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#she isn't that hard but I had to do some trick here and there
friskdistrollerroblox · 6 months
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Model of One I'm making in Blender! Still need rigging! But she is working pretty fine, might make small animations in the future with her. Have this small render image of One I made for testing.
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Also can someone tell my girly to please be patient, I ain't that good with bones, and shes getting irritated on me just cus I'm taking too long to place them...
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a-hazbin-reader · 7 months
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Can you do an Alastor x fem!reader where Alastor confesses his love to her, but she doesn't believe him, thinking it's some kind of sick joke? She just laughs nervously, saying something like “yeah, yeah, I got it, very good joke, Al, your humor is getting better,” expecting that it will actually turn out to be some kind of prank
However, Alastor doesn't stop and tries to convey to her that he really loves her, but she still doesn't believe him because she doesn't trust him completely. Like, he's the radio demon, one of the most dangerous and powerful overlords who seemingly despised the idea of ​​getting close to someone, what if he just wants to trick her so he can maybe make a deal with her or something?? That's why at first she tries to avoid him in order to get rid of this awkwardness due to his confessions, but gradually in the end she begins to meet him halfway and considers the idea of ​​​​starting to date him after all. Not official yet, but the chances are great
WELP-
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: None?? I think??
Description: ☝️⬆️
You're used to expecting the worst-case scenario and protecting your heart first and foremost, it's just how you learned to survive
You've learned not to trust anyone, especially anybody down here in hell with you, everyone has an ulterior motive
Yet...by some weird twist of fate you found yourself a home at the hotel, Charlie somehow having convinced you to stay
Whether or not you believed in redemption, you couldn't deny that you didn't feel a sense of closeness with everyone there
Even Alastor was nice to hang around sometimes, though you didn't trust him in the slightest
How could you? The Radio Demon?? He's got plans for his plans and only sees people for their use, he doesn't care about anyone, especially not you
You're just amusing to him, which is fine, you can tolerate being amusing just not being used
You had a comfortable relationship with the overlord which was something that not many people could say
You two got along well enough, spent a good amount of time together and actually had decent conversations
He'a charming and handsome, a dangerous combination but you were far too addicted to his presence now to worry about it, you can still protect your heart
Or at least you did, until Alastor decided to toy with your feelings, how he found out about your budding crush was beyond you
You two were walking alone together at night, laughing at some couple you two had witnessed earlier, teasing them
"I just don't understand how any man could be that whipped for a woman! I can't wrap my head around it..!"
Instead of joining in your laughter, he hummed and looked over at you strangely before looking ahead
"Oh, I don't know... I find myself understanding men like that a little more these days."
It's like a bucket of ice water just fell on you, your laughter cutting off as you look at him in confusion
"What do you mean? Are you...seeing someone or something?"
He looks as uncomfortable as a man with a permanent smile can be, tapping his claws against his staff
"Heavens no, but that doesn't mean there isn't someone special in my life... someone I wouldn't mind courting."
He gives you a meaningful glance then looks away again, stopping suddenly and facing you
"Alastor-"
"I wouldn't mind being whipped for you."
Your stomach sours and you frown, pushing at his shoulder a little harder than you meant to
"Yeah, that's real funny, Alastor. Why don't you go try that joke on someone else next time?"
You walk off as quickly as you can, leaving a baffled looking Alastor in your dust
Do you have any idea how hard it was for him to confess!? He grits his teeth and rubs his hand over his face as he watches you run away from him
You don't talk to him the next day, or the day after that, in fact... Alastor is pretty sure you're avoiding him because any time he tries to talk to you-
You find an excuse to run off, your relationship with him awkward and nervously hanging on by a thread
He ruined it and all your walls came right back up
You should've known he would exploit your weakness like that, should've seen that he was only being so good to you because he wanted to use everything he learned against you
You don't know what he gets out of it or what his goal is, but you're sure he's got an angle
Even now, he's trying to mess with your feelings, bringing you flowers, pushing little notes under your door, one time he even tried to serenade you
He keeps trying to tell you that he cares about you, that he feels for you, that he wants you, and you just don't want to hear it
It hurts to be toyed with
Everyone else at the hotel can see what's happening between you two which makes everything that much more embarrassing
"Come on, Husk! I know you know something! Why is he targeting me!? What do I have that he wants?"
Husk looks visibly uncomfortable, looking over your body before looking away, suddenly interested in a smudge on a glass
"I don't know anything so quit asking me! Why don't you just sit down and talk with him, huh?"
Oh, he knows something
Angel smirks and nudges your leg with his own, invading your personal space to further tease you
"You're tellin' me that you ain't flattered by all this attention he's givin' you? I've seen the way he's been mooning over you lately, and let me tell you~ That shit ain't fake~"
You huff and shake your head, mostly to hide the blush on your face from them
"He has an angle, everyone always does."
"Look if you wanna be a blind bitch then be my guest but at least promise me you'll hit that and tell me the details~?"
"ANGEL!"
You can't avoid Alastor forever no matter how hard you try, eventually running into him late one night when everyone else is in bed
You should've known better than to get that late night snack, but you had skipped dinner earlier, and you were hungry
You're washing your plate off when you hear Alastor walk in, stiffening once you realize you have no real excuse to run away anymore
"Alastor-"
He sucks in a breath and stays still as if scared he'll chase you away, which he might actually be worried about due to your actions lately
"I know you think I confessed to you in order to get something from you but that's far from the truth. I do genuinely find myself attached to you."
You feel your lip wobble a little, hugging yourself as you look away from him
"Don't. Don't you dare mess with me like this or I'll never forgive you, Alastor."
He takes another step closer to you, cautious as if trying not to scare you away
"I'm being entirely honest with you, I've fallen for you in ways I can't even begin to understand or convey to you. These last few weeks have been torture for me."
He's gripping your arms gently to stop you from turning away, the simple touch spreading warmth throughout your body
You have missed him a lot...
"I'm not asking that you confess your love to me, I only want a chance to show you I'm being genuine with you..."
You glance up at him before taking a step back, blushing furiously at the pathetic puppy eyes he's giving you
You can't believe you're going to agree to this, he better not make you regret it later or you'll make him suffer for it
You sigh and point at him, doing your best to remain calm and not let your emotions show
"I'll think about it, okay? Just...give me time to think."
He visibly relaxes and sighs in relief, giving you a warm smile as if you had just said yes
"That's more than I could ask for, I'll wait hundreds of years for you if that's what you want."
You blush more and have to cover your mouth to stop an excited squeal from escaping your lips
"Q-quit flirting with me! I already said I'd think about it..!"
He chuckles softly and reaches out to rub your cheek before pulling away and turning to leave
"Okay okay~ I'll wait for you...~"
He leaves you there in the dark, blushing and fuming to yourself
Having a handsome overlord on your arm wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen to you
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I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!
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redroomreflections · 2 months
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Hotel California | Track 1: Smoke and Mirrors
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Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.
W/c: 7k
Chapter 1/12
Masterlist | General Masterlist
Note: I was going to wait to post this since I have fifty-leven WIPs but to make up for me not being able to write for a while and also finishing two stories in the coming weeks - here we are. I'm nervous about posting this one for some reason. Hope y'all like it.
Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs
Track 1 - Smoke and Mirrors (each chapter is a track)
In the world of music, there's no denying that Velvet Rebellion's sound is electric, their melodies are undeniably addictive. But offstage, the drama and chaos surrounding this band have been the subject of endless tabloid fodder. It's a classic case of the music being sweet, but the rest of the package is a tad sour. Will their rock 'n' roll lifestyle ultimately overshadow their undeniable talent? That remains the question on everyone's lips.
The TV channel flicking produced a rapid succession of blips and static.
"You know, when it comes to Velvet Rebellion, it's clear that Natasha Romanoff is the best thing about the band. Her vocals are just on another level!"
"Oh, absolutely! Natasha's stage presence is incredible, and her voice, that raw emotion she pours into every note, it's what sets them apart. But let's not forget the rest of the band; they bring their own magic to the mix!"
Another press of the button. Another channel emitting the same rhetoric. 
"So, what are your thoughts on Velvet Rebellion, the band that seems to be taking the music scene by storm?"
"Look, I won't deny that they've had their moments. Natasha's got a powerful voice, and they've had some catchy tunes. But let's not forget, there's more to rock 'n' roll than just one person. We bring our own unique sound to the table, and we're here to show that rock isn't a one-trick pony."
Suddenly, the screen goes black. The television has been turned off. The room is silent. 
“Whatever,” The mysterious person tsks. There are better things to do. 
In the dimly lit room, the first flicker of a cigarette lighter illuminated a shadowy figure, and a guitar's haunting melody echoed through the air. It was a simple beginning, a humble birth of sound that would eventually become the anthem of a generation.
Images flashed in rapid succession—a chaotic whirlwind of memories and moments that had defined their journey from obscurity to stardom. The flashing lights of a small, dimly lit club, the very place where they had played their first gig, gave way to a sea of screaming fans, arms raised in fervent adoration.
“Bucky! Bucky!”
“Steve, we love you!”
Talk show interviews brought them into living rooms across the nation, their faces beamed into millions of homes as they shared their stories and their music with the world. The camera panned to Natasha, her fierce gaze unyielding as she answered questions with poise and grace.
And then, there were the guitars. Guitars being smashed in a blaze of glory on stage, a ritual that had become their trademark. The destructive catharsis of the act symbolized the release of their raw energy and passion into the world.
Groupies and fans clamored for their attention, their devotion evident in the longing looks and outstretched hands. Each face in the crowd told a story of how Velvet Rebellion's music had touched their lives.
Late-night studio sessions followed, with the band working tirelessly into the early hours, crafting the songs and lyrics that had earned them their place in music history. In the dimly lit room, the flicker of a cigarette lighter once again marked the beginning of a new song.
Magazine covers splashed with their images adorned newsstands across the country. Excerpts from clippings of their first studio album, "Velvet Love," told a tale of raw, unbridled emotion set to music—a story that had resonated with countless souls.
The montage painted a vivid picture of a band that had journeyed through the highs and lows of fame, never losing sight of the music that had brought them together. Velvet Rebellion had carved its path through the music industry, leaving an unforgettable mark on the hearts of those who had listened and loved.
*************
Sunlight filters through the curtains of Natasha and Wanda's cozy Los Angeles apartment. Disheveled yet determined, Natasha sits on the edge of her bed, cradling her guitar. She strums the strings absentmindedly, searching for that inspiration that once fueled Velvet Rebellion. Her fingers danced over the strings of her trusty guitar, each note a whisper in the quiet solitude of the bedroom.
Natasha's hair framed her face, and frustration lined her expression as she strummed the chords once again. The next album's melodies were meant to be born here. Yet, inspiration remained at arm’s length, teasing her like a fading dream.
"Come on Natalia," she whispered gruffly, remembering the name she had left behind long ago.
With a sigh, she shifted her gaze to the muted TV on the dresser. A NEWS REPORTER's face appeared on the screen, accompanied by headlines that could never escape the relentless clutches of the media. She searched for the remote to turn up the volume as the face of one of her bandmates, Tony Stark’s pictures appeared. 
NEWS REPORTER
(on TV)
“In a surprising turn of events, Velvet Rebellion's Tony Stark was arrested last night for public indecency.”
Natasha's eye-roll was instinctive. Tony always had a way of making headlines for all the wrong reasons.
NEWS REPORTER
(on TV)
“...fans and critics alike have noted the band's gradual decline, and it seems the once-revered punk rock indie sensation is now on the verge of falling apart.”
The reporter's words cut through Natasha's indifference, a scalding reminder of the shadows that had been gathering around them. She couldn't deny it; the band had been stagnant for too long.
Fury sparked in her eyes, and she clenched the neck of her guitar, momentarily abandoning the song. The Velvet Rebellion of yesteryears, the band that had ignited stages and won hearts, couldn't be reduced to this—a spectacle of controversies and dwindling star power.
Returning her attention to her guitar Natasha sighed. The room's stillness hung heavy as she gently laid the guitar down on the floor. It felt like a futile effort, the muse remaining frustratingly out of reach, leaving her with an empty canvas and an aching desire to create.
Her gaze dropped to the small, black notebook, its pages filled with aborted attempts to capture the essence of their experiences and emotions in song. But today, those pages mocked her, an unforgiving reminder of the creative void that had taken its home within her.
Just as her frustration reached its peak, the bedroom door swung open with a soft creak, and in walked Wanda, a bowl of popcorn cradled in her hand. She plopped down on the bed beside Natasha, her eyes rolling in a knowing, teasing manner.
“How’s writing going?” Wanda asked, grabbing a handful of popcorn to plop into her mouth. 
Natasha let out a weary sigh, her notebook momentarily forgotten as she shared her woes with her best friend.
“You have no idea. It's like I've hit a wall, and I can't seem to find my way around it.” Natasha said. “How are we supposed to come up with another album with no songs? It’s been two years. We’re going to be known as one-hit wonders.”
“First off that’s a bit dramatic,” Wanda attempted to calm her down. “We made the hot rock and alternative songs billboard charts for our debut. I think the momentum is still there.”
Wanda cast a glance at the muted TV screen, where a news reporter was still busy dissecting Tony's latest escapade. She couldn't help but roll her eyes, mirroring Natasha's exasperation.
“And of course, our dear Tony adds another branch to the publicity tree. It's almost impressive how consistently he manages to get into trouble.” Wanda shook her head. 
After placing her bowl of popcorn on the dresser, Wanda decided to abandon her sitting position and instead flopped onto her belly, propped up on her elbows. She grabbed Natasha's small notebook, a curious glint in her eyes as she skimmed through the handwritten lyrics and scattered notes.
“You know, Nat, I think I see where you're stuck.” Wanda hummed to herself for a moment. 
Turning her attention to Wanda, Natasha felt her frustration momentarily ebb away, replaced by curiosity.
“Oh?” Natasha eyed her. “Please, share your wisdom.”
Wanda's eyes sparkled with an unexpected idea, and she pointed to a particular verse in the notebook. Her voice took on a sultry, poetic quality as she suggested a new lyric.
“How about this: "In the shadows of desire, we ignite the night."
Natasha's eyes widened in surprise as the words resonated deep within her. She quickly reached for her instrument and strummed the guitar, incorporating the new lyric into the melody, and in that instant, it all fell into place. A smile grew on her face, and she turned to Wanda.
“Wanda, that's brilliant! Thank you!” Natasha leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “I know why I keep you around.”
Wanda beamed in response. 
"Speaking of," she began, her voice casual yet laced with an underlying purpose, "we've got a gig this weekend. It's a birthday party for Harley Jameson, you know, the producer's daughter."
Natasha's response was swift and uncompromising, her will clear in her refusal. Her head shook slightly as she firmly voiced her decision, her thoughts already drifting toward the disturbing pattern of her bandmates taking liberties with decisions without consulting her, the lead.
"Absolutely not, Wanda," Natasha declared, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. “Aren’t we better than performing for snot-nosed brats?
Wanda, ever patient and understanding, propped herself up on her elbows. 
“Well, when that snot nose brat is paying us fifty thousand dollars plus a retainer,” Wanda shrugs. “And all the booze and food we want.” Her words were measured, spoken with the calm that came from knowing this conversation was inevitable." Nat, remember," she began, "you're the lead, not the boss. We haven’t been taking gigs because you've been declining. You know we need to keep the momentum going."
Natasha's jaw clenched in frustration. She leaned back, her gaze shifting to the ceiling as she contemplated her response.
"There's a reason, Wanda," Natasha explained, her voice tinged with concern. "Our brand has taken a beating lately with all the scandals we've had over the years. It’s not a good look being so new. I want us to lay low for a while, let the storm pass."
Wanda sighed, her eyes reflecting her understanding of Natasha's concerns. But she also recognized the band's need to keep going ahead despite the challenges.
"Nat," Wanda said, her voice gentle and reassuring, "I get it, I really do. But we'll be fine. Harley's party should be a breeze, and I promise we'll stay out of trouble. We'll stick to the music, no antics."
Natasha's hesitation lingered. Ultimately, the trust she had in Wanda, her lifelong friend and partner-in-crime, began to outweigh her reservations. She finally nodded, a reluctant but willing acceptance of the gig.
"Alright, alright," Natasha conceded. “We'll do it. But just this one, and we'll play it safe."
Wanda's eyes sparkled with a victorious smile, recognizing that she had won this battle for now. With that agreement, they returned to their songwriting. 
**************
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the manicured lawn of Harley Jameson's grand estate, Velvet Rebellion gathered on the makeshift stage. Around them, staff and party planners began to decorate the backyard. Their instruments glistened under the setting and stage lights. 
Natasha, her guitar slung securely across her shoulder, couldn't help but notice Tony, seated behind the drum kit, his sunglasses doing little to hide the lingering effects of his earlier indulgence. She approached him with a stern expression, a hint of frustration in her voice.
"Tony, you better get it together," She warned. "We're not messing this up tonight."
Tony, ever the charmer, brushed off her concerns with an easy smile and a wave of his hand.
"Nat, I promise, I'm fine. See?"
With that, he launched into a lively drum solo, his sticks dancing skillfully across the drumheads. The rhythm was tight, the sound electrifying. Natasha couldn't help but acknowledge his undeniable talent, even as she sighed in resignation.
"Great," she muttered to herself, "the sunglasses are his secret weapon now."
Standing beside Natasha, Steve placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. His quiet and calming presence was a balm to her nerves.
"It's alright, Natasha," He reassured her, his voice steady and comforting. "We'll get through this gig, just like our old days. Tony’s recovering but he seems fine."
Together they glance back to their bandmate who was more than likely inebriated. Tony chugged a bottle of water, before crushing it and dropping it down onto the floor beside him. 
Natasha's gaze softened as she looked at Steve, a small smile forming on her lips. “Yeah, he’s the epitome of fine.”
“Okay,” Steve pulled her gently to the side. “What’s the problem?” 
“Nothing,” Natasha shrugged. “I just can’t help but think that gigs like this are beneath us. I mean we went from performing at the MTV Video Music Awards to this? A sweet sixteen?”
Steve looked at her. He had been through thick and thin with Natasha and knew the depth of her concerns. 
“Natasha,” He replied. “I get your worries, but I promise this is a good thing for us. Todd Jameson is one of the biggest music producers in Hollywood right now. There will be a lot of executives here just to support his daughter. Think of what that could mean for us.”
“Fine,” Natasha nodded. “But if he fucks up I kick his ass.”
“Oh, you bet. Right after I’m done kicking it,” Steve joked causing Natasha to burst into laughter. 
Natasha steps back over to the mic. “Alright let’s take it from the top.” 
As Natasha prepared to lead the band into their rehearsal of the first song, the peacefulness of the backyard rehearsal space was abruptly disrupted by the arrival of Harley Jameson. She swept onto the scene with all the extravagance befitting a Hollywood princess, accompanied by a harried-looking party planner and another woman, who appeared to be a guest.
Harley, the embodiment of a spoiled heiress, immediately began issuing orders with a sense of entitlement that left the party planner flustered.
"No, no, no! These decorations are all wrong! Change them around! The mirror ball should be over here. And I want a live peacock by the pool. It's not too much to ask, is it?" Harley demanded impatiently.
The party planner, clearly overwhelmed, tried to keep up with Harley's demands. "Harley, we only have a few hours before the party starts. It's going to be challenging to make all these changes in such a short time."
Harley huffed, uninterested in the logistical challenges she was causing. "I don't care about that. Just get it done. My dad said I could have whatever I wanted."
Meanwhile, Harley's attention shifted to Velvet Rebellion, her face lighting up with enthusiasm.
"Oh, my God! I've been dying to meet you! I'm a huge fan!" she exclaimed with excitement. “I’m so happy I could get you here.”
She bounded over to the band, seemingly oblivious to the chaos she was creating, and introduced them to the party planner and you.
"This is Velvet Rebellion!" Harley introduced with enthusiasm. "Steve, the keyboardist, Tony on the drums, Bucky on the electric guitar, Wanda, the second lead singer and bass guitar, and Natasha, the incredible lead singer!"
You and the other woman exchanged glances, your expressions a mixture of frustration and amusement at the whirlwind that was Harley Jameson. You gave a small wave, opting to be in the background of this exchange. 
Wanda, ever the peacekeeper, managed to maintain her composure and put on a friendly smile despite Harley's overwhelming energy. She nodded graciously at Harley's enthusiasm.
"Oh, thank you so much, Harley!" Wanda replied with genuine warmth. "We're thrilled to meet you too. Your party looks like it's going to be incredible!"
Harley's energy showed no signs of waning as she delved into the details of the band's performance. When Wanda mentioned their planned first song, "Smoke and Mirrors," Harley immediately piped up with an alternative suggestion.
"No, no, no," Harley interrupted with fervor. "I want you to start with 'Ink and Whiskey.' It's my favorite!"
Natasha, who had been preparing to protest the sudden change to their setlist, hesitated as she saw Wanda's meek demeanor. However, it was clear that Harley's demand had disrupted their carefully planned sequence.
Natasha began to voice her concerns, but Harley's retort was swift and smart-mouthed. 
“We’ve already planned this out for-” Natasha began. 
“Oh, you can change it, can’t you? It’s just a silly setlist,” Harly questioned. 
Before Natasha could respond, you intervened with a calm yet authoritative tone.
"Harley, let's tone it down a bit," You advised, your demeanor oozing an air of authority that surprised Natasha. Harley listened, her earlier defiance giving way to a more composed demeanor.
“Sorry, I’m just excited,” Harley shrugged. 
Natasha found herself intrigued by your presence and the respect Harley seemed to show you.
"Alright," Natasha conceded with a smile, "since it's your birthday, we'll start with 'Ink and Whiskey.'"
Wanda offered a nod of agreement, and the tension in the air began to dissipate.
Harley, feeling triumphant, turned her attention to the party planner.
"Sarah, darling, let's make sure everything is perfect. I want it to be a night to remember!" Harley changed the subject, pulling you both back into a conversation with ease. 
Sarah, the party planner, nodded and tried to hide her relief that the brief crisis had passed. 
"Of course, Harley. Everything will be just as you want it."
Natasha watched the exchange between Harley and Sarah, her curiosity piqued more by you. 
“Who’s the chick?” Natasha pointed over to you with a tilt of her head. She got shrugs from Steve and Bucky. Tony was way too distracted to answer as he flirted with one of the staff. Wanda squinted to see if she could guess. 
“I don’t know,” Wanda said. “She looks vaguely familiar, but I’m guessing it’s not her mom.”
“Interesting,” Natasha mumbled to herself. She shook her head. There was no time for whatever the thumping in her heart was proving to be. She was here for the band and for the music. Also for the money, she couldn’t forget the money. 
As the preparations for the party continued, your cell phone suddenly rang, breaking the conversation flow. You excused yourself with a polite smile and stepped away from the group, heading toward a quieter corner of the backyard a few feet away.
Natasha couldn't help but overhear snippets of your conversation, the tone of your voice suggesting a heartfelt exchange, likely with a significant other. Natasha discreetly glanced in your direction, her curiosity getting the best of her.
Your voice held a gentle warmth as you spoke softly into your phone, your words filled with affection and longing.
 "I miss you too, sweetheart. Yeah, the party's getting started here in a couple of hours. It's not the same without you. Can't wait to see you soon." You smiled. 
Natasha couldn't hear the other end of the conversation, but the tenderness in your voice painted a clear picture of a loving connection between you and someone special.
Meanwhile, Harley, always the inquisitive host, began questioning Steve and Bucky about the band and its music.
"So, guys," Harley started, her interest genuine, "Have you ever thought about going solo? I am dying to know the secret."
Steve and Bucky, accustomed to answering these questions, engaged in a friendly chat with Harley, even if they also found her annoying. 
As Natasha discreetly observed you from the corner of her eye, she couldn't help but be captivated by your natural beauty. You were dressed in a simple white t-shirt and form-fitting jeans, a look that should have been unremarkable, but on you, it was utterly captivating.
The way your hair was styled, framing your face in soft waves, added to your appeal. Your skin had a radiant glow, and your features held an understated elegance that drew Natasha's attention. Despite the casual attire, you exuded a timeless charm that was impossible to ignore.
Natasha found herself admiring the effortless beauty that seemed to emanate from you and she wanted to know more. 
Just as Natasha started to pretend she wasn't eavesdropping, you turned around with a warm smile, catching her off guard. She quickly toyed with her microphone stand, feigning indifference.
You found her reaction amusing but were soon drawn back into your phone conversation. Natasha couldn't help but wonder about the person on the other end of that call and what had sparked such a genuine smile on your face. 
She toyed with the mic stand for as long as possible, physically forcing herself not to look your way. It’s a few more minutes before you returned to the group. You turned your attention to Harley and Sarah.
"Harley, don't forget, you have that hair appointment in an hour," You reminded her, glancing at your watch. "We need to make sure you're all set for your big night."
Harley, momentarily distracted by the band's presence, nodded in agreement.
"Oh, right! Thanks, y/n. I'll head out now," Harley replied with a grin. She turned to the band and offered her farewells. "Catch you all later!"
With that, Harley and Sarah departed, leaving Velvet Rebellion alone in the backyard.
As the group began to disperse, you took a moment to say goodbye to the band. 
“See you guys tonight,” You said. “I’m sure you’ll do great. If you need refreshments just ask one of the staff and they will be happy to help you with anything you need.” 
Natasha responded with a small smile and a nod, a subtle acknowledgment of the brief but pleasant interaction.
Once you, Harley, and Sarah were out of earshot, the rest of the band couldn't resist teasing Natasha. Wanda, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, chimed in.
"Uh oh, I know that look," Wanda teased, earning a knowing chuckle from the others. Natasha's momentary fascination with you hadn't gone unnoticed, and her bandmates were more than happy to playfully nudge her about it.
“There’s no look, I don’t have a look.” Natasha rolled her eyes. 
“Sure, you don’t,” Wanda grinned. “Any bets on how long until she gets her number?”
“I say within the hour,” Tony raised his hand pulling out a single, crinkled five-dollar bill from his back pocket. 
“Fifteen says they sleep together after the show,” Bucky shrugged. Steve is the only one to remain silent. 
“I don’t know,” Steve scratched the back of his neck. “I think I’ll save my thoughts for later. The girl barely said two words to any of us.”
“Thank you,” Natasha said. “Now, can we rehearse like a proper band?” 
She tried to erase your image from her head as she positioned herself in front of the microphone. 
From the top. 
*****************
The night was alive with energy as Velvet Rebellion took the stage, the crowd gathered around, eager to soak in every note of their music. Natasha oozed confidence and charisma, a star in every sense of the word. The opening chords of "Ink and Whiskey" filled the air, and the crowd erupted in cheers. This birthday party was a rager if she’d ever seen one. Natasha always considered rich people stiff and uptight. Going to plenty of parties once their debut kicked off their careers. Stiff drinks, weird pleasantries, and even more drugs. She was being proven wrong with this particular shindig. 
She moved to the edge of the stage, her presence magnetic. She sang with a passion that could be felt in every corner of the space, her voice carrying the weight of their lyrics. The audience couldn't help but be drawn into her performance, and they eagerly joined in, singing along and dancing to the beat.
Wanda, standing beside Natasha, bled a different kind of cool and calm. Her steady presence provided the perfect balance to Natasha's fiery performance. It was clear to anyone watching that their dynamic was the secret to their success.
Natasha lowered her head, giving Wanda the floor to sing her part of the chorus. Wanda’s hands moved steadily between the chords as she sang into the microphone. 
Ink and whiskey, the pages of our hearts,  
Tangled in the chapters where love starts,  
In the darkness, our secrets we confide,  
With every word written, our souls collide
Natasha steps forward, moving close enough to the microphone so that she and Wanda could harmonize the last verse. Her eyes travel from Wanda’s, smiling as they share in the energy and joy of being on stage before she maneuvers herself to face the crowd. 
In the night's embrace, our love's sweet refrain,  
Ink and whiskey, like a runaway train,  
Through the highs and lows, we'll find our way,  
With every word we write, love's here to stay
In the front row, Harley danced with her friends, reveling in the music and the excitement of the night. The atmosphere was electric, and the joy was contagious.
As Natasha sang, she scanned the crowd, her eyes landing on familiar faces among the sea of B-listers and music enthusiasts. But the one that stood out the most was you. Your eyes locked, and Natasha couldn't resist a playful wink, a silent acknowledgment of your earlier encounter.
You raised your glass in a silent toast and clapped enthusiastically when the song came to an end. You weren’t a huge fan of the music genre but you could see why Velvet Rebellion was such a rising star amongst new artists. Their stage presence was undeniable, the song was catchy and the beat was electrifying. It helped that Natasha was cute. All good things in your book. You can’t take your eyes off the stage as they move into their next song. It’s a bit disjointed considering Harley made them change the setlist around the last minute but it seems smooth either way. Natasha dances a bit for this one, her body movements fluid and effortless. Almost as if she’s had some training. 
You’re momentarily distracted when a distant family member comes to say hello. 
The show must go on as Natasha continues to sing her heart out. 
**********************
The final notes of their setlist rang out, and the crowd roared in appreciation. Velvet Rebellion had given their all, and now it was time for the DJ to take over and keep the party going.
Wanda had convinced Natasha to stay a while longer, promising that the night was still young and full of possibilities. Tony, ever the charmer, remarked with a grin, "I see a few MILFs in the crowd that I wouldn't mind mingling with." He slipped into the crowd with ease, chatting up the first single woman he saw. 
Natasha, however, remained all about business. She stood at the bar, surveying the party and keeping a watchful eye on her bandmates. The chaos and revelry around her seemed to blur into a colorful swirl of dancing bodies and laughter.
It was then that you approached her, catching Natasha's attention. Your presence was a welcome change of pace, and Natasha couldn't help but appreciate the genuine compliment she received.
"You guys were incredible," You said with a smile. "I'm impressed."
Natasha, always a woman of few words in such settings, offered a gracious nod of acknowledgment. 
You extended your hand with a warm smile as you introduced yourself, "I'm y/n. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Natasha shook your hand firmly and replied, "Natasha. Likewise."
You couldn't help but notice Natasha's reserved demeanor. Almost as if she felt too cool to be here. 
"I couldn't help but wonder," You began, your curiosity evident as you raised your voice above the music. "why aren't you out there dancing like the rest of your bandmates?"
Natasha offered a wry smile and shot back, "I could ask you the same thing."
“Touche,” You nodded. “I’m not much of a party girl.” You turn towards the bartender. “Do you want a drink? Eric here makes the best mojitos.”
“Sure, I’ll have a sex on the beach,” Natasha asked. 
“You heard the woman,” You jokingly said to Eric as he began to make your drinks. As you focused your attention on grabbing a few napkins, Natasha gave you a once-over. Your party dress was a delightful balance of simplicity and style. The knee-length and backless dress showcased a flattering silhouette, hugging your curves in all the right places. The deep, midnight-blue fabric was decorated with tiny, shimmering glitter that seemed to twinkle with each movement you made. Its sweetheart neckline and delicate spaghetti straps added a touch of femininity to the ensemble, while the mid-thigh slit allowed for easy movement as you moved. The overall effect was a cute yet elegant dress that perfectly suited the festive atmosphere of the party.
Natasha's observant eye caught the jewelry adorning your wrist. It was subtle but tasteful, hinting at a level of refinement that didn't go unnoticed. It was at least half of her salary for tonight’s show. This only interested her more. She needed to know who you were. She wanted to know the mystery behind you and your name. 
“Here you go,” You step back over to Natasha to hand her a drink. “I hope I’m not being too forward.”
“Not at all,” Natasha shrugged. 
"You know, if you're looking for a bit more quiet, we could step inside for a breather." You suggested, tilting your chin towards the house. 
Natasha considered the offer, realizing that a change of scenery might be a welcome respite from the party's chaos. With a small smile, she agreed, "That sounds like a good idea."
You led Natasha through the sea of people and inside the mansion to a nearby office where the music's relentless thump was muffled, and the atmosphere was quieter. It was a welcome change from the frenzied party outside.
As you settled into seats close to each other on the couch, drinks in hand, Natasha couldn't help herself and began to ask you questions. 
“Why did you ask me in here tonight?” Natasha asked. “Not that I’m complaining. I have been invited into much worse places.”  
“Thanks, I think,” You chuckled. You sensed Natasha's curiosity and offered a simple explanation, your eyes holding Natasha's in an unspoken connection."I enjoy meeting new people," you confessed, your voice soft but sincere. "And I've decided I wanted to talk with you."
You took a sip of your drink, your gaze thoughtful. "I also wanted to apologize for Harley's behavior earlier. She can be... spirited at times."
Natasha waved off the apology with a small smile, understanding that spirited was one way to describe Harley's antics.
You went on to explain, "Usually, I don't speak up like that, but my uncle has a way of spoiling Harley. It's... complicated."
Natasha's curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, "Your uncle? He’s Todd Jameson?"
You took a moment before revealing, "Yes. He and my dad are half-brothers. Making Harley my little cousin. I don’t admit it often."
The revelation left Natasha intrigued. She had heard the name Todd Jameson before, a figure of significance in the entertainment industry. The connection between you and Harley was now becoming clearer, and Natasha couldn't help but wonder about the family connection.
“That would make your dad…” Natasha began. 
“Nick Fury, the one and only,” You finished for her. “Different fathers. My dad is somewhere out there tonight. It’s a thing I don’t like to admit to strangers.”
“I get it,” Natasha nodded. 
The revelation about your family connection to Todd Jameson made Natasha pause for a moment. She had always admired the award-winning jazz player turned talent manager, Nick Fury, from afar. His contributions to the music industry were legendary, and Natasha couldn't deny that she was a fan of his music.
She decided not to fangirl, though, and instead offered a genuine smile. "Your dad is a legend. I've always been a fan of his music."
Your eyes lit up with appreciation. "Thank you, Natasha. I'll be sure to pass that along to him." You set your half-empty cup onto a coaster, before turning back to Natasha. “So, watching you on that stage. Not many people have that star power. I was wondering if you have experience dancing? You were incredible.” 
Natasha's eyes sparkled as she recalled her performance. "The way I danced on stage during our set, it's a part of who I am. I guess you could say it's a bit of my background showing through."
Your curiosity piqued, and you guessed, "Ballet, then?"
Natasha nodded. "Yes, I did ballet for sixteen years as a child. I even got into Juilliard."
Your eyes widened in admiration. "That's amazing, Natasha. How did you get into singing and music?"
Natasha took a sip of her drink and smiled as she delved into the story of how she got into music. It was a story that she didn't often share, but there was something about her conversation with you that made her feel comfortable opening up.
"It all started back in high school," Natasha began. "I was really into dancing, and it was an elective at my school. But then, one day, I decided to join the choir on a whim. And I fell in love with singing and songwriting. I grew up in a rough neighborhood. I needed something to keep me out of the house and off the streets."
She paused for a moment, reminiscing about those early days. "So, I started writing songs, and my friends Wanda and Steve would go over to Steve’s small bedroom. We'd play our rented instruments and experiment with different sounds. It was just a fun little hobby at first."
Natasha's gaze drifted, lost in the memories of those simple beginnings. "Then Bucky, Steve’s best friend well, he's always been a bit of a troublemaker, but he's got a talent for the electric guitar. And Tony...his dad's pretty wealthy and bought us all our equipment. Plus, he's good at the drums."
She chuckled, shaking her head. "It was a bit of a motley crew, but that's how Velvet Rebellion came to be. We started playing in small venues, dive bars, and country clubs. And somehow, we made it here."
Natasha's usually guarded demeanor had softened in your presence, and she found herself enjoying the opportunity to share a piece of her journey with someone who seemed genuinely interested in her story.
“I love that,” You nodded. You and Natasha share a smile before she asked. 
“Is your boyfriend here tonight? I don’t want to keep you too long,” She fished for more information. 
“No, no,” You shake your head. “No boyfriend. You?”
“Not really into monogamy at the moment,” She shrugged. She doesn’t know if this statement will bite her in the ass later but for some reason she trusted you. “Tell me about you. Are you in the family business or?”
"I've always had a bit of a connection to the music world," You began. "As a teenager, I sang a few backup vocals for artists my uncle produced. I guess you could say I almost pursued a career in music, but life had other plans for me. I got pregnant at seventeen. Dedicated to finish school and go to college."
You took a thoughtful swig of your drink and continued, "Now, I'm a publicist. I don't mean to brag, but I'm good at what I do.When I'm not working, I'm taking care of my daughter, Isabella. She's nine years old and the light of my life."
Your face softened as you spoke about your daughter, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and joy. "She's with her dad for the weekend," you added, "and we co-parent quite well."
Natasha was genuinely interested in your life outside of the party scene, and she couldn't resist asking, "Do you have any pictures of Isabella? I'd love to see her."
Your eyes twinkled with delight as you pulled out your phone and began to share a few adorable images of your daughter. Natasha couldn't help but smile as she admired the photos, enjoying this glimpse into your world beyond the music and the party.
“Here she is at gymnastics practice,” You flipped through a few pictures of Isabella’s smiling face. “And swim. She is a little spitfire and she wants to do it all.”
“Wow,” Natasha smiled as if Isabella were her own child. “Do you ever want more?”
“Maybe one day,” You said wistfully. “For now I feel pretty full with everything in life. You?” 
You noticed the change in Natasha's expression and asked, "Is something on your mind?"
Natasha sighed, leaning back into her seat. "I just don't know if I'm cut out for motherhood," she admitted. "I have a younger sister, Yelena, she’s attending the University of Cambridge in England now. She's even developed a bit of a British accent." Natasha couldn't help but chuckle at the thought.
"But," she continued, "I enjoy the fast-paced life, the music, the performances, and the constant movement. A significant other won’t quite understand that I don't always have the time. Not that I don’t ever want that someday but…” Her voice died down. 
You listened empathetically, understanding the complexities of Natasha's life as a musician. "I get that," you acknowledged. "But it's essential to find the right balance for you, whether it's in your music career, personal life, or something in between. My dad was able to do it. When he crossed over into hip-hop there was definitely a lot he missed but he still made things happen"
“Really? Well, I will have to ask him for pointers.” She grinned. 
Just as the conversation was reaching its peak, there came a polite knock at the office door. A member of the party staff popped in to inform you that they were ready to sing "Happy Birthday" to Harley.
You turned to Natasha with a warm smile. "It was nice meeting and talking to you, Natasha," you said genuinely.
Natasha, not wanting the connection to end, began, "You know, I'd love to..."
But before she could finish her sentence, your cheeks flushed, and you interrupted already knowing what she was going to say, your voice bold, "Are you going to call me, or are you going to leave me hanging in the wind?"
Natasha couldn't help but laugh at your sudden assertiveness. It was a pleasant surprise. "I’m not that type of woman," Natasha said. At your look, she laughed again. “You got me there.”
You returned her smile and handed Natasha your phone, saying, "You'll just have to trust me with your number instead, and I'll call." Asking for her number instead eased the pressure off Natasha, and also your nerves at hoping she’d call. 
You gave Natasha a wink and chucked a thumb over your shoulder to indicate you were going back to the party. Natasha nodded and watched you walk away. When her eyes trailed lower she doesn’t even feel guilty about it. 
Natasha left the office, rejoining her bandmates outside in the backyard, just as they were preparing to sing "Happy Birthday" to Harley. The festive atmosphere was in full swing, and the energy of the party was infectious.
As the crowd gathered around Harley, Natasha's eyes scanned the faces, and they landed on you, who was standing among the partygoers. Your eyes met, and you shared a knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment of the connection you had developed.
Tony, always quick to pick up on things, couldn't help but tease Natasha when he noticed her grin. "So, did you get her number?"
Natasha rolled her eyes at Tony's assumption but then burst into laughter. "No," she replied with a playful smirk, "she took mine."
The party was still in full swing when someone on stage stopped the music with a loud, "Hey, everyone! Can I have your attention, please?"
The spotlight shifted to the stage, and all eyes turned toward the source of the interruption. It was a friend of Harley's, and he had a mischievous grin on his face as he spoke into the microphone.
"I have a special surprise for our birthday girl tonight," he announced. "We have someone here who's agreed to sing 'Happy Birthday' to Harley, and I think you're all in for a treat."
A collective cheer and applause erupted from the crowd as they eagerly anticipated the surprise. The spotlight moved to you, highlighting your face and putting you on the spot. You managed to not look like a deer in headlights which was a feat in itself. Natasha's curiosity was piqued, especially considering you had mentioned you weren’t much of a singer.
You tried to protest shyly, but the crowd begged you to come up on stage. Encouraged by their cheers, you reluctantly made your way up to the spotlight.
Once on stage, you cleared your throat and took a deep breath, your nerves palpable. You began with a little birthday speech, your voice tinged with affection and humor.
"I want to wish a happy birthday to my cousin Harley," You began, your smile directed at the birthday girl. "Even though she's a bit of a brat," you teased, earning laughs from the crowd, "she's my brat, and I wouldn't have it any other way."
Then, as expected, you began to sing "Happy Birthday." Your voice, which you had modestly downplayed earlier, was nothing short of remarkable. It was soulful, sweet, and filled with a depth of emotion that resonated through the entire backyard.
The crowd, including Natasha, was utterly blown away by the unexpected talent that you possessed. Your voice filled the air, making the birthday celebration even more special and memorable. It was a moment of pure magic, and Natasha couldn't help but be captivated by your incredible singing ability.
Natasha decided two things then and there. One, she really liked you, and two, boy, was she in for a ride.
---> next part
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icycoldninja · 5 months
Note
May I please request headcanons for the Sparda boys + V finding out that their girlfriend has a very high sex drive but she tries to hide it due to being shamed in the past?
Sure, sure! Here ya go and enjoy!
Sparda boys + V x Fem!Reader with high sex drive headcannons
¤ Dante ¤
-When Dante learned you had a high drive, he was thrilled.
-He didn't give two shits whether or not people had bullied or shamed you for it in the past--you were here with him now, and he was gonna treat you right.
-Now, any normal person would be tired out after a single round with Dante, but not you!
-You're a real baddie, able to last for hours on end. And if his human form ain't enough to satisfy you, then there's always his Devil Trigger, or maybe even his Sin Devil Trigger, if that doesn't do the trick.
-When demon mating season comes along, he'll be glad you're around for...umm...purposes.
■ Vergil ■
-Vergil has never been bothered by mortal things such as "sex drive", so upon learning you have a high one, he remains indifferent.
-HOWEVER, demon mating season is a different story, as during this time, all demons and half demons will want to...well...breed. Naturally, these lustful creatures will want someone who can keep up with them.
-Vergil's glad you have such a high drive because it means he doesn't have to hold back. He can go as hard and fast as he wants, without worry of hurting you.
-He can even Trigger, something he rarely does during sex, and literally go all out.
-Watch out, girl, Vergil might actually wear you out for once.
□ Nero □
-Nero was really excited when he heard of how high your sex drive was.
-He couldn't believe people had actually shamed you for it--wasn't being good in bed a good thing?!
-Nero then decided to take it upon himself to push your body past its limits, with the help of his prosthetic arm, of course.
-He'll utilize it like a vibrator; the double stimulation will drive you crazy in a matter of minutes, leading to complete exhaustion after a just few hours.
-Nero might not undergo mating season, but there is a seasonal period where he'll be extra horny and needs you for satisfaction. (thank 1/4 demon genetics for that)
● V ●
-V isn't really familiar with what sex drive is, or why you have a high one, but after some research, deems it to be "interesting".
-He showers you with praise to alleviate any lingering negativity brought on by your past, and if he wasn't so physically weak, he swears he would ravage you for hours.
-Instead, however, he will torture you for hours using his dexterous fingers and tongue, bringing you continuous, shuddering orgasms for hours and hours.
-Since V is not a demon, he doesn't undergo any mating periods or gets seasonal lust, but is ready to please when you get horny.
-Just...don't be too rough with him--he has his limits.
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study-diaries · 6 months
Text
Math Tips
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(Pictures are not mine)
Well, let me tell you, we all have this love-hate relationship with this subject, right? The worst part is that when you don't know what the heck is going on, so, as a girl who studied maths (2 Volumes/textbooks) on her own during the year she was homeschooled, here are some tips and tricks that I did to get an A+ in my math finals!
Get your syllabus together
In the beginning I had no damn idea what was going on and it was just confusing. I had to do the first thing I did was taken my index/table of contents and mark the chapters which i knew very well and the ones I had no clue about. And then i arranged them with the marking scheme, like which one carries the most marks etc etc and study accordingly.
Complete lessons/chapters that you already know
When you finish off the things you already know then that's gonna give you the confidence you need even if you know only 1-2 chapters, learn it throughout and make sure that you'll get the answer no matter how twisted the sum is. If you're doubtful about the whole textbook like any normal person.... Start with the easy ones. (I know there are literally really no "easy" chapters, spare me)
Harder chapters need hard work
Most chapters like Trigonometry proofs, Geometry proofs, Algebra, Graphs, Mensuration and Calculus etc need more than minimum effort but here's a trick, what is the common thing in this? Yes, they're all formulae and theorem based which goes to my next point. These chapters are completely based on how much you've understood your basics.
Formulae and theorem cheatsheets
Make a list of all formulae and the theorem used in the book, write them chapter wise and no printouts or digital notes. Take a paper and write it down, no excuses. It helps you while you're practicing, revising and in the last minute review, it helped me damn much. Remember, maths is a sport. The basic formulae must come to you like reflexes.
YouTube is your best friend.
For every single chapter, go and watch the basics and how a sum is done step by step. A recommendation for this is Organic Chemistry Tutor who literally is one of the reasons i passed. He has videos from basic geometry, trigonometry, statistics to calculus. Search for your own YouTubers and be clear with concepts.
Math is fully memorization
Memorize formulae and theorems with the back of your hand, you should be able to recall them within seconds. Be thorough.
Memorize basic math values (if calculator isn't allowed)
Do this if you have a majority of chapters like Statistics, Mensuration, Profit/loss calculation etc, where large numbers are concerned. Memorize the first 10 square, cube, decimal and multiplication values. It may be dry but there are literally songs available for these things, I'm serious, i learnt the first 10 cube roots by listening to Senorita xD Search for rhymes and they'll definitely be many!!
Work it out!!!!!!
Can't stress this enough, atleast 30-40 mins is the minimum for maths. I'm serious, work out each sum, don't ever think it's a waste, you'll see the results. Practice makes perfect. Work out every single sum, from examples to exercise ones cause let's be honest, our examiners love to take problems from every nook and cranny of the book.
Whiteboard method
So, I made this up and it actually works, if you have a whiteboard or anything else, once you completed a chapter, take a random page and whatever sums you have on those two pages, you need to complete within a given time limit. It helps you to identify your weak points and where the hell you're losing both time and effort and not to mention that it gives you confidence boost up.
Hope this helps :))
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iamjellyfish · 2 months
Note
can you have one where Soshiro (😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍💕💕💕💕💕❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️) and Y/N are child hood friends and are both defense officers, Y/N is super kind, polite, and cheerful, almost always smiling and teasing and making jokes (specifically with Soshiro, they're besties) nothing could ever be wrong with her, she has a smile as bright as the sun!... Right?
Soshiro, would always just find Y/N in the forest or Y/N would sneak into his house, and train with him (even though they was weak and lacked the proper nutrients to even carry twenty pounds) they would still try, Soshiro forced her to eat all the time, sneaking food out for her, he never questioned her though, and when he did Y/N just avoided the question , joked about something and put a grin on their face. Soshiro often asked if they ok, because she's unfed most the time. He knew they went some hard things but .... not to the extent of what she's been through... I mean losing everyone you care hurts. at the ripe age of 4 she witnessed the death of her family, gaining multiple scars from the incident . She still hates herself more than that kaiju though... Why? ... Despite has still Y/N never cried or showed and signs of anger in front of anyone... until now, Soshiro finds Y/N sobbing quietly, letting all her hatred, sadness ,anger , heart break, finally let out ... Soshiro OBVIOUSLY comforts her because he's the best (boy)friend ever!
sorry for making it so long, and if the request isn't anything you like to write!
❥ A/n: Oooo, I like the lore; I had been thinking that the reader could join the defense force for a smart plan or tricks similar to Kafka (supporting others).
Oh yea I changed the timeline for events in reader's past a bit:p
❥Warning: potentially broken grammar, angst/comfort, mention of death, self-destruct behaviors from reader, ... not proofread, I write this half-awake.
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You and Soshiro were best friends from childhood. It's probably because you're the type to get curious and sneak into his house one day and be amazed by Soshiro's fighting style. Soshiro, back then, was a bit discouraged because the era of swords had long gone, and reaching to be a defense force officer seemed unrealistic, yet seeing you amazed when he was training and offered to train with him and share about how much you like katana because "they're just so cool" make him happy.
You were his ball of sunshine, even if you don't realize it; your cheerful voice, your smiles, and your kind gestures here and there make him so in love with you. And the best thing is, you were always joking and teasing him, it made him feel at home as long as you were there.
"Soshi should be careful, I might charm you too much that you might forget to train and be my husband!"
You, at the age of 8, are teasing him, yet he grins back and holds out his bamboo katana. He is still training yet he always stops a little to talk with you every few minutes while you watch.
"Why can't I do both? I clearly can make time for both marrying you and training."
He stops a little to pinch your cheek. And when he sees you blush, he laughs a little yet when got older and thinks back, it's quite true, he could definitely do both, marrying you and sharpening his katana techniques!
You were a free soul; you were polite to adults, yes, but still, you're someone who doesn't follow the rules a lot. You love the forest and would spend time enjoying nature, hearing the wind or the nearby river that had many cool rocks and flowers nearby. You would always bring some cool rocks or flowers that remind you of him when you go on this little adventure in the forest. Soshiro always cherishes your gifts even though he didn't show it too much.
But when you turn 12, something is always odd about you, at least after you went missing a few weeks ago and returned like nothing had happened, you refused to talk about it, so he can't really press you about it. You look like you lack the needed nutrients, always so skinny and weak, you look like you would fly away if the wind is a bit too strong. He doesn't mind, though; he got used to sneaking food out for you, and seeing you enjoy eating what he made makes him really happy.
After years of being best friends and feeding you throughout your teenage years, you both fell in love with each other. You both confess at the same time before you both get into the defense force. You love him deeply, and no doubt he is head over heels for you.
He knows you love him yet something about you is distance. To put it into words, Hoshina feels like you are hiding something from him but he can't really tell. You always smile, of course, he loves your smiles! But he feels like there is a deeper matter to this, so he tracks to the old times and investigates a little; you won't mind that, right? It's just that you won't answer his questions and always try to change the subject, so he gets a little worry.
Hoshina always knew you went through something when you were a kid, but you never told him; just bundle it all into your little heart. So when he investigated, he found out that the day you go missing for a week was the time that your parent was brutally murdered by kaiju. He had some theory but it was best to ask you.
So when you both get the day off, Hoshina and you get home, and he prepares your favorite food while you prepare his favorite snacks and coffee. He wanted to start the conversation softly to not trigger you so he started with a little small talk.
"Y/n, did you eat properly these days?"
He said softly, looking into your e/c eyes while waiting for your answer; his hands were playing with the food a little. You just shrug and try to answer it to get over with.
"I guess."
"I know what happened that day that you go missing. You were hiding, didn't you? Your parent got murdered by kaiju, and you were hiding, and it took a few days to find you"
He reaches his hand out to comfort you while you just sit there frozen. The memories that you bury deep under the rubble of your feelings that day. You want to run away, to hide, but it's Hoshina, your dear Hoshina.
"Please don't, let's stop this topic."
You said, sadness bleeds in those words of yours; you hated it, hated yourself for the simple fact that you were helpless that day. You were mad at the kaiju, yes, but the guilt of surviving the life that was traded for your parents' lives made you sick to the stomach. You were hard on yourself, trying harder and harder to achieve higher things to avenge your parent; that way, you could say your parent traded their lives for something worthy.
Hoshina knew this; at least, he knew right now when he saw the dark cloud on your head. He rushes over to hug you while you start crying, confronting your own guilt. He gently pats your back and gives you little kisses quite he comforts you.
"It's okay alright? I know ya try your best but it's time to start letting go of the past. It's hard, but I'm here to support you. Now, you can pour your heart out to me."
"I don't want to dump it all on you..."
You mutter, you bury your head in his shoulders. You subconsciously hug him tight as he comforts you. He looks at you with scarlet eyes and smiles lightly.
"You're my everything. It's okay. Just tell me, I'm ready to carry the guilt you have in your heart."
Just like that, you cry like a kid pouring everything that keeps your chest heavy throughout the years to him quite Hoshina just comforts you with hugs and kisses, listening to everything you have to say.
A/n: I'm going to sleep.
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lactoseintolerentswag · 3 months
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when they've got interpreting spiderman noir under a specific cultural lens at the function [picture of me going insane]
I cant help myself.. what can i say. And since you've mentioned some research going on behind the scenes.. do you have any fun interpretations? Or even anything fun about the 1800s!
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OH HI
Hm. I don't have anything as fun as historical dancing, but I suppose this does give me the excuse (thabk u) to blab about Noir's childishness.
(wow putting this under the cut bc it got longer than I thought it would LMAO)
I think what a lot of people (including Noir's contemporary writers and yes even the spiderverse interpretation) fall for when trying to read Noir's character is the imitation of his idea of what an adult is, that he hides behind. Like Noir's persona is incredibly exaggerated. He's playing pretend. Look here, he's practicing.
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A lot of his persona as Noir is imitation! Imitation of his uncle, of Urich, of the violence he's been exposed to. He's running around in his uncle's old uniform. Fundamentally misunderstanding WHY his uncle had been ashamed of it and his role in the war.
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And then he goes ahead and steals Urich's alias because it sounds Cool (which is such a teenage thing to do jesus christ).
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But like that imitation of The Adult isn't something that's limited to that exaggerated persona that Noir encapsulates. Peter himself is trying So Hard to be grown up and tough and responsible that it loops back around to him being a brat who would try the three guys in a trench coat trick. He even gets beat up for it when trying to defend his aunt. And I mean I've posted about him being a brat.
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About how he looks at Urich as a Prime Example of what a strong and knowledgeable adult is (which is part of why he reacts so volatile in response to Urich showing he's not exactly as morally righteous as himself, he's wounded and let down). Whiskey? Whiskey sounds like someone Mature and Cool would drink, I'll have it too. And then proceeds to throw his drink at Osborn and laugh about it. The illusion was broken for me then.
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But well it's not broken for everyone. I mean like obviously I poked at the contemporary writers, but I'm more talking about the other characters in the narrative. Mainly Urich and Felicia.
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Urich taking Peter under his wing isn't entirely under the motivation to nurture Peter. I think it Becomes that, but he's really envious of that kid. He wants to see him lose that hope that he once had (ruh roh the opposite thing happened, being around the kid made YOU more hopeful Ben. Guess you gotta be good. Hope you don't die now).
Urich really is exposing him to an extremely harsh reality, and taking him places where adults are typically only allowed. He's letting Peter get a glimpse into what it's like, which will eventually enable Noir's tool of violence. All these tests will accumulate into what Peter thinks someone powerful and strong can be and do.
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Then his problematic relationship with Felicia (writers I'm malleting you for this). He's clinging to her adulthood and the safety she represents, and he's young but she sees some adult strength in him. I mean she trusts him with the blackmail Urich gave her, which she really. Shouldn't, even if that's what Urich wanted.
Anyway, strength is something she's been consistently drawn to her in her partners. Strength to feel as her own. Even if it's to hers and others' detriment. There's also a part of Peter that's drawn to Felicia because Urich was. He's still honing in the good parts of Urich he wants to be.
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I think the one person in the narrative who doesn't fall for it? Is Aunt May. You could argue it's just her being naturally motherly, but for someone who was about to be eaten alive she's pretty frank with Noir. I think she can see that that violence and exaggerated grittiness comes from someone inexperienced and young. Even if she can't consciously recognize the similarities between Noir's persona and Peter's protectiveness of her. I don't think she wants to see that. I actually have a short comic script about that, but it probably will never see the light of day.
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Ugh he's like a cat puffing up to scare away a predator. It's fake!!!!! It's all fake!!!!!! He gets intimidated by JJ, he never ties his shoes, gets powers and then immediately guns to beat the shit out of Osborn, sings about the sandman when he's getting his face bashed in, crawls to Felicia all pathetic and sad, and he made a costume to run over roofs at night in.
And it's funny how he's forcing himself to grow up, but also really sad because all the things he's being exposed to is already forcing him to grow up. He's witnessing things no kid should ever see or experience.
Then there's the time period to consider. The aftermath of WWI, being in the midst of the Great Depression, and WWII just around the corner. He's faced incredible hardship and is going to continue to face so much hardship, and he's going to mature faster than he ever should have. It should have made him crash and burn Hard when he became an adult, and to me he still does because I'm ignoring everyone after ewaof LMAO.
As for my research on the 1800s NY that's for my own spider iteration run I'm working on, so not too related to Noir until I reach the 30's :3
Hope that was satisfying!!
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twignotstick · 7 months
Text
Broken Brothers (and How to Fix Them)
Part 3 💜 | Part 1 <- 🧡 | Part 2 <- 💙
Note: This story is based on @cupcakeslushie 's Empyrean Weeping au. These characters are not my own, and this story is in no way canon to the main story. I wrote this as my love letter to the story and the characters. Especially April :)
Tags: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, ROTTMNT, Donnie & April, April & the Turtles, NOT MY CHARACTERS, Empyrean Weeping AU, recovery (hehehehehe), talking it out because we're adults, skating, social avoidance? idk how to tag that
Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): yelling, some violent actions
Words: 2,065
Summary: April was able to figure out her first brother easily. Now, she gets three more, with a couple more issues to worry about.
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One brother was already a lot. He was sweet, if a little violent. April was content with one brother.
Then she found out he had two more. Lost in their youth, taken away, never to be seen again. Suddenly, one wasn't enough. April wanted three brothers.
So she got them. One by one, she welcomed her new brothers into their home. She helped them feel safe and welcomed. And, in turn, they helped her learn her place as a big sister.
Now, four? Four whole brothers? That was pushing it.
Donnie was a wild card. Some days, he'd bounce around madly, blabbering about whatever “improvements” he'd made in the lair (always putting Splinter on edge, yet he could never find any problems with whatever Donnie did, probably because his brothers did damage control before he could catch it). Other days, he'd literally hiss at April until she left. Not just left the lair; left the sewers.
This day was supposed to be one of those days. Donnie was visibly shaking with all the pent up energy in him. The brothers had apparently had an “intervention” with Donnie after the previous night, when he had almost broken a major support beam in the lair just so he could collapse it on April. Now, he wasn't allowed to show violence to April in any form for a whole week. In exchange, he'd be allowed to take a single blood sample from each of his brothers, which was the weirdest trade April had ever heard. But Donnie really wanted it.
And boy, was it hard for him.
“Did you see that?! Did you see? I totally landed that one!” Mikey yelped, shaking on his skateboard.
“Good job, big man.” Raph stepped up beside him, lightly touching Mikey's shoulder and making his eyes widen as he tried to maintain his balance.
Mikey had been wanting to practice his skate tricks, and Raph wanted to make sure he did it in a safe environment. The skate ramp in the lair was perfect. Even if they were just practicing kickflips at the bottom, it was safe and contributed to good vibes.
While Raph and Mikey stood at the bottom, April, Leo, and Donnie sat at the top with their legs dangling beneath them. Well, April and Leo's legs were dangling. Donnie was perched up like a frog, knees thrown out to the sides and his hands curled on the edge of the ramp. Leo, of course, was between him and his self proclaimed mortal enemy, absorbing as much murderous intent as he could. It was a lot, to put it nicely.
“Do you think he'll ever actually get to use the ramp?” Leo asked, enjoying the spectacle of his youngest brother getting properly babied by his oldest.
“Four is definitely tough enough to survive a fall from this height,” Donnie responded cheerily. “His shell is the best of all of us. A human, on the other hand, would likely get severely injured if they were to be shoved off the edge.” His face grew the slightest grin at the imaginary violence.
“Watch the language.” Leo raised a brow to Donnie. “And it's Mikey, remember? Not Four.”
“R-right!” Donnie stammered, patting his hands on the side of the ramp. “Four is Mikey.”
“No, Mikey is Mikey. His name isn't Four, and it never was. Just like my name isn't Two, Raph's name isn't One, and your name isn't Three. You're our brother. Donatello.”
Leo was getting slightly agitated, and Donnie- or maybe Three- was starting to fidget and rock back and forth. It was clear that Leo wanted Donnie to just give up all this number talk and act like their childhoods hadn't happened. But that was just an impossible task. April could tell that this situation would be quick to spiral.
“Hey, uh, Leo?” April asked, getting his attention.
“Yes?”
“Betcha can't do an ollie.”
Leo turned fully to face April. “A what?”
“I-it's a skateboard trick…” Donnie said, causing Leo's attention to whip around again. “F- Mikey showed me a couple days ago.”
“Oh.” Leo's brow ridges tightened as he whipped back to face April. “You think I can't pull some stupid skate trick? You are so on.” Leo slid down the ramp, using his carapace like a sled. “Mikey! Give me your board!”
Donnie watched him slide down with wide eyes. “Has he… ever skated before?” He asked, mildly concerned.
“Nope. Never even touched a board.” April smirked. “He's gonna be stuck down there for at least an hour.” She looked over at Donnie, who was gazing down at his brothers with a lost glaze over his eyes.
“You wanna go join them, Donnie?”
The softshell's neck popped as he snapped to glare at April. The murderous intent that had been building suddenly channeled into his face, and he growled before standing up and stomping away swiftly toward his recently decorated room.
April glanced down at the three brothers having fun, then pushed herself up to follow the one who wasn't.
“Wait, Donnie! What's wrong? I-”
“Stop.” The turtle hissed, not turning around to face her.
“Stop? Donnie, what did I-”
“I SAID STOP IT! STOP CALLING ME THAT!” He pressed the heels of his hands into the sides of his head.
“What do you mean? Just tell me what's-”
The turtle turned on his heel in the doorframe. “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! I don't know how to put it in a way your STUPID HUMAN BRAIN WILL UNDERSTAND!” His face morphed into a manic grin. “Goodbye! So long! Sayonara! Toodaloo! GET OUT OF MY FACE!”
The door slammed shut, and April was left breathless.
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April came back the next day to a much quieter lair. The boys were keeping space from each other, whether consciously or not. Raph was wandering around, trying to act like everything was okay. Leo was training in the dojo. Mikey was spending more time around Splinter than he usually did.
The final brother was still locked in his room.
April decided to join Mikey to bring him his second meal of the day. The first one, a small plate of rice, was still outside the door, now cold and dry.
Mikey knocked lightly, barely tapping the door with his knuckles. “Donnie?” He whispered. “I've got more food for you. It's your favorite- flavorless mush! I tested it myself, no taste at all. I promise!”
The offer was met with silence.
Mikey sighed and let his shoulders slump, backing away from the door. “I just don't get it,” he muttered pathetically. “He hasn't even come out to pee, April. Do you think he's just peeing in a cup? Or a corner? Does Donnie have a pee corner that we don't know about?”
“Mikey, it's okay.” April grabbed his shoulder. “First of all, yes, he probably does, and that just means we get to bond over cleaning his room when this is over. Second, you shouldn't have to worry about this.”
“I'm so sorry, April.” Mikey looked down to his feet. “I don't know why he hates you so much. Maybe if we hadn't-”
“Don't apologize,” April interrupted. “If anyone needs to apologize, it's me.”
Mikey looked back up at his big sister with wide eyes. “Why?”
She sighed. “Because I did something wrong.” April took the food from Mikey's hands. “I'll get him to eat. I'll text you if things go super wrong, but otherwise, ignore any loud noises. I have a feeling this might get… violent.”
Mikey puffed his chest. “Roger, roger!” He saluted and rushed down the hall, supposedly to find Raph and warn him of April's plan before he could start panicking.
April stood next to the door. “Hey, bud,” she started. “It's April. I've got your food, and I'm not gonna leave until you let me in to give it to you.”
After about two minutes of just standing there and getting no response, April sat down. She would say something every few minutes, just to remind him she was still there.
48 minutes later, the lock clicked.
April opened the door slowly. Glancing around the room, she could see the state of disarray it was in. Clothes carpeted the floor, as well as abandoned scrap projects. The turtle was cloaked beneath blankets on his bed, only his bright eyes glaring out at the invader.
She left the door open and stood to the side, getting just close enough. She didn't want him to feel threatened or trapped. She placed the (well cold by now) food next to the growling blanket pile and backed away. Waiting a second, just until he proved he would actually start eating, she spoke.
“Why don't you want me to call you Donnie?”
The pile shifted. “You just… you just can't.”
“Why not?”
“...because Splinter gave me that name. It's my name as his son. As Raph, Leo, and Mikey's brother. Not yours.”
April was about to pose a question, but the softshell suddenly sat up and started showing his anger. In the action, he also revealed the red marks growing on his arms from squeezing them.
“Because I don't care how much time you spend around us. I don't care how much One likes you, or how much Four draws you, or how much stupid stuff you watch with Two! You aren't related to me. It's scientifically impossible. We don't share any genetic material. You aren't my brother!”
With frazzled eyes, he turned and grabbed April's collar, bringing the two face to face.
“And you are most definitely not my sister.”
He shoved April away and sulked back in his den. The girl decided to take the violent outburst as an invitation to get closer, and sat on the edge of the bed.
“...that's okay.”
She only got a sniff in response.
“I don't need to be your sister. Or your brother. All I want is to be your friend. And if that means I call you something else, that's okay. Just tell me what you want me to call you, and I'll do it. Maybe I can call you Purple like Splints has been. Or I'll call you Three, if you really want me to.”
The turtle, Donnie to some, showed his face, keeping the blankets wrapped around his shoulders. His fingers were digging into his upper arms.
“And I know you might not like me, but I'm not going anywhere. Your brothers like me, and they'll be upset if I go away.” When she saw the softshell's grip tighten, she quickly added, “And I know that if they had to choose, they'd pick you. But they don't have to. They don't want to.”
The turtle stared aimlessly in front of him. “...I don't… I…”
“I can just not call you anything if you can't decide. Y'know, just call you ‘dude’ and stuff.”
His shoulders lifted higher, touching the sides of his chin. “That… that works…”
April smiled wide. “Great.”
The two sat there, just accepting each other's company. Donnie's tight posture slowly loosened, and April focused on making sure his breathing was even.
This poor boy had never known true family. He had never known learning to trust people and taking them in. He had never been taken in. This concept, choosing family, was so foreign. Because to him, family wasn't something you could choose.
April would never allow that. Never again.
“...sooo, do you have a pee corner?”
“What?!”
April held her hands up defensively. “Mikey said you haven't come out to pee! I just wanted to know if you had a pee corner!”
“No?! Why would you automatically assume I have a pee corner?”
“Because you haven't come out of your room to pee! What, do you have a pee cup instead?!”
“No!”
“Then what have you been doing?!”
Donnie pointed to a spot in the room, and April looked over to see a very D.I.Y. toilet, made of scrap metal welded together. (She could recall that Donnie's welding materials had been taken from him weeks ago.) “I hooked it up to go straight into the tunnels,” Donnie boasted proudly. “I even dug the holes myself! Digged? Dug.”
“...yeeeah, we're getting rid of that,” April grimaced.
“WHAT?! WHY?!”
“YOU KNOW VERY WELL WHY.”
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[In time, Donnie would let April call him by his name. And, in time, he would learn that his name was his, and his alone.]
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And that's it! Totally! April has started on her long journey to fixing all of her broken brothers! She has NO OTHER BROTHERS THAT HAVE ISSUES, why would you ever think that 🟥🐢
This part gave me quite a few problems. Knowing that the "Maps" comic is probably going to explore April and Donnie's relationship, I was a little scared about making assumptions. Also, you don't realize how difficult it is to write someone who isn't all there until you're actually trying to do it. Eventually I just said "screw it, if he's out of character, its fine". So now we're here :)
ALso, no one tells you how motivating and powerful the high you get when someone you look up to praises your work is, I thought this would take me WAY LONGER to finish 🤡
aanyway, congrats to all the tmnt au comp winners, again. Can't wait to see who moves on from here :D
Part 4 -> ❤️
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harrystylesfan2686 · 8 months
Text
Thirst For Blood
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader.
Summary: What happens when you finally escape one prison, only to be locked in another for merely surviving...
Warnings: Mentions of slavery and torture (nothing descriptive). Blood (ig)
A/N: This is probably my longest writing yet. I'm so proud of myself for this one. I tried writing in 2nd POV after the results of survey done by @leafsandstarlight so i apologise in advance if the povs change suddenly mid sentence. I did my best to edit out the mistakes but if there are some left still, do tell me and I'll correct them right away. I love this one and I hope you do too. 🫶💕
Masterlist
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The soft cracks of fallen twigs fills the silence spread across the forest. The wounds on your bare feet had finally stopped flowing blood. It didn't really mattered though, considering you were covered with it.
The streaks of dried blood coming out of your mouth lined all the way down to your chest, soaking through the torn material. The dress shirt and pants you had stolen from your very first kill had been ruined, having constantly walked for weeks. Covered with dirt and blood that now appeared dark brown.
You didn't know where you were going, only that you had to keep walking, running away as far as you can from the place you left behind.
You saw something move behind you and froze. You turned and held your breath, looking around, hoping for an animal or something to jump up and attack you. After what felt like ages but was probably a minute, your shoulders sag in relief when you didn't see anything unusual.
You turned to continue down your path but gasped when you saw a male right in front of you. Tan skin with black short hair atop his head, adorned in leather and blue stones. Not normal stones, you realized, Siphones.
You hadn't even had a chance to think about what to do now, before he twists his wrist at your direction and a black shadow comes out in a blur, hitting you on your forehead hard enough for the world to turn into darkness in you eyes and you fall unconscious.
-☆-
Azriel paced around the dark room, frowning at the females body asleep on the floor in front of him. The shackles around her hands and legs were bound to prevent her from running or pulling any tricks when she wakes up. It's been hours since he brought her here and imprisoned her, he realized. And she still hasn't woken up.
He has been trying to catch her for a long time, longer than what it normally takes him to find his targets. The creature that's been killing fae left and right. Draining every drop of blood from her victims and leaving the bodies for everyone to find.
She's been moving from one Court to another without leaving any trace of who or what she is. Never letting anyone predict her next move. It has thrown every Court into a spiral, not know what kind of creature has been killing their people everyday.
Azriel has been searching for the monster–her for a while. It took him a lot more time then it should. Always coming up blank while predicting what she was and what it's–hers next move would be. He was starting to question his position as the Spymaster, starting to feel ashamed every time he couldn't give Rhys the information he needed even though Rhys assured him multiple times that it's alright.
But now he knows.
He finally has the answer to all his questions. Finally found the only thing that kept him awake long into the nights, wondering why he couldn't perform his best this time. He felt as if he could finally breath freely again, without feeling abashed.
But as he watched her for hours, waiting for her to wake and using that time to observe her. How peaceful she looked and her calm features and clothes made him question himself, again. He's started to feel agitated. Maybe he made a mistake. Maybe she isn't the one he was after, all this time. But the one thing that stopped him from releasing her was the dried blood on her body. It seemed almost black from the darkness of the dungeons.
The wind in the room moved when a dark cloud formed and Rhysand stepped out. The energy in the room calmed to an eeire silence before he looked at Azriel and raised an eyebrow,"Still not awake?".
The shadowsinger shaked his head and sighed,"I don't know what's wrong. I didn't hit her with much force, just enough to make her faint for a few hours."
Rhys hummed and moved towards her sleeping form, staring at her for a few minutes before crouching down, raising a hand and placing it down on her head.
-☆-
You woke up with a startle and let out a small yelp at the sight of a male touching you. You scrambled back going as far as you can before your back hits a wall, breathing loud and fast while switching your gaze between the two male in front of you.
The one who was crouched in front of you stood and moved back, standing beside the male that was already stood with his hands crossed. Wait. You've seen him. He is the one that took you from the forest, the one with siphones straped to his body, seven siphones, you counted. They glowed so bright in the darkness. You forced yourself to look at your surroundings. A small room with four walls, a window on one of them and a metal door on another. A table in the middle on which a siphone–less male was now leaning against.
Your hands felt heavy when you tried to lift them, looking down and feeling the weight of the shackles locked on your hand and legs. The chains on them were small, enough to stand but not run. The air left your lungs and you felt like blood drained from you body when you realized where you were.
A torture chamber.
No no no.
Not again. You had just got out of one. You refuse to be locked up again. Anger filled your body as you looked up at your captures and snarled. "Release me!" You demanded.
The siphon male narrowed his eyes while the other's lips thinned in a straight line. The disappointment clearly displayed on both of their faces.
"No." Said the narrow eyed. And before you could speak again, the other one extended his hands as though calming a wild beast and said,"How about we start with introductions? I'm Rhysand, the High Lord of Night Court." His then pointed at the siphoned one,"This is Azriel, The Spymaster of Night Court." He gave a gentle smile which you knew was fake and asked,"And you are?"
Rhysand. Azriel. The High Lord and Spymaster. Night Court. Prythian. Right. I am in Prythian.
Your expression soften and eyes widen when you realized how far you've travelled. You were at the very top Court of Prythian. Did you really walk all the way through the continent without even realizing it?
Rhysand cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows in a silent demand to answer him. You swallowed a lump, wincing when you felt your throat sore and scratchy from dryness. You opened you mouth and told them you name, feeling a lot calmed then you did a minute ago. Rhysand's eyes widens as he looks at you as if he hadn't expected you to answer. "Will you answer a few of our questions?" You nod slowly.
"First of all. What are you?" You frown upon hearing his question but then relax looking at him. Of course he doesn't know.
"I'm a Vampire." You answered. Both their faces shocked and you sigh. Feeling the weight of your life on your shoulders. Azriel composes himself the next second but the High Lord's mouth still agaped a for longer than a minute.
"That's not possible. Vampires aren't real, they're a folklore created by ancients to scare the younglings." It's Azriel that says it this time, shaking his head in disbelief. His voice oddly comforting and you lean your head against the wall closing your eyes for a second. "And even if they were, they are extinct. They haven't been seen in a Millennium."
"So were Seers. But they came back too, didn't they? Even if only one." You open my eyes and raise an eyebrow.
"Yes. And im not going to ask how you know that but that's because a female was thrown into the cauldron and it gave her powers." Rhysand states.
"Exactly." You say. "The cauldron made her a fae and gave her powers, along with her sister. And I know because I've heard about you, high lord. The one who stole Spring's wife." You laugh softly. "It's absured what they say about you."
Rhysand's jaw clench.
"Calm down. I'm not making fun of you." You gave an apologetic expression.
"How are you a vampire? Have you been hiding all this time?" Azriel winces as he says, probably cringing at how crazy his words sound.
"Couldron made me a Vampire when I was pushed into it. Since I was already fae, I became the creature who feeds on blood to live. I was transformed in hybern, been made one of the King's experiments." You explain. They both frown in confusion and share a glance while you close your eyes and rest yourself against the cold, hard wall, the exhaustion of your journey finally hitting you at once.
"How did you get here?" Azriel questioned.
"I used my powers."
"What, exactly, are your powers?" It's was Rhysand this time.
"Compulsion. I can compell anyone to do anything I want."
"Is that how you hid yourself? Killing or compeling the people, who saw you?"
You finally straighten your neck, giving them your full attention and raise an eyebrow. "Isn't it obvious? I compell the people to forgot they saw me." Rhys' body tenses as that. "You can control minds?" His calm tone shealing the panick and anger behind it.
"Not exactly minds. I can control your consciousness by looking into your eyes and ordering you." They shared a glance, unsure to believe you or not.
"Don't think im telling the truth?" You tilt my head towards the shadowsinger. "I can show you." Azriel assessed you cautiously and nodded once.
You peered into his yellow onyx eyes, the gold flickering in them can be seen clearly even from the distance between you both. Concentrating on energy thuming beneath your mind, your iris' expand as you give the order,"You'll do as I say."
His face cleared of any feelings, his expression bland as he repeated,"I'll do as you say."
"Take off my binds." You lift your hands and the corner of you lips quirk up.
His eyes widen,"No!" He exclaimed but his feet moved on their own, seeming as if they were they're own person. He stopped in front of you and sat on his toes, hands moving to your restrins. "What the fuck?" He barked.
"Azriel stop!" The High Lord ordered, stepping behind him and held onto his shoulders, trying to get him away from you. Azriel didn't budge.
"Stop." You spoke, pulling your hands back toward you before he actually opened your chains. Azriel stood and took a big step away from you, finally in control of himself. He and Rhysand breathing hard, staring at you in disbelief. "Believe me now?"
A moment of silence passed, no one speaking anything before Rhysand cleared his throat,"How–," He shaked his head slightly. "When did you became a vampire?"
"I'm not quite sure of the time. All I know is that when you killed the king, I ran and came here." You shrug.
"Tell us everything." He ordered, the traces of a gentle man gone, leaving only the authority of a high lord. "You said 'experiment'. What do you mean by that?"
"You don't think he just threw the high lady's sister in there and hoped for the best did you?" Your lips thinned. "He tried it at first, obviously. Trying to see if his theory actually worked. Since he couldn't throw in humans, he bought fae slaves like me and drowed us in the Couldron. He drowned one fea at a time. The first two didn't survive but he didn't give up hope. When the third subject resurfaced, he was overjoyed. Thinking it finally worked but all that hope was destroyed when he crawled out of the Couldron and died a few minutes later.
The forth subject the same as before but the fifth survived. She came out a dragon, being able to exchange skin for scales and pikes, hands to wings, and breath fire when angry. The king locked her up and tortured her, trying to check how strong she was. She lived a full month but at the end died of bloodloss." You sucked in a sharp breath, preparing yourself for further.
"The sixth subject came out looking normal. But everyone quickly realized they had made a mistake calling her a fail when she looked at a person and that person turned stone. She was executed the second she turned the gaurd stone. I don't know details more than this because as I said we were never transformed at the same time. I heard all this in small pieces of information, listening to the guards that were stationed to my cell, talk.
I was the seventh subject. The only fae who was weak enough to torture and strong enough to keep alive. They beat us, burn us, and tortured us in ways I couldn't even imagine were possible. I had a better of it though because not long after I was turned, you killed that king in war. When I heard the he was dead and the castle was in mayhem, I ran. I ran and compelled my way out of Hybern and into Prythian, in hopes of finding a better life." You gave them a lopsided smile and sigh.
"You killed innocent people in the process. You murdered your way through our land." Azriel finally spoke and the look in his eyes as he looked at you was pure rage.
"I was weak. I was hungry. I couldn't control my hunger, I didn't know how to. When I fed on those people, I planed to just take a sip of thier blood and leave. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't control myself in the few killings. I would never kill a person on purpose. I never want to harm anyone. And after I was strong enough, I did learn to control. I fed, compelled and ran." You tried to explain yourself but it seemed clear he didn't believe you.
"You could've used your power to get out of here the second you woke up. Why didn't you?" He abruptly changed the topic. You swallow a lump.
"As I said, I don't want to harm anymore people."
You turned to the high lord and said,"I won't hurt anymore people. You have my word. I just want my freedom. A peaceful life is all I want." You plead.
"How do we know you're not lying?" Azriel asked in an irritated tone. I glaced at him and said to Rhysand,"You can look into my head. If you find that I'm laying, you can kill me right here and never let me walk out alive. I'll accept whatever punishment you give. I promise you I'm saying the truth." You considered begging at this point if it got you free.
Rhysand looked at Azriel, The two of them held each others gaze for a minute without saying anything, having an unspoken conversation. Your eyes skipped between them, confused because they weren't even blinking.
Suddenly, Rhysand turned to you, stepping near and put a hand on your head. He either didn't notice the dirt in your locks or didn't care. You gasped feeling a dark shadow within you soul, you winced and shut your eyes because it felt almost painful, not so much that you couldn't handle it but enough to steal you focus only to the shadow digging around your subconscious. Your body locked itself in the position you were sitting in. You couldn't do anything but sit there and let the high lord examine your thoughts.
After what felt like forever Rhysand finally stepped back and sighed. The relief of body finally back to your control almost made you drop to the ground but you kept yourself composed. Breathing heavy and looking up to the high lord, you raised an eyebrow, silently questioning him.
"She's telling the truth. She doesn't intent on killing anymore people." Rhysand informed Azriel and his face relaxes the slightest. "And as for your request," He told you,"Fine. I'll let you walk through Night Court," I couldn't control my smile. "But only on one condition." He raised a finger.
"Anything." You noded.
"Azriel will be with you at all times. Anywhere you go, anytime you go. He will be there. At least until we are sure to trust you won't harm our residence." Rhysand ordered and Azriel clenched his jaw.
"Alright!" You felt so happy, you could dance.
Rhysand and Azriel shared a worried glance, again but you were too in your own joyful world to realize. You are finally free. You closed your eyes and rested you head on the wall, the smile on your face refusing to go.
I am finally free.
-☆-
Azriel watched with skeptical eyes as you practically skipped through the road. You both were on your way to a small bakery Feyre had suggested.
When you were taken out of the dungeons, the High Lady of Night Court had arried there complaining how long her mate had been gone. Her eyes had widened when she took a look at you, worry clearing written in her expression. When the high lord and spymaster explained who you were and what your situation was, she immediately took it in her hands to get you comfortable.
It was weird, to be honest. You had never experienced someone being so kind and nice to you, treating you like you were important, like you mattered. Even before you were turned, your life was rough, being a slave waiting to be sold, it was expected. So yes it had been very weird.
You were transfered in a house built above a mountain. Rhysand said it was because Azriel lived there and you were always expected to be with him, but you knew the real reason. It was because the House of Wind had ten thousand steps, standing so high the if you ever tired to run, you wouldn't be able to go far without being caught or dead. But you didn't care because you never wished to run. Never wished to give them any reason not to trust you.
So you accepted your fate with a happy face. You met with High Lord's inner circle who were cautious with you, still are, but a little comfortable thsn before. You only met them once and are sure they all could kill you the second you did something wrong.
Everyday you walked with azriel around Valaris, going from one shop to another, learning the style and culture of people of Night Court. You were first a bit scared to do or touch anything in front of Azriel, not even speaking much but you have to admit, you got used to having him around. Finding him at every corner you turned to, watching you. After a while you tried to talk to him, making small talks about random things as you walk and surprisingly he replied to you everytime.
Azriel didn't understand how someone can be so annoyingly curious about everything. You looked at every person, every dish of food, every single thing with so much curiosity and happiness, it made him almost angry. The smile of your face hadn't left for a second since they released your shackles. It was like walking with a bubble full of pure contentness.
Your eyes widen in excitement as you pointed to a bakery in front of you. "There is it!" You took your hand in his and walked faster, almost ran to the door of the small shop. He opened the door and stepped aside to let you in first and closed it behind you both.
You smile impossibly wide as you take in the pink interior. A few tables spread across the left side of the shop with even fewer people sitting on them and the right filled with freezers that contained verities of sweets. From cakes and pastries to cookies and different breads, everything looked so delicious, you can't possibly choose what to taste first.
"Good morning darlings, what can I get you?" The lady behind the cash counter asked with a smile.
"I apologise but I can't decide. Why dont you suggest me something?" You gave a smile.
"Alright do you like chocolate?" She asked. You opened you mouth to reply but stop, trying to remember if you've ever tasted chocolate. You don't think you have. Well guess you'll if you like it now. "Sure." You smiled.
When the lady asked Azriel what he wanted he just said that he doesn't want anything. You both go to sit in one of the empty tables on the very left corner, taking the seat opposite to one another. There is a widow right next to you from which you glimpse at every person walking through the road.
While you observe outside the window, Azriel observes you, thinking how can anyone be so energetic all the damn time. He thinks of how you look so different than how he first saw you, covered in so much filth, and now your skin is as clear as water. Your eyes and lips so perfect, he can admire you for days without stopping. The one thing he's sure is amazing, is the joy in your eyes, he swears you could have the deadliest disease and still be happy.
He breath catches for a second when you turn to him, realizing he had just been caught ogling you. He expected you to frown in discomfort or turn to the other way trying to avoid him but he stopped breathing entirely when he sees you smile even brighter at him. The blush on you cheeks and sparkle in your eyes fading away the rest on the world around you.
His focus entirely on how breathtakingly beautiful you are.
The moment shatters when a girl in aprone comes in with a dish and places it between you both, muttering a small enjoy and going away, leaving them alone again.
"I've never had chocolate before. I'm not sure if I'll like it or not." You quietly admitted. Azriel tried not to let his surprise show as he digested the information. Of course you never had chocolate, you were a slave most of your life. He mentally rolled eyes at himself.
You picked up the spoon and scoped a small piece of the brown substance. You put it in your mouth and instanty let out a small moan at the taste. Sweetness explods in your mouth as you chewe, digging in for the rest of the cake immediately.
Azriel tried to ignored what that moan did to his body. He tried to suppress the smile itching to appear on his lips as he watched you eat the piece of cake in utter amusement. The chocolate covered you lips and you tounge poked out the lick in clean. You finished the cake and beamed at him. "One more, please?"
Azriel's lips turn up at the corner as he gestured the waiter for one more pastry. He noticed the end of your lips still brown. "You still have chocolate on your face." He stated and pointed at his own lips, trying to show the exact place. Your hand came up and wiped the opposite end. "Better?" You asked. He shaked his head. "The opposite." You wiped it almost cleaned but missed a spot. You raised you eyebrows, silently questioning him again.
He sighed and reached his hand to your face and wiped the rest clean. His fingers felt rough against your soft skin. You intake a sharp breath feeling fire ignited against your skin as he moved his hand back. He then pulls his thumb near his mouth and open his mouth to lick the chocolate off. His eyes held your gaze for a heated moment and you forgot how to breath.
The moment interrupted when the waiter came in again. Bringing in the second dish of chocolate cake you ordered, though before she could rest it on the table, someone pushed her, causing her to lose footing and drop the dish, shattering it to the ground. A hundred broken pieces of ceramic glass spread through the floor and she spoke out a curse. Bending down to pick up the pieces, she repeated apologises under her breath, but as she picked up one sharp pieces, the sharp edge cut through her skin and she instanty dropped it and gasped. The small cut deep enough to gush out a trail of crimson blood.
You tense as the smell of blood fills the room faster than anything. You close your eyes and try to control but the smell is so strong you feel hunger hit you all over your body. Azriel quickly stood up and grabed you, standing you up too as you both quickly get out of the shop, you running as fast as you can from the desire to feed on that poor girl until you feel her limp in your arms.
Azriel pulled you in a dark ally beside the walk way, placing your back against the wall and resting both of his hands beside your head. You press your eyes with both hands trying to think of something else, anything other then the beautiful scarlet liquid ready to be suck on just a few steps away.
"How are you feeling?" Azriel doesn't mention how he feels proud of you that you controlled yourself enough to get out after not drinking blood for so long.
"Hungry." You growl, trying to distract yourself by thinking.
"You need to distract yourself."
You scoff. "You think im not already trying." You snapped at him, not even in enough mindset to feel bad. Your head hangs low as you reach to your hair, pulling as hard as you can. Pain. Yes that's what's going to distract you.
Azriel licked his lips. "I have an idea but I'm not sure you'll like it." He whispered.
"I don't care if I like it not. If you have something to calm me then act on it!" You finally lowered your hands and glared at him.
Azriel felt speechless as he looked at you. Your irises glowed red and veins that coloured black and purple pulsed around you eyes. Your mouth in a snral, showing off you pointed canine that stood out proudly with sharpest edge amongst the other teeth. You looked deadly as though you could kill him this very second without a problem.
It made him want you even more.
Pushing every doubt out of his head he slam his lips to yours. You mouth open in a gasp and he used it to his advantage, pushing his tounge in your mouth. You returned the kiss with a sigh, pushing yourself into him, hands in his hair and tougne tied with his. His one arm wrapped around you waist and other behind you neck pushing your head upwards to deepen to kiss.
You both kept your lips to the other until what felt like forever. Finally pulling back and opening your eyes to find him already looking at you. The hunger you felt now was of a entirely different reason than before the kiss. The gaze you shared was a lot more than desire, it was raw and intimate.
You smirked at each other.
"I hope you liked that, because we are definitely doing that again."
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Text
Six becomes Five
Prev | Next
Content warning: Unreality
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"Sparkling Joy Cookie! There you are!"
You blinked a few times, your head pounding. You let out a soft groan, pressing a hand to your forehead. "Oh, by the Witches.. Did I drink something bad..?"
"Sparkling Joy Cookie?" The voice asked, concerned.
"One second.."
You pushed yourself up to sit, rubbing your forehead. Blinking a few more times, you opened your eyes to
Red
Purple
Pink
Yellow
Blue
BLUE.
"Shadow Milk Cookie?"
"Hehe, yup!" He grinned at you. "How are you feeling?"
"Ugh, like crap.." You grumbled, pushing yourself upright. "Do you remember what happened last night?"
He pursed his lips as he helped you up. "I think the right term would be an 'hour ago'. Burning Spice Cookie may or may not have hit you too hard during sparring and sent you flying into a tree."
"Ugh, that jerk.." You huffed softly, stumbling as you regained your balance. "Where is he now?"
"He left a few minutes ago." The fellow Primordial smiled. "Said something about a village that needed burning -"
Burning?
"Helping!" He chuckled. "A village needed helping."
You blinked a few times, uncertainty creeping into you. Had Shadow Milk Cookie just said burning? No, your mind had to have been playing tricks on you. There's no way he would say that!
You rubbed your head as you gazed at him.
.. where was his hat? Why was he grinning like that?
"Sparkling Joy Cookie?" He frowned, tilting his head. Too far too far too far.
HIS NECK SHOULDER HAVE SNAPPED.
You rubbed your eyes. "I.. I need a walk. I think my head is messing with me, hehe.."
You smiled in what you hoped was a reassuring way.
Your friend watched you walk away, his face falling as strings unraveled.
You walked through the trees, your wings tucked tight to your back. Your head was still pounding, but it felt like your chest was constricting. And your Soul Jam..
CRACK
as the attack intended to crumble-
You gasped and stumbled, leaning against a tree. You rubbed your eyes before spotting a lake nearby.
Rushing over to it, you kneeled down and scooped some water up and splashed it into your face a few times. Sparing with Burning Spice Cookie never made you feel this bad. Sure, sometimes it he got out of hand, but he never intended to hurt you.
You looked down at the water, and faltered.
A Cookie you didn't know stared back at you, their eyes as wide.
A splash of water made you jolt and fall onto your back. You hissed from the sting of pain and looked up to see Shadow Milk Cookie.
It wasn't him. That's not him.
He grinned down at you.
"Isn't this nice? Don't you want it to stay this way?"
He picked you up and squeezed you tightly, making you hiss. "Shadow Milk Cookie-!"
"Just stay here!" He pleaded, squeezing you tighter.
"-er Cookie!"
"You aren't Shadow Milk Cookie.." You whispered softly, eyes narrowing.
"-ader Cookie!!"
"I am-!"
"You haven't been for a long time."
The strings surrounding you snapped, the world faded and you
f
e
l
l
.
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You gasped, and you landed in the arms of Mercurial Knight Cookie, who flew back with you towards Silverbell Cookie and White Lily Cookie. "Wha.. where..?!"
"Sparkling Joy Cookie!" Silverbell Cookie gasped. "You're okay!"
"YOU PESTS!" Shadow Milk Cookie shrieked. "GIVE THEM BACK! THAT'S MY SPARKLING JOY COOKIE!"
"Like crap.." You groaned, getting back onto your feet. You focused on trying to reform your scepter, but instead fell to your knees. "Gah..!"
You gritted your teeth as you looked at the other three Cookies. Mercurial Knight Cookie and Silverbell Cookie looked no better than you, and White Lily Cookie looked on the verge of collapsing herself.
She needed to use the Guardian's power.
Shadow Milk Cookie was taunting her, Pure Vanilla Cookie was telling her to fight..
There was a sudden flash of bright light, and you looked over in surprise.
White Lily Cookie was now standing, but she looked different. She looked like a Faerie Cookie.
"Oooh, finally! I see you've made up your mind!" Shadow Milk Cookie grinned.
"White Lily Cookie...?!" Silverbell Cookie gasped.
"That power...!!!" Mercurial Knight Cookie's gripped his spear.
"The Guardian's power.." You whispered, your eyes wide.
Everyone watched with wide eyes as White Lily Cookie channeled the powers she'd been gifted. Green vines, glowing beautifully whipped out and past a shocked Shadow Milk Cookie. Slowly, they turned to a flurry of white butterflies. Landing on the Silver Tree, it was slowly purified, glowing white vines coming to seal the cracks and pouring darkness.
A butterfly landed on your Soul Jam, and you looked down in surprise, seeing the crack in it heal. You felt better as well, enough to stand up on your feet.
"You... YOU...!!! I gave you only two choices...!!!" Shadow Milk Cookie growled in rage. "How dare you ruin... this moment I've been waiting for for so long..."
You watched with your hands gripped, watching as Shadow Milk Cookie slowly began to fade.
You ignored his calls to you.
As the other three Cookies helped your friends down, you looked over at White Lily Cookie.
"That was amazing, White Lily Cookie," you congratulated her as you walked closer, smiling warmly. She seemed to bloom under your praise. "For a moment there, I thought you were a Primordial just like me."
"Ah! That reminds me!" Pure Vanilla Cookie hurried over to you. "Reader Cookie, are you-"
"Sparkling Joy Cookie," you gently cutted him off. "Call me Sparkling Joy Cookie."
Everyone seemed surprised.
"But.. why?" Strawberry Cookie tilted her head.
You smiled warmly. "Eh, I've.. come to accept it now. I'll never be like them." You smiled at them all, but more specifically Pure Vanilla Cookie. "You guys.. have taught me that."
With a few more check-ins, the group set off to defeat the last of Shadow Milk Cookie's monsters, when his voice rang out not too long after.
"You think you won, don't you?!"
"HUH?!" Wizard Cookie gripped his staff. "How are you still talking?!"
"You may be celebrating your little victory for now... But heed my words! We have finally risen. Do not think that you can hold us back."
His voice, despite echoing, had everyone on edge.
"Foolish Cookies...! You simply have no idea what's waiting for you...! HA HA HA HA HA!"
"Then bring it," you whispered to the air as his voice faded. "Bring it on. I'll seal you again."
For some reason, after you whispered, sadness seemed to hang in the air.
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You sat far off on the side, watching the Faerie Cookies celebrate. To honor Elder Faeire Cookie, and to celebrate White Lily Cookie.
It was beautiful to watch.
"Why haven't you joined in?" Pure Vanilla Cookie's voice made you jump. He gently set his staff to the side before sitting next to you.
You gave a small smile. "Eh, parties were never really my thing. But, maybe I'll join in soon."
Silence filled the small space between you two before Pure Vanilla Cookie broke it again. "Did you.. mean it earlier? When you said that you wished for us to call you Sparkling Joy Cookie?"
"Of course I did." You gently grabbed his hand, smiling. "However.. Pure Vanilla Cookie, you can call me whatever you like."
His cheeks turned a soft pink, even more so as your wings reformed, and you rested one over his back.
"Ah! That reminds me!" He looked at you, concerned. "Don't you want me to return the Light of Compassion to you?"
You frowned softly as you thought about it. While you probably should, Shadow Milk Cookie being able to reach Pure Vanilla Cookie unnerved you.
You shook your head. "No, I trust you, and so does it. Until we know that he won't try anything with you."
"But..!"
"Plus, it seems to like you," you pointed out with a smile.
Indeed I do!
Pure Vanilla Cookie chuckled bashfully, turning his head away.
You smiled and pressed your forehead against his, and the smallest hint of a purr rumbled from you. "Plus.. I trust you, Pure Vanilla Cookie. I trust you with all my heart."
He seemed to beam at that and you laughed gently.
As you two continued to talk, none were aware of the Beast stewing in his anger.
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taglist: @snail-noodle @average-crk-enjoyer @looking4userthatworks @ori-stole-the-cheese-again @sqiddgie @justalittledumb @ax0lotly @ihatemyselffromthestart-blog @ravenkake @ohnoivefallen @craixe
So.. We've reached the end of the current content for Beast-Yeast! I would really love to continue this series, but doing filler constantly sounds boring.. but what do you guys think?
(Also, yes, this is another update right after the last one. I was very inspired today.)
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denial-permanente · 4 months
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I love your page and that the two of you share so much of your lifestyle on here. I’m not sure if this is a statement or a question. I’ve read your answers about realistic feeling of this strap on you have and the technique of warming it up first. I just can’t wrap my head around your preference for it compared to the real thing. There has to be some give and take here like, it doesn’t feel as good but Tom’s technique with it is better than the real thing? Something along those lines. Stamina maybe? Either way thank you both for sharing so freely and so often!
😅 Oh boy, this is a hard one for some people... both women and men... to understand.
A lot of, women say that they don't like the feel of dildos, that they are unnatural, or they feel off, or they're too cold, or they just don't like the idea. I was kind of like that myself, and honestly I never even thought about using them with my husband. He was... very satisfying in bed and I honestly didn't feel the need to bring anything else in.
So, when my husband discovered the Vixskin company, he researched them carefully and bought a model that had a size and shape that was very close to his own. There was something about the feel of it that felt more normal to me. It wasn't quite him, but it felt okay and it was attached to him... so it was him close to me, his smell, his muscles, his arms holding me. I decided that I could live with it.
But here is the important part. After a while his wearing it began to feel totally normal. Just like having him locked all the time felt totally normal. I loved him being horny and affectionate all the time, I loved having all the control over our love life, and I loved how passionate he was making love to me while wearing the Tex.
When I missed feeling him come inside me I would unlock him... but those times became less and less often. We often went for months at a time without me wanting to unlock him... which meant that his wearing the Tex felt more and more natural to me.
Eventually he figured out the trick of warming it up before we made love, and that made things go from feeling natural to feeling... better. Like, I don't know why he didn't think of it sooner, it's so simple. But because I could feel the heat inside me it made our lovemaking more intense.
And now here the part that you men always ask about: unless your wife is a porn star, do not assume that she really wants a foot long monster inside her.
After 4 years of using only the Tex my husband asked if I wanted to try something bigger. While I honestly did not feel the need to I went along out of curiosity. We ended up with the Ranger X for several reasons. One is that it was supposed to have been made with a different process that made it more lifelike. Another is that when looking at the dimensions it was only a little bit bigger... maybe an inch longer and a half inch thicker. But when we first opened the package that little bit bigger on the website looked huge!
I have written before about what it was like getting used to it. But to the point of the question, I found that it made my husband feel the same to me but different... and in a good way.
Remember... when we make love I am feeling my husband holding me close, whispering in my ear, his weight on top of me, his hot cage pressing into my ass. All of those things are him... how he feels and smells and sounds. And because he is totally focused on me, he moves the way I want him to move to give me pleasure depending on my mood.
I guess what you were looking for was for me to say "I love the Ranger, but I miss my husband because..." except that there really isn't anything because I don't think of it that way. I do not think of him as wearing a strapon... I just think of it as doing what was very natural for us... just with something that feels even better than the Tex.
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venus-haze · 1 year
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Dawn Patrol (Homelander x Reader)
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Summary: You never thought you’d see him again. Your soulmate, your other half, your partner in crime-fighting, the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. It seems like the universe is giving you a second chance when you end up in this place with Homelander. Except, this one isn't quite like the man you remember, but he's not letting that stop him.
Note: Gender-neutral reader, and no descriptors are used. This is based on an anonymous request and also a different take on the “love of your life died and came back but something's wrong” horror trope. Title comes from the Megadeth song (which is about living in a dystopia). Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: Extremely unhealthy relationship. Intense feelings of loss, confusion, and self-doubt on the reader’s part. Some elements of unreality? Homelander is extremely manipulative, possessive, and gaslights the hell out of the reader in this, but no physical harm is done. Do not interact if you’re under 18.
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The man standing in front of you wasn’t John, not your John, at least. He acted strange whenever you called him that. Homelander felt so impersonal, though, a title and persona rather than the man you loved your whole life. You silently scolded yourself. You shouldn’t complain so much, not when he believed you, against all reason, despite never having met you before in this version of reality. If it were even real. 
You had crumbled the first time you saw him. Weeks of being locked in a lab, poked and prodded and tested before he entered with an unfamiliar coldness. It had to have been a cruel trick, these people using your greatest vulnerability against you. John had been presumed dead for years. The ache that consumed you at his loss made it hard to even breathe sometimes, and you’d spent countless nights alone in your formerly shared bed, wracked by guilt for not doing more as you silently implored the universe to give you one more chance. You should have known it’d come with plenty of strings attached.
His name echoed through the room in a desperate howl. You strained against the titanium cuff you were chained to, and he froze upon hearing one of the links break. Rabid, desperate, tears streamed down your face in your delirium. You needed to touch him, to feel for yourself that it wasn’t your brain tricking you again. It has to be real this time.
His breath hitched as he approached you, the way animal control does a feral dog–cautious and gentle, but still regarding you with a level of distrust. Your struggle subsided with each step he took, until he was finally in arms’ reach. Looking into his blue eyes for the first time in years, your hand trembled as you lifted it to caress his cheek. Soft and warm like you’d remembered. 
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m your–Gemini,” you said. “‘Cause I can–”
“Make duplicates of yourself, they told me. Who are you?”
“Not here, but somewhere else, I'm your partner in, well, everything. We grew up across the street from each other,” you told him. “Your powers showed up sooner than mine, but your mom always said we were a package deal, so when we started fighting crime together, it just made sense that we’d fall in love too.”
“My mom?” he whispered.
“She was the one who came up with the name Gemini for me.”
His gaze softened, his eyes turning cloudy. You recognized that look. Deep in thought, a million miles away, the only place John wouldn’t take you. This one didn’t seem eager to do so either. Did he and his mom not get along here? Was she dead, even? 
He cleared his throat. “Go on.”
“We called ourselves Dawn Patrol because we’d get up before school to do our superhero stuff, and it stuck.”
“How did you end up here, then?”
“I already told them–”
“I want to hear it from you.”
You recoiled a bit. Your story began at the end, and while you managed to tell it to a group of seemingly indifferent white coats, recounting it to the man himself, or some version of him, was almost too much to bear. Still, you pushed through.
Phantom, that’s what he called himself, selfish and conniving with the ability to teleport in the shadows and seemingly shift reality itself. He was a particular menace that you and Homelander could never quite get the upper hand on, the situation imploding when Homelander, your Homelander, tackled the supervillain mid-teleport. The last thing you saw of him was his back as he disappeared with Phantom. 
No one had seen him since. Despite Phantom’s insistence that he didn’t know what happened to Homelander, you kept an irrational, unrelenting grudge against him for taking the love of your life away from you. Guilt and rage fueled you, and in your most recent, and presumably last encounter with your arch-nemesis, you made the same mistake Homelander did, and ended up wherever the hell you were.
“Either you’re telling the truth, or you’re an unprecedented liar,” he hissed through his teeth, grabbing your wrists, “but I believe you.”
A beastial imitation of your first and only love transformed before your eyes over the following weeks. In his absence, your yearning had grown teeth, long and sharp, hungry to tear through flesh and for your flesh to be torn. This new man’s rib cage cracked open to offer part of himself to recreate you. You looked into the crimson void and saw his beating heart, a long-suffering shrine to you as yours was to his, or at least some memory of him. A loneliness you were all too familiar with was already settled deep within him. Why needlessly suffer though a monastic existence any longer?
You, in turn, indulged in him. Allowed your hunger to overtake you and break your involuntary fast as you devoured him. Insatiable, your lips pressed against the skin of this stranger that nevertheless you knew by heart. In your grief, in your anger, you’d pulled him out from the ether. You wondered if you could put him back together as the man you knew he could be, bloody your hands raw clawing back the damage that had been done to him by whoever came before you. 
The first few days, you tried as much, the two of you hardly letting up from your entanglement in his bed. You stared at the mirror on the ceiling, taking him in with the attentiveness of the crowds that gathered around the tragically small Mona Lisa in the Louvre. Then, in the quiet moments, in tones hardly above hushed whispered, he’d ask you questions about this other life and upbringing he never got to experience, pensive at your answers, almost bothered at times. 
Most of his questions seemed to be about his parents, especially his mother. Though your phone had been returned to you, it had no signal, but you were able to show him photos. Some of the last ones of you and John together was at a Fourth of July party in his parents’ backyard. One of his aunts had taken a candid photo of you, John and his parents sitting together at one of the patio tables, smiling and laughing. You had everything documented, from weddings to birthday parties to school days. John always poked fun at you for taking the phrase “take a picture, it’ll last longer” so seriously. 
Now, reflecting on these times with his other, you clung to him as you watched him swipe through this other version of himself’s life. Studying it, silently reflecting on your stories and anecdotes as if to memorize them, be able to recite them by heart.
Despite the distorted period of reunited bliss, you could tell something was off about Homelander. He talked his way around your questions about his own upbringing, never quite giving you a straight answer and occasionally snapping at you when you pressed for more details. Your eyes widened the first time he did so, heart skipping a beat or two, you couldn’t recall John raising his voice at you like that before. Homelander noticed your reaction right away, soothing you with reassurances that he wasn’t mad at you, he could never be.
It seemed like he was mad at a lot of other people, though. He’d go on long rants about people at Vought, this corporation that didn’t exist where you were from but somehow controlled so much of his life and that of every other superhero. Walking around the tower with him, you noticed the way people’s demeanors shifted when he was there, a nervous submission he seemed to bask in but made your stomach feel sour. 
His attempts not to scare you, to put you at ease with the prospect of spending the rest of your life with him were never quite as successful as he hoped. The warning voice in your brain knew something was off about him. You ignored it as best you could, figuring you could manage a way to handle him and chalking it up to the loneliness he was entrenched in before you came along. One night, a rarity wherein you were alone in his suite and finally had a chance to think the situation through, you panicked, hatching a messy escape plan.
Leaving a duplicate of yourself behind in the living room, you slipped out of the suite, walking down the long hallway to the elevator. The tower was so tall that it required switching elevators to get from the top floor to the lobby, and so you made the initial descent to the 50th floor.
The ride down was excruciatingly long, and every time the elevator stopped to let someone in, you felt yourself freeze up. No one acknowledged you at any point during the descent, filtering in and out, minding their own business. 
When you switched elevators, you knew you were in the home stretch. Your heart raced as you pressed the ‘L’ for the lobby, the star next to the button assuring you that the ground floor would be your ticket out of there. By the time you were on the single-digit floors, you were alone again.
At least, you were until you reached the lobby. The doors opened, revealing Homelander waiting for you behind them. You backed into the wall on the opposite side of the steel box, as if that’d do anything to protect you.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “And where do you think you’re going?”
He entered the elevator, reaching over to press the button back up to the 50th floor. Silence for nearly twenty floors, though you were sure the sound of your rapidly beating heart was deafening to him.
Finally, you spoke. “How did you know?”
“Your duplicate’s pretty convincing, but they don’t have a heartbeat,” he said. 
John had never told you that. Your duplicates were perfect copies of you, your abnormal physical strength sapped to create each one so that they could take damage from attacks in your place. It never occurred to you that they were so blatantly lifeless.
The doors opened on the 50th floor, and instead of going in the next one over to continue the ascent, Homelander pulled you into an empty office. He closed the door, darkness engulfing the room. When you reached for a light switch, he caught your wrist in his hand instead.
“If you have a problem, you talk to me about it. You do not try to fake me out and run,” he hissed. “Do you really think the fucking white coats I saved you from would just let you walk out of here? You’d end up right back in that room. All of those things that he had, the loving parents, the pretty suburban life with your childhood sweetheart that's straight out of a fucking romcom? I didn't get that because of them."
"I'm sorry," you whispered. "You didn't deserve that."
"No," he said, almost shocked at your acknowledgement of how horrific his upbringing was. "I didn't. You're here, now, though, so we're both getting what we want."
Not like this. Not you.
Yet, you were stuck with the hand you had been dealt. This corrupted imitation of the man you loved, who nevertheless was so desperate for the intense emotions you felt for him otherwise that he was willing to believe you despite all logic telling him otherwise. 
The way he spoke about the people back in the lab you’d been held in, as if he knew, experienced what you did and even worse. Saved you from it. Maybe you could try. Maybe that could get you somewhere.
You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. Being around him rendered you emotionally vulnerable. He looked just like him, and at times acted almost exactly the same. If you closed your eyes long enough, you could convince yourself it was him. How long could you go on doing that before you walked around blindly?
“Babe, did you hear a word I just said?” Homelander asked.
You looked up at him. “Got distracted, sorry.”
He rolled his eyes, the slightest smile on his face. “I’ll chalk it up to my good looks. I know you’ve been cooped up for a while, so I want you to do a team-up with me tomorrow night. It’ll be Dawn Patrol, just like old times.”
Old times? There were no old times. Not with him. 
Nevertheless, you agreed. “Yeah, it’d be nice to get back out there. Haven’t done it in a while.”
“Once you’re back at it, you won’t even have to think about it, like riding a bike,” he paused for a moment, “I guess.”
His excitement the following day was infectious. You hadn’t done any crime-fighting in a long time, and doing so with him would surely help you ease into it again. He was always the best of the best, but it seemed like here, not only was he deified, but he reveled in it.
When he brought you to his superhero team’s private gym to train, he was almost shocked at how well your powers and fighting style seemed to compliment him. Elation filled your chest. Maybe you’d jumped to conclusions too soon about him. You just had to be more flexible, willing to compromise to make it work. 
You were thrown off upon being presented with a crime-fighting schedule that night. A self-professed crime analytics team explained their methodology to you. When you looked to Homelander in disbelief, he seemed unfazed by the information. Being able to predict crime down to the minute just to bolster careers and social media followings seemed far from ethical, but from what little you’d learned of Vought in the weeks you’d been there, that wasn’t a concern of theirs.
Flying with him again was almost too overwhelming, bringing back memories of you and John in your teenage years. Instead of partying with your peers, the two of you would pick up fast food late on Saturday nights, sitting on suburban rooftops with your police scanner, eating burgers and listening for trouble. He’d grab you by the waist, flying off with you to stop some bad guys. Of course, people complained to your parents that you’d leave chicken nugget boxes and ketchup packets on their roofs in your haste. 
By the time Homelander landed in an alley just a block away from where the crime would supposedly take place, you were crying. 
“You okay? I thought you’d be used to it.”
“I am. It’s just been a while. Brought back a lot of memories.”
He smiled, kissing your forehead. “You won’t have to go so long without flying with me again. I promise, babe.”
You sniffled, giving him a weak smile. “Let’s go get some bad guys.”
“That’s the spirit!”
The next few minutes were silent as Homelander listened for the sound of a bank alarm. Late-night robbery, the crime analytics team had told you, it couldn’t be easier. You weren’t sure what time it was when Homelander grabbed you, the familiar gesture of his arm around your waist making you feel overwhelmed again. 
When he landed, you could see the glass doors leading into the bank had been smashed, leaving shards of glass scattered on the sidewalk that crunched beneath your boots. There’d be three bank robbers, one lookout while the other two took what they could from the vault. You and Homelander already agreed that you’d take on the lookout and then join him in subduing the others.
You hesitated for a moment when you and Homelander split up, but you didn’t let it distract you too much. The lookout froze upon seeing you duplicate, his hand shaking as he pointed the gun between you and your temporary clone. Whichever one he shot, you’d heal fast enough, though you’d get less damage if he shot the duplicate rather than you.
His impulsiveness proved to be his downfall, as your duplicate began to walk toward him, and he pulled the trigger, nearly passing out when the clone de-materialized before him. 
In his moment of distraction, you knocked the gun from his hand, grabbing a nearby desk phone and hitting him in the temple with it. You kicked the gun to the other side of the room before he could reach for it and hit him in the head again. He dropped to the ground, unmoving on the floor.
You set off to find Homelander. The vault was empty when you got there, a mess of valuable and still smoldering scorch marks in the wall where either the thieves had used explosives to break their way in, or Homelander had lasered them into oblivion. Regardless, there was no sign of anyone.
“Homelander?” you called out. 
No response. You looked around frantically for any sign of him.
You couldn’t lose him again, not even this terrifying version of him. “Homelander, where did you go?”
Silence again. Your pounding heart rang in your ears as you turned around, setting off for another part of the building in hopes of finding him. There wasn’t anyone else you could count on here, and for all his faults, he was the only person you trusted. 
Just when it felt hopeless and your brain was about to implode on itself at the sinking notion that maybe he was gone, a loud bang came from the other side of the bank where the vault was. You rushed over without a second thought for your own safety. Besides, the injury your duplicate had taken on your behalf was already healing. You'd do it a thousand times over if it meant keeping him safe.
Homelander stood in the middle of the previously empty vault, the two thieves knocked out, or maybe they were dead. It didn’t matter, because he clearly wasn’t.
“Where were you?” you asked, your voice cracking.
“I’ve been here the whole time.”
“No you haven’t. I came over here and there was no one. I called out for you and—“
“And what?”
“I wanna go home,” you cried, clinging to him. “Please, let’s just go home.”
He nodded, his superhuman strength allowing him to scoop you up in his arms with ease. You always felt safe in them, and you pressed your head to his chest, trying to focus on the sound of his heartbeat as he flew back to his suite at the tower.
His heart always beat faster than anyone else’s, having to maintain the life of the most powerful superhero to ever live. It was a heavy burden, though you tried your best to offset it, you sometimes felt too reliant on him. He never made you feel bad for it, neither version of him did.
You were still a bit dazed when he landed, shuffling into his living room and leaning against the back of the couch. He said he had been in the vault, but you knew it had been empty when you walked over to it. You knew what you saw.
“You did great with the lookout. I can help you train more, and we’ll try again in a few days,” he said. “I’ll get the crime analytics team to find us another softball one.”
“Homelander,” you began tentatively, “back there did you–did you do that on purpose? Disappear on me?”
“Of course not, darling, why would I do something like that after everything you've been through?” he asked, his voice soft enough that if you let yourself, you could pretend for a few moments he was your Homelander. “I told you, I was in the vault the whole time.”
“I can’t lose you again,” you said, your voice cracking. “I can’t—“
“You won’t. I’ve always been here. I love you.”
He’s lying, the voice in your head screamed, he’s not your John. There’s something wrong. 
You ignored it, choosing instead to kiss him, to drown out the rational with the feeling of your lover’s lips again. You would take this Homelander over none at all. “I love you too.”
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hypnoneghoul · 2 months
Note
when you listen to the rhrn album can you please give your thoughts about like the mixing? Live albums typically don’t always have the greatest mixing but this one like confuses me
alright anon, I'm using your ask to make my official HYP TALKS RHRN SOUNDTRACK post
tag list: @devilsandstarlight @jazz-bazz @skele-bunny @azureseacloud @lilhoechlinsbae @delusionalbitchinthehouse @fallen-iii-ghost
A disclaimer, any negative-leaning take is not hate or "I would've done a better job" (because I would not), it's only my opinion that I was asked for multiple times due to what I do here on tumblr
Okay so I can divide the tracks in two categories when it comes to mixing and all that stuff:
1. Awesome mixing – more depth, better instrumental and vocal balance – Spillways – Cirice – Call Me Little Sunshine – Twenties – Marry On A Cross – Kiss The Go-Goat – Dance Macabre – Square Hammer
2. Less fortunate mixing – some flatness and chunkiness, less balance – Kaisarion – Rats – Faith – Absolution – Watcher In The Sky – Rats – Miasma – Respite On The Spitalfields
I’m not putting If You Have Ghosts into any of these categories because it’s a different world entirely. It’s actually just brilliant, but it’s not as hard to find balance with so few and such instruments as with the other songs on the album. I think Copia is a little too sharp for this vibe and I'm pretty sure they tried to help with reverb. It was a nice touch, but I think it could’ve been more smoothed out. But also I kinda hear Terzo in the second half of it, not Copia, SORRY. The vocal ghoulette could’ve been put either fully on the middle or all stretched all around to surround Copia and the instrumental and fill the space, if that makes sense
In general the mixing is strange in some places, even in the better made songs, it’s just like they lose the plot sometimes. It's possible (and very likely) that it was prepared with vinyls or CDs in mind, not headphones, but that doesn't explain why sometimes it's better and sometimes worse. Some general stuff about mixing I picked out:
1. Dew isn't really on the right, he's more to the middle than Aeon who's totally to the left. Dew could be louder actually in some places, Aeon could be stretched more to the middle 2. Bass has a great definition, we can finally hear how nice some fillers are and how good Rain actually is 3. The girls got some very much deserved highlights, but they did Swiss dirty. I’m outraged for my bbg, but not only because I love him. It would be a genuinely better technical decision if he was louder and/or placed somewhere else. The entire thing is very off balance. It's lead guitar and strong female vocals on the right, and rhythm and basically nothing (Swiss) on the left. It just doesn't make any sense!!!
Now some stuff about specific songs:
1. Rats – So dirty, the mixing failed a little here, the audience just sounds like noise instead of actual good background – DEW DID A PINCH HARMONIC (I manifested it) – Cirrus!!! It’s hard to hear her most of the time and she rocks here – Aeon and Dew had a very good harmony, they work so good together wtf (sorry Aether but they win here)
2. Faith – Aurora and Cumulus completely slay – I adore Dewdrop’s little addition to the 1st solo – But he missed a note in the 2nd solo heh
3. Spillways – FINALLY Swiss in Spillways – It’s the best mixed song in general and I’m not only saying that because of Swiss (who I love), all the instruments and voices are balanced so much better and so much more fluid – There’s less tone definition on bass though
4. Cirice – Dew does some fancy lil harmonic tricks in Cirice, I LIKE – It’s also very well balanced when it comes to instrument, SWISS IS AUDIBLE – Something went WRONG with Cirrus’ synth here, like omfg they did my girl dirty
5. Absolution – I talked about Absolution extensively here
6. Watcher In The Sky – Love the synth on it, why not do that setup for Cirice pls – But also Swiss is always the loudest at the beginning, why not here!? – It’s on the worse list, but it’s not horrible, the backing synths fill it nicely so it’s not as chunky as Rats for example – I think someone forgor Dew is lead, not Aeon, but at least we can appreciate the bug’s skill some more like that – Mounty slamming those bitches at the end, go baby!
7. Twenties – Very glad they highlighted the drums and the bass so much in this one, it’s what Twenties is FOR – Both Dew and Aeon’s palm muting game is so yummy here – Oh, Swiss how I love you – But what are they doing with the solo mixing, why is the bitch moving at the beginning? It’s like someone was late to press some buttons (It might have been on purpose but trying to do some fancy effects doesn’t always work)
8. Miasma – Miasma lands somewhere between the worse and better mixing category but that might be the lack of vocals which takes away some of the needed balance, but it is rather chunky – I don’t like the synths shoved totally into my left ear but that’s just me, not an actual flaw – But then what are they doing at c. 3 minutes??? Again, more fancy doesn’t always mean better and Miasma is fancy and full enough as it is – I think the mixing in Miasma changes from worse to better along the way because the ending is so much better and smoother, around when the sax comes in so they might’ve adjusted some things just to fit it – OMG RAINY GO FANCY AT THE END (the tiniest solo ever <3)
9. Mary On A Cross – Cumulus oh my fuckckk – The vocals before the chorus is such a good touch, nice ascend into the change in melody, love it – Same with Aurora’s solo part the next time, it’s so good that they put her on the middle for that, it’s perfect – The girls do slay the end but Swiss could balance it nicely if only he were just a tiny bit loudeeeeer – And again what are wed doing with these weirdly sustained layered synths??? That’s just slightly unnecessary
10. Respite On The Spitalfields – Swiss should be louder here, too – Respite is in the slightly worse category because this one sounds very flat to me for most part, it’s like only the drums and bass give any depth (or rather force some depth into it) – Once again Aeon’s palm muting is top tier – Girls slaying as usual – I’m not sure why the strings are just forcefully shoved behind Dew but okay… – The mixing here is a crime!!! It’s so flat and this is a song that deserves to be all around and fully immerse you. I’m actually sad about that one – And where are the solo vocal parts???
11. Kiss The Go-Goat – Now why is KTGG deeper and more melodic than Respite??? We’ll never know ig, but yeah, it’s on the better category – Did Nihil fucking mix this album or what??? – Cirrus’ solo in KTGG should be as loud as Dew’s, period
12. Dance Macabre – Dance Macabre is on the better category too, you can even hear Swiss – Glorious bass here
13. Square Hammer – Now Squammer, very good mixing for the finish but I still think that the girls should be more to the middle and wider, especially in backing vocal heavy tracks like this one – YES Dew bestie go ham on it at the end, slay, make your tech angry – OHHHH AEON’S THING UGHGFHNGHGHHG (he was probably wobbling his pickup switch with one of them turned off so it was basically sound on–off–on–off)
Also not really from the technical side but they cut out some strong tracks and it's honestly a big shame :(
Some gear stuff nobody will hear but me (/hj): 1. Rain definitely still has steel strings ‘cause COME ON, the TONE!!! 2. Aeon’s palm muting skills rock 3. The difference between Aeon’s ceramic humbuckers on the Fantomen and Dewdrop’s Hot Rail single coils is on the Strat so prominent AHHH 4. Aeon missed on the CMLS solo a little but Dew covered him up hjfgsdh 5. Slightly funny addition, but I love that Aurora’s voice and Dewdrop’s guitar can be mistaken for one another sometimes because of the tone and pitch lmfao
And that's it heh I'll gladly elaborate on some aspects or answer any questions that might come up so you know, my askbox and dms are open :3
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ihrtnemi · 3 months
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Hi! Can you write a story about shinobu getting caught watching pillar!reader train? Maybe this wouldn't be the first time they caught her watching, just the first time they say something about it? The reader is strong, and tall in frame and shinobu secretly has a crush on them. Thank you!
A Night To Remember
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CW: Gender Neutral - Shinobuxreader WC: 980 Header:https://ph.pinterest.com/pin/87960998964233319/ First request that I made! Im so happy!! I hope you guys like the short oneshot that I made, I also dont know if I made it as envisioned by anonymous (crying) DO NOT REPOST/REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED
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As The Mirage Pillar, you were a skilled fighter. You used quick and precise techniques that left behind images, used to trick demons. It was created by you and it was derived from Thunder Breathing. 
You were new to the entire “Hashira” thing and often avoided every pillar that scared you. You've been observing every pillar ever since you became one and concluded that everyone was intimidating. However, there were still some that approached you, even with the timidness that you showed. There was Mitsuri Kanroji, she was a fun and bubbly person whom you liked talking to and then there was Shinobu. Shinobu was kind, she spoke and looked smart but she always carried a frightening aura wherever she went. It shook you the wrong way but you let it pass. 
You weren't shy, you were just overwhelmed with everything and you didn't really feel like you were good enough to be a Hashira yet. 
So, it led you to training aggressively in the day. During these training sessions, you would always sense someone watching you. You let it go since it was daytime and it was probably just an animal. 
But, as days passed, the strange feeling never left you whenever you trained. You tried looking at your surroundings and walked over to your gate. To your surprise, the strong scent of a clinic hit your nose hard. “Smells weirdly similar to Shinobu.” you thought. 
You didn't think that Shinobu would stalk you though, so you thought she was just passing by.
You then asked your crow to survey the area while you trained during the next few days. Your crow did as asked and to your horror, you found out that Shinobu has indeed been watching you train for the past few days. 
“Maybe the master just ordered her to see how i'm doing?” you thought, you still weren't sure though. 
“I'll just ask her the next time I see her” you thought. 
The next day, you sensed her presence near the gate and finally decided to confront her. You walked towards the gate and saw her. 
“Hi Shinobu!” you greeted her kindly. 
She then turned to you, with a startled expression..
“Oh! (Y/N)!” she said with a hint of surprise and embarrassment.
You then walked closer to her, towering over her frame. “Uhm, can I ask? Did the master ask you to spy on me?”
“Well, of course yes! Why else would I even be here?” she blushed. 
She then moved on and said, “I'll get going now,” she turns away and tries to leave.
“You know, you can just sit and watch me train rather than, uh, spying on me. I wouldn't mind training with you either!” you said.
She turned back around, “That would be lovely,” smiling. 
After that, you and Shinobu started getting closer . She would usually sit back and watch you train, on rare occasions, she would even spar with you. 
You did notice the blush she had on whenever she was with you, but she always looked calm and collected. “Maybe she has rosy cheeks?” you thought. 
It was another day of training and it was an exhausting one. You just finished an extremely long mission but still decided to train instead of rest. 
“(Y/N),” Shinobu said sternly. “You should rest, this isn't good for your body!” she looked at you menacingly. 
“I guess you're right.” you then went to a nearby bench, waiting for her to sit down next to you. 
“I'm so tired,” you said, exaggerating. 
“Lay down on my lap.” she said. 
“Huh?” with confusion but you still did as told. 
You then layed on her lap looking at her, she was very pretty. She had fair skin and pretty eyes, you wondered why she hasn't started modeling. 
“You're so strong, (Y/N),” she looked at you smiling, she then started playing with your hair. You could feel heat rising up to your cheeks. 
You and Shinobu have been friends for some time now but it was never this intimate between you two.  
“Meet me at the garden of the butterfly estate at midnight?” she asked. 
“Sure.”
She then left to attend to her activities. 
A few hours passed and it was finally midnight. You started running towards the butterfly estate, being a bit late. Then, you finally arrived. 
“Shinobu!” shouting, “I'm sorry I'm a bit late! I tried running as fast as I could,” You then lost your speech at the scenery. 
It was beautiful, it had blue and purple flowers with the fireflies and the moon illuminating the scene. It also had a gazebo?!
You then saw Shinobu standing at the Gazebo watching you, and you started walking towards her. 
“I never knew there was a Gazebo here?” you looked at her, “It's also way prettier here than the last time I saw it” you smiled.
“It was added just today,” she said quietly. “Are you okay, Shinobu?” you asked, concerned.
“I have something to tell you,” she said seriously, “You're one of the kindest people that I know. You're a strong, passionate person and ever since I saw you, I knew that it was fate when I met you,” she then trailed off. 
“I like you, I've had a crush on you ever since I met you.” you could see the blush on her face, she was very red. 
At that moment, you knew that you also liked her. “Shinobu is nice, pretty, charming, cute, smart, lovable, and just amazing” you thought, while looking at her. Your cheeks felt hot and you looked away. 
“You don't have to give me an answer right now,” she held your hands, “I can wait.” looking at you. 
“I like you too.” 
“Really?” she asked.
“Yes”
Bonus Scene:
“So, are we like dating?” you asked
“I don't mind,” she said. 
“Omg, we're dating.” you said in disbelief. 
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Authors Note: I feel like theres just something missing in my writing can you guys give me tips? Also! please send me requests on the anime's that I put in my masterlist!
By the way, if i dont respond to requests that means that I dont have the interest to write it, Im sorry. :(
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atopvisenyashill · 2 months
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please please PLEASE elaborate on greywind as robb's husband. i feel like this take unlocked the option to 3d rotate robb within my mind...
Robb the Warg
Something I think is overlooked, largely because we don't get to look into his head (and he never confides in Bran or Catelyn about it) is that robb, like his siblings, starts the series by being given this supposedly divine animal companion that he shares a soul with. during the events of the first few books, all of the other starklings are accidentally warging and we see it affect them - they’re afraid, curious, getting used to eating raw meat in wolf form, and throw themselves into Identifying As An Animal. some quotes here, although none of this is stuff we all don't know-
Gendry nodded. Hot Pie said, "Hoot like an owl when you want us to come." "I'm not an owl," Arya said. "I'm a wolf. I’ll howl."
And later, when she's ready, Arya isn't the one to howl but another wolf-
When he stopped moving, she picked up the coin. Outside the walls of Harrenhal, a wolf howled long and loud. She lifted the bar, set it aside, and pulled open the heavy oak door.
Which leads us to think that perhaps it's Nymeria, that Arya made Nymeria howl, and perhaps Arya can still warg - something that is confirmed in the next book when Arya has dreams of leading a wolfpack and finds her mother's body, with Nymeria guarding it from being eaten by other wolves. Later on, Arya skinchanges into a cat in braavos while she's blind-
The priest winced and snatched his hand back. "And how could a blind girl know that?" I saw you. "I gave you three. I don't need to give you four." Maybe on the morrow she would tell him about the cat that had followed her home last night from Pynto's, the cat that was hiding in the rafters, looking down on them. Or maybe not. If he could have secrets, so could she.
We have several scenes where both Arya and Bran identify as wolves, and even howl alongside wolves. Rickon too howls along with the wolves, and his behavior becomes noticeably more animal like.
And of course we have jon snow, who even despite having visions of opening his third eye, meeting other skinchangers, and being involved in magical plots, is actively ignoring his own abilities. It's basically common knowledge at the Wall at this point, even Stannis comments on it-
“Aye. All that, and more. You are a warg too, they say, a skinchanger who walks at night as a wolf.” King Stannis had a hard smile. “How much of it is true?”
SO ALL OF THAT TO SAY....if Jon, Arya, Bran, and Rickon, all of whom have living wolves, are skinchanging regularly, if all these kids are practically steaming with magic...why isn't Robb? Well....he is! And the thing is, he hints at it to Bran-
"Did you hear Summer howling last night?" "Grey Wind was restless too," Robb said. His auburn hair had grown shaggy and unkempt, and a reddish stubble covered his jaw, making him look older than his fifteen years. "Sometimes I think they know things … sense things …" Robb sighed. "I never know how much to tell you, Bran. I wish you were older."
Like Arya's initial re-settling of her bond with Nymeria in the Riverlands, like Jon's continued refusal to admit how much power he has, Robb doesn't understand what he's doing, can sense something off about the wolves, but can't quite put it into words. Later on, some of the men remark on how Robb was able to find the goat trick around the Golden Tooth-
"How did the king ever take the Tooth?" Ser Perwyn Frey asked his bastard brother. "That's a hard strong keep, and it commands the hill road." "He never took it. He slipped around it in the night. It's said the direwolf showed him the way, that Grey Wind of his. The beast sniffed out a goat track that wound down a defile and up along beneath a ridge, a crooked and stony way, yet wide enough for men riding single file. The Lannisters in their watchtowers got not so much a glimpse of them." 
It's from a Frey, and just a rumor, right? Except later on, Jeyne makes this comment to Catelyn-
"Robb has not eaten all day. I had Rollam bring him a nice supper, boar's ribs and stewed onions and ale, but he never touched a bite of it. He spent all morning writing a letter and told me not to disturb him, but when the letter was done he burned it. Now he is sitting and looking at maps. I asked him what he was looking for, but he never answered. I don't think he ever heard me. He wouldn't even change out of his clothes."
Does that behavior sound familiar? It should because Bran also does this when he's warging - not only does he go still for hours, but he usually forgets to eat because he eats through Summer, something Jojen and Bran even talk about.
But that's the problem - Robb has no Jojen, no wildlings, no Jaqen, no Osha to tell him what the hell he's doing and that magic still exists. He's completely lost in the political story and cut off from any magical ties despite actively doing magic. And I think this weights heavy on him because while Arya and Bran, for example, start to identify more as animals, as wolves, as their warging powers go stronger, Robb shies away from this-
"A hall is no place for a wolf. He gets restless, you've seen. Growling and snapping. I should never have taken him into battle with me. He's killed too many men to fear them now. Jeyne's anxious around him, and he terrifies her mother." And there's the heart of it, Catelyn thought. "He is part of you, Robb. To fear him is to fear you." "I am not a wolf, no matter what they call me." Robb sounded cross. "Grey Wind killed a man at the Crag, another at Ashemark, and six or seven at Oxcross. If you had seen—" "I saw Bran's wolf tear out a man's throat at Winterfell," she said sharply, "and loved him for it."
Why is he so cross? Perhaps because he's losing the ability to differentiate between himself and the wolf he regularly shares a mind with, controls? Perhaps because he's killed inside that wolf's head? Perhaps because he thinks he's going crazy?
And of course, his final moment that echoes Jon's - Robb whispers Grey Wind's name, Jon whispers Ghost. And just like it's guessed that perhaps Jon whispered Ghost's name because he's about to actively slip into Ghost's skin for the first time so his body can heal without his soul inside it, Robb is slipping into Grey Wind in his final moments. As Varamyr points out, this is common with skinchangers - a second, much more simple life when your first is ended.
So all this to say - Robb is actively warging Grey Wind throughout the series and starts losing his own sense of self in Grey Wind.
Grey Wind as Robb's Wife
Okay but what does this have to do with their bond? Well the thing is...Grey Wind does not exist outside of Robb. Nymeria, Summer, and Ghost both go off on their own; Nymeria practically has her own plotline outside of Arya, and Ghost goes on a number of little adventures all by himself. But Grey Wind begins and ends with Robb. Much like how Catelyn refers to Ned as the rock her life was built on, how she died with Ned at the ending of agot, Robb is the rock Grey Wind's life is built on, and Grey Wind follows Robb into the grave just moments later.
Not only this, but Robb the Brother and Robb the Warg as identities start to get subsumed into what Bran calls "Robb the Lord" and eventually Robb the King. Because Robb sees this war as his identity, his reason for being, I think he sees himself as almost a liberator - he owes his existence to the brutal murder of the man who was supposed to be his father and his grandfather, as well as the kidnapping & murder of his aunt that anyone with eyes can see completely upended his father’s ability to Feel Happiness Normally. For robb, this war is about not saving his family, but righting all the wrongs and indignities that have ever been done to the north - and when you factor in how quickly the Riverlands flock to him, I think this adds to his resolve because the riverlands is soooo vulnerable and no one’s ever been able to get a handle on them, to properly protect them, not the Targaryen kings, not the petty kings but maybe HE can. It's as Catelyn says-
There would be no peace, no chance to heal, no safety. She looked at her son, watched him as he listened to the lords debate, frowning, troubled, yet wedded to his war. He had pledged himself to marry a daughter of Walder Frey, but she saw his true bride plain before her now: the sword he had laid on the table.
So he’s struggling with magic and identity just like everyone else, and at the same time being subsumed into this other identity of Robb the Lord, Robb the King. I think for a long stretch of time this means he’s combining these identities of Robb the Warg and Robb the King and viewing Grey Wind as his partner, his soul mate, his other half. AKA….his spouse. His husband. His true bride. All of this while he’s using Grey Wind not as a pet or even a defender (contrast to Jon who sends Ghost away when there’s battle or danger!) but as a weapon! But this isn’t because he sees Grey Wind as non sentient, not important, just an animal, it’s because Robb the King, Robb the Warg, it’s all tied up in his head in confusing & horrifying ways.
And that's the exact dynamic most noble marriages have! Men in most of Terros and especially in Westeros see their wives not as independent people but often as extensions of themselves. It’s why Viserys, Robert, Jon Arryn don’t see the “betrayals” at their wives hands coming, it’s why Catelyn phrases criticism in her head as “Ned would have done this", it's why the Khaleesis are required to go to Vaes Dothrak when their husbands die. And so the more Robb sees Grey Wind as his Partner In War, and the more he’s having these impossible true dreams where he is one with Grey Wind, the more Grey Wind is essentially playing the role of a Westerosi Wife for Robb. Summer, Ghost, and even Nymeria have like, lives of their own but Grey Wind is always in the same place as Robb, feeling the exact same things as Robb. Even moreso than Summer, Ghost, Nymeria, Shaggy, and Lady, Grey Wind seems to pick up on Robb's every emotion. He attacks Tyrion because Robb is angry, he bares his teeth at Catelyn when Robb gets cross with her more than once, and very often there's lines like ~Robb stalked from the room and Grey Wind padded along beside him~ or something to that effect.
What's really interesting is that when Catelyn gets back in ASOS, Robb has sent Grey Wind to the kennels because Grey Wind scares Jeyne - the moment Robb marries, he sends his wolf away. He's lost faith in Grey Wind's magical abilities after the "murders" of Bran and Rickon, the murders which sent him to Jeyne's bed in the first place and he says as much-
"I found them, remember? I know how many there were and where they came from. I used to think the same as you, that the wolves were our guardians, our protectors, until . . ."
And the moment Robb is separated from Jeyne, Grey Wind is back at his side, and Robb seems to not only prefer Grey Wind to his anxious little wife, but Grey Wind seems almost annoyed at the imposition of Jeyne-
The day was damp and grey, a drizzle had begun to fall, and the last thing he wanted was to call a halt to his march so he could stand in the wet and console a tearful young wife in front of half his army. He speaks her gently, she thought as she watched them together, but there is anger underneath. All the time the king and queen were talking, Grey Wind prowled around them, stopping only to shake the water from his coat and bare his teeth at the rain. When at last Robb gave Jeyne one final kiss, dispatched a dozen men to take her back to Riverrun, and mounted his horse once more, the direwolf raced off ahead as swift as an arrow loosed from a longbow.
Catelyn remarks that Grey Wind is at his side ones more - "where he belongs" - and from that point until they get to the Twins, Grey Wind remains at Robb's side. Every single scene afterwards mentions Grey Wind with Robb, whether Grey Wind is growling at someone, scouting ahead, or just receiving some scratches from Robb.
And they remain together until the day they both die.
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bi-bard · 4 months
Text
dodie Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Felix Catton - Felix Catton Imagine [Saltburn]
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Title: dodie Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Felix Catton
Pairing: Felix Catton X Reader
Word Count: 2,558 words
Warning(s): self-doubt/self-esteem issues
Summary: Three songs by dodie that would describe a relationship with Felix Catton.
Author's Note: I feel like I could make one of these for almost every character in this film because each one of them has a very specific vibe that fits a different artist.
**Not intentionally written in chronological order**
More stories like this!
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6/10
What goes on behind the words? Is there pity for the plain girl? I'll close my mouth, I won't say a word A nod of pity for the plain girl
To say that Saltburn was overwhelming would be the understatement of the century.
I knew that it would be a lot when Felix invited me out. He had told me a few stories. It painted a picture in my mind of a grand castle with endless hallways and countless rooms. If he had told me that they had kept a dragon hidden under the house, I would have believed him.
Being there was entirely different than the stories. I felt like a child being thrown into the deep end of the pool. His family was a glowing example of old money and nothing to do with it. Grand rooms, extravagance following you everywhere you went. It was all very fairytale-like.
It was during the first dinner that I thought about running for it in the middle of the night.
The dinner was treated as a grand event, even though it was seemingly their normal routine.
Felix tried to make me comfortable, truly he did. He helped me find some clothes that would fit in with the rest of them. He tried to pull me into conversations whenever possible. Still, I felt like a sore thumb. A complete fake.
No one was openly rude to me. I just couldn't help but feel like I was getting questioning looks and judgmental glances whenever I spoke or didn't make direct eye contact with someone. Some part of me knew that it was just my mind playing tricks on me. The other part of me was convinced that each and every one of them hated me.
I went out late one night to stand on the balcony. I was trying to enjoy the cold, fresh air but I couldn't help but look out at the estate around me. Was it ever going to feel like it wasn't suffocating me?
"Is that Felix's jacket?"
I jumped at the sound of a voice. I turned around to see Elspeth standing by the door. Even this late at night, she looked almost royal.
Her question registered a few seconds later and I looked down at myself.
"Oh, um, yeah, it is," I said. "I just grabbed the first one that I saw. Sorry."
"It suits you," she replied. "More than it does him."
I grinned slightly at the joke.
"Trouble sleeping?"
"Just a bit," I shrugged. "Needed some fresh air."
"I see," she hummed, walking forward to stand next to me. "Gorgeous, isn't it?"
"Yes," I answered, almost instinctively.
"Are you going to tell me why you're really out here?" she turned to me. She almost seemed comforted by the stunned look on my face. "It's best to learn now that no one can keep secrets from me here. I am incredibly entuned to the feelings of others. Honesty would serve you much better."
I took a deep breath. I didn't know how to explain this feeling. She likely had never dealt with it before.
But she tilted her head at my hesitation and that seemed to make me crack under the pressure.
"I just... I have been a bit overwhelmed," I admitted. "I'm not from this kind of environment. I was lucky when my family could all sit together at the table, never mind being able to dress up together. And it's... It's all lovely but... we both know that I wasn't built for this kind of life. And I'm not very good at pretending like I am."
Elspeth listened in silence.
"And Felix, bless him, has been so sweet," I continued. "But I know that I'll never fit here. No matter how hard I try. I'm just destined to be... incredibly plain."
There was something about her silence and her eyes that made it easy for me to confess all of that. As if she had gotten access to my brain and had started poking around in there to get me to tell her things.
I finally looked away, staring at the yard again.
"Felix doesn't think that," Elspeth finally spoke up.
I looked at her. She was now also looking out at the yard.
"You are likely the most brilliant thing in his mind," she explained. "He called the house after you both first got together. I have never heard him speak about someone the way he spoke about you. I knew then that he was completely in love with you. I would never say that to him, mind you. Boys tend to get so defensive when confronted with their emotions."
I felt my face only turn into a more stunned expression. Felix hadn't said that he loved me yet, so the idea that she knew from one phone call was more than enough for me.
"He adores you," she continued. "He is convinced that you are going to find your place here. And I agree with him. You, my dear, are anything other than plain."
A smile began to stretch across my face. This was easily the most down-to-earth she had ever been with me. And it meant the world to me.
"Thank you, Elspeth," I said quietly.
She smiled back. "I feel like I need a drink before I go back to bed. Care to join me?"
I nodded. "That sounds very nice."
I followed her inside. Maybe it was the darkness in the building, maybe it was just how my mind had settled, but I could have sworn that the walls seemed a little shorter than they were before.
If I'm Being Honest
Could you love this? Will this one be right? Well if I'm being honest, I'm hoping it might Could you love this? Did you plan to fall? Well if I'm being honest, oh I bet it's not that at all
Part of me hated how good Felix was with people.
He was charming and funny and that was dangerous. He could get people to do almost anything he wanted. That included me... quite embarrassingly.
I had only started going out at all because of Felix. He explained it as being a way to combat burnout, but I think it was just because he wanted me to go out.
Felix and I had an interesting friendship. We were pretty close. The only problem was that he had this tendency to say things that could be read as flirty. Logically, I knew that it was just his personality. He was just like that. But that didn't stop me from getting incredibly flustered when he did it.
Sometimes I would try to flirt back, but either I was really bad at it, or he was just immune to getting flustered.
It was another night where Felix had talked me into joining him and his friends. I had been chatting with a few people when I spotted Felix in another corner of the room. He was chatting with someone. He looked very close to them.
Usually, I wouldn't care. But there was something about that night that got under my skin.
"I'll be back in a minute," I told my friend before making a beeline for the other door.
I didn't see that Felix had even noticed me moving. Not until I made it outside.
"Hey, you alright," Felix asked as he followed me out.
I hummed, my brain taking a moment to process the question. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just needed some air. Go back inside."
"What's going on?" he furrowed his eyebrows at me. "You seem... off."
"It's nothing."
"You're a terrible liar, you know that, right? I can always see through you."
I shook my head, looking down.
"(Y/n)...," he murmured, reaching out to touch my arms. "You can talk to me. Please."
I looked back at him. "It's stupid. Please, just go inside. I'll be there in a minute."
He crossed his arms over his chest, planting his feet where he was.
"You are... such a child."
He just shrugged.
"For fuck's sake," I muttered. "Fine! I got... I got jealous."
"Jealous," he repeated.
"I told you that it was stupid!"
"No, no," he shook his head. "Jealous of who?"
"Whoever you were flirting with in the corner earlier," it was my turn to cross my arms like a child.
"I wasn't flirting with anyone," he replied.
"Yes, you were."
"Nope. Didn't happen."
"You probably wouldn't know because it's your natural state of being," I argued.
"What?"
"Yeah," I insisted. "That's why you flirt with me sometimes."
Felix didn't respond. If I hadn't been so focused on defending myself, then I would have seen the way his eyes go wide as he made some kind of realization.
"And that's fine," I continued. "Or I thought it was, but then I saw you tonight and it just... it hit different, okay? It's just because I... I don't know, I got too sentimental about it. It made me nervous and flustered and that was weird for me. And maybe that led to me getting really confused about... this."
Felix started to chuckle and ran his hand over his mouth.
"I... I like you, Felix," I confessed before I could even think to stop it. "I really like you. And I know that you don't feel the same way and that's fine. It was just the flirting and dragging me out with your friends and holding my hand sometimes and- you're laughing. Why are you laughing? Stop laughing!"
"Sorry," he said quietly. "(Y/n)... my flirting with you was very intentional."
"What?"
"Yeah, I'm friendly with people," he explained. "But I was flirting with you. I was very purposefully flirting with you. I... I thought I was being horrendously obvious, but I guess not."
"Why?"
"Why do you think," he asked.
I furrowed my eyebrows.
He chuckled again before going to cup the sides of my face. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. I froze where I was. I suddenly had no idea what to do with my hands or my lips or anything. All I could think to do was close my eyes and enjoy the feeling.
He pulled away and I opened my eyes.
"Get it?"
"I think so," I muttered. "I still feel really stupid."
He chuckled. "Wanna head inside?"
"Not really," I said. "Wanna walk me home?"
The smile on his face got a little wider. "Sounds amazing."
I stepped back and held my hand out for him. "Come on."
He took my hand. This time, it felt a little different.
It was a very good kind of different.
Party Tattoos
And we're not bruised they're just party tattoos And that colourful mess is just colourful regret Black lipstick will never be a sin We'll regret it when we're old with wrinkled up skin
I had been sitting at a table in the library, frantically scribbling in my notebook when someone plopped into the chair next to me. I looked up and saw Felix sitting there with a grin on his face.
"Hello...," I said, suspicious of why he was being so quiet.
"Hi," he replied.
"Can I help you," I asked.
"Well, I was going to offer to help you," he explained. I raised an eyebrow at him, placing my pencil down and folding my arms over my chest. "You should come out to get a drink with me and a few of my friends tonight."
There was a pause before I spoke up, "I'm failing to see how this is you helping me."
"Well, you told me a while back that you were having trouble making friends here. And it'll get you a night away from your studies."
"Why would I want that?"
"Because I've seen how you study," Felix replied. "You're burning yourself out."
I rolled my eyes and turned back to my notes.
Felix's hand landed on my paper, blocking what I had been trying to read. I raised an eyebrow at him. He looked like he immediately regretted his course of action, but he was too stubborn to back down now.
"Come ooon," he begged. "One drink. If you're not having fun, then I'll get you back home to your notes safe and sound. I promise."
I sighed. "Fine."
He threw his hands up in the air, cheering. I frantically shushed him and waved for him to shut up.
I put my hands over my face, feeling like everyone was staring at me. "Oh my-"
He stood up and started walking out. "I'll meet you outside your building tonight at 7! This will be fun, I promise!"
"Shut up," I hissed at him. He laughed and continued his path out of the building.
That night, I found myself walking out of my building while I constantly adjusted my clothing. I don't know why I owned these clothes. They were anything other than my style. I just knew that I was very thankful that I hadn't lost them.
Felix was pacing outside the door when I made it out. He stopped when he heard the door open.
He smiled at me. "You look amazing."
"I look like an idiot."
He shook his head. "Not even close."
I felt my face warm up. He always said things like that. Sickeningly sweet things that made me feel like a fool. My stomach would do flips. It wasn't fair. I never got to do that to him.
"Come on," he held out his hand. I grinned and grabbed his hand.
Felix's friends had secured a table in the corner before we had made it.
I felt a pang of nervousness in my stomach. That was a lot of people. A lot more than I was prepared for.
I almost tripped when Felix pulled me over to the bar instead of the table. I could barely hear him ordering two drinks for us.
I just followed his lead. He handed me a drink and guided me over to the table. He let me slide into the large booth before sitting next to me.
I didn't expect myself to slide into conversation so naturally, but after a matter of minutes, I found myself laughing with this group that I had never really met before.
I felt very peaceful. There was something about being in this group and not feeling judged that made everything just click into place for me. I couldn't think of a time when I felt like this before. It was nice. Really nice.
It was an hour in when Felix poked my side. I turned to him. He leaned over so I could hear him properly, "How are you feeling? Wanna head home?"
I leaned back and shook my head. "I'm alright."
"You sure?"
I nodded, leaning over to talk to him. "These people are really nice."
He grinned. "Maybe you should take my advice more often."
I scoffed, leaning a bit closer to his ear. "Don't get your hopes up, Catton."
"Can't blame a guy for trying."
I leaned back again, looking at the rest of the table. If this was the company that I could expect when I went out for the night, then I could see myself getting used to this kind of thing.
Maybe I could adjust to Felix's world a bit easier than I assumed.
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