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historiaxvanserra · 8 days

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You Fall On Me Like Night | A Prequel to All That Is Dark

Pairing: Azriel x Rhys'Sister!Reader

Summary: In the wake of your engagement to the Heir of Spring Azriel makes one final bid to make you his. But, as is the way of things, his devotion comes at much too high a cost.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: not much really, discussions of oppression of the Illyrian's and using women as political pawns, forbidden romance and threat of violence.

This technically is part of the Az x Rhys!Sister (Solas is her nickname) universe which takes place before she is killed by Tamlin's family but can be read as a standalone fic! This is also a repost of a fic I took down a few weeks ago because I decided it wasn't very good.

The moon wanes languidly in the sky above Velaris and the heavens are cast in a shroud of opal that reflects on the surface of the sidra like spider silk; incandescent and gossamer thin. From this height Ramiel’s long shadows sink into the depths of the city below the House of Wind until Velaris is saturated in a darkness so deep that even Azriel’s shadows bend it. They whisper to you in the old language, so mournful and ancient, that only Azriel himself might infer some meaning from their song. You think he must have been born on a night like this. When the world is soaked in the hues of night; all onyx and obsidian as it bleeds across the sky until it reigns over the valley like tendrils of shadow, smothering all in its wake save for the silver starlight that pierces the veil of the black each night.

The light and the dark bound together as you and he might be.

The sounds of the wraiths as they work draws your mind from the darkness that plagues the city below and into the heart of your apartments in your father’s residence atop the crimson mountain that flanks the city of starlight. Nuala and Crrewidden look like the personification of shadow as they move throughout your rooms; each dressed in Night court black and adorned in dark jewels and beads that refract in the white light from the lanterns that hang on the dark stone walls. In their wake they leave the smell of smoked oak and juniper.

“Come, Princess.” Nuala beckons you to come and sit at the vanity table as she takes your comb in her slender hands, Nuala runs a smooth line down the lengths of your hair as she speaks to you again, in a voice rich and comforting.

“The High Lord will be here for you soon.”

In the reflections of your rooms you see Crewwiden as she works. Diligently, adjusting the beautifully crafted garment that lay haphazardly on your bed so that it drapes over the comforter in a swathe of onyx silk. Nuala’s steady fingers press into the base of your skull as she pins your unbound hair up in style reminiscent of a crown. Braid laid over braid until it forms a dark diadem around the crown of your head. The wraith's slender fingers work intricate crystal pins into the center of each braid so that their many faces refract in the flickering fae-light.

You wear those braids like armor that they might protect you against the dark brutality of the night ahead.

“I had hoped he might have waited a little longer before selling me off.” You say with exasperation evident in your voice. The wraiths share an apprehensive look between them as you angrily run your fingers over the taut lines of your body as the midnight silk drapes over every curve and divot of your form. Its skirts are long and dusted with starlight so glitters silver and black under the light, the bodice itself embroidered with silver lace along the bust line and a line of onyx that curve over the swell of your breasts. It is the first time you’ve ever worn a garment so exquisite. A dress fit for a Lady of the Night Court. You think perhaps it is by design. A reminder of all that you are. All that you are expected to be.The obedient daughter to a capricious king and should the night go as your father had planned, the dutiful and docile wife to some scheming young Lord.

“You are a Princess of The Night Court.” Nuala tells you, her voice stern and slow. The crease in her forehead deepens as two slender brows draw tightly together as you select a cerulean necklace from your jewelry box, “It is your duty to be wed.”

You don’t want that to be your fate -- sold to the highest bidder -- forced to live under his hardened gaze until all the light has bled from you and all that is left is a terrible darkness from which you will never escape.

“Not if Azriel has anything to say about it.” You counter, your traitorous heart beating wildly in your chest as you meet Nuala’s hardened gaze. Your fingers tangle in the chain of the necklace that Azriel had given you last Solstice. When the light refracts and bends it bleeds into the shadows of the world beyond, it dapples the darkness like a thousand tiny stars until they are bound together eternally.

As you and he are.

“The Shadowsinger is a good male but from this, not even he cannot save you.” The wraith asserts. Her fingers find the clasp of the necklace and set it in place over your heart. Nuala has always been the pragmatic one, in another life she would have made a fine diplomat you think.

“Marriages are an important political process and from that you are not exempt, Princess.” She reminds you again.

“The Spring boy is your mate, is he not?” In the reflection of your vanity you see Cerridwen approach her sister and look longingly at your image in the glass. The makeup she had selected compliments your attire beautifully; dark kohl smudged along the outer corners of your eyes give you an almost feline grace and the rouge she had used on your lips and cheeks had come as a gift from the Heir of Spring himself.

“And beautiful by all accounts.” Cerridwen says, smiling wickedly.

“A fine knight.” Nuala adds, her slender fingers curving round an exposed shoulder and smiling encouragingly in an attempt to dissuade you from your misery.

“You could do a lot worse.” They agree, trading sly smirks in the reflection of the mirror.

You think of the Male to whom you have been promised; Heir to the Spring Court painted in the colors of the first light. Golden hair the color of Velaris at dawn, eyes that glitter like star flecked pools of sapphire and his skin, white as the snow capped mountains that flank the city glows all incandescent like spider silk in the warm light. He could be your home, you think.

But then you think of the Azriel; your dark star, cut from the dark stone of the Illyrian mountains. Dark and lethal. With a voice that cuts like the draw of Illyrian steel, and the words that you draw from him, whispered in the darkness of the night, spoken in the old tongue. Like secrets shared between lovers. His onyx curls that frame dark eyes, like the sacred soil on which you were both born. He is your home.

And for all his darkness you love him anyway.

“But I don’t love him,” The words are uttered with a deep sorrow and you feel all the light leave your body when the door to your apartments open, spelling your undoing.

“Love has very little to do with it I’m afraid, little star.” It is your mothers voice that permeates the morose atmosphere that has enveloped the room. She looks so very lovely in the light of Velaris.

Your mother and the Lady of the Night Court is a dark beauty; with onyx curls that fall about her strong shoulders and eyes the color of the sun-dappled earth of the Illyrian wilderness. With golden brown skin that glows bronze in the warm light and dark wings that sit high on her shoulders. She wears that darkness well. Like she was born from it. Because in a way she was; the Night Court might be her home now, but she is an Illyrian. Made from the same steel, carved from the same mountain stone, raised in the shadows of Ramiel.

To be brutal and beautiful.

The wraiths take that as their leave to go about their duties.

“Mother, I--” You fumble with the words under the weight of her concerned stare.

“Your father has ordered Azriel to stay in Illyria tonight,” Your mother says empathetically, striding into the room and taking you in her arms, sinking to her knees before you.

“He will not come for you, My love.” Her voice is soft and reverent as she strokes a gentle hand over your hair, cradling your head in her hands as she had done when you were a child. As if shielding you from the revelation.

You know it is true.

“I love him. I would choose him, always.” The words are whispered in reverence like a vow. To any deity who would listen. Even as children you and he had been drawn to one another. Born from the same star, she used to say.

“Sometimes we do not get a choice, my love,” Your mother sighs deeply, almost wistfully, as if she herself is recalling her own great love. She takes your chin in her gentle hands and commands your gaze, and you fall into the depths of those eyes.

“It will pass -- in time.” You see something dark that pools in the glassy depths of her eyes. It is something akin to rage; violent and brutal, bitter in ways that you scarcely understand. There is regret too. Grief even. For the life she had to give up. For the love you will have to forsake.

“N-no, I love him,” The words are strained in your throat, coming out as a plea, a strangled cry that makes your mothers heart lurch. She presses tender kisses to your hairline as her hands brush away the tears as they begin to gather in your eyes, “In this life and every life after.”

You repeat those words as Azriel had. A vow he made solemnly, in sight of the Old Gods.

“Love like that is hard,” Your mother reasons, “You would have to give up everything and everyone else.” She says it with a pained edge to her voice. As though she would be prepared to let you go if it is what you truly wanted.

“We would have each other.” It’s a little indignant and immature but the hours pass ever swiftly and your world feels as though it is closing in on your with every passing second.

“Y’know, if I were a male,” You muse, full of wrath and envy, as you dry the tears that stain your cheeks, “Father would be content for me to fuck and fight until the mountains come down around us.”

Your mothers laughter rings in your ears like birdsong.

A reminder that you and she bear the same rebellious heart.

“Well fortunately for us all,” Your father’s voice drifts in on a night-chilled mist, the lovely velvet tenor tainted with the sharp edges of his ire, “you are not a male and Ramiel doesn’t seem to be going anywhere soon.”

From the fleeting darkness your father emerges.

“Father--” You greet sucking in a sharp breath, smoothing the skirts of your dress reflexively as he approaches you.

“Fenrir.” Your parents regard each other in that moment and the air grows frigid. Like a collision of rage and wrath, a war fought in the eyes as they begin to speak mind to mind. The echoes of their argument reaches you in those moments, fleeting words caught on the wind.

The High Lord of Night looks like Night personified as he steps into the shadowed light; The lengths of his dark onyx hair are tousled to perfection, and his lustrous curls fall away from his pointed ears to frame his face. His nose is straight and aquiline; with a rugged sort of gracefulness, and his skin, though lighter than your own, looks as though it is wreathed in starlight.

“You look beautiful, my star.” Your father says fondly; his eyes shine the color of moondust that reigns from the sky on Starfall each year. A strange gray hue saturated in a luminous amethyst that sparkles with dark promise.

“Just like your mother.” The words weigh heavily on you and you suspect that they have a deeper meaning when your eyes meet your fathers own glinting amethyst gaze.

“Dry those tears, girl, we have a ball to attend.” Your father approaches you with a feline grace, stalks towards you and holds you in his embrace. The way he holds you is possessive like a wolf; ravenous and hungry, clawing at you. You know better than to fight it. He presses a fervent kiss to your temple as he pulls back so he can look at you, tucking a strand of hair and tucking it behind your ear with an air of false affection. His cold fingers linger on the cut cerulean as it rests over your heart, turning it over in his fingers he purses his lips into a terse smile.

The High Lord of Night holds you in his bruising grip and with a few parting words with your mother you are gone; in ribbons of shadow and smoke you are enveloped into the black.

The darkness between worlds.

As you emerge from the ether you see that the antechamber of the Moonstone Palace is shrouded in darkness; convalescing into columns of shadowed light as you winnow into The Court of Nightmares. The smell of pomegranate wine and wisteria shades the air in an earthy musk reminiscent of the Illyrian wilderness. It brings with it a hirearth; a longing for a home you cannot return to.

A home you might never see again.

The wrought iron doors yawn open to reveal the throne room of the Moonstone Palace. The high onyx ceilings held in place by dark stone pillars -- cut from the mountain itself -- are wreathed with garlands of moonflowers and night blooming ivy, all dappled with violet foxglove blooms. The high-arching sounds of lyres and harps bleed into a sharp staccato as The High Lord of Night enters on a night-chilled mist. The courtiers, who look as though they are shaded in the colours of twilight, part like the tide as your father paces the length of the aisle with you, a frightened child at his heels.

As you approach the emerald dias you are greeted by the sight of your brothers, flanking either side of your father’s throne. Rhysand is already making eyes at one of Lord Selwyn’s many daughters but when Cassian sees you he smiles so brightly that you think the female in question might have been swayed away from Rhys altogether.

“Cass!” You say excitedly, forgetting for a moment the unfortunate reality of tonight’s ball as you fall into step with your brothers on the edge of the dias. Your father eyes the interaction carefully discerning if your brothers might be trusted to keep you safe and obedient for the night so that he might entertain his Lords and the visiting emissaries sent from Spring to oversee the betrothal negotiations.

Your father dons a strange dark visage on Night’s like this. Far from the man he is in Velaris. He had always been cruel and cold, calculating in so many ways. But here, in the cold light of Hewn City he is something else entirely; barbaric and bestial. Best not to dwell on it too much. Instead you turn to Cassian and pull him into the throng of courtiers as the music drifts into a high-spirited dance you know well from your days in tutoring.

“Sister, don’t you clean up nice, afterall.” Cassian wraps you in his arms and you relax into him. Inhaling his scent; juniper and pine, cut with something almost musky. Cassian carries Illyria in his veins in a way that feels kindred to you.

“You aren’t afraid of a little competition are you?” You ask, eyeing him in his formal attire. His hair is shorter and pushed back, away from his face. Your thumb trails the line of a faded scar that sits above his dark brows. It makes him look more rugged, at least that is what you had said when he sat across the table from you nursing a sour look after Azriel had given him it in training.

That had been so long ago now.

“He has plenty of competition, already” Rhysand’s cool tenor chimes in, his violet eyes alight with mirth as Cassian offers him a scathing look, “believe me.”

Rhysand offers you a brotherly embrace, running a hand down your back in an effort to comfort you and calm the rage he no doubt feels swarming beneath the surface.

“You’re just jealous of my rugged good looks.” Cassian counters and Rhysand laughs, drinking deeply from his wine before sauntering into the crowd, where the ladies of the court seem to flock to him.

Like a moth to the flame.

Cassian grunts his disapproval when Lord Selwyns daughter finally approaches Rhysand, batting her long lashes and flashing him a sweet smile.

“That’s the last you’ll see of him tonight,” You say, taking Cassian’s arm so it loops around your own and leading him into a slow dance as the orchestra begin to play. The sounds of their lyres and harps a beautiful symphony.

“Come, dance with your sister.” Cassian has no choice but to oblige when you look at him so sweetly and smile until you see his resolve break. He never did have the heart to deny you. You and Cassian take to the floor and one dance bleeds into three and by the time the harps play again you’re both heaving for breath and your laughter breaks apart in your mouth.

The wrought iron gates of the throne room yawn open and on a night chilled mist a figure emerges; veiled in shadows and dressed all in black. He looks like the image of some ancient deity. Some cruel God of death.

Azriel.

Azriel is beautiful in the way darkness might be; as though he was born from some dark star. Carved from the infernal stone of Ramiel. Beautiful with a strange brutality to him that speaks to the innate darkness that lurks beneath his skin. He is the darkness from which all light is born, and you are the lone star in his vast, black abyss. He looks at home here, in the cruel light of Hewn City; a nightmare personified as he enters through the awning iron gates. Like the wicked Prince of hell. Dark wings and dark words, come to claim you as his. His signature subtle smirk spreads across his lips like a taunt when he makes eye contact with Rhysand as he stands on the dias. In these indulgent moments, you think that he is the only thing in this world worth looking at. His onyx hair is tousled purposely, the longer strands of hair curling away from his face and you want to reach out and touch him. If only for a moment. If only one last time.

“May I, Brother?” Azriel’s voice like cold death ripples its way down your spine. Dark and laden with the weight of the world as it rests on his shoulders.

He looks like darkness personified. All dark winged and saturated in shadows as he stalks through the dancing tide. He looks so at home there; in the cold light of Hewn City. The shadows cling to him as he advances, a feral glint in his hazel eyes when he sees your wrapped in Cassian’s secure hold.

“What are you doing, brother?” Cassian snarls in warning. He does not falter. Only wades further into the sea of dancing courtiers. Cassian advances then, siphons waning and flaring; the cataclysmic union of ruby and cerulean until it casts you in a lavender haze. He and Azriel stand for a moment as they are, neither daring to acquiesce to the other. Cassian concedes, his large comforting hand falling from your hip to his side. Something passes between them then, a taunt and a warning, uttered in anger, made with love. You offer Cassian the ghost of a smile as he passes, a gentle caress of his hand as he slips from you into the moving tide of dancing bodies.

In his place, Azriel stands. Stoic and statuesque. Infernal and angelic as he towers over you. Wreathed in the shadowed light. He speaks to you in the old language of your homeland. Words so ancient, spoken in a language half-dead that only you and he might infer some meaning from those words exchanged sharply as the world falls away from you both.

“Solas,” Azriel’s voice strains under the weight of your name he had given you. Uttered with such reverence and sorrow as he takes your hand in his own. “Is this truly what you want? Is he?”

The crease in his brow deepens and hazel eyes go dark.

His is a darkness you could lose yourself in.

Like the darkness at the end of the world.

“What I want is of very little consequence to anyone that matters.”Azriel’s arm wraps around your waist possessively. He touches you with an ardor that you have never known. To be held in such reverence. In such contempt. It’s a strange juxtaposition. The feeling of scarred fingertips as they map the brutal line of your spine. Azriel leans into the orchestral beat of the music, moving with a predatory grace. He commands your body like it is one of his shadows. It bends to him as light bends to the dark.

“I will ask you again; do you love him?” Azriel’s voice is cold. Lethal. As he assesses you for any sign of weakness.

“He is a good male -- a fine knight,” You reason with him, parroting the words the wraiths had spoken to you in the safety of your room in Velaris. Azriel offers you a cruel laugh in response and you feel your resolve begin to wane. “He is my mate.” The words are whispered petulantly. Azriel’s cruel laugh reverberates through your chest.

“You don’t love him, Solas.” Azriel’s voice does not waver and you know by the glint in his eye that there is no denying it.

“Love has very little to do with it, or so I am told.” You muse bitterly and Azriel recoils from you; the darkness in your eyes unlike anything he has ever seen.

“I know he is your mate and that I do not deser--”

“So that is your purpose for coming here?” You seethe, a broken laugh sounds in your heaving chest when you place your hand over his heart as you struggle against his bruising grip. He holds you tighter still. As if you might fall through his fingers like you are nothing more than stardust and light.

As if when you are gone from him, all the light leaves him. And he is alone in the darkness.

“Take me then -- I am not yet married.” You implore, offering yourself up to him again. A warning. A plea. Azriel’s fingers ghost the hollow of your throat, his teeth on the shell of your ear elicit a strangled groan from you in surrender.

“The hours pass so swiftly, Azriel,” you say breathily, the ghost of a taunt on your lips as they pass over him in the spaces between the seconds. “You are armed, yes?”

His fingers tangle in your hair and you bare the column of your throat to him.

“Yes.” Azriel’s breath is hot on your neck. His teeth graze over the pulse point in an errant movement; all teeth and tongue as if he might tear it open just to taste you one last time. Your delicate hand traces the graceful curve of his spine, following the line of his body to rest on the hilt of Truth Teller as it rests on his hip.

“So take me,” Through darkened lashes his eyes find yours. Onyx streaked with bronze and topaz, flecked with gold and dappled emerald. In their depths you find your home. Him who is cut from the mountain stone and painted the color of the Illyrian wilderness. He had always been your home.

It’s an impossible ask, this much you know. He would have to forsake all else; his honor, his home, his faith, his family. So you resign yourself to the reality that this will be your undoing.

“Cut through my father’s men, and my mate” The words themselves are loaded with dangerous tension as you cup his jaw, willing him to look at you.

From your spot in the middle of the dance floor you dare to look up to the emerald dias, through the haze of incense smoke you see the faces of The High Lord and his council, each saturated in their own shade of ire. The music swells and dies. Each stabbing note is like a tightening coil as your circle one another as the dance draws to its close. Your body bends to his and his dark wings offer you a reprieve from the prying eyes of the court.

You and Azriel; intertwined as shadow and light are.

“Take me to Illyria and claim me as your wife.” for a brief moment you abandon yourself to the thought. Azriel looses a shaky breath, his beautiful eyes lined silver.

“You know why I can’t do that.” Azriel growls, his voice dangerously low and his grip on your hip like a vice. His voice breaks and breathing ceases and you feel the moment his hold on your softens. Like he is confronted with the cruel reality that this must be goodbye.

“You know that if I could have chosen anyone, it would have been you.” The words are uttered against the skin of his cheek as you press your lips to his face once more as your tears begin to fall.

“I know.” Azriel resigns himself to your joined fate finally.

“Then release me.” Your fingers curl around the fabric of his shirt again, willing him to hold you close, even in the knowing that he must let you go, “please.” The plea comes out broken and bleeds into a sob. It takes every bit of strength in you to unfurl yourself from him and put some distance between your body and his.

“Promise me something?”Azriel whispers solemnly as he presses close again, his lips ghosting over the skin of your knuckles. A fervent parting kiss as his eyes find yours once more.

“Anything” You say, half-breathless as he finally releases you from his tender hold.

“That you and I will find each other in the next life.”

“And every life after.” You repeat it like a vow, whispered into scarred skin until Azriel finds the strength to part from you.

It is your father’s wicked stare that eventually pries you apart from him for the last time.

The next time Azriel holds you is deep in the wilds of Illyria; wrapped in his shadows while he whispers solemn vows into your skin as body grows cold.

#acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar

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fromforeigntofamiliarity · 2 years

Note

Homelander saving a blind!fem!reader (she's not totally blind, she just see a very very very color blurred and she can't see peoples face at all) from being assaulted? And he just fell in love w her and well... Homelander is Homelander (or in other words, start an obssesion w her and stalks her)???

Sorry for my awful english, im trying haha :(((

Warning: none

Requested: yeppers, I love requests 🥰😍😘

Landing at the scene of the crime in progress Homelander lets go of Maeve once both her feet were secure on the ground Black Noir appeared next to him almost out of nowhere as A-Train came to a halt with him Starlight and the deep.

Vought thought it would be great promo for the newest 'Seven' movie if the team was seen working...well as a team.

"What's the situation?" Maeve asked walking up to the group of officers.

"Apparently one of the patients of this shrink is holding her hostage in there." One of the cops answered. "Her assistant called the cops after she heard yelling and a gun shot."

The assistant in question came rushing towards the supes, tears streaming down her face. "Oh my god you have to help her," She cried. "He has her in there and these pigs are just standing around."

"Hey!" One of the cops yelled. Maeve put her arm around the women and pulled her closer to the team while glaring that the police officer.

"Okay I'm gonna need you to tell us everything you know." Maeve smiled.

"My boss Dr. Y/N L/N one of her patents Greg...J-Juniper, I don't know exactly what's wrong with him but I've heard him a couple of time bitching about his wife leaving him or something." She explained a glare having taken over her tear stained face. "That son of bitch if he hurts her-."

"I'm sure Dr. L/N will be fine," Starlight steps in. "Is there anything else we should know?"

"She's blind," The assistant informed. "Well not all the way blind but she can't see thing well just 'moving blob of color' or at least that what she calls it."

"Alright ma'am thank you so much for all your help you have been so brave." Homelander steps in showing off his pearly whites.

He was beyond done with this whole situation, a hostage, a literal hostage not even hostages. This was the big mission that needed all "The Seven'? There couldn't have been an orphanage on fire or some shit."

He was going to be having a long talk with someone when he got back to Vought.

"Okay A-Train," Homelander called prompting the speedster to approach him, hands on his hips a charming smile on his face as onlookers snapped pics. "I'm gonna need you to use your speed and disarm the suspect."

"You got it boss." He replied with a small nod.

Lowering his voice Homelander placed a hand on his shoulder speaking through his fake smile. "And if you could do that without popping anyone like a fucking balloon that would be great." He finished with a small pat on his shoulder. "Noir and I will have your six." He said, once again raising his voice to reach the ears of the public.

The three supes entered the front lobby of the therapist office seeing movement behind the opaque double doors that lead into the office.

Alright lets get this over with," Homelander states once the doors connecting them to the outside world had finally slammed shut. "Noir bag 'em and tag 'em."

As instructed A-Train sped through the door of the office, running over and snatching the gun from the patients hand. not long after Noir was yanking the man down to the ground before tying his hand behind his back.

Still having a grip on Y/N when all this happened cause he to also be yanked to the ground.

Walking slowly over to the women Homelander looks down at her as she looks around the room while slowly attempting to stand on her feet.

"It's alright now ma'am," Homelander said causing her head to snap toward him. "We're gonna get you out of here." Placing his hand around her waist he moves to grab her legs only for her to step away upon feeling his hands touch the back of her knee.

"That won't be necessary ." She said with a small frown. "I may not be able to see that well I can walk."

"Of course you can." Homelander replied sending her a small smile only after realizing she probably couldn't see it.

Keeping his hand around her waist he guided her out the front door of the building Noir and A-Train following close behind Noir with the patent and A-Train holding the gun like some sort of trophy.

As soon as they stepped out the crowd burst into cheers, claps and snapping pictures.

"Y/N!" The assistant called out rushing forward. "Y/N, oh god are you okay? Are you hurt? Did that bitch hurt you?" She asked practically pulling her from out of Homelander's reach.

"I'm fine Jen," Y/N replied with a laugh as her assistant began twisting and turning her to check for injures. "Just a bit shaken up, I had no idea Greg was so far gone. There has to have been a stresser."

"No no don't make excuses for him." She scolded rolling her eyes locking eyes with the leader of the supe team. "Oh godness and you guys thank you so much, I don't know what I would have done if anything happened to her."

Homelander smiled at the show of gratitude from the women, especially while the camera's were rolling, he couldn't have wrote it better himself. "There's no need to thank us ma'am, just doing our job."

"No, Jen is right," Y/N replied turning towards his voice. "I'm so thankful for what you've done for me."

After that the crowd began throwing 'questions' and snapping pictures, although Y/N couldn't see the best she most defiantly saw the flashing lights.

'Y/N Was there anything else going on between you and the assailant?'

'How does it feel to have been saved by 'The Seven'.'

'Do you fear that the suspect will come after you again if released?'

"Wow this is alot." Y/N said to the Homelander still in his place next to her. "It has to get a bit overwhelming at some point."

"Well you know, I can't complain." He brushed it off.

"Of course you can." She replied. "It doesn't matter what people think of you, you have the right to feel how you feel."

Looking down at the young women Homelander didn't know what to say. No one had ever told him that he should/could feel his feelings, because most of the time whenever he felt his feeling people died, mostly he was told he needed to suck it up and put on a bright face for the camera, for the people, for the ratings.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." She assured. "It'll be our little secret."

"Ma'am." A voice called as a hand is laid on her shoulder taking her attention away from him, he didn't like that. "We'd just like to make sure everything is okay." Looking over to the person Homelander finds a paramedic.

"Oh I'm really fine." Y/N starts to protest only to be cut off.

"Nope, you're letting them take a look at you." 'Jen' the assistant insisted.

"Fine fine." She said holding her hands up in mock surrender. "Thank you again." She said before she was led away throw the crowd towards the ambulance.

*-*-*

On her way to work the next week Y/N was more exited than she ever had been, after spending the rest of the week listening to music and podcasts, returning to work seemed like a dream come true though that thought would probably change as soon as she got there.

Stopping abruptly Y/N took a few steps back as her body connected with another.

"I'm so sorry." She apologized to the blue blob that was standing in front of her.

"It's quite alright." The figure replied. "It's good to see you again Dr. L/N."

"Homelander?" Y/N asked tilting her head a bit.

"Guilty," The blonde supe replied. "I was just flying by and I happened to see you and thought I should check in to see how things were going." He lied.

The truth was Homelander had been watching her every spear moment he got, telling himself it was only to make sure she was safe, he watched her listen to her music and podcasts half the time wondering what her fascination with SCP files were the other half worried that she was going to bump into something, trip and crack her head open. He had to be there to make sure she was safe.

She could barely fucking see of course she couldn't take care of herself, despite watching her do just that Homelander had convinced himself that it was his job to take care of her that she wanted him to take care of her, she was just too prideful to ask seeing that it was her job to help people not ask for help.

"That's very kind of you," Y/N complemented. "I was actually just on my way to work."

"You're going back to work already?" Homelander asked with a frown. "Don't you think it's a bit too soon?"

"Not soon enough I was getting a bit stir-crazy stuck at home all day." She laughed. "Speaking of which I have an early appointment and I really have to get going." She said giving a small nod before heading off towards the office.

An appointment with another person who could be just as crazy as Greg, someone that could walk right in past that fucking airhead Jen and do god know what to her.

Watching her walk down the street Homelander could feel himself becoming more and more frustrated as he couldn't think of a way to keep her from going to the office, at least not today.

*-*-*

"Knock knock." Y/N heard as she sat her desk eating her lunch when she hear the door open.

"Homelander." She replied as he walked towards her desk.

"You've memorized my voice." He notes a smile stretching across his face.

"Yep, one of my mini talents." She joked. "what can I do for you?" She asked wondering what had prompted her second encounter with the supe.

"Is that all you're having for lunch?" He asked looking at the single skinless orange in her hand.

"Yeah I was too lazy to think of things to eat and Jen gave me this orange so..."

"Hmmm." Squinting his eyes not really liking her answer. "What a lovely office space you have here. If you don't mind me asking, Do you own it?"

"Oh no, this used to be an accounts office and after he retired he put the space up for rent." She answered placing a slice of orange in her mouth. "I've been renting it for about two years."

"An accountant?" Homelander pressed in hopes of getting the answer he was looking for.

"Yes, Mr. Kline." She smiles at the thought of the sweet old man. "Says once he has enough money he'd sell me the building and buy a nice little farm house for him and his wife, not really a fan of the big city anymore." She explained. A soft chime rang though the room before Y/N quickly reached for her phone and tapped the screen.

"Break times over." She sighed.

*-*-*

It took three weeks! Three fucking weeks to get that old bastard to sell the office space that he rented to Y/N to Vought for a more than generous amount.

Soon Jen would so up to the office only to find the locks have been changed, she'll try to call Mr. Kline to find out what's going on but his phone will have been disconnected. Y/N will show up and Jen will frantically read her the letter that was slid in between the crack of the door, informing them that it would be in their best interest to come to Vought Tower.

"Homelander Sir." The Vought employee entered the meeting room. "I was told to inform you when anyone came asking about the office space...someone came...about the office space." he stated nervously.

"Send them up."

Homelander watched as the two women entered the room cautiously arms looped together as if someone would try to pry them apart.

"Y/N." Homelander greeted cheerfully with a bright smile. "I'm go glad you could make it."

"I'm sorry I don't think I can say the same." She replied frowning in his direction. "You bought my office space and changed the locks? Why would you do that? Did I do something...something to make you upset with me?" She asked shaking her head slightly in disappointment.

"No no of course not," He denied. "Please have a seat and I will explain everything." Jen led Y/N over to the pair of seat closest to Homelander.

"I know I should have talked about this with you before but I just couldn't get it out of my head." Homelander started. "I didn't grow up in the city, in fact I grew up in a small farm house, and once you told me about Mr. Kline I just knew I had to help-."

"Wait, you bought Mr. Kline his farmhouse?" Jen interrupted causing Homelander to clench his jaw in anger.

"Yes....Jennifer, as I was saying." He answered. "And Mr. Kline signed over the deed to the office space as long as I promised that you would be treated right."

"So I still have an office." Y/N sighed finally able now to relax a bit.

"Absolutely, though there are going to be a few changed in your rental agreement." Homelander stated pushing over a manila folder which was taken by Jen as she began reading along with him. "I noticed that your hours are Monday-Friday 7am to 7pm, a bit long don't you think?" Homelander asked rhetorically.

"No actually I th-."

"Monday-Wednesday 8am to 5pm will be the updates office hours." He continued ignoring Y/N attempt to respond. "All past, present and future clients will go though a mandatory background check before their next session. At least two Vought security agents will be monitoring the building during the newly stated business hours. A balanced lunch shall be provided and must be eaten within the mandated lunch hour."

"I don't need an hour for lu-."

"Farther more any patent seen as hostile, agitated or aggressive will be treats as a threat by the above listed Vought security agents. Failure to comply with said rule and regulations may result consequence varying from reduction of business hours to eviction."

"Eviction!" Y/N raised her voice for the first time, in Homelander's experience. "Excuse me for saying but this is ridiculous! You cut my business hours by more than half, my clients expect a certain amount of privacy when coming in for there session, they also expect not to be treated like criminals if they get agitated because if you haven't noticed I practice therapy and I have absolutely no clue what our eating habit have anything to do with renting us this building."

"There are other building in New York you know?" Jen spoke up. "I'm sure we can find another office."

"Not for nearly as low as you are paying now." Homelander rebuttals, turning his attention back to Y/N placing a hand on her shoulder. "Look I'm not trying to be the bad buy, this building is now an affiliate of Vought and therefore has to be held to a certain standard, in the future I'm sure some alterations can be made to some of the minor stipulations."

"Minor." Y/N scoffs.

"Look everyone is a bit on edge right now, how about we give it a few hours and you can decide what you are comfortable with and we can talk about we can be changed." Homelander offered. "What do you say...tonight, I'll pick you up at around 8:00 and we can discuss over dinner?"

Taking a few moments to think Y/N nodded her head before answering. "Fine."

"Great." Homelander smiles. "I don't know about you but think this is the start to a beautiful relationship."

#the boys imagine #the boys #homelander x reader #homelander imagine #the boys x reader #masterlist

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shewhowas39 · 1 month

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here's the master list of my baldur's gate 3 fic and other related stuff. there's not much justyet, but i expect it to grow because this fuckin' game has eaten my soul and my brain.

JUNIPER & STARLIGHT

Main Fic Juniper & Starlight - a durgestarion longfic, in which June, a divination wizard, is losing her grip on reality. she can see through Astarion's bullshit when he starts to flirt with her, but she soon discovers that being close to him might be the only thing that keeps her sane. (romance, angst, horror-ish, eventual smut, will include other background ships later.)

One Shots Give Me a Minute to Hold My Girl - a standalone oneshot, set in act 3 of Juniper & Starlight, in which Astarion can tell June is struggling with her grip on reality and he knows how to help.... they fuck on Gortahs's desk. that's it. that's the plot. (smut, fluff, a little hurt/comfort, soft dom Astarion.)

Drabbles In The Cards: A BG3 Tarot-Inspired Drabble Collection: a random collection of drabbles inspired by random tarot card pulls, set in the Juniper & Starlight universe, but you don't have to read it to read these usually. i also post them an pictures of the cards i draw here on tumblr. (variety of genres and ships. check info at the top of each drabble/chapter for info.)

Playlists Chapter Playlist - featuring the songs each chapteris named after/has lyrics from

Junstarion vibes - just a bunh of songs that give me June x Astarion vibes

OTHER FIC

Welcome Home - tavstarion oneshot, in which tav (unnamed afab wizard) surprises Astarion with a gift to celebrate the one year anniversary of Cazador's destruction: a magnificent mansion spell. things get spicy their first night in their new magic house. (post-canon, smut, fluff, soft dom astarion, will likely be part of a short series)

also gotta link to @redraccoonart who did this amazing piece of June and Astarion for me. it's so beautiful i can't even take it.

#astarion bg3 #durgestarion #astarion x durge #astarion x oc #tavstarion #juniper & starlight

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evenmorefatallyobsessed · 7 months

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New Goal List for NEW Models

So first off, I officially finished my new years resolution from last year several months ago. And reached the models on the list I aimed to make. But obviously that hasn't stopped me from making even more.

So late Yay! Anyways as you all know I am now making My Little Pony Faunus Models too for Remnant. But that's actually been something I've been planing for months as well. I just wanted to test it and see if they'd be any good or well recived which Applejack very much was...

So yeah here's the new updated list involving them as well, also Eves been moved up cause Sun's Cousin kinda feels like a excuse to genderswap Sun so why not...

Note This list does not include (Incubitches or Succubitches) because those are not entirely new models but altered ones.

01.) Pearl Arc (Jaune's genius little sister)

02.) Applejack (MLP)

03.) Viola Arc (Youngest Sister)

04.) Pinkie Pie (MLP)

05.) Beryl Arc (Tomboy sister)

06.) Spike (MLP)

07.) Rarity (MLP)

08.) Livia & Lapis Arc (Arc Twins)

09.) Rainbow Dash (MLP)

10.) Rogue Arc (Oldest Sister)

11.) Juniper Arc (Mama Arc)

12.) Fluttershy (MLP)

13.) Twilight Sparkle (MLP)

14.) Eve Tarus

15.) Sunset Shimmer (MLP)

16.) Starr Sanzang (Sun's Cousin)

17.) Starlight Glimmer (MLP)

18.) Coco Adel

19.) Celestia (MLP)

20.) Nebula Violette

21.) Luna (MLP)

22.) Dew Gayl

23.) Apple Bloom (MLP)

24.) Gwen Darcy

25.) Sweetie Belle (MLP)

26.) Octavia Emher

27.) Scootaloo (MLP)

28.) Ann Greene (Beacon's Stealth & Security Teacher)

29.) Maud Pie (MLP)

30.) Iris Marilla (Second Year Bacon Student Fall Survior)

31.) Ember (MLP)

32.) Rowena Sunnybrook (Shade's Weapons Training Teacher)

33.) Trixie

34.) Xanthe Rumpole (Shade's History Teacher)

35). Gabby (MLP)

36.) Lisa Lavander

37.) Ember (MLP)

38.) Stella (Hei's Secretary)

39.) Aurelia (Neo's Teacher from the Book)

40.) Crocea Mors (Tsukumogami)

41.) Atlas Milfs (Jaune's Fanclub)

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juniper-simblr · 2 years

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[LOT DOWNLOAD] Starlight Lanes Bowling Alley! This is my 200th post and I wanted to actually do something special, and since I've gotten requests to share the floorplans for this lot in my Uberhood, I thought I would do that and actually share the lot.

Now, it's not actually the Starlight Lanes from my Uberhood. This one was built in a clean, empty neighborhood and I've tried to minimize the amount of CC included. Please be sure to use clean installer and check the CC list below the cut.

Here's the CC light version of Starlight Lanes. Basically, I removed the outdoor CC and bathroom CC. Other than that, It's pretty much identical to the one in my Uberhood. :)

CC included: - AutumnR's Fabricated Wall Light mesh + rec from this set - Cyclonesue's Alpine Window+Door from this set - Hafiseazale's Cactus Cantina sign from GoS - Linacherie's Brick Wall from this set - PF's Uranium EverGlow Uranium Rod add-on from this set - Pooklet's Edit of the MOG Shop Sign - Slig's Retro Diner recolour of MOG Shop Sign from this set - Poppet's On It Goes tiles in brown from this set - Veranka's Blocked Out Wall in yellow and brown from this set - Veranka's Bayside Plasmatron TV from this set - Juniper's Mid Century Modern Wallpapers (my own cc) CC NOT included: - Moune999's Torrox border (brown) from this set

Download: [SFS]

#ts2 download #ts2 lot download #ts2 build #sims2 download #ts2 #sims2

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argisthebulwark · 6 months

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Happy week one of @tescheer everyone!✨ This is fairly short since I'm still recovering from Nano, but I decided to write a little snippet with the first week's prompts Cloak and Snow :)

Starlight twinkled across the night sky, interrupted only by the white flakes as they drifted lazily toward the ground. The well worn footpath was long lost under gathering snowbanks. The Dragonborn's hands raised toward the heavens, fingertips growing numb after a long trek. Their mouth opened but found there were no words that could capture nature's beauty; snowflakes whirled in all directions and fell to blanket the silent plains of Whiterun. Trees bowed and swayed as snow gathered upon their branches, beasts silent and hiding from the late winter chill. They puffed out a cloudy breath and grinned up at the colors dancing over the horizon. For one brief moment they felt entirely alone in the universe. "You'll catch your death out here."

Vilkas grumbled from nearby, arms surely folded over his chest. They ignored his tone - he meant no harm. Turning to chastise him for ruining the moment they paused, taken aback by the sight. Vilkas' dark hair collected flecks of snow, soft brown eyes sweeping across the landscape. Chilly winds had left his lips pink and gloved hands tightened the fur lined cloak around his shoulders. Against a backdrop of pure white he stood prominent, a shadow contrasting the dreamy background. A gentle breeze stole away the fog of his breath and whipped hair out of his face, causing the Dragonborn's heart to thump against their ribs. He was beautiful. Bundled into his layers and brows furrowed, Vilkas looked stunning even as he stood ankle deep in snow. Despite all his grumping he'd insisted on accompanying them on their walk. Throughout his endless stream of snarky comments Vilkas had tied a scarf around their neck before tiptoeing out of Jorrvaskr. The Dragonborn stared at this man who seemed to care so deeply despite his endless protests and felt something swell deep in their chest. "What?" He barked, cheeks bright when his glare cut over to them. His gaze softened and the Dragonborn felt a thread between their hearts snap into place, a string tightening and drawing them closer. Snow crunched underfoot as they stomped to stand before Vilkas, unsure what they intended to say. "You're pretty." The Dragonborn watched a flash of color raise in his face, those brown eyes panning over the white hills once more. Vilkas cleared his throat as he pointedly avoided meeting their gaze but he did not move away. The Dragonborn's muscles tensed, awaiting whatever killing blow he intended to deal - his words were always especially cutting. They were stunned when he remained silent, gloved hands raising to the clasp of his cloak. In one quick flourish, fur and soft cloth was wrapped around their body. Vilkas focused intently as he pinned it in place around their throat, the supple leather of his gloves brushing against their jaw. The Dragonborn didn't speak as he worked, though something about the way their mingling breath formed a small cloud between them captured their heart. Snowflakes continued to gather in the gentle waves of his hair, one catching on his long lashes before he stepped back. "I told you to wear a coat." He chided, though the annoyance in his voice felt empty. Swathed in fur warmed by his body the Dragonborn couldn't help but feel cared for, his cloak wrapped neatly over their half buckled armor. It radiated the smells of home - smoke from the crackling fire in Jorrvaskr's main hall and a hint of juniper berries. The Dragonborn tucked their arms into Vilkas' cloak and, feeling just a tad daring, grasped blindly for his hand. He grumbled but accepted it, eventually allowing an arm around his middle as their legs grew tired. The Dragonborn didn't keep track of how long they remained out there, standing on one of the many hills surrounding Whiterun's outer walls. A fallen guard tower jutted up through the blanket of snow coating the plains and constellations danced overhead, watery moonlight playing across the land. It felt so simple to simply exist with him, allowing snow to gather around their boots and melt into their hair. The two returned to Jorrvaskr when the first rays of sunlight peeked across the horizon, painting the snowy lands in all shades of pink and yellow. Soon, children would begin waking and dragging their parents into the streets. Creatures would emerge from their cover in search of food and the stars would melt into the sky. Life would march on as it always had. Each year when the snow began to fall, the Dragonborn could not help but fondly recall that night spent gazing into the heavens with Vilkas. He was not a man of flowery words but had proven that he would always be there to chase away the cold.

#writing #skyrim #vilkas #vilkas x ldb #tescheer2023 #week one: cloak #week one: snow

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plumsaffron · 6 months

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On why people are so hard on Wallflower, I think part of it comes from how redemptions in EQG were starting to get repetitive around this time, with Juniper and Vignette in particular being seen as the worst among the villain redemptions with being too rushed.

Plus her motivation being seen as too weak. The face she only lashes out at Sunset for "ignoring her" does feel a bit weak considering how everyone else (Trixie clearly showed she ignores her all the time and even the nicer characters like Pinkie and Fluttershy still ignore and forget her) did the same thing, so why would Wallflower only be mad at Sunset specifically for that if everyone else did the same thing? I do think if they had sorta tweaked Wallflower's motivation from "You ignore me so I'm gonna ruin your friendships" to "You bullied and humiliated me so I'm gonna ruin your friendships", it'd probably be seen as a smoother backstory with less flak. And it is even hard to figure out how much of Wallflower's being ignored was the others' fault and how much was it self inflicted considering she states she always used the Memory Stone to wipe everyone's memories of her all the time so her being ignored is partially her own fault too.

Probably. Anyways though.

They're more of antagonists to me compared to First Movie Sunset, Principal Cinch, Filthy Rich and maybe KL and SZ. But whatever

Not even mad at Juniper Montage. Pinkie Pie but mostly Rainbow Dash were idiots who honestly had it coming. Like bruh did y'all remember what y'all did? Regardless of it being right and she getting what she deserved. You saw her face of contempt and later on y'all come to chat with her in the mall where she hears that annoying dance magic song haunting her. And the two basically rub it in their face her schemes got her to be an usher. Common sense machine broke (which is sad cause they've faced worse or other dangerous threats previously). The real problem though is that her ambition of a dream was taken away thanks to Sunset Shimmer and her friends was devolved into this maybe you actually want a friend by Starlight. They also ignore the part where Starlight Glimmer technically is the reason why the seven girls were about to fall into an endless void. Then Juniper Montage has to apologize first for some reason for some conflict they began to be like oh we forgive you. Like it should be the other around.

Vignette on the other is just an imbecile. I wouldn't say it was rushed for her either. She may be a scrub but she didn't know her go away device was actually like spawning people in a limited size container. She was pretty detached and didn't really have anything of friends.

I would go far as to say Supernova Zap and Kiwi Lollipop were just fugly as Abacus Cinch and Filthy Rich because Sunset didn't deserve to be time loop tormented because of some stupid Perfection Manure. Clowns didn't care and attempted to add a ban Sunset and Pinkie Pie interfering in their time loop to achieve their idea of perfection. They couldn't even like look for like another time in the dang future. 3 weeks of time torture for Sunset and they didn't care they wanted to continue til they go it right. Those dweebs had no purpose and didn't care who they were affecting. They only whined because their time loop was broken. Then they played a song with Sunset and Pinkie Pie. Now that is what rushed really is. And worse. It was not deserved at all. Heck I might even say First Movie Sunset going good suddenly feels rushed (though she's the only one who actually payed besides Montage but unlike her Twilight gives Sunset The Human 6 Pass. Thus meaning it would not be a start from scratch luck). Sometimes I'm juggling considering if Montage's was less artificial or even less rushed feeling than Sunset's ever but whatever.

Now onto Wallflower Blush. Some may wonder why doesn't she go after everyone else? Why is it Sunset? It's pretty simple if one remember what Sunset has done in the past and everything before being defeated. Like she changed but not everyone is going to simply be like I forgive you. Heck Sunset even hates how she used to be and doesn't want the past to haunt her. Songs included oof.

Wallflower, unlike everyone else, is seen as an anomaly. She wasn't as forgiving or conforming as everyone else simply because oh Sunset helped save them quad times so lets be friends now and forget. I mean that's nice but eh.

One must remember that Sunset is in association with popular girls or her defeaters. So that also makes things easier for her while also making Wallflower be like what is this crap?

However, imagine this. A person ruining you or others around you for a long time and now look they said sorry and now everyone is treating the biggest meanie well while they still proceed ignoring you entirely. Now look. Girl somehow is deemed best friends of the year with her main friends. Like no one else got this reward instead. Idk seems bias. They also didn't thank her for handing that to Sunset or rather Sunset herself at least.

The jerk rose to the top or rather she was at the top and honestly she immediately gets back at the top now that's she's good. Meanwhile you are at still in the same place. Bruh these ignorers now saluting a girl who tried to destroy a girl's way out and property and possessed y'all or us and almost destroyed her soon to be defeaters? And again all the other crap she's done (framing, threatening her pet (ugh I hate that they didn't make Spike The Dragon human), being a part of why Twilight's human world variants are no longer friends for a long time till Twilight fixed that. Fear, terror, using Flash as a means to rise, etc.) Like what kind of quick forgiveness nonsense is that? I'll say quick because all it really took was Dazzlings to be defeated in the second movie for the school instantly forgave her. Like Wallflower is definitely upset with all else. She did sing a song about it but it's just she sees Sunset as a root above all the rest. Why will be explained below somewhere.

So why not go after the jerk. There's no real difference with the others of before. Like Wallflower doesn't like that occurrence but Sunset thing can be viewed as unfair nonsense. Like imagine someone humiliating you and others for a long time, end up being the owner of your favorite products or is the mayor of your town and they just somehow stay winning oh and bonus; all those facing worse treatment or similar are now their best associates and they treat this jerk as awesomeness. Wallflower sees everyone as fooled by Sunset's change. She sees Sunset as fake but that will be explained somewhere below.

Anyways. What could be worse than a person causing terror upon the students and staff and making no one is able to rebel. And she had Snips and Snails as loyal followers to her cause. Well what if that people appear to have changed but now everyone is on her side and soon become dependent on her. And seeing her as all that. And having an iconic cast of friends thanks to Princess Twilight. To Wallflower it's like Sunset transcended from a disaster to everyone's dependency. The ultimate trick she could see that can be done by Sunset because it seems were fake to her how everyone else simply or quickly just let go.

So yeah I really don't think revenge upon a real jerk is a weak motive. I'd say Cinch Supernova Kiwi and Vignette Valencia are weaker than Wallflower's. (I'm excluding Juniper's because I feel what occurs between movie and mirror magic are too different to me (mostly cause they human six had that coming)).

Regardless it really doesn't matter if Wallflower's motive or reason is viewed as weak. I'll explain why it being deemed weak becomes a worthless take.

The thing that people tend to forget is the context, the situation, and the event. They choose when they want to claim something as weak but will ignore what I just said above. Her problem is Sunset. It was just the wrong place and the wrong time. Pretty much a ticking time bomb. What's consistent is her state of given up or feeling she has no value. People forget the part where Trixie indirectly helped reawaken the bad times with proof images on an old year book. It doesn't help that Sunset straight up forgot Wallflower was right there and shut the lights off on her. Like dude you bumped into Wallflower after singing your dang song when she's trying to get you attention for half the We've Come So Far song.

Anyways. Another thing is people fail to see things from Wallflower's side. And you know what else. It's clearly shown that Sunset is being the actual problematic one. So sad that I am unable to say that I'm surprised that it is ironically Invisible to many. Literally she's proving her right after times Wallflower was considering maybe she was wrong but nope Sunset just manages to not prove her wrong. Her actions against Wallflower aren't helping, but fulfilling how Wallflower sees herself and Sunset and others. You would think that there would be chance but somehow there's a lack of resonance or consideration still despite putting herself out there. Only to be once again Invisible or ignored and then threatened. And fools acting like Wallflower is the problem. BRUH, Sunset Shimmer is not helping. She was fulfilling. Trixie had to get Sunset to realize things but it was kind of too late and Sunset pays briefly. But as you know it ends after; Wallflower defeated Empathy Apologies Understanding Friendship blah blah blah

This is the tragic tale of when fandoms or viewers are too hero or protagonist side oriented. So much denial to the point of tricking themselves against another and the chances of seeing different are slim. It's even worse when another character canonically tells a protagonist to change your perspective but the viewer(s) like oh Antagonist must be bad they can't be actually right must find something to thrash them upon as a distraction. The protagonist or hero must always been right. I have to refuse to admit if they screwed up.

Be mindful that Wallflower Blush didn't erase the memories of everyone each time (well not known) until seeing Sunset again in Forgotten Friendship. She says only little things when she first found the memory stone. And eventually got used to it. However it's very vague. I doubt it was everyone anyways. The only time she erased everyone memories was the when she erased everyone's or her friends good memories of Sunset. You also see that she tends to bury it instead of merely keeping it all the time with her.

Again it doesn't matter if it was self inflicting as her being flat out ignored has been occurring for a long time before she ever found the stone. Here's something else. You'd think having a clean slate would make these people react different but it only showed no matter what, they would do the same thing to you or treat you the same. One could see it as it's them still. The Memory Stone unfortunately became a smokescreen meme template used for solely blaming Wallflower instead of realizing that she's been bound to the same fate with or without it. Like no one else changed their ways. Which is quite ironic considering they easily changed for Sunset.

How much of no difference of the memory stone being used is like Wallflower having the ability to ctrl z a person answering 2 + 2 as 22 but they somehow pick any number that isn't 4.

It's funny how memory stone gets claimed as an excuse to ignore all the crap that happened to Wallflower earlier because oh no now it's her fault. Let's ironically forget of everything else before. It's like oh you now put your hand in water after being dumped with hot water and you didn't know you were putting your hand there but earlier hot water keeps being dumped on your face for a long time but since you put your hand in water a few times or are used to it at times because you don't see a new day, everyone should ignore that you were always dumped with hot water on your face and it was going to happen regardless if you had your hand in water or not. It's your fault completely now for everything that the rest dumped on you.

This is the summit of what refusing to admit an antagonist can be actually screwed over does to a viewer. One must find an excuse to egg them. But you know what. Her being ignored by them is how many may do unfortunately.

The actual problem though is when Wallflower throwing herself out there and saying what's been going on with her. Everything is told and yet despite it all she was ignored. Much melancholic state already. Then imagine being grabbed and someone invaded and skimmed your memories and are acting like you are the problem after like you were considering maybe I was wrong about them because she lifted your mood up. Then her friend is like who are again? Like WHAT!? Then you put you went out your way tell what's been going on. All your feelings put out there and you discover the one who went into your memories is going through your bag. Really and asks what did I do to you I don't even know you. And then they prove you that it appears that they were a facade the whole time. HUH?! Now that's disrespect right there. Explain my life. PFT *SIGH MASSIVE* This is the real deal? Who the deemed as the best with her friends. So they are fooled by her it seems.

LOL!

Will say this. The self inflicted is not the memory stone. It's actually Wallflower staying in a toxic environment. Hmm that'd be nice. Leaving such. Still... Many don't know they could or might not be able too.

#Wallflower Blush #Sunset Shimmer #Trixie Lulamoon #Forgotten Friendship #Anti Equestria Girls Fandom #Anti MLP Fandom #Supernova Zap #Kiwi Lollipop #PostCrush #Juniper Montage #Vignette Valencia #Pinkie Pie #Wallflower #PlumSaffron #ask plumsaffron

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