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#radio tracking device
instrutel · 2 months
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Being a prominent industry we are engaged in providing a wide assortment of Radio Tracking Device to our clients at most affordable range. Offered device is specifically designed for indian Army for Tracking the radio sets. This has got inbuilt GPS and is used to transmit the location data through STARSV MKII,CNR and HX radio sets which are carried by Radio Men for communicating. Also, offered range is passed through various quality parameters to deliver a defect free range.
As a prominent industry player, we are dedicated to providing a comprehensive range of Radio Tracking Devices at affordable prices. Specifically tailored for the Indian Army, these devices are indispensable tools for tracking radio sets. Equipped with built-in GPS functionality, they play a crucial role in transmitting real-time location data through STARSV MKII, CNR, and HX radio sets utilized by Radio Men for essential communication in defense operations. Our products undergo stringent quality checks to ensure flawless performance, highlighting their vital significance in enhancing situational awareness, coordination, and operational effectiveness for the armed forces.
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zincbot · 8 months
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i'm loving lots of things about outer wilds. i can Not fly the damn spacecraft
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jyoongim · 4 months
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Hear me out. I can't be the only one that wants to fuck Al's demon form. Like not just the black eyed tentacle gig, I'm talking full form like the size and all 😭 I can take it I swear, Al (narrator: she could not)
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Title: A Reminder To All…
Themes: its giving monster fuc but like oof, demon!form Alastor, tentacles, established relationship, rough sex, growling, blood, possessive behavior, antlers, animalistic behaviors.
It was a rather quiet afternoon at the Hazbin Hotel.
You were up in the radio tower straightening a few things while Alastor was out doing gods know what 
You decided that since you had cleaned up most of the place that you would take a stroll through town as some down time.
You hummed a tune as you passed many sinners out and about. Your stroll led pass the digital shop. You slowed as you noticed a crowd gathered outside a Voxtech store.
There were multiple tvs playing things in the windows and what caught your attention was the deals they had going on.
You bit your lip. Oh it couldnt hurt to window shop right?
You entered and was immediately overwhelmed by all the fancy tech.
why did hell need modern tech you had no idea.
A shiny pink camera caught your attention.
And it was cheap.
You did need a new camera. It would help with advertisement and to show the progress of the hotel you thought as you happily paid for it and went about your way.
what you didn’t know was that Vox had been tracking you the moment you left the hotel.
that camera of yours was now his gateway into seeing what Alastor was up to.
Once back at the hotel you pulled out your shiny new purchase.
you turned it on and walked around filming a bit.
You checking the footage to check out the quality when you heard a record scratch
”what is that my dear?” 
You jumped at the sound of Alastor’s voice and spun around holding the camera
His eyes narrowed on it and quirked his brow at you, airing for an explanation.
”Well Al I-I just thought that the hotel could use a camera to help with promoting. We can record our progress. Now you don’t have to do all the work.” You said with a nervous smile, hoping he wouldn’t toss it.
He walked closer to you, mainly keeping his eyes on the tech.
”and where did you get such a frivolous thing?” 
you gulped “At the v-voxtech store”
His ever-present smile tightened before he shrugged “fine if you think it’ll help”
you breathed a sigh of relief and happily went about your way testing it out.
Unaware of the growing shadows emitting from him.
after spending a few hours getting the hang of your new device, you decided to call it a night and put your camera on your nightstand as you got ready for bed.
You shivered slightly under your cover, grumbling you furrowed further to seek some warmth.
why the hell was it so cold?
you shifted again in bed to feel a heavy weight on top of you.
your eyes flew open and you were met with a very frightening sight.
Alastor.
In his demon form.
Your breath got caught in your throat “A-Al?”
He tilted his head, smile wide and sharp “Sleeping well my dear?” His voice was staticky and distorted.
you were so confused.
you hardly EVER saw Alastor upset, especially to the point were he was in his demon form.
“Why is that in your room dear?” He hissed out, jutting his chin to your camera.
You tilted your head confused at his question.
he was angry about a damn camera?
A clawed hand was at your throat.
”I allow many things dear, but this unattractive piece of scrap in your room? That is where I draw the line”
You let out a squeak as your clothes suddenly disappeared and covers ripped away.
”A-Al?!”
Your hands were quickly restrained by his shadows and your legs were spreaded to welcome him closer.
when the hell did he undress?
You felt the faint ghost touch of a tentacle slide against your cunt, teasing your clit. You let out a soft moan.
”Already soaking dearest?” He hummed amused.
You felt the weight of his dick slap against your cunt.
your eyes widened he wasn’t going to…
”Alastor w-wait! I c-can’t!”
A long tongue sweated the side of your face
”But you will darling” and with that he slammed into you.
Your body seized at the sudden intrusion. You let out a cry that was silenced by a tentacle wrapping around your mouth.
Alastor rutted into you, growling and snarling.
Your eyes faintly drifted to the camera by your bed.
A blinking red dot turned on and off.
Alastor gave you a rather harsh thrust.
”eyes on me dear”
you whined loudly, trying to shift your body to accommodate to his harsh thrusting. Your eyes drifted to the top of his head.
Antlers.
you felt your fingers itch with the need to find purchase on them.
you gave a tug at the shadows and huffed, making little grabbing motions hoping he would get the hint.
he granted you grace and your hands immediately flew to his antlers.
He let outa low growl and sunk his teeth into your shoulder.
With his dick hitting that delious spot inside you, you could feel him bottoming out.
You were flipped onto your stomach, facing the camera.
the shadow around your mouth disappeared and a claw hand found your tongue.
”put on a show Mon cher” You felt him flush against you.
Moans and whines filled the room as he  pounded your cunt.
A high pitch whine left your throat as you felt your cunt clench around him.
you were gonna cum soon.
”A-Al-la-stor Ah!” Your eyes crossed as your body tensed and twitched from your orgasm. He let out a deep growl and quickened his pace.
Did he get bigger?
you were suddenly face to face with him.
Your noses brushing against each other as he sought after his own release.
Your arms wrapped around his elongated neck and a hand found one of his ears.
you tugged.
Static ran through your body as he slapped his lips on yours and slammed his hips into you, purring as he filled you with his cum.
you whimpered as your legs were finally released and dropped.
Alastor was breathing heavy as he reached over to the camera
”hope you enjoyed the show old pal” he laughed before destroying the camera.
you were drifting to sleep as you watched him transform back to normal.
”sleep well my dear” was the last thing you heard as he tucked you into his side, humming a soft tune with a wide smile.
He gave a reminder.
Dont fuck with the Radio Demon.
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fowlerblogs1 · 1 year
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onesidedradiostatic · 3 months
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Vox winning just reminds me of that one post with like 50K+ notes that's like "the best quality a fictional man can have is being deeply, pathetically, wretchedly in love with someone" glad we can all clearly agree on that
yeah. yeah. you know at this point vox and lucifer should just have a pathetic-off instead of a "who's hotter" showdown
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POINTS FOR AND AGAINST:
Lucifer
FOR
debuts making stupid ducks alone while not talking to his daughter
and is thus pathetic from the get-go
his wife left him
first words to his daughter for the first time she called HIM in years was "HEY BITCH"
almost managed to lose custody of his daughter to someone who only knew her for less than half a year
can't get his daughter's girlfriend's name right
AGAINST
he pulled lilith
possibly pulled eve too
he's literally the all-powerful king of hell and could probably beat your ass
actually managed to mend his relationship with his daughter
Vox
FOR
lost his own diss track against his rival
sings an entire number about not giving a fuck about his rival's return while being the only person TO give a fuck
tried to physically block a radio, an AUDIO output device as if it'd stop anything, failed at doing even that
his screen calls out the reason for his crashes and he seemingly can't control it
causes a city-wide blackout because his rival announced to everyone he rejected him
there is a non-zero possibility he was/is in love with said rival but said rival will never love him back
purposely avoided going to an overlords meeting and called his co-worker up at the very last minute to attend for him
the guy he appointed as a spy ended up being the very person to prove a sinner can be redeemed
episode 8
AGAINST
he is capable in literally any context outside of alastor
debuts actually acting cunning
capable of coming up with something on the spot without hesitation (voxtek angelic security)
feared by his employees
able to use manipulative language to stop val from going after the hotel
able to interpret val's "put something inside them" comment as appointing a spy
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avecra · 6 days
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Dosed
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summary: When you are laced with a deadly pathogen, the team finds themselves working endlessly to find a cure. Only it might not be enough.
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
word count: 6.7k
warnings: canon level violence, illness symptoms (fever, cough, vomiting), angst on top of angst with a happy ending, bucky goes through many emotions
a/n: hi hello it has been a hot minute since I have been active im so sorry :( i had a lot of personal issues to deal with but now im hoping to be a little bit more active and post more stories :)
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You could feel the heavy rumble of the jet as it landed on the muddy grounds. An overcast covered the sky and emitted a soft grey through the thick glass of the display of the jet, the light pitter of rain tapped against the window. 
Bucky’s gentle touch stole your gaze from the window to the super soldier, his fingers wrapped around the Kevlar vest and he began to tighten the straps around your shoulders, pulling them into place. 
“Do I really have to wear this? Steve said that the building is supposed to be empty,” you said, trailing a finger along the front of your vest, over the stitched ‘Barnes’ that sat over the thick fabric. 
“Yes, honey,” Bucky chuckled, tightening the straps over your back. “Just cause Steve says it’s empty doesn’t mean it is. I can’t risk anything happening to you, therefore you get to wear my vest.” He winked at you and tightened the last strap across your abdomen. “Gotta keep my girl safe, now don’t I?”
You smiled sheepishly and nodded, continued to watch him strap a few guns and knives to his body. Exhaling a tense sigh, you ran your sweaty palms down the side of your tactical uniform, Bucky noticed. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
“I know,” you whispered, grabbing his hand. “I’m not exactly equipped for these types of missions, I’m just a little nervous.” 
Bucky’s eyes softened when he heard the small crack in your voice, his hands encased around yours and he tenderly pressed a kiss to the back of your palm. “I’m gonna be right by your side the entire time.”
You bobbed your head, taking in a deep breath as Bucky gently slid a gun into the holster on your thigh. “But just in case.”
The two of you had been assigned to track down a lone mercenary in the middle of western Canada. The stormy weather had made it difficult for the jet sensors to get a read on the building that sat in a nearly empty forest.
A mercenary hacker under the name Roman Donovan had been on Tony Stark’s radar for quite some time, after noticing the many sudden security pop ups, indicating that Donovan had smothered his way into Tony’s tech. Both Steve and Tony had been working relentlessly to find a position on him, until a sudden location popped up. 
You had your doubts, whether you were the best candidate for this mission, but Steve had reassured you with your technical and computer knowledge that you were the perfect fit.  A squeeze to your hand reminded you that Bucky would be with you every step of the way.
With a nod from you, Bucky placed the small comm device into your ear, tapping it a few times so he could hear the breaths that left your lips. He slipped one into his ear as well, tapping it a few times until he could catch the chatter of the two agents in the cockpit of the jet. 
“Prescott and Logan, stand by. We’ll radio you in case we need backup,” Bucky announced, pressing the button that opened up the ramp of the jet. He turned to you with a soft, comforting smile. “It’s just a simple extraction of files,” he reminded with a gentle hand to your back. “Ready?”
A final nod of your head, you looked at him. Ready.”
---
The building had been vacant this far, Bucky had led the both of you to the control room where you rapidly typed on the main computer. Bucky stood by the door, sending cautious glances over his shoulder every few seconds to survey the dark hallway. 
“I’m almost done,” you called out to him, fingers dancing across the keyboard, desperately pushing into the numbers and letters faster. “It had more firewalls than I expected.”
Bucky glanced over in your direction, a frown taking over his features. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Not necessarily. Just means this guy wants to keep people like me out of his stuff,” you mumbled. Bucky chuckled under his breath.
A few more clicks to the keyboard, you powered off the system and the flash drive ejected  out of the main computer. Stepping back, you watched the monitors as the files slowly disappeared from folders and main screen savers, until all the screens went dark. 
“I think I got it,” you muttered, eyes wide as they focused on the screens. The flash drive began to flicker a blue color, indicating that the files had transferred successfully without a trace of Stark technology.
The loud slamming of a door alerted Bucky, as he raised his rifle up, pointing towards the sudden sound. You pocketed the flash drive and raised your head at the sudden sound, eyes filled with confusion as they flickered over to Bucky’s alarmed blue ones.
“Get behind me,” You quickly made your way over to him and his hand immediately darted out to grab your wrist. Though you could feel the tension riding off his body in waves, his hold on your arm was gentle. “Stay low.”
You nodded and grasped the back of Bucky’s tactical vest, fisting the thick fabric. With a cautious foot forwards, Bucky stepped out into the hallway, taking slow, steady steps into the dimly lit corridor. 
Your hands made their way from the fabric of his shirt to his vibranium hand, and you gripped as tightly as you could, in a way to ground you. He couldn’t feel the tight pressure, but he could feel the weight of your hand in his. 
The two of you stealthily made your way through sets of hallways and stairwells, inching closer and closer to the doorway, until the loud slamming of boots against the tile floors halted you in your stance. Fear corrupted every fiber of your body, you couldn’t take your eyes off the panicked look in Bucky’s blue ones. 
You felt Bucky push you away behind him, before a sudden force knocked him to the ground, grunts passed through his lips. 
“Y/n, run!”
Not looking back, you trusted Bucky enough to know that he would make it out unscathed, with only a few scrapes and bruises. You, however, were not a field trained agent, with little  combat knowledge. You bolted the other direction, on the way to warn the two agents standing by in the jet.
“I need backup! Logan, Prescott, to the northeast side of the building, now!”
It wasn’t until you felt the pull of your vest and the weight of someone did you register your head slam against the ground, rather harshly. A strangled cry left your lips when you felt a needle puncture your skin, just at the conjunction between your shoulder and neck. 
His hand pressed down on your neck harshly, cutting off your air supply, but you were frozen in fear - he head injected something into your skin. You did not find the strength to fight back.
Fear paralyzed every fiber of your body.
Grunts and strangled screams were heard, you didn’t know if it came from you, but suddenly the weight was lifted off you, though you registered nothing of it. A few greedy breaths of fresh air. The pulsing of your heartbeat rang out in your ear, chiming and pudding against your skull. You laid frozen.
“Y/n is down, I have Donovan apprehended. I need backup, please!” Bucky spoke into the comms a moment later as he threw the hacker on his stomach and pinned his wrists behind his back. He was tempted to sap his wrist, but he held back. 
“Roman Donovan, you are a hard son of a bitch to find,” Bucky growled in his ear, reaching into his vest to pull out a pair of wrist restraints, tightening them to Donovan’s wrist. The man yelled in pain and discomfort.
Bucky glanced over to you, eyes softening when he took in your fragile form on the concrete. You just laid there, almost lifeless, but once Bucky saw the rise and fall of your chest, only a little relief came to him. It quickly rushed away when blue eyes focused on the empty syringe near your foot. 
“There’s a lot more pain coming your way. What did you inject her with?” Bucky yelled viciously, grabbing Donovan roughly by the hair. But the man simply let out a dark chuckle, eyes narrowing on you. The way weak coughs passed through your lips, the way you burrowed deeper into yourself.
“I know your weak spots, James Barnes.” was all he said. 
The hurried footsteps of Prescott and Logan reached his ears and Bucky abruptly stood up  and watched the two agents haul the mercenary to his feet and slam him against the wall, patting him, finding a gun strapped to his back and a small grenade. 
“Secure him to the panel near the bay doors. Bastard can fly out for all I care.” 
Bucky wasted no time in making his way over to you. A gentle hand soothed comforting circles up and down your arm, gently coaxing you and Bucky gently lifted you up in his arms and leant you against the wall, concerned as your head lolled back. 
“Baby, are you okay?” His panicked gaze flickered from the bleeding gash on your temple, to the light bruising around your neck, the small dot of blood at the conjunction between your neck and shoulder. He sighed, bringing a hand to rest on your cheek. “Y/n, answer me baby, what hurts?”
Your eyes were clenched shut and you brought a shaky hand to rest over Bucky’s, and you lifted your gaze to meet his worried blue ones. “I’m okay… I think.”
“You think?” Bucky asked, running a hand over your hair. 
“I-I don’t know, I feel fuzzy,” you mumbled, leaning your head back against the wall. 
Taking slow, deep breaths, you felt Bucky rub slow, soothing circles up and down your thigh. There was a buzzing sensation circling throughout your temples, down to your cheeks, along our jaw until it spread through the rest of your body. 
“Deep breaths in and out, baby,” Bucky whispered soothingly, leaning down to kiss your knee.
But then, in a moment or two, you felt it suddenly disperse. As if the wave of numbness rid itself out of your body. You allowed Bucky to help you to your feet, brushing his hands over the front of the vest before making sure you had no further injuries. 
“We’ll check you over at the compound,” Bucky said as he wrapped an arm around your waist and led you down the hall, following the two agents in suit. “Let’s get out of here.”
---
Bucky watched helplessly as he and Steve watched as Dr. Cho and her team scanned over your body. He couldn’t imagine how confused and scared you were, hands gripping the sheets. Your first field mission had been a complete disaster. Bruce walked in, the used syringe in an examination tube. 
“What do you think he injected her with?” Bucky asked after a couple of minutes of silence.
“It’s weird,” Bruce began, handing the folder over to Bucky. 
“I pushed it through a scanner, to see if I could find any sort of answer to what this is. All tests come back negative for a virus or disease. Has she had any of her symptoms progress on the way home?”
Bucky shook his head, “No, she’s just been… frozen, paralyzed almost. He has injected her with something; I saw the blood on her neck and it seemed like he had tried to… kill her or something.”
“You think he would?”
“Why else would he press his fucking hand over her throat?”
“That, I am not sure. So unless she starts to show signs of some sort of sickness, I unfortunately have no answers. I’ll check in with Tony, see if he has any answers. I’ll keep you guys updated.”
“Thanks, Bruce.” Bucky sighed, watching as the doctor left. He opened the file, reading over the diagnosis levels. “I still don’t get it.”
Steve hummed, taking the file out of his hand. 
“The only thing he said to me was ‘I know your weak spots’ and then called me out by name. But I have never come into contact with this guy, not even as the Winter Soldier. The dude is early twenties and lived with his grandma in east Maryland up until two years ago, living in some studio in Princeton up in Jersey. How the hell did he end up in Canada?”
“That doesn’t track at all. Unless he has dug up on all of us. He probably just wanted to get you by surprise.” Steve said. “Real name is Benjamin Croot. 24 years old.”
“Sergeant Barnes,” Dr. Cho’s voice broke through on the intercom. “She is asking for you.”
Bucky moved faster than he could process. He rushed through the doors and you turned your head at the sound of his boots. 
“Is she okay? She’s not hurt or anything?” Worried questions spewed out, his hands came to grip yours as tight without hurting you. He brushed his hand over your warm, sweaty forehead. “She’s warm.”
Dr. Cho nodded. “My team ran all the tests imaginable for this certain… situation. And everything came back negative, which worries me. If what Y/n described is true, then he must have injected her with something that is lethal or close to being lethal.
“She said to have felt numb, fuzzy almost. Those are usually the signs of a virus or even… a pathogen starts to form. But what I don’t get is that I could not find a single trace of.. well anything really.”
“Dr. Banner doesn’t have an answer either, though he’s checking in with Stark as we speak.” Bucky said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “What should we do? Keep her here?”
The woman sighed, pieces of her hair falling from the neat bun. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Part of me wants to keep her in the medical wing, just in case, but her stats are all normal, though her temperature is abnormally high.”
“How high?”
She flipped open the chart. You hadn’t really been present in the time either of them were talking. You were just so tired. Physically and mentally. 
“The last time I took it, her temperature was sitting at about 100.5, which isn’t that bad, but it’s not great either. So, I would advise to just rest for the night, and when she wakes up we will run a couple more tests, see if anything has changed.”
Bucky nodded, squeezing your hand as the doctor excused herself. 
“Whatcha thinkin’, sweetheart?” Bucky sat on the edge of the cot, brushing hair away from your eyes. 
“Tired.” He could tell your energy was scarce.
“Let’s go to bed then, hm.”
His movements started before you even had the chance to reply. As gently as he could, he slid his arms around your waist and shoulders and helped you up to your feet. The two of you made your way from the medical bay to the residential wing, to yours and Bucky’s shared room.
“Don’t you have the interrogation to do?” you mumbled, watching his features contort when he pressed his thumb against the scanner and led you into the room. In your fuzzy mind, you barely registered Bucky’s touch as he gently peeled your uniform off and slid your pajamas on.
“I’ll do it tomorrow. Besides it’s late, sweetheart and I think I speak for the both of us when I say it’s been a long day,” He gently eased you onto the bed, gently covering your form with a blanket. 
A shiver racked through you and Bucky watched with a concerned look as you tightened the blanket around your shoulders. He flicked off the lights and crawled into bed next to and wrapped an arm around your waist. 
“Sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” You faintly nodded and relaxed into his hold, feeling his hands run smoothly up and down your arms. The faint glow of the television set and the low volume did nothing to tear you from your due slumber, though you faintly felt the coolness of Bucky’s appendage running over your hair before you slipped into a dreamless sleep.
---
Sweat coated every part of your body as you woke up with a sharp gasp of air. 
Pounding temples, you peeled your eyes open and sat up; the faint glow of the TV caught your eye. The movie Bucky played had finished and had been playing in an endless loop. 
The clock on your nightstand read 2:07am, you reached for the cup of water and took slow sips, barely and faintly registering the sounds of Bucky’s light snores. 
You felt the nausea before anything else. It ran from your stomach up to your chest and you clamped a hand over your mouth, threw off the covers and made a beeline for the bathroom. 
That was until a wave of dizziness hit you and your knees buckled. Vision tunneling, you would have fallen to the floor if it weren’t for the strong pair of arms that wrapped around your waist before you could touch the carpet. I’ve got you, a tired voice murmured, but your hazy mind didn’t hear the quiet mutter.
The warmth of Bucky’s chest touched your heated back as he sped to the bathroom, flicked on the light and watched helplessly as you crashed to your knees and emptied what was in your stomach into the toilet. 
Bucky kneeled behind you and grasped your hair in one hand and rubbed soothing circles along your back. He felt you slacken in his arms, head resting back against his shoulder and when he pressed his palm flat against your forehead, he almost hissed at the radiating heat.
“You’re burnin’ up, sweetheart,” His wide blue eyes darted to your half-lidded ones, cerulean darting over your sweaty, clammy skin. 
“I don’t feel good.” you croaked. 
It hit him in one, big wave as he took over your tattered form. The confusion, the fatigue, to your spiked fever, Something wasn’t right, considering the fact that you rarely felt under the weather.
Those are usually the signs of a virus or even… a pathogen starts to form. Cho’s voice rang in his voice
Weakly, you flushed the toilet and leaned back into Bucky. Shivers racked through your body and Bucky peeled your shirt off your shoulder to see a dark blooming bruise where Donovan had injected the needle. 
“FRIDAY, wake Steve and Dr. Cho. Tell them to meet me in the medical wing,” Bucky called for the AI and slipped his hand under your back and knees and lifted you up against his chest. 
You jolted slightly, dizziness clouding your mind as Bucky stood up. You were limp in his arms, like jell-o.
The cool air of the hallway felt like a slap in the face, you pressed your cheek into the warmth of Bucky. A low whine passed through your lips and Bucky ran his thumb just below the back of your knee. 
“Buck,” Steve called, eyes widening as they fell on your shivering form. “What happened?”
But Bucky didn’t stop his movements, he spared a glance to Steve and kept heading towards the direction of the medical bay. Steve followed Bucky’s fast pace, quickly matching his speed.
“Her temperature is too high,” Bucky said, glancing over at his friend. “When we checked into the medbay, Cho noticed that her temperature was a little higher than normal, but when she got up a couple minutes ago, she was burning hot.”
A slick sheet of sweat coated your forehead, Steve noticed, and how small tremors racked through your body every so often. His eyes fell to the darkening bruise on your shoulder, Bucky caught his eye. 
“I think she was laced with something.”
Your fingers grazed the fabric of his shirt and Bucky looked down, continuing his trek to the medical wing with Steve hot on his tail. You could feel the rapid thumping of Bucky’s heartbeat as you weakly bunched his shirt in your fist.
“Laced? Laced with what?” Steve questioned as he rounded the corner, eyes locking onto Cho’s at the end of the hall.
Bucky looked down at you, clammy skin, eyes barely open, though you kept a strong grip on his shirt. “I don’t know.”
Everything was hazy the moment Bucky set you down on the hospital bed. Though sweat coated nearly every inch of your body, shivers racked through your body relentlessly. It was sweltering and freezing simultaneously. 
Nurses rushed around you, obstructing Bucky’s view from you, one of them placed a cannula just under your nose, an IV into your arm. The thought of more needles sinking into your skin made you sick. 
The last time someone used a needle on you, he was malicious as he jammed the needle into neck harshly. The memory brought nothing but fear to you. 
You were hot. Uncomfortable. The pain in your head was nearly unbearable.
“Bucky,” you called out, only it came out more of a whimper. “W-where’s Bucky?”
Metal clamped gently on your hand, the other hand coming to smoothly brush your sweaty hair back. “I’m here baby, I’m right here.” 
“It… it hurts,” Bucky watched as another nurse attempted to put another needle through your skin, he noticed the subtle shaking of your head, the whimpers.
“Is that really necessary?” he asked with a sharp glare, it melted away when he looked over at you. “What is it, baby? What hurts?”
“My head.”
Worried eyes wandered over to Cho’s as she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Sergeant Barnes, I understand you want to offer her comfort, but I can assure she is in good hands with my team.” 
Bucky nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. His finger trailed over your forehead gently, and when he saw Steve and Sam in his peripherals, he sighed to himself. “I’ll check up on you later, sweet girl. I have something to take care of.”
You nodded drowsily, the dizziness taking control. 
Bucky reluctantly moved away from your bedside to his two closest friends, solemn looks on their faces. Sam kept his eyes on you, watching as the nurses took your temperature.
“How is she?” he asked. Bucky kept his eye on you the entire time, watching your tired eyes start to close. 
“It’s not looking good,” Bucky sighed. “Her temperature is extremely high, nausea, light-headed and dizziness. Whatever this bastard did to her, he has to deal with me now.”
“He’s downstairs, whenever you’re ready.” Steve said, his eyes laying on your frail body. “It is 2 in the morning and one of my teammates is lying on a hospital bed with a fever of over 100 degrees and a migraine that’s probably killing her. Let’s get this over with.”
---
Roman Donovan sat in a cold, bright room, hands cuffed to the tables with two SHIELD agents armed standing at the entrance. A smug smirk sat on his face as he fidgeted with his fingers. His head perked up at the sound of the door opening. 
“Well, if it isn’t the mighty Winter Soldier, what a traitor you are to your own country, huh? I mean, working for the people who you literally fought against-” Sam walked behind him and gripped his shoulders tightly, fingers digging into his muscles. 
“I am only gonna say this once, so you better fucking listen to me. What did you do to her?”  
Donovan chuckled, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”
Bucky shook his head, vibranium fist clenched. 
“You know, Roman, this guy isn’t too fond of repeating himself. Especially to arrogant assholes like you.”
“What did you do to her, Donovan?” Bucky was strangely calm.. “You know the woman you attacked earlier, the one whose throat you almost crushed after you injected her with drugs? She’s got three degrees in chemistry, computer engineering and computer science, so I get why you, a man of your personality, would go after someone who is not strong enough to put up a fight against you.” 
Steve looked on through the window, phone pinging. He pulled it out, the text from Natasha sent dread through himself. 
Temperature over 105, tests coming back positive for some type of influenza. Cho is really worried. Not looking too good for her.
“Shit.”
He went on and walked into the room, leaning over to where Sam stood. 
“So aggressive, James. And for what reason?”
Sam chuckled, crossing his arms. “If you think this is aggressive, you’re in for a ride.”
“I’m gonna ask one more time, and if I don’t get an answer, that means you’re straight up out of luck.” Bucky leaned forward, black and gold vibranium reached for the chain of his restraints and pulled him down, causing Donovan to hit his head. “What did you inject her with?”
The man tilted his head, blood dripping down his cheek. “What makes you think I injected her with anything?” he cockily sneered. “I thought all the Avengers were required to be knowledgeable in the field, cause let me tell you, Sergeant, that little girlfriend of yours is such an easy target.” 
Steve nudged Sam, leaning his phone towards his eyeline, showing the text message. Sam felt a pang of worry settle deep in his stomach, sharing a worried glance with him. 
There wasn’t much time left for you. 
Steve stepped forward, pulling Bucky aside to show him the text message. 
Blue eyes raked over the words he had been dreading the most. "Not looking too good for her.”
“Well Donovan, I want my answer.”
The man smirked. “Yeah? Or what?”
Bucky’s left hand reached out and grabbed a fistful of Donovan’s hair and slammed his head against the metal desk one time only, though it was enough to break the man’s nose. Screams of pain resounded in the small but soundproof room. 
“No one’s gonna hear you, Donovan! Those guys with the big ass guns? They’re not gonna help you either. Not when one of their own is about to die in this building. And so help me, Benjamin,” Bucky sneered into his ear, the man’s eyes wide with fear, “if she dies under your hand, there is nothing on the green earth that is going to stop me from tearing you apart. I’m gonna ask one more time, what did you inject her with?”
“A deadly pathogen! It’s a pathogen that kills its hosts within 24 hours of it being administered.”
Bucky’s eyes glanced at the clock. 2:58 AM. It was a late night mission, the jet had landed in Canada at 7:45 PM. Meaning you had to have been injected with it at 8:00 or so. Meaning six hours had already passed, he had eighteen hours left. You had eighteen hours left.
“Did you know adults that experience fevers that go over 105 degrees can run into complications causing serious implications of brain damage,” Sam blurted out. “means you’re in the dog house if we lose her. And ain’t a single one of us is gonna stop that mean.”
“Is there an antidote for it?” 
Donovan nodded. Bucky slammed a pen and a notepad down on the table, causing the man to jump in fear. “I suggest you better start writing it down. Now you get to deal with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Better start writing.”
Eighteen hours would go by quickly. 
---
“Sergeant, it’s not looking good for her,” Dr. Cho said, voice breaking slightly. “This virus that she’s fighting, it’s too strong.”
Bucky looked through the window, heart shattering as his blue eyes fell on the breathing mask they covered your mouth with, the tubes that kept you hydrated. You looked so… lifeless. Natasha sat by your side, her hand gripping your wrist, though you were so out of it, eyes barely open.
“He injected her with some sort of influenza. He knows the antidote, but he has less than eighteen hours.”
She noticed the worried look in his eyes. 
“She was constantly asking for you. Even in a state of being delirious, she was still calling for you. Natasha was able to calm her down.”
The soldier gulped. “Is… is she going to die?” 
For a moment, Dr. Cho couldn’t answer. She didn’t know the probability of the antidote being made on time. 
“James, I cannot answer that. But what I can say is that I will do everything in my power to keep her alive. She’s a fighter.” With that, she excused herself. Bucky stood still for a moment before pushing the door open.
The sounds of your heart monitor and the sounds of oxygen traveling through the tubes filled the room. Natasha’s emerald eyes met Bucky’s, a small smile presented on her face. 
“Any updates yet?” she asked, but it fell on deaf ears as Bucky kneeled at your bedside, grasping your limp hand tightly in his. 
The amount of pain that swirled in his mind was almost too unbearable. Your eyes met his, though you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Tears welled in your eyes as they rushed down your cheeks. 
“It’s okay, my love. I am right here.” His voice was above a whisper and pressed a kiss to your palm. “Tony and Bruce are gonna find a cure for you, honey. I promise. It’ll all be okay.” He felt you weakly try to grasp his hand back, but the action alone made you more tired. 
“I love you so much, baby. Words can’t comprehend my love for you. I want you to know that,” Tears welled in his own eyes, his hands reached up to cradle your cheek. You leaned into him. “I love you.”
Your skin was so warm under his touch. His eyes read over the stats on the open chart, seeing your temperature rise every hour. 
“She was injected with some sort of influenza. Tony and Bruce are working right now.” 
“Did you find anything else?”
Bucky kissed your hand, gently guiding your head back on the pillows. “Son of a bitch has the antidote. Had to break his nose just to get him to spill it out.” 
Natasha placed her hand on his shoulder. “I will stay with her and I’ll alert you guys if anything changes. Just try to hurry.”
Bucky nodded and leaned down, hugging your frail, weakened body and pressed a kiss against your chapped lips. “I love you, Y/n. I’m gonna fix this.”
He did not spare Natasha a glance as he stormed out of the medical wing, boots stomping with every step he took. Long strides took him to the end of the hall, where the elevator was.
“FRIDAY, where is Stark and Banner?”
“Both are in Mr. Stark’s lab. Shall I notify them that you are coming?”
“Tell them I have a stop to make first.” Bucky slammed the button to the interrogation level. “ I’m coming with the antidote.”
---
Donovan jumped in his seat when the doors opened, revealing the shadow of Bucky’s figure. A knife sat in his hand. The prisoner visibly shivered. 
“You know what I’m here for, Donovan.” 
“Come on, man! It hasn’t even been-”
The knife that was once held in Bucky’s hand was now lodged into metal table, an inch away from Donovan’s finger. 
“You’re fucking crazy!” 
“What happened to the tough guy act, huh? You wanted to act all big and bad up in Canada. Why the sudden change of heart?” Bucky taunted him, walking closer to the pad of paper that had been scribbled on, step by step, three pages, front and back. “Remember, you’re targeting my weak spot.”
He seemed ashamed, guilty almost. But it wasn’t because your life was in jeopardy. It was because he was caught, with no one left to save him. 
“You know, you’re already facing five counts of criminal charges of unauthorized access into government systems, you wanna add a murder charge to that? Assault with intent to cause bodily harm? That sounds like fifty years to me, that is with just the unauthorized access charges.” Bucky sat down across from him. “And if this,” he held up the paper, “isn’t true or it doesn’t cure her, you’re facing a very serious murder charge of a federal agent.”
“You’re nothing but a coward, Benjamin Croot. Tough guy act falls the minute you’re faced against someone who overpowers you. You’re gonna rot in that prison for the rest of your life.”  
---
It was morning.
The sun had risen fully. 
10:47 AM
Tony and Bruce had been hard at work, trying to figure out the antidote. It was nearing the afternoon, and they had been at it since nearly four in the morning. But neither were giving up. Not when your life was on a timer.
Bucky had dropped off the paper before going back up to the medical bay, spending his time with you. He hadn’t slept since he first woke up, his groggy eyes immediately landing on you staggering to the bathroom.
He laid in the small bed with you, balancing himself on the edge, giving you all the space. He had laid a damp rag over your forehead, in hope to cool you down a little. Tremors racked through your body suddenly, Bucky jolted. 
You laid still for a moment, eyes clenched shut, brows furrowed. An unpleasant gurgling sound came from you, body jerking slightly. Bucky’s eyes widened and he pressed the call button repeatedly before running to your side. You weren’t awake, you were warmer than before, heartbeat rapid as the monitor started to go crazy, alarms blasting. Dr. Cho and a couple nurses suddenly bursted into the room, eyes wide
“What’s wrong? What’s happening to her?” Bucky cried out, helplessly watching as they pushed you on the side. 
“She’s choking. Her lungs are filling up with fluids, and if we don't drain it, she will lose her.” Bucky’s eyes filled with horror. “Sergeant Barnes, I know you’re concerned for her health and safety, but I need my full attention if I’m gonna save her. Please.”
Bucky wordlessly nodded, his eyes fixated on your body, your face. 
Eyes closed.
Pale skin.
Lifeless, almost. 
The monitor flatlined. Bucky was pushed out of the room. Sheets pulled around your bed as voices screamed and yelled, though it was all distorted. 
“Bucky?” He turned to Sam, tears spilled over his cheeks. 
“She’s…” A cry got caught in his throat. “she’s flatlining.”
Chocolate eyes widened. 
“I need to find Tony and Bruce.”
Sam loved you like a sister. The two of you had always been close, ever since you joined the team. And when Sam laid eyes on you, defibrillator pads pressed on the exposed skin of your chest, head laid back, a knife twisted into his heart. 
Neither men didn’t move a muscle until the flatline changed to a faint beeping. 
---
“Please tell me you’re somewhat close to putting an antidote together.” Bucky and Sam pushed through the doors. Tony looked up, “How is she?”
“She’s running out of time, she flatlined for a minute,” Bucky rambled out. “Please, Tony. What do you have so far?”
“It’s almost done, I think. We followed every single one of the steps, used past remedies that have helped even Thor himself from a virus. But if this guys even altered one of these steps-”
“He’ll have to face me then.” Bucky finished. “Is it ready?” Tony nodded, though he had a look of hesitancy. “What is it?”
Tony looked over at Bruce, having just placed the antidote in the freezer. “It needs to maintain a temperature of -50 degrees. Meaning…”
“You need to bring her down here, or else it won’t work. I have all the medical supplies she’ll need down here. I just need you to transport her.” 
“I’ll do it.” Bucky said, not that anyone else would have even offered. “Have every single thing ready by the time I step foot in here.”
“I’ll inform Cho.”
Both scientists nodded, scrambling to ready the emergency medical cot. Sam followed Bucky as they raced through the stairwell, racing up the stairs, though adrenaline gave Bucky all the energy in the world it seemed. 
Once he reached the room, Sam sprinted to ready the elevators, to get you to the lab as quickly as possible. Dr. Cho had removed all the tubes and wires off of you, only an oxygen mask with a tank attached. 
“Come on, baby,” Bucky strapped the oxygen tank to his back and slid his arms underneath your knees and shoulders, and ever so gently he lifted you up, grey hospital gown drenched in sweat. Your head lolled back, arms and legs completely limp. “I got you, baby, I’ve got you.”
With you laid against his chest, he moved swiftly, his pace faster than normal and it wasn’t long until he was in the elevator with you, nearly unconscious in his arms. Bucky looked down at you and rested his forehead against your sweaty hair, though it did not bother him in the slightest. 
Your brows furrowed for a moment, followed by a whimper. “We’re getting there, love. We’re almost there.”
The doors opened and Bucky made a beeline for the lab doors, immediately going to the corner of the room where they had the cot set up. As gently as he could, he cradled the back of your head as he placed you down on the mat, softly placing the tank on the ground. 
“Okay, now Tony.” Bruce unbuttoned the gown at the shoulder, revealing where you were attacked. Bucky held the side of your face, caressing your cheek. 
He had placed a part of his armor on the hand piece as he took it out of the freezer, glancing  at the space from the freezer to you, and in two big strides he held the needle just above the darkening bruise and quickly administered it into your skin. He pressed the button and a fluid was shot into your shoulder.
Your body shuddered for a moment, there was no sudden movement from you.
It was the longest minute of Bucky’s life, his eyes filling up with tears. The sudden rise and fall of your chest kept getting  stronger with every breath you sucked in. The bruise surrounding your shoulder slowly vanished, your natural skin color coming back. 
When your eyes peeled open, Bucky nearly sobbed in relief, crashing on his knees as he gripped your arms. 
“Y/n, baby, can you hear me?” he pleaded desperately. 
“B-Bucky,” your voice was raspy and raw.
“Oh my god, you’re okay. You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” he muttered over and over like a mantra, cradling the back of your head as he peppered your forehead and cheeks with kisses. You were still a little warm, not as life threatening as it was beforehand.
“W-where am I?” you tiredly asked, eyes roaming around the lab. “What happened?”
 Bucky gently took the oxygen mask off, replacing it with a nasal tube. “You were poisoned, honey.” Flashes of you flatlining not even two hours ago flooded his mind, but he shook them away. You were well and alive, breathing with a steady pulse. “You were really sick for a while, 
but Tony and Bruce here made a cure for you.”
You nodded, still a bit drowsy from the near death experience. “What about… him?” 
Though your voice was barely above a whisper, Bucky heard you clearly. “He’s already taken care of. If I had it my way, the bastard would spend the rest of his life on Raft for all I care.”
Tony chuckled, coming over to pat your hair and a quick kiss to your head. “Leave that to me, kiddo. This kid doesn’t know what’s coming to him. Get some rest, hon.”
Bruce, Tony and Sam all bidded you a goodbye, leaving the two of you alone. 
Bucky cradled your face in his hands, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. “I love you, sweet girl.”
“I love you, too, Bucky.” You sounded downright exhausted. But you could finally rest. “This is why I stay behind the computers.”
Bucky chuckled and laid against the pillows, pulling you to lay on his chest. “Valid.” Your laugh was a tired one, Bucky could tell. “C’mon baby, let’s nap together.” 
You had no obligations on that, closing your eyes as you held onto Bucky’s arm, lulling to sleep. 
Finally, Bucky could rest knowing that you were at ease and finally able to rest without being in pain. His eyes drifted shut and you both finally succumbed to a well deserved rest.
--
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matrixbearer2024 · 4 months
Text
Reunited Again Aren't We?
Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
A/N: Lololol I felt bad I left you guys on a cliffhanger in "Troubles Unforeseen" so here's Vox's POV to the whole thing. Bro already has minor panic episodes when you go inactive so let's see how he deals with the fact you're just entirely gone. Oh and this chapter will feature a bit of the iconic radio demon because trolling Vox will never be unfunny to me HAHAHAHA.
A/N: This interlude's gonna be a wild ride, it's also gonna have some lore dumps because of Lucifer lolol. Hence it is fucking LONG- Btw please send me ideas for Vox and Reader now that they've reunited in death. Fluffy, angsty, smutty, doesn't really matter hahaha, I'm still going for the slowburn btw so please keep that in mind XD ANYWAYS- I hope you guys enjoy this interlude and as always, happy reading!
There was something wrong.
Like, really really wrong.
At least to a certain technology overlord.
Vox just couldn't get rid of the sick feeling he had in his gut.
It had been just a few hours after you said you'd leave for the party.
Knowing that, he tried to just distract himself with his work and hoping the feeling would go away.
Only to find himself counting minutes as nothing seemed to change.
Against his better judgement, he found himself shooting you a quick message.
He was just checking in on you, no harm no foul right?
"Hey doll, how's the party?"
He stared at the phone for a bit, wishing you'd reply and quickly put his paranoia and nerves to rest.
Instead, Vox was quickly reminded that he had a broadcast in a few minutes by his secretary.
Fuck.
He just really couldn't shake that ominous feeling.
Despite that, he put on a charming smile and just went about his business.
Unfortunately, he'd lost track of time after getting swarmed up by work.
So it was only hours later that Vox was able to check back in on you.
And to his dismay, there was still nothing from your end.
You didn't even see his message.
He tries to convince himself that he's just being paranoid.
That there really wasn't anything wrong.
But as he was staring at the screens connected to your gadgets hoping for even just the slightest activity-
The one that showed your phone suddenly fizzled out into static and abhorrently loud white noise.
He recoiled from the loud noise before the panic finally settled in.
Vox had known you for almost two years-
And this hadn't happened once.
The screen where your phone's interface had once been just went back to being one of his typical monitors.
Displaying statistics, graphs, surveillance and whatnot.
The overlord quickly checked if he could still interact with your laptop and tablet and breathed a sigh of relief when he could.
Especially when he could still control that little desktop version he made in his likeness for you.
So, maybe things didn't entirely go to shit.
But still-
What fucking happened?!
He kinda goes off the walls blowing up your notifications or trying to get your attention through the devices he was still tied to.
Which only makes his anxiety worse when there's still no response from you at all.
At this point, it's been a few hours since you've completed dropped off the radar and Vox was just not having a great time.
Were you still at the party or something???
That was of course until a news article appeared as a notification on your laptop.
Vox knew he shouldn't have cared about it much, it was probably just another one of those internet clickbait things anyway.
Especially with the headline.
"Students Injured by Drunk Driver, One Dead"
Who wouldn't think that was an exaggerated story?
But something in the back of his mind demanded that he check it.
It was probably the paranoia filling up with just all the worst possible scenarios.
The overlord just shook his head, he'll check it just to prove to himself you weren't part of it.
Just anything that could tell him that you were okay.
But the second he opened the article to read through it-
Vox immediately felt his stomach drop.
He could immediately identify the bloodied individuals in the headline picture.
It was your group of friends that had gotten caught in that accident.
And it was you who'd gotten killed.
Seeing you bloodied and battered in the outfit you so proudly showed him mere hours ago made him feel downright horrid.
It was like he couldn't even breathe.
No-
No way!
It couldn't be, it was just someone that looked like you!
It had to be!
Was what the overlord tried to tell himself.
But when he scrolled down the page and saw your name written in the article as the one unfortunate death-
Vox knew for certain that he didn't see wrong.
The sick feeling he'd been getting was his instincts giving him a warning.
A warning he didn't heed.
And it costed you.
He sat there in his chair for a minute trying to process it all, especially when the overwhelming guilt finally hit.
Vox wasn't ever one to feel that way, especially in his ruthless line of work.
Not to mention how he generally is a cutthroat businessman who would do anything to get what he wanted.
But when it came to you, he felt immense regret for not having better painted his worry.
That he didn't tell you something felt really off.
It was a new kind of weight at the moment, especially when he was still shell shocked from the blitzkrieg of information.
And even if you still chose to go to the party-
He still could have warned you.
And that was a fact he couldn't let go.
Holding his screen in his hands, Vox just sat there trying to calm himself down.
He definitely couldn't just go back to work like this.
This was bad.
He couldn't remember the last time he felt this kind of overwhelming anxiety.
Was that it?
Would he ever see you again?
Or had he lost you for good?
The overlord was about to kind of just let his emotions run it's course until another realization hit him.
It only popped up in his mind when he saw some random surveillance footage of the city on another one of his monitors.
If you were dead-
There was a chance you could be down here.
He highly doubted it given your nature-
But there was still a chance.
He hadn't lost you yet.
So that was how Vox found himself rapidly traveling through wires and cameras all over pentagram city just holding onto a thread of hope that you would be around somewhere.
Velvette had given him an odd look when he just bolted of the Vee tower like his own ass was on fire but he couldn't bring himself to care.
The priority was you.
As he had unfortunately realized over time.
Zapping himself around through some cables, and cameras wasn't hard.
Tiring as he continued to do it but moving around like a shock of electricity was nothing new to the overlord of technology.
The problem now being that Vox had absolutely no idea where to even begin looking.
Pentagram city was huge, there was his tech and products in nearly every corner.
Aside from Alastor's stupid hotel-
And maybe cannibal town-
So it wasn't that difficult for him to get places.
But where would he even start?
It was unlike him to do something in such a sporadic manner.
Appearing here, appearing there-
Just to check, just to see.
He'd completely lost his cool in his panic and tried to picture what you'd look like as a sinner.
If there's one thing Vox had grown to recognize and love about you, it was your bright eyes.
That gaze that always looked at him with either cheer or mischief.
He was certain that wouldn't have changed even if you were launched into heaven or hell.
Problem was that didn't narrow his options at all.
How was he supposed to know how your other physical features would translate once you were down here?
Hell, he had a TV for a head!
The overlord zapped himself out of a nearby CCTV camera with a huff.
He couldn't keep traveling like that unless he wanted to exhaust himself before he'd even searched half of the pride ring.
So he straightened out his bow and brushed off his suit before just walking down the sidewalk and subtly searching that way.
He wasn't phased when some sinners took pictures of him, nor did he have the capacity to even care.
As long as they didn't get in his way, he left them be.
So imagine his surprise at the sense of familiarity he got passing by someone staring at the display TV screens on one of his many stores.
He swears he's never seen the person before, but there was something about their vibe that just hit like a sense of Deja vu.
Looking over at the sinner that seemed to even be amused at one of his broadcast reruns-
He got a good look of your face.
Your gaze really didn't change.
"Huh, so this is what he does down here. Goofy ass TV-"
And that was your voice.
He wouldn't mistake that anywhere.
"(Y/N)?"
You screamed in shock before you turned your equally surprised gaze to him.
When you met his eyes, Vox knew for sure it was you.
"Vox!!!"
You dropped the bag you were holding and immediately tackled him in a hug.
The overlord opened his arms instinctively to catch you, but he was caught off guard by your sudden movement that he ended up falling backwards and landing on his ass with you in his hold.
He couldn't really say anything when you were just rambling on and on into his chest about who knows what.
Vox couldn't even keep track of what you said.
He was just too relieved to still have you around.
It took a brief moment for him to tighten his hug on you, fearing that if he let go you would disappear.
The both of you stayed like that for a good while, until a certain princess Morningstar and her girlfriend found the two of you.
"(Y/N)???"
"(Y/N) get away from him!"
Vox could only compare how fast you whipped your head around to the times he'd caught you doing something silly.
Subconsciously his hold tightened on you as Vaggie approached, how in Lucifer's name did they even know you were here?
"No! I'd been looking for Vox ever since I ended up down here! I know he's not going to hurt me!"
He was more surprised at how quick you were to defend him, especially since-
Wait-
You'd been looking for him ever since you ended up in hell?
He couldn't catch the rest of the conversation you had with Vaggie and Charlie as he was too busy buffering.
By the time he'd finally been able to pay attention again, you were helping him stand back up with a bashful smile.
And that was when his worry finally reared it's ugly head.
"Wh- How the fuck are you even down here?! I told you to be careful and you'd gotten yourself killed?!"
"As if that's my fucking fault! How was I supposed to know I was gonna die that night?!"
The both of you go back and forth for a little while and you slowly calmed Vox down from his emotional rollercoaster.
He only noticed he was shaking slightly when you grabbed his hand and smiled at him.
A smile Vox was scared he'd never even see again.
He felt a little funny with your hand in his, not to mention just how small your palms were against his own.
"I'm okay now, see? You're such a worry wart."
"I could've lost you, why wouldn't I be?"
You just flick his screen with your free hand in response, but Vox didn't miss the slight red that dusted your cheeks accompanying your pout.
It was only then that he was able to get a good look at you.
He wanted to both laugh and scream at the fact you seemed to have taken traits of a doe, ears and all.
It was like Alastor just had to give him a middle finger no matter what he did.
He also noticed your outfit was the same as the one you had died in, which was probably a hint that you hadn't been down here for long.
Plus, you were just...
Short.
Well, you only stood up to his chest so you just seemed small in comparison to him.
A soft cough brought his attention away from you.
Ah.
Right.
"Hey there Mr. Vox! I see you're well acquainted with (Y/N)!"
Vox was about to just shrug off Charlie's greeting and leave with you when he noticed your stern gaze.
Oh fine, he'll play nice.
"You can just call me Vox, princess. No need for the formalities. It's a pleasure meeting you!"
He returned, extending his free hand to shake with his signature grin propped up on his screen.
Charlie just smiled and shook his hand, introducing herself and Vaggie.
Well, he already knew who they were but he played along.
"Oh just call me Charlie and this is Vaggie, we were actually just shopping with (Y/N) before you appeared?"
Huh?
Vox raised an eyebrow at you but you just nonchalantly pointed to the dropped groceries nearby the two of you just sitting on the sidewalk.
So that was what you were holding before you tackled him.
Before he could respond to Charlie however, you beat him to it.
"Saaaaaay why don't you go back to the hotel with us?"
"Excuse me?"
"I mean I'd reckon it's not like you have anything else to do if you're out here."
Vox didn't really know how he was supposed to react first.
One, he was done with the day's work so you had him kind of cornered.
It wasn't like he could say no to you anyway-
And two, the hotel-
If Charlie and Vaggie were here with you then he could assume what hotel you were talking about.
And he was absolutely livid because he knew fucking Alastor was there.
Alastor.
And you were staying there?!
Though it seems like you heard his thoughts and poked his screen to snap him out of it.
"Oh and don't worry about Alastor, I've been a pain in his side ever since I came to the hotel. He's just really easy to piss off, kind of like you actually- and it's entertaining to watch."
Vox just gave you an annoyed glare from the comparison to which you shrugged.
Though when he weighed his options, maybe it was for the best that you stayed at the hotel despite his rival being there.
It was probably the safest space in hell at the moment-
Especially with how they were able to drive away the exorcists.
That and...
He wasn't so sure about having you in the same space as Valentino.
The pimp already blew up at him when you were just on his phone-
How much more if you guys were in the same room?
He broke from that train of thought though when you just suddenly started messing with his bow tie.
Tugging and poking, Vox couldn't help but find your behaviors as puzzling as it was cute.
He gaze softened slightly at you before he chuckled.
"Just what do you think you're doing doll?"
"Messing with your tie, what else?"
"Hmm, I can see that. Mind telling me why?"
"Cuz I can? Besides- do you wear this outfit all the time?"
"Only when I'm working, aren't you curious."
"Eh, it's all I've seen you wear so I figured I'd ask. Besides, this is the first time we've physically met."
Vox missed the weird glance Charlie and Vaggie gave the both of you.
Not that he would've noticed anyway when you were busy taking up all his attention.
Eventually, you were able to talk the tech overlord into walking you back to the hotel.
He felt a little weird when you finally let go of his hand to pick up the groceries you'd dropped but he wasn't sure why.
Well, more like you were dragging him along.
Charlie and Vaggie were talking excitedly in the front as he just strolled alongside you.
He wasn't really paying attention to them.
"I don't actually know much about what happened in the accident, just that it was a car crash. Speaking of- how did you know I died?"
"A news article popped up on your computer, I almost thought it was clickbait at first."
"Huh, well at least I ended up on the news!"
You both fell seamlessly into conversation all the way on your walk.
And despite you just behaving the same Vox was familiar with, seeing your reactions in person was a completely different experience.
Your energy was almost contagious even.
Vox just intended to drop you off at the hotel and return to his tower-
But you being you, decided to drag him inside despite his protests.
Charlie and Vaggie went ahead inside with the groceries while you once again grabbed Vox's hand to take him inside.
The overlord could already feel all eyes on him the second he stepped through the doors.
Talk about awkward.
"Greetings old pal! What brings you around here?"
Vox visibly cringed when he heard Alastor, forcing his trademark smile onto his face before looking at the deer.
Everyone already seemed to be taking cover for the inevitable fight that was going to happen between the two overlords when-
"Cut the shit Alastor, I don't need you antagonizing Vox when I want to chill out with him."
Vox didn't even have room to reply when your voice immediately cut through the tension like a knife through butter.
Even he looked at you with slightly widened eyes, did you just not fear Alastor at all?
In hindsight, Vox realized you didn't seem to fear him at all when you guys met so was this really unexpected?
The radio demon only narrowed his eyes at you in annoyance, static starting to surround him and you simply crossed your arms.
"If this is meant to be scary, I suggest trying something else. Cuz, you're honestly kinda just being creepy."
Alastor tilted his head before suddenly laughing off your words, your own deer ears pinning back in irritation.
"Why I was just trying to say hello my dear! No need to get so hostile!"
"Don't call me that. It's either my name or nothing ya weirdo."
That piqued Vox's interest, you never had any issues with his petnames-
And yet it seems like you had every bone to pick with his rival.
Was that because of him???
He bit back a laugh and just continued to spectate your exchange.
"If you do insist (Y/N), but I will say you have a terrible taste in companions."
You just flipped Alastor the bird and Vox raised an eyebrow at you.
He didn't even have to say a word to the deer before he disappeared back into the shadows.
"So what was that about who antagonizing who?"
"So much as say another word about this exchange I'm going to punch your screen in Vox."
"That's if you can reach it dollface."
And just like that, you both fell back into your usual banter.
The others would've thought you and Vox were arguing if it weren't for the seemingly genuine grins on both your faces.
There wasn't an air of hostility around you and Vox like when you confronted Alastor.
It was friendly, which was... weird to say the least.
All the more for the current residents of the hotel.
You were a new arrival, so the fact you were so buddy-buddy with one media overlord while having every bone to pick with the other was a little confusing.
Not to mention that Vox was kind of just... there.
Like he wasn't trying to strike up a deal, or even do anything to the hotel.
Was he there just for you???
That fact made them more concerned about your backstory than anything.
When a lull in the conversation between you and Vox finally hit, Angel spoke up.
"Say uh, toots. How'd you end up down here?"
You didn't seem to mind the nickname this time, instead simply shrugging nonchalantly.
Vox was sure now you just said you had problems with it because it was Alastor.
"That's actually a good question. I've got no idea."
"Seriously? Then how do you explain the fact you're friends with like- hell's biggest media overlord?!"
"Oh that? I met Vox when I was alive. No biggie though."
Vox just snickered from everyone's dumbfounded expressions.
Of course he could leave it to you to completely misunderstand just how important the title of "overlord" is.
"I think I might be able to help figure out why you're down here (Y/N)."
It almost entirely caught Vox off guard when Lucifer of all people suddenly made his presence known.
Not to mention the guy was just really short.
Like- wow.
You'd think with all the paintings and tales he'd be a bit more intimidating too but nope.
Vox just looked over at you next to him while you just gratefully gave Lucifer a hug and accepted his offer.
Seems like he wasn't wrong when he mentioned that you could easily make friends anywhere in the past.
The overlord nodded his head slightly to acknowledge the king of hell but was more focused on what he was going to do to help.
It wasn't like they could just watch your entire life on rewind-
Or could they?
Vox just watches as Lucifer uses his magic to form this... golden orb thing in front of everyone.
So color him shocked when it suddenly starts playing some of your memories.
From when you met him because of the ouija board incident-
Up until the point you died.
Was he the reason for your damnation???
Was that why the orb showed that??
"So that's how you guys know each other- don't see anything that could've caused you to be down here though. Let's go farther back."
What-
Now the overlord was completely stumped.
Just what.
Okay, maybe he jumped to conclusions too soon.
Apparently, from skimming through your memories- it seems like the main reason why you were down here with the rest of them-
Was because you stole a candy bar when you were like- five.
"And you were worried about not meeting me."
"I mean, how was I supposed to know I was damned since I was FIVE?! What the hell is this bullshit?!"
Vox could only laugh at you throwing a hissy fit, everyone else around you still being a little confused and dumbfounded that you were in hell for such a small and kind of idiotic reason.
"It's not funny Vox! I can't believe I'm stuck down here because of a fucking candy bar!"
"I thought you didn't mind being down here?"
"Oh trust me I don't, I'm good with wherever you are. But I could've at least gone down for a cooler reason! Fucking hell!"
He couldn't help but smile fondly as you continued to rant.
It wasn't the first time he'd seen you like this, but he always found it cute anyway.
Screens between you both or not.
519 notes · View notes
yooo-lets-go · 1 year
Note
I wanted to ask about Roach’s antenna.
I know it’s part of your artwork for him as a chaotic buggy boi but is are there any headcanons you’d add to it?
My personal take is that they partly act as a tracking device because he gets into weird places and he might be hard to find sometimes. Another feature I like to think about is that he likes to bob his head up and down so they tap on everyone’s heads (like how ants tap each other with antenna to communicate or check identity) as an excuse to “confirm non-imposter status”
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At first I thought they could be like some radio antenna but now idk
Emergency fruit loop storage 😆
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What if he just duct tapes random shit to his helmet and everyone’s trying really hard not to comment on it (he wants them to)
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I think he’d like ants
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2K notes · View notes
kaylopolis · 10 days
Text
Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter Four
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Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral
Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power… 
Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut 
Masterlist Link: Masterlist
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Author note: Dear Hoteliers, This chapter needed to happen to expand the plot. Don't worry, smut is coming soon - like next chapter soon! BTW this was written after episode 7 of Helluva Boss, Full Moon events have not yet happened.
<3 Stay smutty
Chapter Four - The Meeting
Content Warning: none, but let me know if I missed any!
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Husk said he didn’t think you liked surprises and boy was he right. 
Charlie screamed the second you entered the kitchen, thrusting a present box into your arms. You were pissed, having not slept, tossing and turning in the silence of the night. 
You really needed to find a radio - it’s music had lulled you to sleep in the past - but now you were hesitant. The radio was Alastor’s domain, and you didn’t know what kind of power the device would have now that he was back in Hell. 
It’s the same reason why you never got a cell phone - you didn’t want Vox tracking your whereabouts or having access to your video camera. It would be a lot easier to figure out who you were if you did. 
You used the new collection of syrups and powders to make real creations for the staff to enjoy. You had to admit, it was fun, and finally gave you a chance to make a jasmine latte to your liking - something you hadn’t had since your early days working at the cafe. 
Alastor was nowhere to be found. So he didn’t see the tension in your body as you ate breakfast. He didn’t see you slip out after Angel and Husk got into it over the news of the Porn Star’s employer - now officially revealed to be Valentino. He didn’t see you tiptoe to your room, lock the door, pull your leather armor and cloak from the Void and clean them before today’s meeting. 
You checked for his shadow of course, to see if he was watching, but for whatever reason, the darkness was still. 
Doning your black garb, you double checked the silver stitching around the hood of your cloak, ensuring the magic seal was still intact. A few loose strands caught your attention but nothing serious enough to disrupt the enchantment. 
Okay. You were going out. In broad daylight. To attend a meeting with the most powerful Overlords in Hell. 
What could go wrong? 
____________________________________________
“Ope! Ope! Ope! Ope!” 
You landed on the sidewalk in a pile of… eggs? 
They stopped their incessant noise making before turning to you, confused but intrigued by the smoke pooling at your feet. 
“Are you on fire?” 
“Why can’t we see your face?”
“You smell like jasmine.” 
“Can I touch your cloak?” 
Sir Pentious’ eggs. What were they doing here? 
You took the elevator to the penthouse - which was really weird. Normally you’d just fly to the top and take the terrace entrance in, but Carmilla Carmine was hosting and she had earned your respect. Not simply because she had invited you, but for the many things before. 
“...I’m sure you’ve all been wondering!” Alastor’s voice hits you at the same time as the static finds your skin. 
Fuck.
“Not really, but welcome back in any case.” You tried hard to hold back your snort as you rounded the corner, appearing at the entrance of the conference room. 
“Ah, you’ve made it,” Carmine gestures to you. 
All eyes flit to you, cementing you to the tile floor where you stood. You did your best to keep your eyes locked with Carmilla’s not wanting to send the wrong message with a wondering gaze. You weren’t here to challenge anyone, certainly not on your first day, you were here as a guest of Carmilla’s and to stake a claim to the seat which has been offered. 
They room falls silent before Zestial finally speaks up. “Tis this the infamous Shadow thou spoke of, Carmilla?” 
You bow your head to the Overlord - and you mean “The” Overlord for he was the first. You had never met him in person before, but you’ve heard of him. 
God, he was even more glorious in person. You could taste the power wafting off him from where you stood. 
“What the heck! What is he doing here?” Zeeze began to protest. 
The colors of her fur were wild enough to make you sick. 
“I invited him,” Carmilla answered dismissively as if it was obvious. Zeezee and a few of the other Overlords protested save for Rosie and Alastor. You didn’t dare turn to them, however, you couldn’t risk anyone in this room catching any hint of your relationship with the Queen of the Cannibals nor could you risk Alastor suspecting any familiarity. 
Fucking Alastor. You blocked out his gaze the most from your mind.  
“The Shadow has risen to power faster second to none other than Alastor himself.” She gestures to the Radio Demon whose eyes haven’t left your form. “He now holds enough souls to rival even your own count, Zeezee. He’s earned a spot at this table.” 
Ha. Fuck you. 
“This is the Shadow…” Rosie chimes in. “Ha! I thought he’d be taller.” She laughs from Alastor’s side. 
“Well then!” The Radio Demon’s smile reappeared, catching you off guard. It’s a really good thing they couldn’t see your hands shaking beneath the cloak. “Please, do take a seat!” He motioned with his microphone to a chair at the end of the table. A shadowed hand wrapped around the leg and pulled it out, inviting you to sit. Once the others saw Rosie and Alastor cave, they felt a bit more relaxed - not enough to drop their guard, however.  
Rosie’s eyes caught yours at the other end of the table. She gave you an imperceptibly small smile, fleeting so as not to attract too much attention. 
At least you had one ally in this room. 
“This year's Extermination was brutal, far more even than years past. We have assessed that about 16% of the population was lost,” a slide projector turns on behind her. “With the angelic legions now returning twice as quickly, I think it prudent we…” The door slams inwards, a loud-mouthed Velvette barging into the meeting. 
God, it was good that you needed to keep yourself composed here, otherwise you’d rip her head off and burn it to ashes. Every interaction you had with her just pushed the line more and more. 
She hangs up the phone, turning to grab the back of your chair and… “What in the Hell is this!?” Velvette motions to you sitting in the chair. “What is this piece of trash doing, sitting in my seat!?”
Smoke began pooling at your feet, angrily twisting about itself in waves. 
“Nice of you to join us, Velvette. Will your… colleagues be joining us?” Carmilla ignored her. 
“What? No, they have better shit to do than to listen to an old windbag who thinks she's tough shit. I'm here to represent or I would be if this wanker would get out of my seat.” 
You didn’t move an inch. Moving would be yielding power to Velvette and you couldn’t let that happen. 
“Velvette, let me introduce you to the Shadow,” Carmilla motioned to you. 
Her red sclera flit between you and the weapons-dealing Overlord. “Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of name is ‘Shadow’ anyway?” She snorted. “This is so going on my Sinstagram. I can’t… Oh!” The purple phone explodes in her hand. 
You didn’t do that… 
Alastor laughs from his chair, “Oh my, what a mess you’ve made.” Her phone lay in a heap on the ground, electrical sparks flying every which way. 
Her tan skin turned a beat red, “Listen here you cock-sucking…” Her hand phases through your cloak as she attempts to grab you. She stands stunned, staring at her hand as if she couldn’t believe it herself. 
It was a cheap trick, but oh-so satisfying when it happened. No one could take the cloak off of you. Not unless you were dead or they knew who you were. 
You loved old magic. 
Velvette stood shell-shocked and speechless. 
No one stood up for you. No one intervened. They were all just as curious to see what you would do next. 
With a snap of your fingers, you pulled a chair from the Void, surrounding the materialization process with blue flame - just for flare. It was a dingy chair, metal and worn - nothing compared to the grand plush ones set aside for the other guests. That, however, was intentional. Summoning the chair wasn’t giving in to her tantrum, it was an insult in and of itself.
“Thank you, Shadow,” Carmilla nodded to you. “So, as I was saying, we need to discuss…”
Velvette uses the chair as a stepping stool, shooting daggers with her eyes at your face. She steps before you, her feet on the table, blocking your view of the room. 
Bitch. 
“On the subject of discussion…” She throws the severed head of an Exorcist across the table.
Oh, here we go! A dead Exorcist - if that didn’t speed up your plans you didn’t know what would! 
You watched as Velvette launched herself into a - obviously rehearsed - speech regarding an assault plan on Heaven. 
Ha! Vox and Valentino sure had big balls if they think they can take the fight to them. On the other hand, you would love to see that happen. They’d be squished before they even made it to the gates, turned into a pile of recycled electronics and whatever the fuck moths had - feathers? 
You’d find some way to take Velvette down personally. Take her out in the chaos with an angelic blade and blame it on the Exorcists of Heaven. You wouldn’t have the credit for the kill of course but did you really need that to begin with? 
The only reason you were sitting here, showing the world a face, assigning a name to your killings was because of Rosie. She was the one to convince you to take hold of the power you so rightfully earned when you were adamant about staying in the shadows. 
You couldn’t lie to yourself, though; the power you had in sitting here, seeing Velvette’s face turn red, was worth it. 
“We know not how this perished. Mayhaps t'was not by a demon's hand at all. If we rush to war without knowing mightn't, they purge all of Hell for daring an uprising?” Zestial chimed in. 
You chuckled deep and low, earning a glare from Alastor. 
“Oh, I get it. So Grandpa is too pussy to fight, so I guess there's no point, right?” She jumps into the Overlord’s face. “Oh, what's the matter, Fossil? Too senile to make a real power grab for…”
“You better show some respect!” Carmilla interrupts Velvette. 
Ugh, Sinners were always so dramatic. This was like dealing with the Crimson Mafia but worse - they didn’t have some Gen Z spoiled brat to deal with. 
You took advantage of the distraction, using the time to study each of the Overlord’s without them knowing. Zeezee was a big… uh… Hell hound? Which didn’t make any sense since Hell hounds were Native born, but that was a mystery for a different day. 
The Von Eldritch representative was absent, but you’d never interacted with him before either. The unnamed Overlord sat to Zeezi’s right, silent and emotionless. Carmilla and her daughters you had already known for years. Zestial was… God, he was a dream. 
The Overlord dripped with power. You wondered, just out of curiosity and not actuality, what he would be like to fight. He seemed so elegant and refined, sitting there sipping his tea. Is his fighting style much of the same? Would he seduce you with his lethality? You had heard that lesser demons flee just upon the sight of him. What has he done to earn such respect? You wanted to know, you wanted to…
Static crawled its way up your spine, freezing your muscles and silencing your thoughts. You felt the air shift beneath your smoke - no, the shadows shift beneath your smoke. They were cold, like how a summer day’s temperature drops in the shade. You could feel them as they shifted beneath you, slithering against your robes.
Alastor. 
You looked up to find the Overlord peering down at you, both hands crossed, his chin resting in his palms. His eyes were half-lidded as they raked over your cloaked form, like he was analyzing you, like he could see straight through the smoke and shadows to you underneath. It made you feel vulnerable. It made you feel weak. 
You met his gaze, not letting his intimidation show. You sensed curiosity from the Overlord. Sniffing, you tried again to smell his emotion, but the room was filled with the iritation wafting off of Velvette and Carmilla - cinnamon. Ugh, you hated cinnamon. 
Your eyes narrowed at the red demon, hoping he moves his gaze, but when he doesn’t relent you decide to repay his stare with a wandering set of eyes of your own. 
He was lean, yet built - his broad chest forming an upside down triangle disappearing into a slim waist line. Donning one of his well-pressed suits and matching slacks. His sense of style was impeccable you had to give him that - but of course, Rosie dressed him and you loved everything she made. Even if she forced you into a dress. He wore gloves - he always wore gloves - but his hands though…
Images of his claws scraping across your cheek and down your skin come flooding back. A shiver runs through your core at the memory of his touch on your neck, the way he licked his lips at the sight of the blood pumping through your veins. Alastor turned ravenous at the thought of tasting you. Fucking cannibals. 
But the way you moaned? God, how embarrassing. You had never made a sound like that in your life. Where had it come from? Why had it happened? 
And why did you like it?
Why did you want him to squeeze harder, to drag your lips to his…
Stop! 
Your face heated at the thought. Alarmed, you pulled your gaze back into your lap, earning a small chuckle from the Radio Demon. 
Where the fuck did that come from!? Get your shit together! You’re supposed to be a badass Overlord in a very important meeting right now. There was no space for thoughts of Alastor and… NO. NOPE. NOT GOING THERE.  
Of course such a devious man would be so enticing! It’s probably how he claimed his victims up top. Get them to like him and smile at them. Maybe he flirted and twirled their hair, before taking their hand and luring them into the dark forest with promises of… NO! STOP IT!
Jesus Christ, it was a really good thing no one could see your face right now. 
Velvette suddenly appeared, her nose mere inches from yours, “This isn’t fucking over!” She jumped to the ground, kicking the chair you pulled from the Void into the wall. “Safe travels back to the nursing home, fuckers! Kiss my ass!” She flipped you all off on her way out. 
It was silent for a beat before Alastor chimed, “That was a productive meeting!” 
What part of that was productive? 
The Overlords all got up from their chairs and headed for the exit, you follow suit, a little saddened at the fact that this meeting went nowhere. You had such high hopes the moment Velvette pulled out the severed head. Ugh, guess you were going to have to continue with Plan A. 
“Shadow,” Carmilla called. Her and her daughters hadn’t yet moved from their spots. “May I call on you later?” Zestial stood next to her, finishing his tea. 
You nodded before…
“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” Alastor stepped into your path, his hand outstretched. “Alastor, pleasure to meet you.”
Your palm was far, far smaller in his grip than you had expected. If his hands were this big then did that mean his…
You stifle a cough, hoping he doesn’t notice. “Charmed.”
His eyes narrow. 
Oh, he noticed. 
“May I interest you in a drink? I see it impertinent to get to know someone such as yourself as we may be able to… benefit one another.” The edges of his smile curled. It made your stomach bubble with anxiety - not the same feelings as butterflies, you should point out. 
Your eyes drifted back to the room, finding Rosie absent. You knew Alastor was going to pay an interest in the Shadow once he was made aware of your presence. You had risen to power just as fast as he had - how could he not pay attention to you? You just didn’t expect it right off the bat. 
“Alastor is a respectable man,” Carmilla jumps in. “He can be trusted” Her eyes weighed heavily on you. She was throwing you a bone, trying to tell you what to do in this situation. 
Alastor respected only those who respected him. Insult him and he will show you no kindness -  Vox being the prime example. You weren’t prepared to take him on just yet, and if he ever found out who you really were, it would completely derail your plans. Besides, if you shut the door now, there was no telling if or when it was going to open again. Remember what you had decided last night at the bar: get to know the Radio Demon, throw him off the scent. 
Pulling the obsidian calling card from your breast pocket, you held it out to him. “A drop of scarlet beneath night’s mistress.” 
A drop of scarlet: blood. The night’s mistress: darkness. Anyone in possession of an obsidian calling card merely had to drip a single drop of their blood atop the card. That drop of blood was the tie in you needed to begin a deal with whomever summoned you. 
Only certain people carried those cards, those who you had bestowed the gift upon. Only once had a card fallen into the wrong hands - and ONLY once. You would never let that happen again. Which was why, from here on out, you needed to be picky with whom you entrusted these to. You didn’t know if you could trust the Radio Demon, but again you couldn’t let this door close. 
“Oh! How ominous.” He slipped the card into his jacket pocket as you exited the conference room, doing your best to ignore the pinpoint glare on the back of your head and the demon who held it. 
____________________________________________
SLAM! Velvette kicks the door open, stomping her way into Vox’s office. “That cock-sucking bastard! Who the fuck does he think he is!?” 
Vox rolled his eyes, continuing to click away on the computer monitor, “No, please Velvette come right in.” 
The brat demon slumped into a chair, her boots kicking up on the desk’s top. The female Vee reclined in the chair, a look of pure anger on her face. “He sat in my seat. My seat! And insulted me right in front of the Overlords of Hell!” 
“Uh-huh,” Vox feigned interest, continuing to click away. 
“And the Old-ass Hag let him! They all just sat there and let him! Where was the fucking respect!?” The Vee jumped to her feet, a thumb jabbed into her chest. “I’m Velvette - the Velvette. I’m a fucking Overlord! He’s just a glorified bed sheet with an attitude!” 
“Yeah,” Vox switched to a different browser - still not listening.
“He’s dead.” Velvette declared, climbing onto the desk. “He’s fucking dead the next time I see him.”
“That sounds nice,” Vox mindlessly added. 
“That sounds nice? What… What the fuck are you doin’?” The female Vee reached down and spun the monitor around. 
A thousand tabs were open, each containing different social media page profiles, image searches, or links to various surveillance cameras around town. 
Velvette shot the media demon a dumb look. “This is why you had to skip the meeting!? You’re still lookin’ for that girl, aren’t you?” 
“What?” Vox pretended to look offended. “No! I’m not… I mean… Why would I…?” His words trailed off at the sight of Velvette’s irritated face. “Maybe.”
Velvette rolled her eyes. “Give me your phone,” she held out her hand. 
“Use your own phone!” The media demon snapped.
Velvette’s glare turned lethal. “You do not want to mess with me today, princess. Give me the goddamn phone!” 
Vox knew better than to argue with the female Vee when she was in a mood. 
Handing over the device, he watched as she clicked across various different media sites before she paused on one in particular. All in all she took about three minutes total of searching before she turned the device around.
And there you were. Hidden amongst a million photos of bugs and random blurry pictures of red ceilings and floors was you in Angel’s arms. 
“How the Hell…” Vox reached for his phone, staring dumbfounded at the photo.
Velvette smirked, a wicked gleam in her eye, “Guess where your mysterious Alley Girl is staying…” 
Vox read the page name, his one eye blinking red with rage, “Alastor…”
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“The Vees are going to be a problem,” Carmilla pondered, one hand wrapped around her chin. 
“I agree,” you growled from your place atop the terrace. The night was colder than expected - perhaps an ominous omen of what was to come. 
“What do you suggest, Mother?” Odette chimed from the chair. Her sister silent and still as always. 
“I suggest we do nothing,” she shrugged, “but wait and watch. If the Vees want to take up arms against the Angels they will not do so alone. We need to ensure that they stay alone.” At that, she eyed you. 
You knew what that meant - a lot of fucking nights at the V Tower listening to a whole lot of nothing. She needed you to play spy. Carmilla would do her part, of course, watching and learning using her own set of spies - she wasn’t one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell for her weapons business alone. 
You stood there and waited for her to name her price. Watching the Vees was in her best interest - not yours. She didn’t know that, but she knew you disliked them so and she knew your services weren’t free. They were never free. Finally, she laid down a number. You weren’t happy with it, but you also owed Carmilla for your seat at the table. Thus, you wouldn’t complain. 
Turning, you headed for the edge of the balcony, preparing to jump before she stopped you again. “I feel the need to explain myself.”
You had another place to be tonight and, of course, you were already late. 
You don’t turn back to her, expecting this to be brief. 
“My girls and I have known you from the beginning,” Carmilla began. From the corner of your eye, you watch Odette and Clara’s eyes grow big. “And although you don’t trust me anymore, know this. I do not do the things I do for you because of who you are, but because of who you have made yourself into.” 
Images of Clara’s blood and Carmilla’s screams fill your vision. You shake the memory away. 
“The last thing I wish to see is you harmed.” Her voice breaks. “I. Am. Sorry.”
Your eyes flit to Clara, yet the girl didn’t meet your gaze, guilt held in her tight-lipped mouth. 
You knew how sorry she was. You knew. 
You take off into the night. 
____________________________________________
From the shadows of the I.M.P office rose a figure clad in red. 
The imp working the desk jumped in shock, spewing coffee over the papers on his desk. “Holy shit! Mr. Radio… The Radio… Over… Demon Lord…”
“Alastor, is fine. Pleasure,” the demon smiled, his teeth and eyes practically glowing in the night. 
“Moxie! Millie! Fuck! Get in here!” He screamed at the door, sprinting to the otherside of the desk to pull out a chair. The wooden seat shoke in his arms, clacking against the floorboards. Even the Natives were afraid of him, it seemed. 
Two smaller imps burst through, but jumped back at the sight of the Overlord seated in front of Blitz’s desk. 
“The… The… Radio… De… Demon…” Moxie tried to speak from behind the cover of his darling wife, but words would not agree with him.
“Yes, yes,” Alastor waved. “I believe we’ve covered that part already, haven’t we?”
Blitz pulled out about fifty pens, only one making it into his hand and the other fourty nine spewing onto the floor. He ripped a few pieces of paper before finally pulling one free and set about writing notes. “What can we do ya’ for, your Overlordness?” He gave an awkward laugh, his elbow tipping the cup of coffee over on his desk. “Shit. Fuck. Shit. Moxie get me a towel!”
The lesser imp and his wife disappeared from the room. 
“I need you to find someone for me,” Alastor purred, his hands resting atop his microphone. 
“Find someone… We don’t really do…” As Blitz talked, the green glare of Alastor’s aura began to fill the room. 
Blitz swallowed dryly, trying to think. “Yeah, Oh… Okay we can find someone for you. What’s their name?”
“I don’t know,” Alastor’s smile strained. He didn’t like not having the upper hand in any situation. Part of the reason why he was here, he needed more information. He needed leverage, just in case. 
“You don’t know…” Blitz rose an eyebrow. 
“What’s a hound got to do to get some sleep around…” A female Hellhound turned the corner, coming eye to eye with Alastor before slinking away, whining as she went. 
“No, I do not know, for they are already dead and do not go by their Christian name,” Alastor continued. 
“Already dead… What the fuck are you here for? We kill alive people.” Blitz was now thoroughly confused, but Alastor was having none of that. 
“I want information on who and what they did when they were alive,” His smile was strained against his teeth. His patience was being tested. 
“Why?” The imp asked. 
Wrong thing to say. 
“Oooooh, shit,” Blitz jumped behind his desk to shield himself from the growing mass that was Alastor’s demon form. “Okay! Okay!” The imp caved. “We’ll do whatever you want! We just need a name! Shit. Somewhere to start, at least!?” 
The Radio Demon shrank back, finally happy to hear some progress. It was getting harder and harder to contain his anger lately. 
“She goes by Thestral.”
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-> Link to Chapter Five
Masterlist Link: Masterlist
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stormberry-12 · 1 year
Text
faceless // P1: the mask... take it off ~ charles leclerc x reader
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pairing: charles leclerc x fem!driver!reader
includes/authors notes: language, lack of equal rights/ gender equality, readers an unknown figure in the races, fem!reader's gender assumed as male, use of "y/n".
Bold Italics are the past.
Normal Italics are thoughts or radio messages.
summary: "There is a new mysterious driver on the grid. Nobody knows who he is, the only thing we know is that he races for Red Bull with the number 66. Other drivers call him the faceless driver for none have ever seen his face or heard him speak. The faceless driver is a legend in the making and even giving Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen a run for their money…”
~<>~<>~<>~<>~
Come on y/n!  you told yourself. You could feel the car beneath you hum as you broke smoothly into the corner, speeding up once again on the straight. Repeating these movements over and over like clockwork, as you did laps around the track, maintaining your position in first.
Throttle.
Break.
Turn.
Repeat.
Driving in a car as nice as a Red Bull felt euphoric, the car was sleek and fast. You glided across the pavement with the perfect amount of traction, you could overtake in your sleep.
"Nice work 66, you've lapped the back of the grid. Tsunoda coming up on your right at P20." your race engineer informed.
Clicking on your voice changer and the radio you responded, "Roger, thanks Rick,"
You lapped multiple people, continuing to feel at ease behind the wheel, your race could not be going better and you were well on your way to pulling ahead of your competition in the championship standings.
But you see, that was kind of a stressor...
Your boyfriend Charles had no fucking clue you were racing, hell he didn't even know you had ever stepped foot near a car before you met him. When you got the call from Christian Horner that he wanted you on the team you were beyond ecstatic, but of course, being the first woman in Formula One, there were some hesitations.
You had never had a huge social media presence and the thought of interviews made you nervous. Not to mention the massive fan population of Formula One that you felt already stalked you enough after meeting Charles.
Voicing your concerns with your new team principal was not a problem, and to be honest it sounded like he agreed with everything you had to say. Making you feel confident about your choice, even if you had nerves going into this alone and keeping it from your boyfriend.
"I completely understand y/n," Christian said over the phone. "I think if we send you out into the media, the drivers and them will eat you alive, not saying you couldn't handle it but that is a lot of unnecessary pressure."
"Yes," you replied. "And I want to be taken seriously, I believe people not knowing I'm a woman might just make my life a whole lot easier."
"And this is why I picked you y/n, you're serious about your work and are smart about it. I think this year is going to work out just fine."
You and Christian whipped up the plan to create a mysterious persona. You would use a voice-altering device at all times, people called you 66, no interviews or media were ever allowed, and absolutely no one could know your real identity. Not even your teammate Max, who had clearly been fuming since Horner started to favor your superior driving skills on the track, without even having a name.
"Box, box," Rick quipped, pulling you out of your thoughts, that sounded about right. You were about to take the second pit of your two-stop strategy. Replacing your worn-out hards with fresh medium tires that would last you until the end of the race and warm up perfectly for fastest lap attempts.
You turned the last corner before the entrance to the pit wall came into view, slowing the car, you took a clean park just outside your garage. After a quick few bumps up and down your car was released again, rolling down the pit lane and back out into the race. That must have been the fastest pit stop of your life. You speed past a Ferarri to maintain your previous spot in first.
Holy shit, that was Charles.
You pushed the car to the max, pulling away little by little, trying to brush off the achy feeling you felt when you saw the bright red race car in your rearview mirror. But you didn't feel right and it wasn't the thought of Charles, not feeling as calm in the car as you usually did put you even more on edge. Something was off. Something was wrong.
It was taking more effort to drag the car around corners and every time you tried to break, something in your car hissed like a cat being held above water.
"Ri-ck-y, wha-at the h-ell is going on?" your masked voice shook over the radio from the tremor of your car.
"Um, looking at it right now 66,"
You knew it wasn't Rick's fault of course and he was always on top of things when it came to your needs during the race. You didn't need to panic, he would fix it.
Stay calm y/n.
Stay fucking calm.
"Oh no, once she starts quoting Micheal from The Office you know shits about to go down," your best friend Sarah cackled.
"STAY FUCKING CALM PEOPLE!" you shrieked, pulling smoking cookies out of the oven. You could hear Lando rolling around on the ground, laughing so hard he was crying.
"It's not on fire love, you're blowing out nothing..." Charles smirked, making Lando wheeze next to him. 
"Okay, don't panic 66"
"I'm not fucking panicking-"
"Oi... watch your language," You could practically hear Ricky's smirk in his voice, except he seemed uneasy.
"Ok, dad,"
"66, focus."
"Right sorry,"
"I'm going to need you to box again,"
"WHAT?"
"I'm. Going. To. Need. You. To. Box. Again."
"FOR WHAT?"
"Your left rear tire is loose, I'm sorry mate,"
You felt like you were going to scream, how the hell does that happen? The simple pit stop your crew has been doing all year, and they can't put the tire on tight.
"UHHHHH" you groaned.
"I know, I'm sorry, box this lap please,"
You drove the car as best you could around another corner, the pit lane was still about half the track away so you would have to stick it out. Charles however, was gaining on you from your slow lap times with the wonky tire. Oh boy, Charles was really gaining on you.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
The car jerked to the left, and you struggled to maintain control of the wheel. The back of the car shook as you pushed it faster, you could not let Charles pass you by this much, even if you got a fresh set of tires you wouldn't have enough laps to regain pole position. The red Ferarri pulled into view beside you making your heart clench and pulse quicken.
"Leclerc trying to overtake on your right," Rick warned, "Be careful with that tire!"
Too fucking late Ricky.
The back of your car slipped, sending both you and Charles hurdling toward the barriers. You braced for impact, head pulsing, ears ringing. You tried to take a deep breath, letting oxygen into your lungs, instead, they were greeted with thick grey smoke. You could see flashes of red around you and heard people screaming outside the car, why were you still sitting there?
"Mate! Do you copy? Get the hell out of the car 66!" Rick yelled into your ear.
Both of the cars had burst into flames. You removed your steering wheel and neck guard, holding onto the halo above you in order to pull yourself out. Your boot had gotten stuck somewhere under the seat and no matter how hard you yanked on your leg, it would not budge. Your body felt weak, and muscles throughout your body shook with fear and fatigue.
The radio must have failed at some point because Rick had stopped yapping your ear off, leaving you to your own thoughts and tears that had started streaming down your face.
"Please don't advance towards the fire!" someone shouted. "Mr. Leclerc!"
Looking up you saw Charles. He had weaved himself through a part of the car that was not in flames, holding out a hand to help you. Taking his hand you both used all of your strength to pull and release yourself from the cockpit of the car. Your foot popped free and survival instinct took over, sending you both running out of the flames.
"Thank you," you mumbled, making sure the voice changer was not damaged in your helmet before speaking to him.
Charles just grunted, lifting his visor, and then his helmet from his head. He pulled off the white balaclava as well and stuffed it into the helmet. 
"What the fuck was that mate?" he asked, green eyes dark. You panicked and remained silent, to be honest, you didn't really know what you had just done. Pushing the car was one of the stupidest things you could have done with a loose tire. 
You slowly backed away, you needed to get out of here.
"Mate what-?" Charles let out an aggressive sigh as you turned away. "I saved your bloody life after you tried to end mine! The least you could do is talk it out-" he was yelling now and you just walked away. You knew you would hear all about this later anyway.
"Sir, I'm going to need you to step into the medical car," a sharp-looking woman with glasses tapped her clipboard and then pointed to the car with her pen.
You just kept walking.
"Sir!"
"What a dick-" you heard Charles say in the distance, making guilt build up in your chest.
The tears continued to fall once more as you made your way to the Red Bull garage, you were glad the heavy helmet covered your face, and that you made the deal to never remove it. You could feel the stands of people staring at you, some cheered, some booed, other people stared with looks of fear or adoration. That crash was a mixture of emotions for everyone.
The stares continued as you passed the engineers to head to your driver's room. Guilt filled you when it came to the team as well, who would spend the rest of the week getting you a new car started for next weekend's race. When you closed the door to your room you could hear whispers through the walls, everyone was pissed.
"Christian, I want to know who I'm dedicating countless hours to mate," an engineer said. "He fucking fried the car, and now I'll be fixing it for the next 5 days, I don't even know who the guy is."
Christian, who was right outside your door said, "I know Matt, I'm sorry it's just not an option right now."
"But-"
"Thank you for understanding, if you'll excuse me."
The door opened in front of you and your team principal walked in, closing and locking it behind him before he turned to stare at you. You took the hint and removed the sweaty helmet from your head, fresh air hitting your sweat-soaked skin.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, recalling the crash clearly in your mind.
"And so am I," he said, face remaining calm, "Our race control should have been better than that and your tire should not be hanging off your car during the race."
You gave him a small grateful smile, "I lit the fucking car on fire."
He let out a hoarse chuckle, "That you did. Look, I'm going to let you go find Charles, keep your cover and shit. We can talk about this later alright, there are still some things I think we should discuss."
"Okay, thank you sir," you said and once he left you slipped back into your street clothes, sleek jeans, and a black shirt. Brushing your hair into a messy bun, and trying to touch up your makeup before exiting out the back alleyway towards the Ferrari garage. By this point the race had ended and the crowds were bustling giving you a perfect opportunity to b-line to where Charles and Lando were standing.
"You need to get a girlfriend, Lando," Charles spoke, hitting his friend playfully, "How bout that girl over there?"
Lando looked to who Charles was pointing at, "Eh, maybe,"
"C'mon mateee, she's pretty. Some might even say stunning, go talk to her!"
"This morning I saw a YouTube video with a puppy riding a motorcycle. So my bar for stunning is pretty high."
"Okay, but maybe there are different bars for different situations...?"
What the fuck were you listening to?
"The bar is consistent, the only time I set the bar low is for limbo. Always keep the bar raised no matter what."
"Uhm, okay, your funeral," Charles said before spotting you, his face lit up and Lando turned over his shoulder to see what Charles was looking at.
"Look who it is!" Lando cheered. "Your girlfriend, Charles. Maybe you should focus on your own love life and not mine..."
"Where were you?" Charles asked, ignoring Lando. Pulling you into his side and placing a kiss on your head.
"Bathroom," You replied curtly, "needed to compose myself."
"Were you crying?" Charles questioned, eyes looking concerned.
"No." you grumbled, wiping away access mascara from under your eyes.
"Well I wouldn't blame her mate, you gave everyone quite a scare with that crash," Lando shrugged.
"Oh, I'm sorry baby, I promise I'm alright," your boyfriend cooed, pulling you into his chest for a tight hug. You chuckled and relaxed into his scent. Lando was called away after a few minutes leaving you and Charles alone.
"Should we head back to the hotel?" he questioned.
"Yeah," you sighed, squeezing his hand as the two of you walked to his car. He opened the passenger door for you before heading around to his side. Turning the key and pulling out of the parking lot he blasted his favorite French rap music that you didn't understand. 
"Uhh, what a day," he sighed.
"That looked like a nasty crash," you replied, "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Oh, yeah I'm fine," Charles said, "I hate the other guy,"
You gulped at his words and tried to keep your voice steady, "Yeah, we don't even know who he is though..."
"That's also a problem, like we get it, he's good. Hell, he's amazing. But now he's fucking up other people's races by being selfish, and then hiding behind his visor because he's too much of a coward to own up for the mistakes he and his team make-"
Holy shit. Is that how people saw you? A coward?
As Charles ranted on you felt your breathing quicken, images of the crash fluttered through your mind. What would happen if Charles found out about your secret? This was the best relationship that you had ever been in, you felt genuinely loved and cared for. The butterflies in your stomach never ceased when he was around, no matter how many times he complimented you. You hadn't fully said it to him but, shit, you were in love. 
Would he break up with you if he found out you had been lying?
Was it hot in here?
"Woah love, are you okay?" Charles asked pulling you from your thoughts. "You zoned out there for a second"
"Mhmm! I'm fine!" you forced a smile.
Charles's green eyes narrowed as he frowned, "You know you can tell me anything right?" his hand reached over the console to rub your thigh, reassuringly.
"Of course,"
He leaned over to place a kiss on your forehead before he continued to drive, he continued to talk about his race, and you hummed in agreement. You had back-to-back races so another one was just around the corner, you needed to pull yourself together. Growing less anxious as the night went on, a beautiful sunset captured your attention as the colors faded behind some hills, but the word coward still screamed in your mind that night as you drifted off to sleep.
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Current Tag List: @xxelin @summerslike11 @inlovewith-fictionalcharacters @trashcanrat @gramelda @magicman090909 @femalestarlord @captainbaeameric @cilliansfriend @heyheyheyggg @marvelobssesedperson
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strwbrrymlkjh · 1 year
Text
I can't say 'hello' to you and risk another goodbye
alhaitham x gn! reader
it was a casual day of strolling through the city looking for a gift for cyno and you never thought you would bump into someone you have avoided for a long time.
a/n: angst, hopeful ending, maybe OOC Alhaitham, title from 'i almost do' by taylor swift
wc: 2.5k
AO3
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Every year on June twenty-third, you and your friends gather to celebrate Cyno’s birthday. And with birthdays comes gifts. You were not able to attend his celebration for the previous year so you were trying to make it up to him this year by giving him something special. It was a casual day of strolling through the city looking for the most appropriate gift and the last thing you thought would happen was you bumping into someone you have avoided for a long time.
As it turns out, listing off TCG card shops inside your head was not a very good idea as you will be too preoccupied to notice the the tall figure standing in your way, too immersed in his own world as well.
It all happened so fast. One second you were walking and the next, a strong hand is holding your forearm to prevent you from falling face first on the sidewalk and embarrassing yourself in front of countless people. You are about to apologize for not looking at where you are going and having your head in the clouds but your words get caught in your throat once you take a good look at your savior.
Standing in front of you with the same towering height, serious and calculating eyes and extremely familiar soundproof earpieces is your former boyfriend Alhaitham. Scanning him from head to toe, you think that you might fall again despite his strong grip on your arm. You will gladly do so and let the earth swallow you from where you lay if it means saving yourself from interacting with him.
You are convinced that the universe is out to get you as Alhaitham slowly and carefully lets go of your arm and removes the device covering his ears.
"Are you hurt?” He asked while placing the earpieces on his neck. You shook your head no as you brushed off the imaginary dust on your pants. The feeling of his touch lingers on your arm.
"I should ask you the same thing. I was not really looking at where I am going so it was my fault for bumping into you. Sorry.” You responded sheepishly while staring at the tiles that adorned the street.
"I’m fine.” Still a man of few words, you taught.
You finally had the courage to steal a glance from him only to find that he was already staring at you. Averting your gaze as quickly as possible, you started thinking of ways to flee. You wanted this meeting to end as soon as possible, to run as fast and as far away from here as you can, but you couldn’t. It was as if your feet were glued to the floor as you tried to make up excuses in your head.
Oh, that’s it. You should just tell him that you were looking for a gift for someone.
"Uhm, I should -” you started.
"Are you here to buy something for Cyno?”
You stopped in your tracks. Ah, yes. Cyno is one of your mutual friends.
You almost forgot about that fact as it has been a year since you last spent time with Alhaitham. Twelve months of radio silence and actively going out of your way to avoid him. Anyone would think that you two had a bad breakup. If only that was what really happened.
You have been captivated by Alhaitham the first time you saw him when you were children. As a child, you did not understand why but he was the first and only person that made your heart beat so fast you could feel it on your tongue.
Confessing your feelings for him was a spur-of-the-moment decision. He just looked so beautiful that day silently standing beside you as you wait for your fellow scholars at Pardis Dhyai. His turquoise eyes glowing in the sunlight, gray hair dancing in the wind. You would not have been able to stop yourself from telling him that you like him even if you wanted to. To your disbelief, the aloof and stoic man agreed to go out with you.
Everything was going well at first. You were trying to get to know him on a different level - memorize his quirks, the things that make him tick. All your friends are happy for you both. But soon enough, the consequences of entering something without giving it much thought caught up to you.
You were hoping for a change in him once you became his significant other. Maybe a little more affection and communication. Instead, you felt alone in the relationship - always the only one to remember the important details about the other, always the only one initiating and planning dates.
You did not want him to change. You just wanted him to make you feel that he wanted you too. That he wanted to stay in this relationship with you.
At some point, you felt that you were burdening him with your presence, that you were disrupting his life. You start drowning yourself in what-ifs, your insecurities like fire gnawing at your stomach. Maybe he really is not the one for you, that there is someone out there for him. Someone you could never be; a person kinder and better than you. Better for him.
Ending what you had was not something you thought would happen but thinking about prolonging the agony for the both of you was more than enough reason to call it quits. So you did. And just like when you two got together, he simply nodded his head and agreed to break up with you.
You knew that being in his presence, even as friends, would only make you fall harder than ever before. You were trying so hard not to regret your decision so you decided to keep your distance. No speaking to each other, no stealing glances. You even refused to be in the same room as him until you have completely moved on.
In the past year where the both of you did not have a single significant interaction, you were confident that any trace of affection for him has completely disappeared. You thought you would be able to look at him without feeling any pain or regret.
That was not the case, it seems.
You were back to square one, feeling exactly the same way you felt that day you confessed to him. You wanted to reach out and wrap your arms around his waist, card your fingers through his hair, stare into those eyes and get lost in them. But you know you can’t do those things anymore.
You noticed that he was still waiting for your answer so you nodded, not trusting your words.
"I should get going.” You whispered, not wanting to spend another second in his presence lest you cry and confess your feelings for the second time.
It was rude to just leave him there without saying a proper goodbye but your tears were threatening to spill from your eyes so you just gave him a nod and without waiting for his reply, turned around and began walking away.
A quick escape is what you were expecting. What you were not expecting was nearly jumping out of your skin when his large hand made contact with your wrist and pulled you back to where you were standing seconds ago.
You stared at him with wide eyes, and judging by the look on his face, he was also shocked by what he had done. It took him a few more moments to get out of whatever trance he was in and he quickly released your hand.
“Uhm.” You did not know what else to say. Even after all this time, Alhaitham still has that effect on you.<
"I need your help,” He said. You looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate.
Noticing this, he added, “I have not chosen a gift for Cyno yet.”
Ohh
“Is it alright if I come with you?”
Everything in you was screaming to say no and walk away just as you planned. But you know you can never refuse this man, another thing that remains a fact even if you are not together anymore.
“Sure. No problem.” You responded in a small voice. You are convinced that your mind is playing tricks on you when you see a small smile grace his handsome face. His smiles were rare, after all.
“I was planning on buying something from there.” You pointed to a nearby trinket shop with TCG card banners hanging at the front.
“Lead the way.” He pushed the glass door and let you step inside first before trailing behind you. Your eyes scanned the objects on the display shelves and you felt the tears pricking your eyes once again.
“Alhaitham.” you called out his name which caught his attention. Saying it out loud felt foreign to your tongue after a long time of only whispering it in your head. The man turned around and stared at you.
“I’m going to look for TCG cards over there.” You pointed at the back of the shop. He kept his gaze on you for a few seconds before nodding his head.
You wiped the stray tears that escaped from your eyes while looking at the cards. You were not in your right mind to pick anything decent so you made it your goal to agree on the first thing that Alhaitham picks and leave like you originally planned to. You can always come back here before Cyno’s birthday anyway.
You lingered for a few more minutes, giving Alhaitham enough time to pick something. It was then that you noticed a shelf displaying preserved flowers in glass encasements. One particular flower caught your eye, a Padisarah.
It looked so beautiful inside the glass encasement, as if suspended in time. You smiled at the thought. If only you could have frozen time that day you confessed to Alhaitham, when the only thing you can feel is the overwhelming love you have for him. Maybe you would not feel as if a part of you was missing. Maybe then you would not have to spend sleepless nights being a prisoner of your thoughts, dissecting every interaction with him, trying to find some sort of signal that he likes you as much as you like him. Until now, it was almost impossible to tell how he feels about you.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you failed to notice Alhaitham’s presence behind you.
“Have you found something?” You were startled as you suddenly heard his deep voice. He has caught you staring so intently at the flowers that he can’t help but examine it too.
You needed to get out of here. “I have to go. Kaveh told me he needs help with things.” was your lame excuse.
Alhaitham looked like he was about to say something. Instead he kept his mouth shut and nodded his head with an indescribable look on his face. You felt bad for lying but you did not want to break down inside the store in front of him.
“I’m sorry. Maybe you’ll find something here.” You headed straight for the shop’s doors. You have no idea where you are headed but you really just want some place where you can let your tears out.
You have always been an emotional person. It was one of the key differences between you and Alhaitham. Despite this, he has been very patient with you - always accompanying you to wherever you wanted to go, helping you with the lessons that you found difficult to understand, silently listening to your rants after a bad day. The memory made you realize that he showed his affection for you in his own ways.
Maybe he was not lacking, you were simply not content.
You have not made it to your car when the unshed tears started escaping and soon enough, you were bawling your eyes out. For the first time since you convinced yourself that you have moved on, you allowed yourself to cry.
You were sitting on the curb trying to control your breathing when you heard a familiar voice call out your name. Lifting your head, you saw a disheveled Alhaitham holding a paper bag with the logo of the shop where you left him.
You did not have time to wipe your tears away when he suddenly bent down and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head.
I am so sorry,” the man whispered, his hold around you tightening. You were too shocked to even say a word. What is going on?
“I know I am the last person you want to see but I need you to know that I am so sorry for not saying anything and letting you walk away. I should have - “ his voice cracked.
“I should have said something.” he rested his head on your shoulder. You, still at a loss for words, became acutely aware of the close proximity of your faces. At this angle, you could see how tightly he has his eyes closed, as if stopping tears that are threatening to spill.
In a hoarse and broken voice, he continued, “Everyday, in a sea of faces, I find myself looking for yours. I missed you so much. You have no idea.”
You placed your hand on his cheeks urging him to pull back and allow you to properly look at him. It was the first time that you have seen him with this distraught and worried look on his handsome face.
He lifted the paper bag on the floor behind you and presented it to you. You opened the bag and the content was not something you were expecting. It was the preserved Padisarah you were staring at earlier.
You did not know what to say. You did not know what this meant. You looked at Alhaitham, hoping he has the answers to your unsaid questions.
“I thought you were shopping for Cyno.”
“I wasn't,” he admitted. Then closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for something. “I had no idea how to keep you from leaving and it was the only excuse I could come up with.”
"Please accept it. I will not inconvenience you any longer.” Your eyes widened at his words. He took your silence as a sign that you did not want anything to do with him. He started getting up and walking away but you were still frozen in your place.
You were hesitating, still in the prison of what-ifs you made for yourself. Between the both of you, Alhaitham was never the emotional one but he had been very honest with his feelings today and it was only fair for you to reciprocate. This was the second chance that you did not know you had been waiting for and you’ll be damned if you let it slip away.
Wiping your eyes, you stared at the flower as you placed it back carefully inside the bag before chasing after the man you’ve loved for so long that you can’t imagine ever loving someone else again.
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lisenberry · 11 days
Text
Blend In
Suggestive/Explicit Language, Mystery 141 x F!Reader.
MDNI!
1111k words (heavy on the -ish)
For @the-californicationist Nameless Challenge!
Congrats on 500K words, Cali!!
Put your guess in the comments as to who you think it is!
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You had no idea why you’d been chosen for this assignment, but you were not going to argue.  Certainly not with him.
Keeping any doubts to yourself, you checked the mirror in the bathroom one last time before exiting into the hotel room you shared with your teammate.  Well, not your teammate yet, but if all went well, your fingers were crossed for a spot on his elite task force. 
“What do you think, sir?”
As a mere corporal, just about everyone had a higher rank than you.  There was the distinguished Captain Price, Lieutenant Riley, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish.  Big (huge) shoes to fill, but you were ready to prove yourself.
“It’ll…do,” he muttered, turning his head quickly towards the surveillance equipment set up on the nearby desk.  “And don’t call me that.  We’re undercover, remember?” 
“Do I get a code name or something?  You all have badass nicknames, and I’m just...the new girl.”  You shrugged your shoulders and tried not to fuss over the plunging depth of your neckline that barely covered your pushed-up boobs, or the uncomfortable way the fabric hugged your hips.
“No, New Girl is the new girl.  You’re—Ah, fuck.  Here we go.  Time to get out there.”  He picked up something on the camera feed of the hotel’s ballroom and pointed to it with his finger.  “Target’s moving.”
“Who picked this dress?  I thought I was supposed to blend in.  It’s obscene for a wedding.”
“Not for an oligarch’s wedding.  Tits up, back straight, and do your job.”  He gave you one last look over, dragging his gaze up to meet yours, finally, before giving you an encouraging nod.
“Aye, aye.  Sir.”  You couldn’t help but add the last with a bold smirk.  Maybe it was the dress, or the mission, or the unexpected glint in his eye, but you had a good feeling about this.
********
You’d been gone for only ten minutes, and he was already doubting every aspect of this assignment.  As the only fluent Russian speaker who didn’t scream special forces in the ranks, you’d been the easy choice.  But you were also soft around the edges, and sweet as hell, with a smile and an inner kindness that would lower anyone’s defenses. 
What the fuck you were doing in the military, or how you’d made it this far, he had yet to figure out.
He’d only agreed to this at all because the stakes were low, as was the risk of danger.  All you needed was a cigarette butt or a discarded champagne glass.   A piece of cutlery left behind on a tray.  Even just a partial fingerprint would be enough for Laswell to make a positive ID.
He was not prepared for you to strike up a conversation with the third most lethal psychopath on the watch list, or let him put his hand on your ass and squeeze you close to his hips as he whispered suggestively in your ear. 
“Careful, sweetling,” your commanding officer gritted low into his radio.  The comms device in your ear was undetectable, but he didn’t want to startle you or alert the target that you were in contact with someone.
It could also pick up your conversation, not that he understood any of what you were saying.   It seemed to be mostly flirty banter and coy laughter.  The man was obviously trying to get in you back to his room.
He didn’t know much Russian, but he knew enough about men’s appetites to get the idea.  He’d had his own thoughts, just the good sense not to say them out loud.
And he could not believe what he was seeing on the camera.  A sudden, sinking flood of anxiety made him jump in his chair and clench his fists at the stress.  You were going with the man, following him as he escorted you out somewhere beyond the surveillance feed.
“Do not leave that ballroom.  I can’t track you out there.  Get back.  Abort!”
He knew you could hear him, but you weren’t following orders.  Being ignored was most certainly the root of his blinding rage, not his concern for your safety.  Or the hungry way the bastard had looked at you in the dress he’d handpicked himself for the way the color made your skin practically glow. 
The cut and size may have been a miscalculation, he admitted to himself, as he checked the clip in his handgun and hurried toward the door.   
“Fucking hell.  You’re going to get yourself killed, and if you don’t, then I’ll do it myself.  When I get my bloody hands on you, Cupcake, I swear—”
“Cupcake?  That’s the best you can do?”  You stood on the other side of the door, with your hands on your hips as he pulled it open, with a fierceness you’d only heard about from other recruits.
Suddenly directed at you, it was worse than you’d imagined.  He looked ready for war as his words caught in his throat. 
“There you are.  You’re alright?”
“I got his prints on my purse, his DNA on my tits, and a retina scan on my phone.  And his phone, for shits and giggles.”  You quickly held up your loot for his inspection, before he could catch his breath long enough to lecture you on your recklessness.
He swiped a big hand along his mouth for composure, but he still looked like he wanted to kill something.  Mostly you.
“DNA?”  His eyes darkened quickly, somehow even more than before, as he looked from your face to your aforementioned tits.
“Saliva, big guy.  I’m committed, but not that committed.  Calm down.”  But he didn’t of course, because you’d never actually seen him relaxed.  At least not around you. 
You’d heard stories that he was a generally likable bloke once you got to know him.  Earned his trust.  Maybe someday you would get to see that side of him.  From the looks of it, this wasn’t it.
“Your country thanks you for your service.”  He deadpanned, not appreciating your snark.  
“What about you, sir?  Did I make the team?”  You shifted on your heels hopefully, still brimming with energy from knocking out a man twice your size, watching him piss himself, and staging the scene to look like he’d passed out on his own.
“I’ll put in a request to my commanding officer as soon as we get back.” 
“Really?”  You stifled the urge to hug him in your excitement.
“No.  You’re never allowed to leave the base again.”
You weren’t deterred as you rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue behind his back.  You’d wear him down.  One way or another.
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lixxen · 1 year
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The Spot/Jonathan Ohnn Headcannons
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Here is a collection of SFW headcanons that I've made for The Spot.
I'll refer to him by his regular name for this. Will include general and relationship.
If y'all have any specific, send me an ask 💛💛
General
Jonathan loves cats. He adores them and prefers them over dogs
He is the least picky eater ever when it comes to what the food actually is, but presentation is everything to him
He clicks his pen three times whenever he is working. It is a nervous habit
He was always lanky and his family always called him a stringbean
He likes radio music and has never subscribed to music services. He only uses radios, even if he is an advanced scientist. If it's popular and on the radio, he listens. He doesn't prefer a specific genre
He has low scale diagnosed OCD, which makes him have to touch things three times or eat in pairs of twos. If he doesn't, he gets intrusive thoughts and feels the universe collapsing because he broke a pattern
His powers aren't fully stable and will react to his emotions. The less in control of his emotions, the less in control of his powers he has
He keeps all of his personal notes in journals. They're kept in boxes underneath his bed
He is described as "socially awkward and pathetic in the right way" by people he knows. But he is loved in the end
Jonathan is a brilliant scientist who has been fueled by the need to prove himself to others and to spite people who told him he couldn't do things
One of those people was his university roommate, Quentin Beck. The two are still friends, but Beck was the first person who challenged Jonathan directly
He studied alternate universe and the multiverse. The infinite possibilities always intrigued him
When he joined Alchamex, he found his true calling
He fit in quickly in the group of tight knit scientists he worked with. Dr. Liv Octavius was his direct boss and the two were close. She was the one who encouraged him to create the spots that would eventually be his demise and put him at the top of the collider project, underneath her
Jonathan didn't have any warm feelings towards the collider, knowing that something on that scale could cause major damage if it went wrong. But he went along with it because it would further his spot research
Pulling the spider out from Earth 42 was exciting. He could see a young boy at his desk, unassuming as the spider crawled towards him. Jonathan plucked it out from the universe and immediately branded it
When the spider escaped, he went searching for it. He followed the traces of energy, with a small device he created quickly, down underneath the collider. He watched from the shadows as he watched a young boy interact with who he assumed was a family member. He watched his spider bite and get killed by the young man
It took him time to go and collect the spider. He had to go tell Dr. Octavius that the spider escaped and got killed. She wasn't happy to hear it
Jonathan kept the spider, along with other work trophies in his home. He enjoyed seeing his achievements at home
That night the spider bit Miles, he cut all of his hair off. The needed to feel control in the situation and cutting off years of growing his hair made him feel better
He tracks Miles but doesn't report it to Kingpen or Dr. Octavius. He feels an odd sense of duty to the child. He created the kid's existence as a hero is because of him and he couldn't help but feel a sense of achievement. Another project that was successful
He holds spite against Miles for throwing a bagel at him. Of course it would be him getting hit. Because why wouldn't it. It put a sour taste in his mouth
As said in the movie, he was there to witness the collider exploding. He was working on his spot containment when he was emergency called down to the collider. He carried in the spots to see spider people, including Miles. He gripped onto the spots as he called out orders to the other scientists around him. He cringed when the machine went haywire
Then, it happened. It exploded and he was sent flying with the spots. He opened his eyes again as the jar shattered in his arms. They widened in horror as the spots started to consume him
Around him, his coworkers screamed in fear as they scattered. One grabbed Jonathan, trying to pull him out of the spots that were consuming him and away from the collider
They barely made it out of the room before it consumed him whole. He screamed in agony as it burned and he could feel his whole body being consumed
When he looked back up, his co-workers who were all still there, injured and scared, were staring at him. They asked him what he did and he looked around quickly. Seeing his reflection in the glass, he let out a small sob
He found out quickly what the spots did, as rubble fell onto a spot and they came out feet away. He tried to wipe off the spots, but they just merged and his hand went into them. It popped out next to a coworker who screamed
He got him and the coworkers out using his spots
The next day, he was ridiculed and fired by the owner. His family reacted badly and told him to leave him alone
This caused Jonathan to spiral and go into hiding for a year. He became depressed and tried to slowly get used to his spots
He started to use them to rob after eight months of using his savings
Relationships
He's a giddy type in relationships
He's almost obsessive, but not outwardly. He fusses over how his partner is feeling and will keep track of them. Not in a controlling way, but fear of people who dislike Alchamex
He will buy so many flowers. His partner will never be without them
He loves to cuddle. He loves skin to skin contact and will press his face into their neck, just to fall asleep instantly
He loves to ramble and will NOT shut up to whoever he's dating. He will tell them every aspect of his work and life
He can't dance, he's too lanky. But he tries his best. He'll try to woo them with it
He's a hopeless romantic and loves the idea of lavish dates and being perfect
He will definitely be the type of person who would raise hell if his partner is hurt or taken. He's the type to burn down the world for them once he's The Spot
He's very awkward at first, but once he's comfortable, he will be the best thing to ever happen
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midstpodcast · 4 months
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The music and sound design for Midst is absolutley masterful. You mentioned some cool and weird methods of making noises for the Fold - can you tell us of any other unconventional objects or noises youve used to create some of the tracks?
🎷: YES, YEP, I can tell you about cool and weird sounds ANYtime. Here’re a few fun ones in brief:
The Blinding’s sounds are heavily remixed and modified vocalizations from a variety of different types of seals.      
Years ago I had access to a storeroom full of defunct old A/V and electronic gear including old film projectors, vintage adding machines, typewriters, strange retro printers, and loads of other obscure electronics from the 50s-70s. I recorded tons of random audio in there of various contraptions doing various things, and a lot of that vintage machinery is what makes up the mechanical ambience of the Trust bank machines in the Central Vault and in Imelda’s mission.
S1E12 “Coda” was probably the most wild sound production episode of season 1, and I had several days of fun throwing myself bodily around the room, knocking over furniture, smashing pomagranates, and generally hyperventilating while semi-literally strangling myself. 10/10, would repeat. Good times. 
We decided that teletheric devices in Midst emit sound not with diaphragmatic speakers, but with organ-like pipettes that emit overtones (you can see them pictured in the episode icon for S1E03) – so processing audio in Midst to sound like it was coming out of a teletheric wasn’t just a simple process of making it sound “radio-y” with some EQing, but rather a fun techno-anthropological process of converting audio into mechanically-accurate harmonic sidebands based on the technology in-universe that we decided was creating that sound.
The reality-eating sound of the Tearror consuming the cave in S2E04 is 75% the sound of my cat snoring and digesting his breakfast. I stuck a stereo mic under his belly while he napped and recorded the whoosh of his breathing, the pulse of his heartbeat, and the gurgle of his lil' cat intestines for use as the stuff of nightmares. Scary sounds can sometimes come from very cute places!
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onesidedradiostatic · 2 months
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PATHETIC SHOWDOWN 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO
made a pathetic poll before, vox absolutely SWEPT against lucifer last time, pondered on it and thought hey out of all the people who could possibly evenly match up to vox in patheticness, ADAM might have a chance. SO
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POINTS (feel free to come up with your own I am grasping at straws here):
Adam
FOR
got cucked by lucifer TWICE
what's more pathetic than getting left by your wife? getting left by BOTH your wives
an actual dudebro
dumb as bricks
just look at him
"HES UGLY" "PUT THE MASK BACK ON"
actually fucking dies
and not even by lucifer by fucking niffty
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AGAINST
is actually a really powerful angel who could destroy alastor's shield with one punch and almost killed alastor
mentions that he does in fact fuck in episode 1
could possibly be argued to still have bitches with lute
Vox
some of these may just be copy and pasted from the last one. against will have new points to juxtapose adam though
if you've been around my space long enough you know these well
FOR
lost his own diss track against his rival
sings an entire number about not giving a fuck about his rival's return while being the only person TO give a fuck
tried to physically block a radio, an AUDIO output device as if it'd stop anything, failed at doing even that
his screen calls out the reason for his crashes and he seemingly can't control it
causes a city-wide blackout because his rival announced to everyone he rejected him
there is a non-zero possibility he was/is in love with said rival but said rival will never love him back
purposely avoided going to an overlords meeting and called his co-worker up at the very last minute to attend for him
the guy he appointed as a spy ended up being the very person to prove a sinner can be redeemed
coward who constantly hides behind screens
episode 8
AGAINST
he is capable in literally any context outside of alastor
debuts actually acting cunning
capable of coming up with something on the spot without hesitation (voxtek angelic security)
actually smart (able to interpret val's "put something inside them" comment as appointing a spy)
feared by his employees
well he didn't get left by anyone in an EXISTING relationship... he just got rejected in one that never started
he has bitches (yeah it's valentino but bitches are bitches okay!!)
is in fact not dead
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cl0ckworkpuppet · 6 months
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time for my monthly mp3 player propaganda post!
yall. don't fucking stream music off of youtube or spotify. they pay their creators shit. the most generous estimate i could find was artists being paid $1 for every 200 streams (0.5¢ per stream), and unless you're listening to songs on an album thousands times in total, it helps tremendously more to just. buy their albums or subscribe to a patreon-like service for them
mp3 players are laughably inexpensive (you can get a decent one with bluetooth for like $40-50 and you can get away with even less if you forego some features), many of them are drag-and-drop, no ads, decent enough sound quality for the average person, unlimited skips, track selection, regular play and shuffle, playlists, being able to shut off your screen, and more importantly, ALL OF THIS IS AVAILABLE WITHOUT A SUBSCRIPTION. i've always been an avid hater of subscription models. there are some things where it's understandable, but you shouldn't lose access to basic QOL features just because you can't or won't fork over $10-15 a month.
"b-b-but $50 is so expensive!" WRONG. $50 (which is more than i've EVER spend on a single mp3 player) is the equivalent to 5 months on spotify premium without discounts. if you can afford that, it's worth investing into a device that can last you literal years if you get a good one and take good care of it
"but i don't wanna carry around another device!" fair enough, but these things are small enough to fit in tiny pockets (mine fits snugly in the watch pocket of my jeans) and are typically light enough to not be burdensome. if you can carry around your phone, you can carry around an mp3 player
"what if people think i'm weird for having outdated technology" let them. it's worth it in my opinion if it means i get to listen to music ad-free. the most I've ever gotten was "wooooah bro's got the dinosaur tech" and i just thought that was funny personally
"but what if the artist collapses without a constant stream of money!!! i'm not supporting the artist!!!!!" companies try to pay as little as they can get away with to artists. most of that money goes to the CEO and other higher-ups.
"but piracy is bad!" Piracy is a Crime. However, downloading youtube videos/audio for your own PERSONAL, NON-COMMERCIAL USE and NOT REDISTRIBUTING THEM is legal (generally, in the US, check your laws, i am not a lawyer, not legal advice, blah blah blah). besides, i never said you had to pirate your music. in fact, i encourage you to buy the albums of and support your favourite artists in other ways. some artists might even provide links for people to download their songs for free in high quality anyway
not gonna link products just in case someone thinks i'm a shill. but literally just look up "mp3 player" on your search engine or shopping site of choice and find something that doesn't look like it'll fall apart if you breathe on it too hard
seriously guys. if you listen to music more than like a few hours a week, and you don't get all of your music from livestreams or radios (although mine can connect to AM/FM radio), consider investing in an mp3 player. i tried out using one regularly in fall of 2021, and I haven't looked back. don't let companies drain subscription money from you
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