variables for F6E

New Difficulty Settings

Trait and EXP Updates

Before I show the previews, I just wanna say that after this update, I'll try to focus more on the story, and less on the gameplay stuff. I've actually gotten a bunch of breakthroughs with the story recently, so look forward to the introduction posts of the other two crush options soon!

New Character Development Variables for F6E

I'm thinking of adding a second set of character development variables for F6E! While the primary purpose of the first set of variables is to determine how major story branches will play out, the second set is intended to be less impactful, and only affect flavor text and dialogue.

New Difficulty Settings

Instead of the starting twin relationship traits secretly modifying your NP cost and NP recovery stats, I decided to add new difficulty settings to the last choice in the prologue.

Here are the difficulty modifiers:

🟢 Slice-of-Life Difficulty: +10% Overall EXP, +25 Max NP, +12% NP Recovery, -20% NP Costs when retconning stat checks, Stat Penalties from 🤯 [HEADACHE!!!] are capped at 25% 🟡 Adventure Difficulty: Normal EXP, NP Cost, and NP Recovery modifiers 🔴 Superhero Difficulty: -10% Overall EXP, -25 Max NP, -12% NP Recovery, +50% NP Costs when retconning stat checks 🔥 Apocalyptic Difficulty: -33% Overall EXP, -50 Max NP, -12% NP Recovery, +100% NP Costs when retconning stat checks, Stat Penalties from 🤯 [HEADACHE!!!] are 25% Worse

It's important to note that the difficulty settings DO NOT change the stat check requirements, so this wouldn't really affect you much if you don't use NP very often. Your Max NP is now also tied to your Total EXP gained (you gain 1 Max NP for every 2,500 EXP gained instead of gaining Max NP every chapter), so that's why the settings give EXP Bonuses/Penalties. Of course, these are all subject to changes later.

Trait and EXP Updates

As I've said before, I'm reworking the "bucket list" idea to be much simpler. Some traits/passives will now give a small amount of EXP when you pick certain choices.

I'm adding these bonuses to make picking traits more impactful, make gaining EXP more meaningful, and to add a sense of progression/character development for your MC. For example, Troublemaker MCs will now gain a small amount of EXP when picking Sensible/Disciplined choices.

Here's the full list of additions:

The EXP bonuses are minor enough (most choices will only give around 10-30 EXP), so you won't really miss out on much if your Troublemaker MC wants to keep causing chaos anyway. The bonuses do stack however, so we'll see if the numbers need adjusting in the future.

The EXP Notification won't appear if you gain EXP this way, so don't worry about extra clutter! Speaking of, I actually found a bunch of bugs that made certain Traits give more/less EXP all the time while coding, so whoops! 😅 It's not really game-breaking so I'll just include the fix with the next update.

Anyway, that's all I got for now. Let me know what you think of the new changes!

#ddwcaph development #interactive fiction

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fiorella-a · 2 years ago

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A secret to be kept

Streamer! Aged up! Future! Kenma x Reader

Concept:

-While playing a horror game full of jumpscares, he blurted out something– and that something was supposed to be a surprise for you.

Info:

-Gn! Reader

-Fluff

-Some cussing here and there

•Kodzuken is online

•Kodzuken's stream will start in 1 minute!

•Kodzuken is now live, click to join!

"Hello Everyone. Good evening, afternoon or morning to each of you here. Today we are playing a game called?"

"The hunt!" You say excitedly, "Me and Kenma are in a call because I'm currently visiting a friend."

Kenma smiles at the camera while nodding at your words.

Chat:

:LMAO THOUGHT U KICKED THEM OUT 😭😠

:Heard that's a scary game

:Start! Start! Start! ✊✊✊

Kenma pauses while reading the chat, "alright Calm down and let's play the game, Y/n do you wanna read the game's information?"

"This game is in beta and is currently being observed for issues or bugs, please leave your reviews on what should be changed or whatnot.

Warning: this game will contain jumpscares out of nowhere. For those with weak hearts, please exit the game immediately.

You and your friends (recommended to play in multiplayer) decided to go camping out in Icho Woods, that's famous for it's haunted stories. Finding out there is no such thing as Icho Woods, you are now stuck in the middle of nowhere and desperately surviving. But hey! At least the haunted stories are true, though.

The game is fictional, anything that references in real life is pure coincedence."

After reading, you breathe in and out, "that was breathtaking. Now let's go on, shall we?"

Kenma nods his head before replying to you, "let's go."

Chat

:GOODLUCK YA'LL

:Hi! One of the developers here, hope you enjoy it :)

:NO WAY

:GET THE SCREENSHOTS YA'LL

:Blessing to be in this stream fr 😩

:(2)

"Okayyy we spawned in" you say in a surprised tone

"One of the creators of the game is here. I recommend adding a short cutscene of how we got here." Kenma looks at the camera and smiles politely.

Chat:

:The smile‼️‼️

:We're working on it! We're also planning on adding more lives for the players.

:AYO THE DEVELOPERS ARE SO NICE

A crawl was heard along with the sound of cracking bones. "What the hell was that? If i could be an emoji, it'd be the crying one" You say as you laugh nervously

Kenma chuckles at you, "No need to be af– THE FUCK?" Kenma swears as he gets killed.

Chat:

:We're working on that bug! If you stay at the spawn too long it'll kill you, promise we're working on it.

:Developers sweating nervously 💀

:LMAO STOP IT 😭

"Okay, I got killed too, yay!" You say still clearly nervous.

"Alright, follow me, love. I see a shed over there" Kenma says as he goes in first before your character follows along.

"We won't get killed here, right?" Kenma says jokingly

Chat:

:Nope! ☺️

:IMAGINE IF THE ROOF BREAKS AND THEY DIE

Kenma smiles at the chats.

"There's a battery here, i think it's for a light? A car? I'm not sure." You say to Kenma and at the chat.

"Oh, is that all?" "Yeah" "Alright, let's go out."

As Kenma opens the door at the shed, the monster was lurking around and spotted them. Giving them a thrill-chase. The monster climbs onto a tree before finally ending them.

"FUCK WILL YOU MARRY ME"

"HUH?!"

Chat:

:AYO KENMA?

:As developers, we didn't expect to help in a marriage.

:BRO IS DOWN BAD

:📷📸

Kenma coughs as he realizes what he said "Let's exit the game."

"Sure, sure." You agreed and followed along with him.

Once you both left the game, Kenma spoke again "Once you get home from your trip, we can talk about what I said" He says as he turns off his camera at the stream.

"Alrighty, Love."

"I'll end the stream now, don't worry, we'll leave in a review afterwards. Goodbye, chat"

"Babye, everyone!" You say with excitement.

Chat:

:*Gets onto knees* will u marry me bb? LMAO

:STOP MAKING FUN OF HIM, HE'S CLEARLY FLUSTERED YA'LL

:Bye for the two of you <33

:Looking forward to the reviews! Thank you and enjoy your happy life ❤️

:BYE BYE KENMA & BYEBYE Y/N!

•Stream ended 13 seconds ago

•Kenma is offline

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fishnoodles · 1 month ago

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The Drugs, The Strokes, The Future: Albert Comes Clean

Albert Hammond Jr, photographed on 10th Street, Manhattan, August 15th 2013

On the cusp of releasing a new solo EP on Julian Casablancas' label, Albert Hammond Jr opens up to Matt Wilkinson about some very toxic relationships

Mirror of an interview of Albert Hammond Jr by Matt Wilkinson for NME, originally published ~7th September 2013. Photos by Guy Eppel.

I hear Albert Hammond Jr before I can see him. Lying horizontally on a couch by the window of The Strokes' managers' office in Manhattan's East village, he offers an LA-infused drawl of "Hey, maaaaan" from the shadows. When I do clock him, he's surrounded by mementos of former glories - NME Awards, a huge map with loads of pins punched into every continent conquered, gold records, platinum records, framed magazine covers blown up to beyond life-size proportions. Even the coffee mugs here bear the words "The Strokes" in big, bold blockbuster letters. It seems like the perfect place for a bunch of savvy New Yorkers to plot world domination.

But of course, The Strokes haven't been doing much of that lately. As 'Comedown Machine' came and went - perhaps the most low-key album release ever by an active band who still mean anything to anyone - their radio silence spoke volumes, vast tombs of lingering questions left agonisingly unanswered, about the band's personal relationships and their future as whole.

Today, with Albert gearing up to release 'AHJ', a new solo EP on Julian Casablancas' label Cult Records, we get some way closer to the source of that silence. From the off, his enthusiasm for the record is infectious. Produced by long-time cohort Gus Oberg and with Julian offering advice on an almost-daily basis, he's convinced the songs are the best he's ever written on his own. What's more, he's champing at the bit to get back on the road with his solo band - it's what he wants to do "more than anything". What'd top it all off? "I'll play anything, man, literally anywhere," he laughs, adding that a support slot with Arctic Monkeys would do nicely. But perhaps the most arresting aspect of our chat is the 33-year-old's own story. This is his first solo sit-down interview in years, and he's keen to open up.

The funny thing about 'AHJ' is that, just like on Albert's first two solo albums - 'Yours to Keep' (2006) and '¿Cómo Te Llama?' (2008) - most people are likely to overlook the depth of the lyrics. Like all The Strokes' best material, his songs are happy-go-lucky garage-rockers on the surface. But whereas Julian's words are often cryptic, Albert's open up an altogether more confessional front. On 'Strange Tidings', where he sounds uncannily like Tom Petty, he sings, "I can't believe I lost my mind".

In 2009, Albert undertook a well-reported rehab stint, which he discussed to some extent when The Strokes gave interviews around the release of 'Angles', back in 2011. None of them went as far as to detail the true extent of his problems, however. Heroin was mentioned, but then so were exhaustion and relationship woes.

"Around the second album, I'd say, 'I was in a dark place, dude, I was in a very dark place," he says today, jesting at his understatement. "I'm just now being able to understand or speak about that time, and it's been almost four years." He'd "always" done drugs, he says, but from 2006-2009 things got out of control. "It was, like, oxycontin and cocaine at 24, 25, 26. And then I became {addicted to} heroin around then. So from 26, 27 'til 29..."

Today, resplendent in short-sleeved black tee, black jeans, and black Converse, he's teetotal and altogether happier.

"It's not so much that I wasn't in a happy place; I was just... God knows where I was. I was just very high. That's where I was."

How bad did it get?

"I mean, do you want me to get specific? I don't mind, but yeah, I used to shoot cocaine, heroin and ketamine. All together. Morning, night, 20 times a day. You know, I was a mess. I look back and I don't even recognise myself. I did my own thing. I mean, you have moments when you're fine. And if someone meets you, you seem fine. But I remember when I was showing someone music and I was wearing a short shirt and (points to wrists)... there were just purple {track marks} all the way down here. And then they would call someone - 'Did you see Albert, he looks crazy?' That's where I learned to wear long sleeves. I've had these tattoos forever and I {still} have people coming up, "Oh, you've had new tattoos?" I'm like, "No , you just haven't seen me with a short shirt on..."

The Strokes, shot in 2011 while promoting 'Angles'

He laughs as I tell him I thought exactly that when I walked in today. He's recently read and been surprised at NME's Peter Doherty cover feature, where the Babyshambles man described his own failed attempts to get clean.

"I didn't really understand what he was saying. He was like, 'If you reach a certain point and you don't stop, you might as well keep on going.' I thought, 'Huh? No, it makes sense you should stop.'"

With Peter, I reply, I think it's more about keeping him in as safe a place as possible these days.

"I don't want to be that. I don't want to be that. I think drugs were a great way to get out of your head. You enjoy that for a while, it helps you to go to new places. But then it stops you from growing and puts you in a place where you're just not as good as you could be - for me. I'm not judging. I did it hard and for a long time, so I'm in no place to judge, nor would I. Something clicked one day, and I got out of it."

Albert's open to talking about this stuff now, because "I felt like I never got across how I was feeling" during 'Angles'' press campaign. But he's still cautious about discussing what you'd imagine to be a less difficult topic: The Strokes.

"When you're doing your own music that you're excited about, to talk about Strokes stuff - things get sensationalised so easily."

I respond that I can't not ask about The Strokes' that every fan of theirs in the world is wondering what the fuck's going on right now.

"No, of course, but also there has to be an understanding I'm one fifth of something, and I don't want it to come across to our fans that I called this interview to speak about stuff, {as if} I'm taking advantage of {the opportunity}. I hold very dear what we have together as friends. I'm just very careful at how things get said, because I don't want something to be misunderstood and then become the face of saying that stuff."

He doesn't mind chatting about The Strokes, but he won't really talk about them. On their future plans? Nothing concrete, apparently. Touring prospects?

"No comment."

I ask him why the band didn't do interviews around the last album.

"We just made a decision to keep a {lid on it}. We thought it'd be cool to keep a quietness to it, to see what a record would do {if you could only} listen to it."

Fair point, but it jars with what he says about the 'Angles' interview campaign, where the band were painted as being at loggerheads. "Look, I feel like {the press} got everything wrong," he says of that time.

So why not get the five of you together now to put it right?

"But what would be the...? It just seems that... I don't even know the words. It'd just be weird."

Ask him where, figuratively speaking, the five Strokes are at the minute, and he paints a sunnier picture ("We're in a great place!"). He played with guitarist Nick Valensi at a Dylan tribute concert in Dublin recently, has worked with Julian on 'AHJ', is still tight with bassist Nikolai Fraiture and drummer Fab Moretti.

"I hold what The Strokes have as friends very dear" - Albert Hammond Jr

I witness it for myself during NME's photo shoot. We're stood outside the offices on Manhattan's sunny streets with Albert, when at the end of the road we spot the unmistakable figure of a moustachioed Fab. The two men catch a glimpse, wave heartily, and carry on with their business. They'll hook up later, Albert says.

For now, he's keen to get back to the EP. He whips out his phone to show us the artwork, talks animatedly about how he's gotten so into Metallica that he might cover one of their songs, raves about his favourite records (from Adam & The Ants' 'Car Trouble' to Wipers' 'Is This Real?'). He seems relieved he's still here, still playing music, happily sober.

"The first two years you're kind of standing on the edge and watching a river go down, and that's the world," he says of life without drugs. "You're like, 'Why am I not part of this? How do I get in?' But you just can't. You're an outsider."

Albert takes stock for a second when I ask him where he's stood now.

"You know... I feel comfortable with myself, I guess."

Cult Status

What's Julian like as a label boss?

Albert: "I'd been talking to Julian about wanting to release something on his label Cult Records since he started it. He was like, 'Let's put out a song.' So I went, 'Alright, I'll start working with Gus [Oberg] and maybe after we do a few songs there'll be one that's fun in there.' I sent him the first, 'Cooker Ship', and he was floored. I got an email back with a million 'yes'-es on it!

It wasn't originally going to be an EP, it was going to be one song, then it was going to be two, then it was going to be three. Julian was like, 'Let's cap it at three.' But then I went, 'Well, I have one more', and he said, 'That one's good, we'll do four.' Then again, I was like, "...I have one more". He goes, "We've got to stop now... but that was your best one!'"

#the strokes #i didn't have to type this all out but i did. for fun. erm why? i dunno...#albert hammond jr #julian casablancas #nick valensi #nikolai fraiture #fab moretti #fabrizio moretti #we stay strokin #the mirror dimension #the strokey archives #kish soup #ahj #jules

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slugtranslation-hypmic · 8 months ago

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hey slug,

whats ur opinion on the dh trailers?

Let's give them a listen! I'm currently in public waiting to catch a train, so I may breeze through this a little faster than usual.

Sasara's Laughin' Hope

(17 seconds in) Already obnoxious. (said with affection) Perfect for Sasara. Clashing dreadfully with the country song the café I'm in just started blaring.

(23 seconds in) Wait, no fancy subtitles? Channel Hypnosis Mic, you can't do this to me :(((

(30 seconds in) Oh okay there they are. I guess the earlier bit didn't have them because it was just snippets of other songs.

(33 seconds in) "So painfully aware of social mores it wraps back around to acting inappropriately" Cheers, bro, I'll drink to that. I like it that Sasara's acknowledging it outwardly to more than just himself or Roshou.

(45 seconds in) Man's opening tf up. You love to see it.

(52 seconds in) This song is too damn catchy to be listened to in public.

(1 minute in) "Gimme a light"... I wonder what that's supposed to mean. As in, light my cigarette? (That one gay-ass SamaSasa cigarette panel comes to mind.) Shine a light on me/illuminate me?

(1:08) I'm not a big autotune fan, but I'm kinda vibing with this.

(1:11) "Laughin' when I'm in pain, laughin' when I'm feeling fine" Homie is going THROUGH it

(Overall) I like Sasara saying the quiet part out loud--not just to himself, but to an audience. (Because it seems like most of his songs are performances, right?) Also a bop. Very fun!

Roshou's On My Way

(0 seconds in) All I can think about is that Phil Collins' room

(13 seconds in) I have literally no idea what to make of this, musically.

(33 seconds in) ...This feels like an anime ending. I think that's my only takeaway thus far. It's like...scrambling my brain. This isn't a bad thing. I'm just very...intrigued?

(39 seconds in) Okay the backing beat helps immensely.

(1:35 seconds in) Ohhhhhhh okay the "on" is from 途中. I think the vibe this title is supposed to evoke is kinda like "Work in Progress."

(Overall) I actually quite like this in terms of plot! It's a very hopeful song for Roshou and contrasts quite a bit with Sasara's song--he's openly acknowledging his issues and facing them head-on instead of being like "I use laughter as repression :) for the depression :)" The part starting from 1:29 is like: I'm still on my way Still hung up on the future Retying my shoelaces Only enemy to speak of is myself Only point of pride to speak of are my many failures All the answers I wrote that I went back and marked wrong Of course I wish I could back and do things differently, but I look up and watch the airplane shooting through the sky. Stop saying all the time: "Crap, what have I done?" "Crap, what do I do now?" Get out from inside my own head, Look out at the world around me. I see a long road ahead of me One that'll take so long to walk I don't know how I'll ever finish it. But let's go, one step at a time!

Rei's The World is Yours

No doubt orchestrated by Rei himself, Youtube gave me a financial scam ad on this video.

(8 seconds in) Yeah I can dig this.

(17 seconds in) What the fuck is that yelling in the BG

(26 seconds in) Oh, I like this a lot. There's an idiom in Japanese--"10 people, 10 colors"--meaning that each individual has their own unique outlook on the world. Here, Rei says "Repainting over the gray city [with] the ten people, ten colors seeping [into me]." Love seeing Rei express that other people enrich your life

(50 seconds in) He's unexpectedly honest in this song. There's a confessional or vulnerable quality to it I don't see often in Rei

(1:06) "Here and now, I'll fulfill a promise [I made] long ago and far away" Oh??

(Overall) Huh, interesting! Seems to be a "Life is what you make of it" sort of song

#not a translation #asks #hypmic asks

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tenjin-no-shinja · 2 months ago

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第２節　知っておきたい参拝の方法

In order to make visiting shrines meaningful, it's important to know the proper manners. This is the fundamental thing to avoid being rude to kamisama.

The cat says: I'll make sure to wash my head thoroughly before going.

参拝に行くべき日とマナー

参拝に行く日・時間帯

Because many shrines have no gates, there is the impression that one can visit at any time. However, with the exception of special events like Ōmisoka 大晦日 (New Year's Eve), it's best to avoid late night visits. For regular visits it's best to go at hours when businesses and stores are typically open.

...Sone people only visit shrines during New Years, but one should visit at important points in life (birthdays, shichigosan, entering a new school, Coming of Age Day etc...) This is to give thanks for having lived a safe life up until that point, and to pray for protection in the future.

Of course if you are experiencing worries or doubts, it's a good idea to visit a shrine to get assistance in overcoming these obstacles. If visiting is difficult, you can ask a close friend to visit and pray on your behalf.

一般的に行われる参拝の例

人生儀礼で行う参拝

Events for milestones and major events in one's life that you'd visit a shrine for:

初宮詣��お宮参り） Hatsumiyamōde (Omiyamairi) a baby's first visit to a shrine. It's done at 31-32 days for boys, and 32-33 days for girls

お食い初め Okuizome a ceremony held 100 days after birth to pray that a baby will never want for food, the meal usually has red beans and rice with a Red Sea bream that has the head attached

初節句 Hatsusekku a baby's first seasonal festival (usually Momo no Sekku 桃の節句 March 3 for girls, or Tango no Sekku 端午の節句 May 5th for boys)

七五三詣 Shichigosanmōde festival that celebrates the growth and well being of children ages 3, boys aged 5 and girls aged 7

合格祈願 Gōkaku Kigan prayers for success in exams

成人式 Seijin-shiki Coming of Age Ceremony for those who have reached the age of maturity

結婚式 Kekkon-shiki Weddings

安産祈願 Anzan Kigan Prayers for safe delivery

厄除け Yakuyoke Warding off Unlucky Years

方位除け Hōiyoke Directional Protection based on Stars

随時行う参拝

Events and occurrences that you'd go to a shrine on an as needed basis:

車のお祓い Kuruma no Oharai Purification of One's Car

商売繁盛 Shōbai Hanjō Prayers for a Thriving Business

必勝祈願 Hisshō Kigan Prayers for Certain Victory

身体健康 Shintai Kenkō Prayers for Bodily Health

病気平癒 Byōki Heiyu Prayers for Recovery from Illness

心願成就 Shingan Jōju Prayers for Thanks of Prayers being Realized

家内安全 Kanai Anzen Prayers for Safety of the Home

火難除け Kananyoke Prayers for Warding Off Fire Disasters

盗難除け Tōnanyoke Prayers for Warding Off Theft

厄年の年齢

Yakudoshi is the idea that there are certain years you will have more struggles than not.

The footnote at the bottom of this diagram reads: "Your age when you are born starts at 1 year, therefore one year is added each New Year." This concept is fairly common in East Asia, and in Japanese is called Kazoedoshi 数え年.

Pink is Women, and Blue is Men. Maeyaku 前厄 is the year before an inauspicious year, Honyaku 本厄 is the major inauspicious year, and Atoyaku 後厄 is the year after an inauspicious year. Generally you would go and have special prayers done for these 3 years, with the focus being the major inauspicious year. Yakudoshi is basically the concept of "you should take extra care look after your health and wellbeing, as well as not make hasty decisions in these periods of your life."

The Cat Says: "The Unlucky Year was originally the Service Year"

It's word play with Yaku having the kanji 厄 unlucky, and 役 service.

本命星と方位盤

Before I cover the diagram, a brief explanation of what Honmeishō 本命星 is required. This is from a concept known as Kyūsei Kigaku 九星気学, which are 9 traditional astrological signs from Onmyōdō practices corresponding to a person's birth year, it is believed the characteristics of that "main star" (honmeishō) have a great influence on their personality and luck, and they live their lives constantly under the influence of it.

Now together with the Kyūsei Kigaku, comes a compass called Hōi-ban 方位盤. The compass points to 8 directions, and each direction is given a star. Each year is given an auspicious and inauspicious direction. It's also important to note that north is on the bottom of the compass.

There are Unlucky Directions, while good directions are based on your individual star.

The main unlucky directions are:

五黄殺 Go'ōsatsu the most abhorred direction of the year (based around Saturn's movements)

暗剣殺 Ankensatsu runs opposite of Go'ōsatsu, and both are considering the two most dangerous directions

歳破 Saiha the sign in the opposite direction of the yearly Zodiac direction (for example 2025's sign is snake, the saiha is northwest)

本命殺 Honmeisatsu the direction where your Honmeishō changes luck, should be avoided if you are of age or older

本命的殺 Honmeitekisatsu the sign opposite the Honmeisatsu, and like it should be avoided if you're over 18.

Other unlucky directions include:

Tsukimeisatsu and Tsukimeitekisatsu 月命殺・月命的殺 Monthly sign where luck changes, and the sign opposite it, should be avoided by younger people

Shōnisatsu 小児殺 only exists on the Lunar Calendar, children under 7 should avoid this direction

Teītaichū 定位対冲 is based on a fixed position of certain stars, the level of bad omen varies from theory to theory no one quite agrees on this one

Honmeijūnishitekisatsu 本命十二支的殺 direction opposite of one's zodiac sign, said to decrease the effects of good luck and amplify bad luck.

Shōkyōhōi 小凶方位 Minor Bad Direction

The footnote at the bottom of the diagram reads: "The above compass is for 2023. The direction of the star changes with each passing year."

北東（鬼門）Hokutō (Kimon) Northeast (Demon Gate)

The star of your life is in the northeast, and there will be many changes and fluctuations, your luck will tend to decline, and you will need to be careful of injuries and illnesses.

北（困難宮）Kita (Konankyū) North (Palace of Difficulties)

The star of your life is in the north, and this is the year when your luck is most stagnant. Think of this as a year to prepare for a leap forward, and be humble.

中央（八方塞がり) Chū'ō (Happōfusagari) Center (Covered on All Sides)

This is a year in which your star is in the center, blocking all sides and making it difficult to do anything.

南西（裏鬼門） Nansei (Urakimon) Southwest (Unlucky Quarter)

Your star is in the southwest. Your luck from the previous year will gradually improve, but you need to be careful in the first half of the year.

本命星早見表

Above is a simplified chart of folks main stars, it uses the Imperial Calendar system, so you'll need to calculate your birth year.

The footnote at the bottom says: "People whose birthdays fall between New Year's Day (January 1st) and Setsubun (February 3rd-4th) will have the star of the previous year."

The Nine Stars as Listed in the Diagram

一日水星 Ippakusuisei

Strengths: Gentle, creative, hardworking, strong core

Weaknesses: Stubborn, assertive, tends to be solitary

二黒土星 Jikokudosei

Strengths: service-oriented, honest, stability-oriented, patient, receptive

Weaknesses: indecisiveness, assertiveness, stubbornness, greed

三碧木星 Sanbekimokusei

Strengths: bright and positive personality, energy and determination, leadership, creativity, sociability, challenging spirit, intuition

Weaknesses: rash, short-term, self-centered, unplanned, vain

四緑木星 Shirokumokusei

Strengths: mild-mannered, considerate, sociable, cooperative

Weaknesses: indecisive, poor decision making, easily swayed by others, lack of stability

五黄土星 Go'ōdosei

Strengths: leadership and decisiveness, strong will and drive, passion and action, confidence and independence, creativity and innovation, inclusion and generosity

Weaknesses: self-centered and dogmatic aspect, emotional ups and downs, stubborn and inflexible, perfectionist and blind to the surroundings, and shakes up those around him.

六白金星 Roppakukinsei

Strengths: high ideals, strong will, high ability, enthusiasm for learning

Weaknesses: pride, dogmatism, conflict with surroundings, inability to admit failure

七赤金星 Shichisekikinsei

Strengths: sharp insight, good storyteller, engaging charm, mood-maker who brightens up the surroundings, well planned, prudent

Weaknesses: high self-esteem, self-promotional, competitive, lack of execution, can waste money depending on mood

八白土星 Happakudosei

Strengths: single-minded, strong-willed, tenacious, and capable of achieving goals

Weaknesses: lack of cooperation, inflexible, self-centered, changeable moods

九紫火星 Kyūshikasei

Strengths: intelligent, sociable, charming, expressive

Weaknesses: vain, extravagant, restless, emotional ups and downs, self-centered, proud

厄年と本命星

You don't only visit shrines for happy occasions. People will pray to the kami for their luck to change when they are experiencing a streak of misfortune, or are feeling unwell. From experience it is known that there are inauspicious directions and ages one should be particularly careful around.

Yakudoshi are the years when people are prone to misfortune and illnesses, and they differ between men and women. The years before and after yakudoshi are also considered years that one should be careful in. When men turn 42, and women turn 33, in particular is considered a significantly calamitous year, called Taiyaku 大厄.

厄年 was originally 役年, and was the age in which one took on important roles at shrines or other places of worship. In any case, it came to be thought of as the age in which you get purification done at shrines and take care of your body.

Honmeishō is the star used to predict the fortune of the year according to the direction of that star. Years in which the star is in Chū'ō, Kimon (Northeast) and Urakimon (Southwest) are years you should take special care in.

Sources for the Unlucky Directions, and Star Meanings: 1, 2, 3, 4

Wow this one was a doozy, a good chunk was me reading through various Japanese websites to figure out this star chart stuff. Japanese Astrology is fascinating. As per usual, I am not a professional translator, I do this for fun, and my own practice.

#神社の教科書 #Shinto #Info #Photos #Astrology #九星気学 #Fortune Telling #Yakudoshi

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midnight-mourning · 8 months ago

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Good morning, mourning! is it possible for you to show us how you make an outline for writing a chapter sometime in the future? like what does your first rough rough draft look like?🤔

also whats your favorite vine/meme at the moment?🫣

Hi pip!!

I can actually show you RIGHT NOW as I keep all my outlines (for the most part) saved in their respective chapters

*added a read more post-answering bc this got LONG lol*

So, it's sometimes a bit dependent on the fic, what I'm writing at the time, and where I'm at in the process. I usually have two different methods I stick to and typically combine in some manner:

bulleted list of important scenes/ideas to expand out upon from there (typically how I start out ideas for oneshots)

big blurb paragraph of a flow of ideas from start to finish (typically how I start out chapter-based fics, and what I do for Confused Spirit)

From there, I'll then combine the two methods in some way if it's a oneshot, and if I'm struggling to get the words flowing for a chapter-based fic, I'll use the list to expand out upon things I wrote originally. For example, this was ch. 34's outline (spoilers for those who haven't read it yet):

and then the list I added once I got started properly, which I crosssed out as I went along. Fun fact, you can see where I hit a moment of greatness in that last bullet and the chapter came together as a whole from there:

the blacked out is things I've pushed back for later (or just general spoiler stuff), so you can see that inital plans and even those I make WHILE writing the chapter are still subject to change as I go into actually writing it. Another good example would be from ch. 32:

in this case, I went back and added to the original outline (I think you can tell where lmao) and didn't utilize a list

I'd love to find chekov's gun, bc that one was REALLY good if I'm remembering correctly but I think it's buried somewhere in the Dialogue Dump unfortunately 😔

Adding on to that, I write a lot of scene ideas/mainly dialogue for things that happen in the future as the ideas don't typically come to me in chronological order. the party from 33? like a month into writing the story. the team meeting Michael? mid-arc 2. Chekov's gun? the start to midway point in the first couple days of writing and then basically finished within by the middle of august (started in July for those that don't know)

My point being that there's a lot of things that I have saved for certain arcs/plot points that I then insert into their proper place in the story once I find where that is. For arc 3 in particular I took the approach of gathering all the dialogue i KNOW was going to be in the arc, wrote my lil blurbs for all the chapters, and then started placing them accordingly. stuff has (and probably will continue to) gotten shuffled around, but for the most part has stayed in their original places.

a rough rough draft beyond that is basically adding to those base scene ideas (sometimes in order, sometimes not) typically writing dialogue and then filling in the blanks from there! sometimes if I'm lucky I can write a chapter from (mostly) start to finish in a span of four hours or so but that's only when i'm REALLY cookin'

Sorry for the super long winded response, didn't realize how much I wrote until I did it 😅

TL;DR, blurb of ideas, organize those ideas/add to them or adjust, full send it from there (with the potential help of some dialogue along the way)

As for my fav vine/meme currently? Probably the lump fish guy, everytime someone says 'very mindful, very demure' (I am not on tiktok so I do NOT understand this one) I instantly think 'very beautiful, very powerful'

thanks so much for the lovely ask!!! <3 <3 <3

#really am just out here outing myself like this #happy to do it though this was very fun to be asked and to blab about #I don't know what anyone's expectations were #but yes #this is legit how I do it lmao #I'm mad I couldn't find ch. 15's outline #i KNOW i saved it #if it's not the dialogue dump it may be in one of her sister locations #yes that was intended I find myself to be very funny #mourning murmurs #Confused spirit #Confused spirit spoilers #dca fic #fnaf dca #dca fandom #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf daycare attendant #x reader

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chattercap · 4 months ago

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hi chattercap!! :D

i absolutely LOVE your visual novels so much. i've played mindmindmind, karamu and kanau, and all of them were spectacular. as a new game dev your work is extremely inspiring and it truly makes me wanna keep going and get better at game development, story writing and art, so thank you for all that you do! <3

i wanted to ask if you've shared your process for hiring voice talent for your games. the visual novel i'm working on right now is extremely reading heavy, and i think it would be much more enhanced if voice over was added at some point. the vas you have in your visual novels are so talented, and i was wondering how you discovered them/hired them! if you don't feel comfortable sharing this process, that's okay! to be honest, any tips that you have at all for a new visual novel game developer is appreciated :)))

again, thanks so much for putting out such great work. keep it up and i'll definitely be playing your future projects! <33

Hello sugarrchaii!!

GOSH you're too kind 😭 I still have quite a long way to go as a dev myself but it makes me so happy to know there are other new devs looking up to my work 🥹 I know that you'll do FANTASTICALLY, I'm rooting for you!!

And of course, I don't mind at all!! (I asked around and got a lot of help from kind developers when I was first doing VA, in fact!) I basically looked for VAs on Twitter/X, as well as Casting Call Club. Most of the people I eventually worked with were from Twitter/X, but people on CCC are quite talented as well! Admittedly I did this before the Twitter/X exodus, but I do know a lot of VAs are on Bluesky now.

You can see an example of the post here:

Here's an example of the most recent casting call that I posted! It has most of the basic information you should include in a CC (project info, compensation, timeline, expected workload, etc.)

I found it particularly useful to have people fill out a Google Form rather than emailing auditions since it made things a lot easier to organize, especially if you're fielding hundreds of auditions! And, of course, if you're paying VAs, make sure to include the details as well. There are a lot of talented VAs who are willing to work with a wide variety of workloads and budgets, just make sure to be clear in your CC!

In terms of reviewing VAs, I typically do a pass for audio quality (make sure to listen on high for noise or things like that, and make sure you can clean up the lines of the VAs you hire), then another for "character fit," and then another for emotional range. I would also make sure that your VA read your CC and properly included all the information you asked for, just to see if they'll be a good person to work with.

And lastly, I try to make sure that I have a script ready for my VAs by the time my CC ends, so they're not waiting too long for it!

I think that about covers how I generally go about casting, but if you have any more questions, feel free to email at [email protected], or reach out on Discord (chattercap)!

#general-asks

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justsomerandomfanfic · 5 months ago

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Hello! If you could I would like to request a romantic matchup for Star Wars, Marvel, and X-men please and thank you!

I'm 18 and use she/her pronouns and I am bisexual but I do prefer guys. I'm 5'2 with dark brown hair with curtain bangs and Carmel highlights along with dark brown eyes. I wear glasses but I mainly like to wear contacts, but if don't have them in I either forget to put my glasses on or don't put them on because I get a little insecure with how I look.

I'm a very sensitive person and tend to be an introvert. I'm also the oldest daughter out of four kids so I tend to act very motherly to many of my friends and family to the point where I am in charge of organizing things or helping my siblings with school or anything else they need. I can be shy and seem to be independent or act like a lone wolf but once I find the right people I am very quick to open up and be very sarcastic but very energetic and affectionate, like a golden retriever lol.

I like to listen to music mostly pop like Sabrina Carpenter or Charlie xcx but love other genres just as equally and have music on constantly, I also like to draw or do anything artsy, baking/cooking (I grew up spending lots of time in the kitchen due to dad working in a kitchen), and love spending time with my siblings. I dress mostly in casual clothes with lots of crop tops, oversized hoodies and jackets, and off the shoulder tops, but also like to do 90's to 2000's fashion. I'm a big hopeless romantic and show my affection through physical touch, quality time, and acts of service.

Hopefully I'm not adding to much but if it is just ignore but I'll add two more things if it helps you, my favorite color and flower is Lavender, and I love to collect plushies and small trinkets.

Thank you for doing this matchup hope you have a good day/night!! <33 ^0^

Hi!

I would love to match you up with someone from Star Wars, Marvel, and X-Men! :)

And don't worry, you gave a great amount of information.

I hope you like your matchups!

Romantic Matchups: Star Wars, Marvel, and X-Men

~~~

Romantic;

~~~

Star Wars;

Anakin Skywalker -

You met Anakin as a fellow Jedi Padawan training in the Temple.

You had a reserved presence, more inclined to observe than to speak, but your skill with a lightsaber and calm demeanor stood out.

Master Yoda had once said that your skill with a lightsaber was unmatched.

Anakin, ever the bold and confident one, was immediately curious about you.

He first approached you during a meditation session, lightly teasing you about how "peaceful" you looked while secretly admiring how focused you were.

You, naturally shy, responded with an awkward laugh, and he found it endearing.

Anakin quickly decided that he liked being around you.

(And he kind of wanted to break you out of your shell...)

He'd pull you into his orbit with his charm, dragging you into mischief or debates about training techniques.

At first, you found his confidence overwhelming, but his sincerity - and the fact that he questioned authority - intrigued and won you over.

Over time, your friendship deepened as you discovered you could be yourself around him.

You'd talk for hours about your shared dreams.

He often confided in you about his frustrations with the Jedi Order, finding comfort in your empathetic nature.

Anakin had a habit of surprising you with small tokens - scraps from his tinkering turning into trinkets, or a freshly picked Lavender from the Temple gardens.

Anakin's feelings for you began to shift after a dangerous mission where you both narrowly escaped.

Seeing you injured and still prioritizing others made him realize how much he admired your strength and selflessness.

For you, it was during one of your late-night talks under the stars.

Anakin's passion and vulnerability shone through as he shared his dreams of a better future.

His intensity was magnetic, and you found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn't expected.

The tension grew during sparring sessions.

He'd purposely get close, his teasing grin softening when your eyes met, lingering just a little too long before either of you moved.

Anakin's confession was as dramatic as you'd expect.

After a heated battle where he feared for your life, he blurted out his feelings in the middle of the Temple's courtyard.

His words came out in a rush, his usual confidence faltering as he admitted, "I can't imagine my life without you." He then walked closer, taking your hands, before muttering, "I am sure that you are the reason as to why the stars and moon are hung in the sky."

You, initially stunned, softened when you saw the vulnerability in his expression.

With a small smile, you admitted you felt the same, and when he kissed you under the fading light of the sunset, it felt like everything just clicked into place.

Anakin's love is intense and all-encompassing.

He becomes your fiercest protector and biggest supporter.

He constantly worries about your safety but respects your independence.

Slightly overprotective?

He loves physical touch - sadly because of the Jedi Code, your relationship and love are forbidden, but at the Temple, Anakin can't help but brush a hand against yours, pull you into a side hug, or rest a hand on your back when going through crowds.

But, when alone, Anakin will cling.

#Touch-starved.

Hugs, full body hugs, resting his forehead against yours, many kisses, cuddling, hand-holding, and a whole lot more.

He always thinking of ways to make you smile.

Whether it's sneaking out to watch the sunrise together or crafting a small gadget to help with your art, he's determined to show you how much you mean to him.

Anakin adores your love for baking.

He's hopeless in the kitchen but always volunteers to help, resulting in flour fights and lots of laughter.

He makes it his mission to create small, lavender-colored trinkets for you using parts from his tinkering, knowing it's your favorite color.

Late at night, when the Temple is quiet - and he snuck into your room - he'll play music on an old holoplayer, swaying with you in the dim light.

~~~

Marvel;

Miguel O'Hara - (I know this is a bit more Spiderverse/Spider-Man, but like the vibes are there)

You met Miguel as a new recruit to the Spider Society. Your bright, cheerful personality was a stark contrast to his stoic and often grumpy demeanor.

Miguel first noticed you during a mission briefing where your enthusiasm stood out among the otherwise serious group.

It made some sense since he also noticed that you were close with Gwen and Hobie.

At first, he thought you were naive, but when you effortlessly took down two anomalies singlehandedly during a mission with two other Spider-People, he started paying closer attention.

Miguel couldn't help but be drawn to your sunshine-like energy.

You had a knack for getting him to loosen up, even if it was just a tiny smile or a soft chuckle at one of your jokes or sarcasm.

You'd leave small doodles on sticky notes around HQ - sometimes of him, sometimes of random things - and he secretly kept them all in a drawer.

When he saw you mentoring younger Spiderlings, his respect for you deepened.

He admired how nurturing and patient you were, and it reminded him of what he'd lost but also gave him a sense of hope.

Miguel's feelings for you crept up on him.

One moment, you were his bubbly coworker, and the next, he found himself looking forward to your presence more than he cared to admit.

And then there is also the fact that he was scared to let someone else in again. Everyone he had ever loved died so...

For you, it was during a mission gone wrong.

You got hurt, badly, and Miguel was too late to swoop in and protect you.

While you were stationed in a bed healing, Miguel stayed by your side for a good while, asking for updates from Lyla.

This gruff concern made your heart flutter.

The romantic tension between you both was palpable, with lingering glances and moments of unspoken understanding.

Miguel's confession came during a quiet moment in HQ.

He couldn't hold it in anymore and just admitted, "You're the only thing keeping me sane in this place. I don't know what I'd do without you, corazón (my heart/heart.)

You teased him for being sappy but immediately reassured him by hugging the crap out of him and saying, "Good thing I'm not going anywhere, Miggy."

Miguel is fiercely protective but learns to let you handle things your way because he respects your abilities, independence, and strength.

He's not one for grand romantic gestures but makes up for it in small, meaningful ways - like designing gadgets to make your life easier or brewing your favorite Lavender tea after a long day.

He secretly loves it when you cuddle up to him, though he'd never admit it out loud.

You know, though.

He's kind of obvious.

Miguel loves spending quiet evenings with you.

You'll play Sabrina Carpenter while you bake, and he'll sit nearby watching you with a soft smile.

He builds you a lavender suit.

He'll wrap an arm around your waist when walking through HQ, a subtle yet protective gesture that lets everyone know you're his.

(And he is yours.)

~~~

X-Men;

Logan Howlett -

You met Logan when you joined the X-Men.

He initially kept his distance, observing you with his signature gruffness.

It wasn’t until he saw you helping a young mutant with their powers that he started to soften.

He couldn’t help but be intrigued.

Logan respected your independence and quick wit.

You weren’t afraid to challenge him, and he found your sarcasm refreshing.

You bonded over late-night kitchen raids, where you’d bake something sweet while he poured a glass of what he wished was beer but it ended up being Coke.

He’d grumble about you taking too long, but he always stayed until you were done.

You’d drag him into harmless pranks around the mansion, and while he pretended to be annoyed, he secretly loved the lighthearted moments you brought into his life.

You both loved to prank Charles, but he always saw it coming.

But pranking Scott was extra fun!

Logan’s feelings for you grew when he realized how much he valued your presence.

Your nurturing nature balanced his rough edges, and he found himself looking forward to your company.

For you, it was when he patched you up after a mission, his touch gentle despite his gruff tone.

His protectiveness made you feel safe, and his vulnerability in those moments was endearing.

Logan’s confession was blunt and straightforward, delivered after a mission. “You mean a lot to me. More than I thought was possible.”

Your heart melted at his honesty, and you reassured him with a soft smile and a hug, letting him know you felt the same.

Logan is fiercely loyal and protective.

He’ll always have your back, whether it’s during a mission or against everyday struggles.

He loves it when you rest your head on his shoulder, though he’ll grumble about it just to tease you.

He surprises you with small, thoughtful gestures - like carving a lavender flower from wood, knowing it’s your favorite.

Yeah, he totally knows how to carve wood, having traveled around a lot.

#forestboi

Logan enjoys quiet mornings with you, sipping coffee and reading in companionable silence.

You’ll bake together, with him stealing bites of cookie dough and pretending he didn’t.

He’s incredibly affectionate in private, often pulling you into his lap or wrapping his arms around you when you least expect it.

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