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to6ge · 11 months

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Various atsv men x gn!reader

Pairing : Miles Morales, Pavitr Prabhakar, Miguel O Hara, Hobie x Gn!reader ( separate )

Summary : When they realize they fall in love with you and what they do to make them realize it

Mainly headcanons

Cw : None! This fanfiction is purely fluff

Gwen’s note : I dont know what to do for 100 likes special HAHA but maybe requests will be opened uppp, idk yet but most likely that. I got this idea from prompts I found.

Possible ATSV spoilers.

Pavitr was a dumbass when it came to love,, he didnt realize his own feelings. He constantly showered you with gifts and compliments, he would also be very touchy with you and he’d be hugging you almost every time he sees you if you’re comfortable with it! He would constantly talk about you to Hobie and Gwen, “Oh, you know? [Reader] is sooo cool, like oh my god? I’d like to live with them for my whole life! No-no, I’d love to! They are the absolute best and they’re so so stunning.. there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them!” he rambled about how cool you looked and how cool you were every time they spoke to each other, and when he does speak about you, Gwen and Hobie would just give each other looks and whisper how dense and how idiotic he is for not realizing his own feelings. He would constantly take you out to “hang outs” and he even introduced you to auntie Maya! And you immediately got along with auntie Maya. Then one day, Pavitr spoke to Gwen and Hobie nervously, “I think I like [reader]” then after he said that, he tells why and he could never stop talking about you. And Hobie just replied with “Congrats, you’re the last one to know!”

Miles realizes once he feels his heartbeat picking up speed when he has a conversation with you, even just a simple “Hi, Miles!” His heart feels like it was gonna explode. He doesn’t know when exactly to bring it up to you, but boy will this guy try to talk to you and stick to you every time. When he sees you, hes gets so nervous and can’t focus at all. He will never stop drawing you in his sketchbook, he’ll probably draw you two together and hang the drawing on his wall. He probably also non-stop talks about you. His parents probably know and he will always ask his mom and dad for advice on how to kinda get with you. “Mama, I kinda have a crush.. and I want to get with them but, I don't know how to!” he asked, “QUE?!!” He always made sure you were okay and you weren’t hurt if you got in trouble. He’d doubt that you like him unless you tell him like 5 times that you do like him!

Hobie probably just developed feelings for you midway, you had a great friendship with him and he just kinda started to develop feelings for you, once he realizes that he does like you, he’d wait for maybe around 2 days and drop out several hints like “G’day mate, wanna hang out? Call it a date,” and he’d wink or smirk after that, then he’d actually confess. I’m telling you, this man is bold as hell. He’d confess in the middle of a “hang out” and he’d be like “Y'know what, I like you, you’re stunning and I want to be yours,” and once you tell him you like him back, he’ll want to be with you all the time and he’d be practically glued to you. He’d wrap his arm around your shoulder all the time if he doesn’t wrap his arm around your shoulder, He’d wrap his arm around your waist! He’ll play a song for you, he’d always make sure you’re safe and unharmed. He’ll be there when you need it, he promises!

He’d smile around you, but Miguel would never notice he did till someone points it out. He’d just smile at you randomly till someone, most likely Hobie, Miles and Pavitr says “OOOH!!MIGUEL O’HARA IS SMILING!!!” and they’d shout that out loud. After they say that, Miguel would just frown like usual. He is unintentionally kinda touchy with you, like, he’d unconsciously touch your hand as a signal of “canwepleasepleasepleaseholdhands?” and whenever you both sit together somewhere, maybe on the sofa or something, he’d scoot a little closer to you. Hes wayyy more gentle, considerate and kinder with you, he’ll try his best to be calm around you. He would never ever try to hurt you, never. He cares about you a lot but he never realizes. Then he starts thinking about you, sometimes he’d even smile when he thinks about you. When he talks with other people like maybe Miles, he’d say [reader] instead of ‘Miles’ like “Hey [reader]” “What? my name’s Miles?” then Miguel would say “Oh I meant Miles,” ( no apology ). ( If you wear perfume / have a signature scent ) He’d smell you out of nowhere even though you’re not there, but he wished you were. And that’s when he realizes he’s so madly in love with you, when he starts thinking about you.

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babygirlispunk · 1 year

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Summer Fling - PART ONE

Pedro Pascal X f!Reader

Summary: living in a completely different hemisphere, you didn’t expect to bump into Pedro Pascal at a music festival.

Warnings: 18+, mentions of alcohol

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: Reader is not physically or ethnically described but is Australian. Honestly inspired by my own summer romance I experienced when I was younger with a guy who happened to be Latino lol. This is just quickly written to get over my jitters and get confidence to post other stuff SO ITS PROBALY A BIT MESSY SORRY.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

The ground is vibrating beneath you feet, your ears are ringing from hours of listening to loud music for days. The temperature has cooled down from the summer sun with the night sky. Bodies glisten with sweat, dancing in the crowded space as you're all harmoniously vibing and singing to RUFUS. Everyone's either drunk or high, sloppily hanging off one another or shouting aloud enthusiastically.

It's New Years Eve, 10 or so minutes from midnight. You can't believe your seeing one of your favourite bands live and an absolute banger of a song is playing right now and you can't help but raise your hands into the air and dance your heart out, shouting the lyrics not caring how scratchy your voice is from singing along with different singers and bands for the past 3 days.

You manage to hear your name being called out next to you. It's your best friend Syria. You two managed to lose the rest of your group when squeezing your way further to the front wanting to get into the heart of the crowd and the vibe.

She leans in closer so you can hear her over the pounding music. "I reckon we should get to the very front before midnight hits."

"Why don't we ask someone if we can sit on their shoulders?" you yell back.

You both look around to find any guy or girl that would be willing to hold you and Syria up but most people are already paired up or in groups leaving the creepy looking ones left that would probably feel you up.

Bodies keep dancing around you as you duck and weave your way through to the front. You quickly make it, motivated by the words 'You were right' booming from the speakers and the singer announcing that New Years is drawing in. As you emerge to your new spot you bump with some guy passing a quick sorry and turning your attention to the stage. Both happy with how close you are, you wrap your arm around Syria's shoulder and she wraps hers around your waist. You scream-sing, jumping up and down together getting hyped, probably sounding like squealing pigs, when you just hear a laugh next to you.

(Highly recommend listening to You Were Right - RUFUS DU SOL for the next part, for the vibe)

You look where it came from and connect with gorgeous chocolate brown eyes accessorised by glasses, paired with a wide cheesy grin framed by a scruffy, patchy beard and unkempt curly hair. He must've been the guy you bumped... Being polite, you smile back and turn back to the stage singing with Syria.

But it hits you like a brick wall and you double take. You look back to see the guy talking to their friend, up close as they talk into each others ears. Colourful lights bounce off him from the stage and you focus on his face, confirming who it is.

"Syria!" You hiss into her ear but she's too entranced by the music to notice so you give her a shake under your arm and gives you a 'what' face.

"You would not believe who is next to me!" She gives you a confused look then peeks in front of you to look at him, returning to face you with eyes as big as an owl.

Without wasting a breath she shoves you into his direction and you trip over yourself and bump into him again, basically landing on him but he ever so gracefully catches you, hooking his hands underneath your armpits.

"Woah there, had a bit too much to drink have we?" he chimes out loud.

You're embarrassed and can only blurt out a no.

"Sorry about that, those guys next to us knocked us over." Syria covers for you.

"Assholes." he looks at you, still held in his strong hands, smiling sweetly.

He brings you back to your feet and you turn around to say your thanks but your close. Really close. Face to face. Your eyes flicker at every point of his face, really soaking in every detail your buzzed out brain can retain till you land on his eyes. They're looking down at you're lips before they flick up and lock with yours. They're so deep and gorgeous, you could just dive and swim in them

"Thanks." you manage to say despite your heart is beating violently inside your ribcage. He winks back with a cheeky grin making you blush as you turn back to face the stage. The song keeps pumping around you and Syria is dancing and singing her little heart out.

He stands right besides you now and you can feel his hand brushing against your arm as you both dance on the spot. You can feel the goosebumps travelling up your arm as he keeps touching and nudging you. You can't help yourself but steal a glance at him only to see him doing the same, biting your lip, saving yourself from giggling like a little girl. That damn smile hasn't left his face.

The massive crowd surrounding you start screaming out the minute countdown and you join in trying to distract yourself from the closing proximity between the two of you. Try as you might, you still keep looking at him in the corner of your eye only to see him doing the same.

30 seconds left.

A hand gently glides around your waist followed by a body pressing against to your side sending a chill through your body and the butterflies are released, fluttering wildly in your stomach.

20 seconds left.

You look up at him, he's looking forward at the stage bobbing his head pretending like he isn't pulling your body towards him right now. He's clearly showing his interest, there's no point chickening out now.

You snake your hand underneath his loose tee and wrap your arm along his back, placing your hand on his hip using your thumb to caress the skin on his back.

He turns his gaze to you with a smirk on his face and squeezes his hand holding your waist making you gulp down.

10 seconds left.

He bends down so that his mouth grazes your ear ever so softly.

"I was wondering if you would be my new years kiss?"

He moves his face in front of yours, just a breath away, waiting for your answer.

"Are you sure?" was all you could manage.

"Why not start the year kissing a gorgeous girl?" he inches closer to you, nose tips brushing.

You're both breathing heavy, both of your eyes fliting between each others eyes and mouth. Breaths brushing each others skin.

You turn your bodies to face one another. Moving your arms around his neck, his hands not losing contact with your waist, squeezing your lower half closer to his, pelvis' coming in contact inciting a flutter down there.

The song drops and lips crash into one another, the impact cushioned by his plush lips, you feel euphoric. This all surreal even with Syria screaming her lungs out behind you along with cheers from the masses.

You feel the heat of fireworks and sparklers set off from the stage as everyone celebrates the new year but it doesn't compare to the fire burning inside you as he pulls you in tighter making your chests rub against each other as you two are hungrily trying to taste one another. He swipes his tongue along your lips as an invitation to deepen the kiss and you let him in immediately. As your tongues dance together, tasting each others choice of alcohol, you feel his nose tickle against your cheek.

Not wanting to pull away, you inhale and exhale through your nose and you are enveloped by his smell, his sweet musky smell. He is like a damn drug and you're already addicted. Wanting more you tangle your fingers through his hair, desperately trying to bring him in closer, deeper than physically possible.

You're becoming overwhelmed by it all that a moan slips out of you, passing though and exchanged to his lips. You try not to over think it but you feel a slight smile form on his lips as he devour you, returning the moan back for you to inhale. His hand drops to your ass, kneading them in his fists and pulling you even closer than you thought possible letting you grind up his hard rump forming underneath his thick jeans and your core slickens fast.

Not wanting let go but starving for oxygen, you eventually pull back, not letting go of your bodies. He is also out of breath, shoulders rising and falling rapidly.

“What’s your name?”

You say your name through shallow breaths and he repeats it after you. You feel excitement hearing him say it out aloud, making your own name sound like liquid gold oozing from his mouth. Still getting your breath back, be gently nudges his nose on yours, pecking you and not wanting to lose the space between you, eyes never leaving yours.

“Would you come back to my tent* with me? Get away from this crowd and prying eyes…” he says almost desperately asking as his lips keep pecking yours, knowing exactly what he’s really asking.

You nod in agreement and he smiles that sickly sweet smile. Moving his hands from your ass, he threads his hands into yours and turns to his small friend group speaking with each other. You then realise they had watched the little show you two had put on. Then you feel like something is missing.

Syria.

You look all around in the surrounding crowd of singing and dancing bodies but you can’t find her. She’s missing. Letting go of his hand, you continue looking around getting on your top toes, jumping to look over peoples heads. You call out her name but she’s no where to be seen. Every worse case scenario runs through your head. Your group made one rule to follow during this festival.

Never ditch your buddy.

A wide hand grips around your wrist, giving you a slight fright till you remember who it was connected to, following his body till your met with his puppy dog eyes.

“My friend is missing, I need to find her, make sure she’s okay.” You say frantically.

“Let me help you.”

“No no it’s okay.” There was no way you were going to drag an A-list celeb around massive festival grounds swarmed with thousands of people that could horde him, away from the safety of his own friends.

“Are you sure?” He brings you in closer wrapping his arms around your waist as if locking you to him and you hold onto his arms, getting a good feel of how toned they are. You look at his lips, swollen from your kiss, hungry for more but you had priorities…

Giving him one last kiss, you keep it sweet and simple, lingering there for a moment fighting the urge the stay. “It was nice meeting you Pedro.”

As you pull away he give you a sad smile to pair with his puppy eyes. Turning away, shattered your moment was cut short, you weave through the crowd looking for Syria.

You circle round the crazy crowd, desperately looking for Syria but to no avail. You whip out your phone fumbling fingers on the screen trying to call her. Reception on its last bar unsurprisingly but by some miracle she answers. You hear your name from the other side but it’s staticky and broken, repeating over and over again as you try to call her name on your end.

Barely making out the words over the static and loud music pounding around you before it eventually hangs up. You look at your screen, call failed.

You growl in frustration, till a hand grabs your shoulder. Twisting around hoping to see his face, you’re sadly met with your friend Joey.

“Hey we’ve been looking for you!” He yells over the music.

“I’ve been looking for Syria!” You yell back.

He rolls his eyes and grabs your hand and leads you.

Once you’ve reach the back of the crowd, the music is less rattling and people are more spread out, laying on the grass, too drunk or too high, you spot of friend group with Syria.

“There you are! I thought you were kidnapped or something.” You give her a big hug, relieved.

“Oh my God no! I spotted some of the group in the crowd and went to get them so they could witness you getting with your celeb crush!”

“I still don’t believe it. Could be a look alike” Huffs Joey.

“Well luckily I took a pic.” Syria proudly unlocks her phone and shows everyone the photo.

It’s blurry and all you can see is your back facing the camera with the top of Pedro’s head next to yours. The butterflies from before flutter again as you see he’s arm wrapped tight around your waist and his hand gripping your ass.

“Can’t see shit Syria.” Someone else says.

“Fuck off.” Syria shoves the person and turns her attention to you. “I’m sorry I ditched you. Didn’t mean to scare you and ruin your moment. Literally the one time it really mattered. Now you probably won't see him again.”

You give her a big hug knowing she didn’t ditch intentionally. “All good. Just glad knowing you're alive and not kidnapped by weirdos.”

“You hot bitch, you hooked up with Pedro fucking Pascal!” She squeals his name and jumping like an energized puppy, overly excited for you.

You laugh out loud, still not quite comprehending it actually happened despite your skin still hot from his touch, the tingle lingering below and your lips swollen from your intense pash. You bite your bottom lip, reminiscing.

“What a way to start the year.”

MASTERLIST - NEXT

check out my recs list for stories written by people with actual talent ♡

A/N: Multiple day festivals in Australia, typically, people camp at the festival site with tents, camper vans etc. and depending on the festival, they sometimes have the VIP tents with working facilities that cost an extra pretty penny AKA glampin' so he’s chilling in that 👍🏼

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal x female reader

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karoochui · 6 months

Note

What im hearing is:

Little crow feet outside my window bcs im feeding them- that’s besides the point!

Is there magic??? His shovel looks magic and they look magic

And do give me every detail you are thinking of for the series even if its in the distant future or not that relevant but you want to share

Crows!! Cute!! Also sorry i didnt get to this sooner my laptop BROKE (still broken but usable) and my mom and i have been looking for someone to fix it. Ive been drawing with it sparingly to be careful.

YES there is magic. Of course im still working on this storywise but im getting characters designs n whatnot done right now. Dynamics n stuff. BUT i do have some refs i made before my laptop broke.

I like to draw out certain stuff so that it helps with descriptions in the future; i have the worst memory so it helps to be able to do so. (More beneath cut)

Im so excited for moon's shadow form. Oh my god. Its probably my favorite thing right now.

Fun thing about it is that in this form he can touch you but you cant touch him. Something something you can be cast in shadow but you cant take it off yk? He's still light sensitive like this though, so if the area hes in isn't dark enough or he's hit with anything too bright he just reverts back. At that point he'd just have to rely on normal hand to hand stuff and his sand lol. The shadow form is just better for sneaking and speed. Really, he's some amalgamative idea of the sandman and boogieman. I thought it fit well with his whole "naptime attendant gone wrong" thing.

Sun's design, however, is more like if you mixed a cowboy, wizard, and gravedigger together. I made it a while ago on a whim with no intention behind it but then i ended up thinking "ykw would be so awesome".

The hat dips to cover the crescent side of his face (not intentional on his part) to symbolize his resentment towards moon and how he basically damned him to an hourglass. His eyes are easier to see bc of this which could seem more trusting (eyes are the window to the soul or whatever), but the thing is thats not normal for him (as we know) so it's meant to make him look suspicious and looming to 4th wall viewers. There's also the fact that i just thought it was cool too.

He also doesn't get a second form. Moon's sneaky and weird so i thought it would fit to give him some freaky thing iykwim. Sun, however, is a pretty "in your face" kinda guy, so his look and fight style is more extravagant and boisterous. Lots of swinging amd yelling and boom bang zap! Despite the showiness he's actually a longer range fighter. Mainly because unlike moon, thousands of years ago, he wasn't often one to get violent with his hands. His weapon is just obnoxiously large too though.

They are still one animatronic and their transformation is still triggered by light. Instead of an AI chip though (which is still in there but long dead), they live through the work of a soul. They're still physically inorganic but as far as spiritually they're as close as they're gonna get to being human. Their life and functionailty is derived from the magic itself, not the machinery. Like if for some reason they lost all their magic they'd just drop dead from a battery life long since drained.

The hourglass has a carousel-like design to it purely as reference to moon's level in Help Wanted 2.

Sorry for rambling so much but this is what i've got for you so far! I have a general idea for the plot but im tryna to make it more than what it is rn, so i dont wanna share too much of that just yet in case i change or completely toss away an idea.

#fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf security breach #sundrop #fnaf moon #moondrop #binary resurgence: round 2 au #binary resurgence #my asks #mikas stuff #dca x reader #dca x y/n #sun x reader #moon x reader

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blue-jisungs · 6 months

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holding their hand ♡

author's note. i need to write for my boys more since i kinda neglected them ?!

┆彡 GUNIL [ 건일 ]

ahh this guy :”)

tbh i feel like… he has his hands all over u 24/7

just LOVES holding ur hand

whether it’s during a walk, holding hands underneath the table or just grabbing onto your hand while you’re mid convo with someone

he couldn’t care less by the disgusted looks the guys give him 🫡

he just wants to hold his partner’s hand and ain’t no one holding back this dude !!

but also he’s so so gentle about it

his hands sometimes are scattered with cuts and bruises, therefore are more in the calloused and harsh side

but he holds your hands so tenderly as if they were made out of fine china :(

he just loves u sm

(and i love him)

┆彡 GAON [ 가온 ]

i mean you saw it coming, we’ve all seen the clips where he pretended to cut his hand off

yeah

he does the same to you

will pretend to cut his hand off if you’re the first one who grabbed his hand

but will get annoyed if you do the same when he grabs your hand first…

also will teasingly squeeze your hand randomly

won’t admit it out loud but he loves holding your hand

that’s why he’s not that big on holding your hand while you’re with the boys (because they’ll tease him to death)

but.

will definitely sneak a hand into yours when you’re in a crowd of strangers

┆彡 JUNGSU [ 정수 ]

screaming wailing sobbing

he is so soft and and gentle and tender and and …

will hold your hand no matter what, even if the guys tease him or if they’re ice-cold

like 24/7, even in his sleep his hand will always look for yours 🥹

i feel like his hands are soft and taken care of (?) like he carries handcream and regularly uses it

(he also creams your hands for you, gently and precisely,, like ,, it’s so adorable ;((( )

so due to that fact it’s just… like his hands r smooth okay

will also sneak kisses on the back of your hand/knuckles before or after he interlocks your hands

it’s just such a sweet gesture that has become his habit

… because he loves the way your cheeks redden because of it ^_^

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

seungmo is like . . .

acts like he doesn’t really care ?

“yeah you’re holding my hand cool🙄”

but deep inside he loves it and prays you never let go

and if you don’t hold his hand for whatever reasons, he’ll aggressively grab yours and shrug nonchalantly when you send him a puzzled look (´･_･`)

lives for interlocking fingers with you

while he does it, he giggles that there’s no way out now… and truly, there’s not

this man has an iron grip…

at first he was also shy to hold hands w you in the boys’ presence but with time, he actually started to love it

just uses this fact to rub it on his faces that he has a partner and they don’t~

┆彡 JUNHAN [ 준한 ]

my lil shy bunny boy !!!!!!!

it took him some time to get used to it, hence why you always initiated hand holding

he was always kind of taken aback, stiffing and blushing, before finally relaxing into your touch

he loves it so so much and even told you one day because he didn’t want you to think that his awkwardness means he doesn’t like it :(

same as gaon, would prefer holding your hand in private or hidden from the members’ eyes

(or hidden literally, underneath a table etc)

and and

when he wants you to hold his hand he’ll shyly interlock your pinkies first :((

giving you puppy eyes and just hoping you’ll catch on :(((

and it becomes an alternative for you, so sometimes you’ll just link pinkies :((((

i’m actually sobbing and banging my head against the wall he’s so precious

┆彡 JOOYEON [ 주연 ]

now this mf …

he’s so dramatic about it

the first time you held his hand he was like “ew cooties…” “take those sweaty hands off me” “ew…”

but THEN WHEN YOU WANTED TO LET GO HE INTERLOCKED YOUR FINGERS AND REFUSED TO LET U GO ???

yeah um,, anyways,,

it’s chaotic – he’ll gasp, whine, roll his eyes

but then the sheepish grin on his lips gives him away

loves to draw shapes on your hand with his thumb, often spelling some words

(‘gaon is dumb’)

(and you need to stop yourself from laughing because you’d look like a maniac)

or or when you intertwine fingers, he’ll put your hands up and try to separate your fingers from his (?) … and when you’re like having flat palms against each other, he’ll suddenly close his fingers again and trap you,, just to repeat that 😭

to summarise, he’s like … if you gave a dog a ball,, he can entertain himself with your (and his) hands ??

and also couldn’t care less about the boys; just like seungmin, he’ll brag that at least he has a hand to hold

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @dazzlingligth

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 5 months

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Shadows Entwined: Part 2

BatmanVsTmnt!Leonardo x sidekick!reader

Part 1 / Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Bonus (18+)

In which both Leo and reader get grilled by their families, because of the "pretty eyes".

Warnings: Spelling, loong.

The reader and the turtles are 19.

—--------------------------------------

“They call him… The Batman”, Donnie said, reading from his computer screen, causing Leo to break from his starting contest with the wall. He didn’t even remember how he got to staring at the wall. He remembers returning to the abandoned cafe with his brothers, after their meeting with this, Batman and… her. She had said his eyes were pretty. No way she actually meant it. Not with eyes like hers. They were… Leo did not know how to describe them… deep? Colorful? Lively? Filled with emotion-, oh this is how he ended up zoning out in the first place.

Leo was once again pulled out of his thoughts, as Raph started yelling about how stupid it was to use half an hour to google something he could have guessed in seconds.

“I’ve read rumors about a supernatural bat creature in Gotham, but I assumed that he was an urban legend, or that he was a mutant like us”, Donnie said deeply fascinated.

“That guy was definitely human”, Leo finally spoke. “And I think his super natural powers are just his gadgets. Anything about the girl?” Leo could see Raph facepalm out of the corner of his eye.

“Nothing”, Donnie said. “Only stuff about this Batman, or whatever he is”. Why did that pull down on Leo’s mood? No information about her at all?

“We already know what he is!” Mikey was practically dancing at the whiteboard. “He’s awesome!... Unless he’s a bad guy… That would make him… 40% less awesome”. Leo could already tell by the look on Raph’s face that he wanted to punch their little brother all the way back to New York.

“No one knows his motives, but it does appear that he only attacks criminals”, Donnie continued. “Especially this clown guy”.

“So he wears a Dracula costume and punches clowns. Who cares?!”, yelled Raph. “The dirtbag stole my sai!”

“Dracula costume? What kind of Dracula movies have you been watching?”, Donnie muttered.

“Is that why that girl hang around him?!”, Mikey yelled from his whiteboard, jumping with the same enthusiasm he had shown ever since they arrived in Gotham. “He has bitten her and now she is under his control? This city just gets better and better!”

“I don’t think so Mikey. She did say Leo had pretty eyes”, Donnie said. “Hypothetically, I don’t think a human under vampire control would say that. I actually don’t even think vampires in fiction can control people like that…”

Leo already hated this conversation.

“Look all I’m saying is Shredder stole the ooz from TCRI and came to Gotham, we know he’s been working with a new partner, right? It’s gotta be this bat creep and that Leo loving sidekick he has around”, Raph said, exasperated.

Leo remained unmoving with his arms crossed, but the mentioning of the girl made something move in his stomach.

“I’m not so sure”, Leo said. “The way they fought, avoiding lethal blows. They wanted to figure us out. Like a detective".

“She wanted to figure you out”, Raph mumbled, just loud enough for Leo to hear it. Leo would have spoken up, and Mikey not done it first.

“Okay bros. I broke it down”, he said, pointing to his drawings on the whiteboard. “Awesome: Little bat throwing things, cool car, sweet hat, Leo’s first girlfriend. Not awesome: Kicked our butts, may be evil, mean voice, Leo’s first heartbreak”.

“Either way”, Leo broke in, before giving his brothers any chance to add on to Mikey’s whiteboard Batman and sidekick breakdown. “After Wayne Enterprises, we have no idea where the Foot will be next. The Batman is our only lead”.

Donnie nodded. “Whether friend or foe, he and his sidekick was at the scene of the crime. And if you give me a minute, I think I’ve gotten an idea”.

---

“I was right outside!” you yelled like a spoiled child, waving your arms in the air, while Batman carefully looked at the magnifying glass in front of him, a sample he had taken from the sai laying in the little glass tray. “I did nothing but watch those metahumans kick Penguin’s butt! I could have helped you!”

“I did not need help”, Batman said, stoic as he always was when wearing that mask. “I had it under control”.

“That blood in your mouth said otherwise”, you sighed leaning against the deck next to you. This man was stubborn and you knew it. It was no use fighting him on his opinions, as it would be a losing battle for anyone except him.

You heard the familiar sound of a grappling against metal, and saw as Batgirl made her way out of the air vent.

“Heard on the scanner that the police took in some of Penguin’s men. Said they were jumped by four crazy frogs. I assume those were my lizard guys”, she said.

“Your lizard guys are strange”, you told Batgirl.

“They are turtles”, Batman said, pressing keys on the computer keyboard. “And the DNA on this weapon suggests they were mutated by an outside agent”.

“Mutant ninja turtles”. You raised a brow. “And me who thought Gotham couldn’t get any stranger”.

“The technology the ninjas have already stolen could be used to refine a mutagen like that”, Batgirl noted. “But why?”

“The cloud-seeder is the last piece of the puzzle. Which is why I had to move it to a secure location outside of Gotham”.

“I really wished you guys brought me in on this!”, Batgirl said. “I mean I saw the monsters first. It’s my case”.

“And pass up the opportunity to watch them swordfight Penguin later in the future? No way! I had front seat tickets!”

“There were too many unknowns. You could have gotten hurt. Both of you”. Batman turned his attention towards you. “You have to be more careful, (Y/N)”.

“What do you mean? I was beating that blue one pretty good”.

“Yet you didn’t notice the red one almost tapped you from the back”.

You felt a movement in your stomach and cold run down your back, yet your face started to feel hot. You did not notice at all. When would that have happened?... How long did you look into those blue eyes? Did the red one see an opening, only for Batman to save you, while you were being engulfed in a mutant turtle’s eyes, not noticing the world around you?

“N- no, I didn’t”.

“No, and you’ll have to work on that before I start calling you for backup”. Feedback from Batman always sounded harsh. And it did make you feel self conscious. But when it came to fighting alongside Batman, it was a matter of life and death. “In the meantime”, Batman continued, before you could dig too deep into your own feelings. “I’ll need to start working on a way to counteract the mutagen”. Batman stood for a moment. “And for that I could use both of your help”.

You could feel a big smile form on your face as Batgirl thanked the man you saw as your father figure. It wasn’t often that he actually asked for your help, or any help at all, making this a rare occasion, forever saved in your memory.

“All though”, Batgirl said as Batman looked closer at the sai he had gotten from the red turtle. “If those creatures left the Penguin's men tied up for the police, maybe I was wrong about them”.

“Maybe”, was all Batman had to say about that.

The drive back to the Batcave from Wayne Enterprise was silent. With you and Batgirl squished together in one seat, while Batman was driving the Batmobile. The silence that was so common when it came to Batman. It was a far cry from the Bruce Wayne that had taken you in as his own daughter. I was as if the moment he took the mask on, he became a different person. Not less loving than the Bruce Wayne you had given the title father, but less expressive and harder to read.

“Pretty eyes?”, Batman said, finally breaking the silence. Batgirl looked at you in confusion.

“It caught him off guard didn’t it? I’ll say it worked”, you said, playing with a smile on your lips. The bat stayed silent. You knew that silence. It was not an approving silence. You tried playing it off, talking about something else. “Did you notice how easily excited the orange one got? And how mad that red one was? They kind of remind me of Robin-”.

“Your brother is not comparable to a bunch of ninja turtles”.

“Well you might think that”, you mumbled, thinking of your pestilence of an adopted brother, that often caused chaos in your daily life, by sneaking around Wayne Manor. “He does look a little like them”.

Batgirl turned to Batman. “Care to explain?”

Batman sighed. “(H/N) and the blue mutant had a moment where she told him he had pretty eyes”.

“A moment?”, Batgirl asked, slightly shocked.

“A stare down”, you said, feeling your cheeks getting hot.

“A moment”, Batman corrected. “Even his attacks became softer after she told him”.

“No they didn’t!”

“They did. And so did yours”.

With your cheeks on fire, you crossed your arms and leaned back into the seat you shared with Batgirl. The amused smile she was trying to hide, made you wish the Batmobile would swallow you on the spot.

Why did that damn turtle have to have such pretty eyes?

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gingernut1314 · 4 months

Text

'Tis the Season

Straw Hat Crew x GN!Reader

Summary: You share your holiday celebrations with your crew aboard the Going Merry.

Warnings: fluffffffff, some (very little) mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 1.5K

A/N: Soooo I've gotten into the holiday spirit and needed to write this, so I hope you all don't mind too much! @fanaticsnail thank you for contributing to my holiday cheer with your wonderful x-mas works! (go check them out if you haven't already! Very good!!) I hope everyone has an amazing holiday or can find joy in something that brings you happiness this month!!! 🩷

↞ to One Piece Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

Luffy: 🍖

As soon as you tell him anything about the holiday you celebrated back on your home island, he would insist on doing it right then and there

Festive and colorful decorations? He’s stopping at the nearest island to gather supplies and doctorate the Merry to your liking

Hot chocolate and food? Yes please.

Turkey, roast beef, or ham for dinner? Why not all of it?

The food is the most important part of this new holiday, he thinks

He’s getting Sanji to whip up every delicacy you can possibly think of

Fun holiday activities? The crew will be dragged along and they will have fun

He’ll want to double--no triple check that Santa is going to visit the Merry because he sounds super cool and he wants to recruit him onto the crew

I mean, come on! The guy loves cookies and milk and those are some of Luffy's favorite things!

…and he will be very skeptical of you telling him Santa is, unfortunately, not real

Luffy is dead broke so he goes to Nami to beg for berry so that he can get you a gift

Nami, of course, refuses to give him a single coin and tells him to make you something

So he would spend hours making you a gift

He would hand you a drawing of him hugging the life out of you on the Merry

And you would have to have him explain to you what is happening in his creation because all you can make out is the colors red and blue and what looks to be his signature straw hat

You love it regardless and hang it on the wall next to your hammock

Luffy will want to recreate the picture of course, and you’ll be more than happy to hug your captain back

Will leave cookies and milk out for Santa (and will eventually devour what he left out) and will try (and fail) to stay up all night to see Santa

You would find him dead asleep half an hour later and would be sure to leave a few gifts under the too-large tree he had Zoro set up on the deck for him

Luffy will get that guy next year, just you wait and see

Zoro: 🗡️🥦 ⚔️

He is uninterested

None of it is his style

Too flashy and too loud

He’s good to take a nap during the festivities

You will be able to entice him to come and eat the food Sanji was kind enough to prepare

And you’ll entice him further with some spiked holiday drinks

Luffy is all over the holiday, so it won’t take much convincing to sail back to your home island for the day

And while the rest of the crew is partaking in the festivities your home village is throwing in the snow-covered street, you’ll slip away with Zoro’s hand in your own

You will tell him how this holiday isn’t just about joy, food, and festive songs, but about life and death

You showed him back to the ruins of your childhood home, which he had been in mere moments before the villain you had been helping them fight set fire to it

The scorched front lawn was covered in clumps of candles, garland wreaths, rocks, and food, just as you knew it would be

You explained that your village had done this in celebration of the life your family had lived--to remember them and keep their souls filled with joy in whatever afterlife they might have entered

He would watch you light a candle and pull a small trinket from your pocket, placing them both on the blackened steps of your home

Zoro would light a candle and place it next to yours, sitting there with you for as long as you needed

He would even wrap you up in one of his strong arms, holding you tight

Later, you would gift him a bottle of sake

He had no clue gift-giving had anything to do with your holiday, so he would insist you share the bottle with him

He will be sure to get you a gift next year

Nami: 🍊

She would be a little on the uninterested side at first

But after watching how excited you got as you explained to the rest of the crew about the holiday you celebrated, she would warm up to it

She would even warm up enough to allow you to doctorate her tangerine trees with lights and tinsel

The lights were pretty enough, she supposed. The tinsel shiny

And she does love shiny things

Once in the holiday spirit, she would let it fully take her over

Nami would dock the Merry on the closest island and go searching for the best gift she could find you

When it came to you, she hardly thought much about how much berry she was spending

You and your joy were more important to her than a number

You had commented on needing a new pair of shoes a week ago? Bought.

Commented on wanting something so offhandedly you had forgotten the moment you stepped away? Bought and wrapped in whatever wrapping paper she could find that screamed your holiday in its bright colors

She would be very excited to watch you unwrap everything she had gotten you (which you had been very shocked at, but had been told strictly to just unwrap everything and not worry so much)

You would feel a bit embarrassed at how little you had gotten her, but she wouldn’t care because your gift was thoughtful

So thoughtful it nearly brought her to tears

After everyone else had gone to bed, she would take you back up onto the deck and hand you a cup of hot chocolate she had attempted to make (which she had done a pretty good job at creating without the help of Sanji)

The two of you would sit, snuggled up next to each other under a heavy blanket and watch the dancing, multicolored lights adorning her trees late into the night

Usopp: 🤥

Will get into it right away

He loves any excuse to celebrate, so your holiday is already perfect

Usopp is quick to make colored lights to hang up around the ship

And he’ll want to make everyone a stocking, which will be color coordinating and have some sort of special technique that didn’t need to be added in the first place

He loves all the different holiday-themed stories and songs

Throughout the day, he’ll randomly burst into horribly off-tune song and you will be expected to join in

The traditional stories you tell him get the typical Captain Usopp spin to them

But it just makes them that much better in your opinion

They become your crew's stories, making them so special

While the crew eats and drinks holiday drinks, he’ll tell the stories and have everyone, even Zoro, entranced by their colorfulness

You made the big mistake of telling him about Krampus

And now he is utterly terrified of getting kidnapped and beaten by the goat-demon

Though he won’t say he’s scared

He'll be very admit that he isn't

But a loud stomp of the foot against the deck floor from Zoro has the poor storyteller jumping out of his skin and using you as a shield

Usopp is a very good gift-giver

Not only is it handmade, but it is also functional (for once) and it will help you out loads

You give him his gift and he bursts into tears, thanking you and hugging you profusely

Everyone will go to bed, the lights hanging up everywhere only adding to the cozy, homeyness of the Going Merry

And you’ll just be nodding off when Usopp comes crawling into your hammock, begging you with tears in his eyes to keep Krampus away from him

You’ll laugh at him at first, but end up promising to keep him safe while you hold him tight

And he’ll hold you back just as, if not more, tight

Sanji: 🧑‍🍳

Of course, Sanji gets into the holiday spirit

It's a holiday you celebrate and one that makes you happy

And all he ever wants to do is make you happy

You’ll sheepishly bring him your family's old cookbook full of recipes passed down from generation to generation

And he’ll be more than happy to cook you whatever your heart desires

Nothing is too much in his eyes when it comes to you

He’ll insist you help him cook everything, seeing as you are the expert when it comes to these recipes

And you two will share bits and pieces of everything before it all disappears into the void that is your captain’s stomach

He will also be very interested in this mistletoe tradition

He makes it his mission to not only hang the green sprigs everywhere around the ship

But to get you under as many of them as he possibly can, for as long as he possibly can

You find yourself purposely wondering under the mistletoe and lingering there until Sanji notices and rushes over

Though Sanji wants to get you the best gift he can possibly buy, he’s not the best when it comes to gift-giving

Food and physical touch are his love language after all

So he bakes you a sweet treat you had once told him about, one you hadn’t had since your childhood

And it’s the best gift you could have ever wished for because he made it just like how you remembered it

He loves whatever you give him

It could be a stick you say reminds you of him and he would be over the moon, mounting it and hanging it up in the kitchen

Though you are sure to get him a very nice gift, one you had spent weeks thinking over so it was just right

He doesn’t need the mistletoe to show you just how much he appreciates the gift

Sanji makes you both hot chocolate and holds you tight as you two talk in the abandoned and cleaned kitchen

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acidxinxwonderland · 4 months

Note

Hiiii, do you happen to have any Monty x Y/N HCs? 👉👈🥺

Oooh, you know I've never actually done much for Monty, but the gator totally deserves the love. He just seems like a fun character to just... sink your teeth in (literally too lol)

Montgomery Gator

The poor fella never has had feelings towards anyone else besides you. Once you first meet and you talked to him differently than anyone else, he was beyond confused.

He'll go to Roxy, talk about you the first day on the job. Once he's through with his long rant of how you said, 'Hi, how are you?' with a sweet smile, Roxy will stare blankly at the gator

"They were just being nice to you gator boy."

"Huh... Yeah I guess they were."

Something I've talked about in my server and I adore the thought of is that he just... NOT subtle

"Hey, did you do something different with..." He gestures to all of you. "You know, well, you just... You just look nice." He then walks away, completely embarrassed with himself.

He lives for your smile, one day you're chatting away with him, he cracks his best joke and seeing you laugh and your face light up... His internal mechanisms go into over drive. Without so much as a thought, his hand cups your cheek, a clawed thumb tracing over your bottom lip.

Your laughs die now, replaced with a deep blush that he finds he likes much more.

He'll SUCK at flirting in the beginning, because of course, you're the first person to give him such feelings. Either way you find it absolutely adorable.

"So, one of the kids down in gator golf gave this to me." His long tail is swaying back and forth, handing you a drawing of a toddler. "It made me think of you, so... I wanted you to have it." You don't find out exactly why he gave it to you until later, which is because it made him happy, and you make him happy. Anything that brought him joy reminded him of you.

It was just scribbles made with crayons on a piece of paper. You still have it hung up in your locker to this day.

You are Monty's soft spot, and in the beginning he hated that. His tough guy persona slipped when you were around and everyone noticed, the way they teased him made him want to crawl out of his metal casing.

There was a day he TRIED to act tough around you, but you saw right through it, an amused look on your eyes as he leaned up against the wall trying to appear mysterious and cool. That's when he realizes that he is in love with you, because only you could see through his façade.

Once you two finally made it official, after months of extremely obvious and mutual pining for each other, you became his anchor.

He always had outbursts because in reality he was scared, scared of his anger, scared that he'll never be in the spotlight. But with you there, you were more than enough of a spotlight for him, in your eyes he was number one. He realized that's all he needed.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #roxanne wolf #montgomery gator #monty x reader #monty fnaf #montgomery gator x reader #roxy security breach #head cannon #fnaf headcanons #monty x y/n

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loonsmoons · 1 year

Text

The Marauders and how they’d react to/feel about spiders, because I had a meltdown when I found one in my room this morning :)

James: Freaks out. Screams for someone to get rid of it, but insists on not killing it (it is a living organism after all). “NO, PUT IT OUTSIDE, JUST PUT IT OUTSIDE! FURTHER AWAY, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? IT WILL CRAWL RIGHT BACK IN!”

Sirius: Freaks out as well. But it gets UGLY. You know that meme of that crying woman pointing at the white cat? That’s him pointing at the spider. He also does not care if it’s a living organism, he wants to see it DEAD. “I don’t CARE if it’s more scared of me then I am of it, KILL. IT.”

Remus: Doesn’t care about them, never has. He’s kind enough to take them outside for James and Sirius with that glass and paper trick, but not before pretending to accidentally have dropped/lost it on one of their beds. Because he IS an asshole.

Peter: Used to find them scary, but from the first time on when he came into the dorm and found James and Sirius standing on their beds/desks screaming, he became the knight in shining armour and took it out (not outside, OUT). (He became a little terrified again though the first time he saw one as a rat: “This shit’s GIGANTIC!” But then again, he thought of everything as gigantic … “And- and then Remus … Jeez, he looked like a fucking giant! And Sirius- … Well you were there too, ig”)

Lily: Very much not scared. Thinks they’re fascinating actually. If she finds one outside, crawling over her picnic blanket or smth, she’ll let it crawl over her hand and curiously watch it.

Mary: Will watch it with Lily, joking about being jealous of its long legs. And then she’ll insist on letting it crawl onto her hand as well, but as soon as it does, she’s all “Nonono, take it off. TAKE IT OFF”

Marlene: Very similar to Sirius, perhaps less tears and more aggressive screaming. “KILL IT, FUCKING. KILL. IT.”

Dorcas: Just … Does not care. She’ll find one in her room and goes “Okay cool, you live here now as well, ig” Occasionally she will talk to it like: “Jeez Timmy, you better know how lucky you are … Imagine just not having to write Transfiguration essays …” (Wait, you don’t, do you? Or are you an animagus? You better not be …”)

Pandora: Loves them. Even has a pet spider she’ll force everyone to cuddle with. She’ll occasionally lose it too, and everytime some brave soul brings it back to her, she’s like an old lady with her cat: “Tsk tsk tsk Garry, where have you been again, huh?” Just leaving, not even thanking the person that brought Garry back. So they stand there, awkwardly, as Pandora moves away like: “Always exploring the neighbourhood, aren’t you, lil guy?”

Regulus: Doesn’t really mind them either. Very similar to Dorcas, but he’s a bit more fascinated by them, like Lily. He will look through several books to find out what kind it is, and just … sit there and watch it, or draw it in his sketchbook

Barty: Says he’s all chill around them, until Evan next to him clears his throat and he’s reminded of last week, when he was screaming and crying and running from a leave that fell into his lap, which to him looked like a spider

Evan: Maniac. Will carry them out with his BARE HANDS. Just grabbing it off the wall. And unlike Remus he won’t just pretend to drop it, but actually drop it onto Barty’s bed. (He regrets that every time though, because for an entire week after, Barty insists on sleeping in the common room, even if the spider’s long gone by then). If he finds Pandora’s spider he’ll keep it for another day or two, playing and cuddling with it “What? I’d do the same if it were a cute lil kitten” “Well you see, it’s NOT a cute lil kitten … IT’S A MONSTER FROM HELL!”

#loonsmoons #headcanon #marauders #slytherin skittles #i'm very much a Remus ofc #i was completely fine when i found it #obviously :)#james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #lily evans #mary macdonald #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #pandora lovegood #regulus black #barty crouch jr #evan rosier

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aristocratic-otter · 4 months

Text

Howdy all!

I've not posted in forever, but I want you to know I am writing. I've just hit a wall with Saving Simon Snow and The Heart in the Well, so I'm rereading those to figure out where I'm going. But I've made significant progress on my other three, just not enough to post a chapter. I think a chapter of Snow Fox will be up in a week. I don't want too many WIPs on the archive, so I'll wait till one is finished to start posting Stars, Flowers and Children, which I've already got ten chapters done on.

Thank you to these folks for continuing to tag me even when I go silent: @larkral, @blackberrysummerblog, @bookish-bogwitch, @nausikaaa, @artsyunderstudy, @nightimedreamersghost, @prettygoododds, @rimeswithpurple, @ic3-que3n, @j-nipper-95 and @shrekgogurt

From: Stars, Flowers, and Children:

One moment Simon’s staring, open-mouthed at Davy’s corpse, and the next he’s folded himself into my chest, sobbing. “I killed him,” he whispers, between sobs. “Baz…I killed him.”

I want to argue with Simon, tell him that he couldn’t have known his shove would kill the man, that Davy’s own drunkenness made him so clumsy he couldn’t break his own fall, that Davy’s madness forced Simon to take action…but none of those things will help. So I just wrap my arms around him and hold him to me and let him cry.

I want to tell him it’s alright. But it’s not.

We’re thirteen years old, and we’re all alone in the world.

From: Snow Fox

“I wish I were there with you. I wish I could be more help,” he frets.

“You’re where I need you,” I remind him. “You’re of invaluable assistance to our effort. Baz, nobody can do what you do for the rebellion.” I reach up and cup his face between my two palms. “And,” I whisper, “knowing you are here, safe? It’s the only thing that keeps me going, some days, darling.”

Baz’s eyes soften. Then I can’t see his eyes anymore because his lips are on mine and my own eyes have slammed shut. He kisses me fiercely, hungrily. Then he pulls away abruptly. “I’ll stay safe for you, for as long as I can,” he whispers.

“I know,” I whisper. “And I’ll do the same for you.”

And a longish sample from Tiktok dancer--Baz is finally in the story!

“We’re young, we’re hot, and we’re freeeeeee!” Dev shouts, and then follows his boast up with a raucous wolf howl.

“You’re making a scene!” I hiss at him.

Dev flips me off, before skipping ahead of Niall and I to the baggage carousel. I refuse to look around to see if Dev’s behavior is drawing attention. Of course it is; he lives to embarrass me.

Niall laughs at my expression and then throws an arm over my shoulders. “C’mon, Baz. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner you can cool your blushes.”

I scowl at him. “I’m not blushing,” I lie. I can feel the heat in my cheeks, but hopefully my skin is too dark for him to tell.

He releases me with a pat on the shoulder and a laugh. “Dev’s just having fun. And he’s right, you know. This is our hot singles tour, and we get to do it in hot people paradise. Isn’t that great?”

“I thought Hawaii was paradise,” I snark.

Niall rolls his eyes. “Your virginity is showing, Baz. C’mon, California? The home of the hottest girls on the planet?”

Now I roll my eyes. “And I should care about that, why?” We’ve reached the baggage carousel now. Dev has pulled all of our suitcases off of the conveyer and is waiting impatiently for us. He was close enough, apparently to hear the last part of our conversation. He snickers.

“You care because you want your best friends in the world to get laid by the hottest women. You’re just nice that way.”

“Besides,” Niall grunts, as he hefts our suitcases onto a baggage cart. “I’m sure the guys are just as hot. You’ll find someone to fuck, Baz. Probably several someones.”

Tagging (and blowing y'all a big kiss for the New Year): @angelsfalling16, @bazzybelle, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @erzbethluna, @fatalfangirl< @facewithoutheart, @hushed-chorus, @letraspal, @frjsti, @messofthejess, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @onepintobean, @raenestee, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @theearlgreymage, @tea-brigade, @cutestkilla, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

#co/ws/awtwb #wip wednesday #carry on through the ages #cotta 2023 #carry on reverse bang #Age of Sail AU

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takiniteasynightcoreremix · 4 months

Text

edit: on AO3

tw: canon-typical homophobia, medical gore (near the end). pre-dethklok magnus and murderface, just dudes bein roommates

They pay the security deposit with the last of Magnus' college fund and put Murderface's grandfather's name on the lease instead of their own. It's garbage day, so they spend their morning cruising around a neighborhood on the nice end of town, occasionally stopping to throw furniture into the back of Magnus' truck. They bribe Nathan with a case of beer to help them 'move in', and by the afternoon, it almost looks like a real home: tatty sofa, cracked TV screen, stack of amps along the wall, their own mattresses on the floors of their rooms. It's a two-bedroom, but they deserve a two-bedroom, because they're going to make it big, after all. Nathan almost has a drummer lined up, a big name supposedly, and the gigs are already being penciled in, and they know by instinct that Dethklok is going to be big. Really big. They should be living like kings.

So, on their first day in their new apartment, Murderface and Magnus sit on opposite sides of their freshly-scavenged couch and watch their cracked TV. Magnus has done some 'creative' wiring so that they can 'borrow' cable from the neighbouring apartment, but right now they're only getting one channel and it's the one where people try to sell you things. Deluxe vacuums, currently. Nathan's gone off to have some meeting with their potential new drummer, so it's just the two of them, in their new apartment, that they're now renting together, on their own personal couch. Just the two of them. Roommates. Sitting on a couch…

"Is thisch gay?" Murderface asks aloud.

Magnus glances over a him. "Excuse me?"

"Thisch is kinda gay, right? Two guys living together?"

Magnus blinks at him. "Oh, yeah, totally, man," he replies apathetically, directing his attention back to the television.

"Wait, fuck, scheriously?"

"Seriously. Says on the lease we have to suck each other off every night."

"Fuck. Thatsch not good."

"Trust me, you get used to it."

"Aw, man, this schucks! I don't wanna suck a dude off! Can't I jusch jerk you off or somethin'?"

"If you jerk me off, we don't get the security deposit back."

"Fuck the shecurity deposit. That's your money anyway."

Magnus gives Murderface one of his famous cutting glances from the corner of his eyes. Then he settles back into the couch, propping an ankle over his knee, jiggling his foot a little.

Murderface tries to mimic him, likewise sinking into the sofa, likewise crossing his legs. Super relaxed, super cool.

"I'm not suckin' nobody's pee-pee," Murderface grumbles. "My name's not even on the schtupid lease."

Magnus has already lost interest in the joke. "Oh. Sure. I guess legally, your grand-dad has to suck it."

"Dude, grossch--"

"Shut up," Magnus sits up, gestures to the TV. "Look at that."

The vacuum infomercial has ended. A man dressed as a cowboy now stands before a fake desert backdrop, delivering an inaudible monologue (the speakers on their TV are broken).

"Aw schit," says Murderface, "Now that jusch makes me homeschick."

"Keep watching, idiot," says Magnus.

Murderface keeps watching. He watches as the cowboy reaches into his hip-holster and draws a long, shiny samurai sword.

"Schit!" Murderface sits up. "That's fuckin' aweschome!"

"Right?"

"I want a fuckin' sword-holster! You know what? I'll suck you off if it means we get your money back and use it to buy a fuckin' cowboy ninja sword!"

Magnus looks thoughtful. "You know," he begins slowly, "I have some money left in my college fund."

They lock eyes. No further words need pass between them. They stand and go for the door.

Magnus and Murderface are standing before a kiosk in a shopping mall, admiring a dazzling array of knives.

They have big knives; knives with bad-ass triangular holes in them (aerodynamic!); knives with iridescent blades; knives with that fancy stripy folded-steel blades; They have hunting knives with camo-print handles, little pocket knives, Swiss army knives, pocket knives with bullets for handles, pocket knives with lighters for handles, pocket knives hidden in lipstick (for the ladies). They have knives with spikes on them and knives shaped like axes and knives with jagged serrated edges that look like shark's teeth. And, of course, they have swords.

"Schit," Murderface says, pointing, "I want that one."

"Bad quality steel," Magnus says, without looking.

"Fuck that schit, the blade is black. That means high carbon. Extra scharp."

"This is what you want," says Magnus, pointing to a plain steel hunting knife. "Utilitarian. Functional."

"Boooo-ring."

"Classy. That's a knife you can bring to a fancy dinner."

"Check out that knife," Murderface interrupts him. The knife he points to has a blade the length of his forearm, with spikes all around the base near where it connects to the handle, and several triangular holes in the centre.

"Shit," Magnus breathes. "That's a cool knife."

"So fucking cool."

"You want that one?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"But?"

"I've been thinking, we schould get a lot of knives. An aschortment of knives."

"Oh, yeah, absolutely."

"We need the right knives for the right occasions. Every knife scherves its own purposch."

"And a sword, of course."

"Two schwords! One for you, one for me."

"Three swords. We'll have to keep one by the door, in case of intruders."

"Yeah! It's a bad neighborhood, who knows what could happen."

They lock eyes. They nod. Magnus signals for the clerk.

They've just pulled onto the highway and an awful staticky death metal band is blasting over the radio when Magnus turns the volume down and says, "We should have a special dinner. To celebrate the move."

"Dude, grosch," Murderface, whose lap is currently full of knives, replies. "That's gay."

"I'm gay? You're holding a rainbow knife."

"Uh, it'sch called an oil-spill butterfly knife? It'sch limited edition?"

"Whatever, man. It doesn't have to be anything fancy. We can get steak or something. Champagne."

"Gaaaay."

"The champagne makes the lease-required dick-sucking easier, William. You'll thank me later."

Viscerally disgusted, Murderface stabs Magnus' dashboard with his newly-acquired limited-edition oil-spill butterfly knife. "Eugh, just don't call me that while you're talking about dick-sucking! You're really grosching me out."

"Whatever you say, honey."

"Hammersmith--"

Magnus turns up the radio, rolls down the window to let the wind blow in. Murderface watches him tuck his long hair behind his ear, then stabs his dashboard once more, for good measure.

They are standing in a grocery store looking at the meat cabinet. It's all very red, and fleshy, and if you think about it, it should be brutal-- a cabinet of dismembered body parts, ruthlessly torn apart, laid out like inanimate objects to be purchased for money and consumed by strangers. Brutal. And yet…

"I don't like it," Murderface declares.

Magnus is frowning at an array of whole fish. "Hm."

"It's jusch lame or something." Murderface rams his fist against the glass. "Whatsch the point of eating meat if you don't even get to kill the animal first? It's fucking bullschit!"

"Hm," Magnus repeats himself. "What about that?"

He points towards a door leading to the back room. Through it they can see a large, steel table, and on top of it is a full half of a pig, skinned and ready for butchering.

"Yeah…" Murderface says slowly, "That's pretty schick."

"You," Magnus snaps at the clerk behind the counter, "We'll take that one. Yes, that one, in the room back there…"

… Ten minutes and a great deal of haggling later, they're pushing half a pig in a cart down the cheese aisle.

"My roommate in college was a law guy," Magnus is explaining. "He went to a lot of fancy events. Showed me the ropes."

"Did you suck his hog?"

"The secret is in the cheese. You have to get the right cheese, and… olives."

Murderface leers at the cheeses before them. "This one looksch fancy," he says, grabbing a package at random.

"Good, get a hard one as well."

"We're in a groschery store, Hammerschmith, that's not appropriate."

"You know," Magnus says quite calmly, "One of these days, I am going to stab you."

Murderface grabs another package at random and throws it on top of the pig carcass. "Oh I bet you'd like that. Schtickin' things in guys."

"William," Magnus lays a hand on Murderface's shoulder. "You're fixated on my sexuality because you're insecure about yours. I get that, and I just want you to know, as a friend, that I don't mind if you're gay."

Murderface smacks his hand away. "Ughh! Don't try your shrink-school bullschit on me!"

"I fully support you and your rainbow knives."

"Shut up! What elsch do we need, olives?"

They're stopped at a gas station while Magnus fills up his truck. Murderface is standing in the wine section selecting only the finest gas station champagnes for their housewarming dinner. Which is some bullshit, now that he thinks about it. What the fuck even is champagne? Bubbly wine, right? Maybe they can just drop an alka-seltzer into a carton of Franzia. That's probably easier than trying to read the French gibberish on the labels of all these bottles.

Murderface has a carton of Franzia on his shoulder and is heading for the medicinals section when he catches sight of something truly marvelous.

There, by the door, stands a glass display cabinet. And contained within that cabinet…

"What is that?" Magnus asks, when Murderface returns to the truck.

"Behold," says Murderface, with eminent pride, "A gnife!"

Like a modern bayonet, the 'knife' is, in fact, a very small pistol, with a knife's blade inexpertly welded to the barrel. He waves it in the air so that Magnus can get a proper look.

"Damn," Magnus breathes. "That's pretty cool."

"Right?"

"I don't care for guns myself, but even I can admit-- cool."

"It's scho fucking cool."

"Where's the champagne?"

"I figured we'll just throw a little alka-seltzer in thisch boxed wine. Trailer park champagne."

"Fine, fine. Get in, let's go."

"Hold on. I didn't pay for your gasch--"

"Get in the fucking truck, William!" Magnus yells.

William hurls himself into the passenger seat, landing uncomfortably atop their pile of newly-acquired knives, and Magnus peels out of the parking lot before the cops can show.

They're back in their apartment. They've laid the pig carcass out on the card table Nathan's parents have loaned them, and Magnus is holding a samurai sword.

"Come on!" Murderface urges, hitting his fists on the edge of the table. "Cut it already!"

"Give me time," Magnus growls. He's fixated on the carcass, his eyes are wide, pupils blown with excitement. "An artist's cuts must be… precise."

"Well, be preciser faster!" Murderface complains. "I wanna see a pig get fucked up!"

"Silence, grasshopper. Watch and learn… the way of the warrior!"

With one rapid stroke, Magnus brings the sword down, fast and hard, across the pig's torso. There's a loud meaty thwack. The sword is embedded a couple of inches into jiggly pig flesh.

"Shit!" Magnus yells. "The fucking sword isn't sharp!"

"Magnus, Magnus," Murderface says soothingly, sidling over to Magnus, gently nudging him aside. "Go get yourself some wine, let the blade-maschter handle this one." He eases Magnus' hands off of the sword's handle, takes it in his own firm grasp.

Grumbling, Magnus lets himself be pushed aside. "It's a problem with the blade," he complains. "My technique was perfect. Perfect!"

"It's not a problem with your technique, it's brute schtrength that matters the most." Murderface wrenches the sword out of the pig and raises it high above his head. "Watch and learn, Hammersmith!"

He rams the sword as hard as he possibly can into the pig carcass' neck.

The entire card table buckles and collapses.

"Brute strength," Magnus echoes, observing the pile of plastic and pig meat before them. He's already poured himself another solo-cup of shitty white wine.

Murderface stares at the wreckage for a few seconds. "Schwords not sharp!" he yells. "The fucking schword's not sharp!"

"Want some cheese?"

"Fuck yes, fuck this schtupid pig! Where's my butterfly knife? I'm cuttin' some bacon…"

Magnus and Murderface sit on opposite sides of their freshly-scavenged sofa in their brand new apartment and watch infomercials on their cracked TV. There is a pile of knives and swords in-between them.

"Pasch me some cheese," Murderface says.

Magnus drives the point of the knife in his hand through a block of cheese and holds it out to Murderface. Murderface skewers it on his own knife.

A man on the TV is talking about the virtues of humidifiers. Magnus has used his technical wizardry to plug one of their amps into the TV, so they have sound now.

"This guysch a fuckin' idiot," Murderface announces through a mouthful of cheese. "Who needs a humidifier in fuckin' Florida?"

"As if my hair isn't ruined enough," Magnus agrees, idly stabbing the arm of the sofa.

"I thought gay guys liked big hair."

"You're thinking of glam rockers. Also, William, I'm getting pretty tired of the gay jokes."

"Hittin' a nerve, am I?"

"If you have feelings for me, sort that shit out yourself. Or at least get a new joke. You're boring the hell out of me."

Murderface bites the tip of his cheese-knife and watches Magnus through narrowed eyes.

Magnus is staring boredly at the infomercial, ramming his knife into the sofa's arm with precise rhythm. When he's not having his notorious violent outbursts, he's actually quite cool and aloof, taking every affront with casual nonchalance. It's only those who have known him for a long time, such as Murderface, who know that below the artificial calmness lies a simmering rage liable to explode at any moment. Murderface has depended on Magnus since he left his grandparents' home; Murderface has seen Magnus flip out at waitresses without warning and throw chairs through diner windows. He is Murderface's idol. He's a ticking time-bomb.

And now they've moved to Florida together, and they're renting an apartment together, and no matter what Magnus says, it really does feel kind of gay.

Murderface picks up a random knife from their pile and starts ramming it into the sofa's arm, matching the timing of it with Magnus' stabbing.

They sit there for a while, each stabbing their respective sofa arms in peaceful synchronicity.

Murderface feels Magnus glance over at him. He stabs the sofa with a little more force.

"Hey," Magnus says in a low voice. Suddenly a piece of paper lands on his lap, with 'LEASE' written at the top. No instruction needed, Murderface stabs it.

A few minutes later, Murderface pulls off his vest and throws it to Magnus' side of the couch. Magnus balls it up and stabs it.

On Magnus' turn, he throws a whole block of cheese onto Murderface's lap. Murderface puts it on the sofa's arm and proceeds to stab the absolute shit out of it. By the time he's done he's practically reduced it to paste.

Magnus has been watching him all the while, ramming his hunting knife idly again and again into the sofa cushion beside his leg. Murderface can't think of anything else to throw at him, so--

"Schtab me," Murderface says.

Magnus looks mildly surprised. And he waits only a moment before leaning over and stabbing Murderface firmly in the top of the thigh.

"Holy schit!" Murderface shouts. "Fuck! Shit! Goddammit!" He clamps his hands over the wound-- blood wells out from them immediately-- he presses down hard, hissing with pain. "Fuckin' schit, Magnus!"

"Oh, grow up," says Magnus dismissively.

"You fuckin' schtabbed me!"

"There's a first aid kit in the truck. Here are my keys."

"Fuck. You aschole."

The sofa is covered in knives and blood. Murderface is drunk off of his ass on cheap wine and alka-seltzer, pantsless, sitting on a camp chair in the kitchen of his brand new apartment. Magnus is on the ground between Murderface's knees, holding a lighter in one hand and a sewing needle in the other.

"You schure you know how to do this?" Murderface slurs.

"Of course I do," Magnus says. His elbow is resting on Murderface's un-stabbed thigh, his gaze is focused on the needle he's currently heating with the lighter.

"Yeah? Schince when?"

"I dated an EMT for three months."

"What was his name?"

Magnus puts down the lighter and picks up a packet of dental floss from the floor. Brow wrinkled with concentration, he bites off a long length of it, then threads it through the eye of the needle. Then he drops the dental floss and picks up a handle of vodka. "William?"

"What."

"Don't be a little bitch."

The pain is excruciating. It's like his entire thigh has been set on fire and is being ripped apart from the inside by a thousand hell rats from hell (fuck, good song idea.) Murderface bites down on one of his own wrists, and then buries his other hand in Magnus' hair, clutching a handful of thick curly locks. His eyes water and the tears shatter the world into kaleidoscope-colours until he squeezes them shut; when he opens them again he sees the top of Magnus' head between his own bare and bloody thighs and he's wracked with pain and the sight is delusionally sublime.

Fuck.

Maybe there is something to that shrink-school bullcrap. Murderface just let a man stab him. Is that gay? Is he gay for letting his roommate stab him and then stitch him back up? When this is done he's going to have to do some real self-inspection, or whatever it's called.

Whatever, he's getting stitched back together in his own brand new apartment. Way more metal than having some doctor do it, and Murderface is no stranger to stabbings or their aftermath. He lets himself moan in pain, leaning back in the chair. He tilts his head back, whimpers, readjusts his grip on Magnus' hair. Fucking brutal. It's like a war movie. Like one of those civil war soldiers before they invented medicine. Every stroke of the needle vibrates through his core like heavy bass.

And suddenly-- it's over, too soon it's over. Did he black out? Magnus is standing in front of him, his bare chest covered in blood, wiping his hands on his trousers. Murderface glances down and sees his bare, pudgy thigh, likewise blood-stained, with a small stab-wound in one criss-crossed by uneven stitches.

"You're alright," Magnus says reassuringly.

Murderface struggles to sit upright. "Yeah…" he chokes out. "… Schit, that's a good knife. That's fucking scharp."

"I told you. Classic hunting knife. Can't go wrong." Magnus takes a swig of the vodka, then thoughtlessly wipes his mouth. A diluted streak of pinkish blood is left across his cheek. "Can you stand?"

"Uh, give me a schecond." Murderface feels woozy. He feels very warm. He wants Magnus to stab him again. He needs another cup of wine.

"Just hurry up," says Magnus, turning away. "That samurai cowboy guy is on and I need to write down the number."

"Yeah…" Murderface sighs, slumping back in his chair. "Yeah, sure, write it down for me, too…"

It is their first night in their new apartment. Everything is covered and blood, there is a pig carcass in the centre of their kitchen, and they just know they're going to make it big.

#my fic #william murderface #magnus hammersmith #metalocalypse #don't even ask tbh

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archangeldyke-all · 4 months

Text

chapter 3 of my big fic coming out on the 24th as a final little teaser for all my readers <3 :)

men and minors dni

Your first month at The Last Drop is spent healing. You spend a lot of time with Jinx, coloring and listening to her chatter. You spend a lot of time polishing glasses and watering down liquor bottles at the bar on off hours. You spend a lot of time alone, in the silent corners of the giant building that is Silco’s headquarters.

You become fast friends with Lock, the giant tattooed man. He’s got a killer sense of humor, and most of his job consists of looking tough outside of Silco’s office. So when you’ve got nothing better to do, you’ll go visit him to chat. You get to know the names of the rest of the crew too.

Theriam works behind the bar. He’s a cool guy so long as you don’t make a mess on the bar top. Ran-- or as you and Lock call them, Bangs-- is a savant with numbers, geometry, and angles. They’ve never lost a pool game, they’ve never made an incorrect mental calculation, they’ve never missed a target, and they have a photographic memory. They also love karaoke, a fact you and Lock were delighted to find out one late night after the three of you split a bottle of bourbon. Singed is Silco’s doctor and shimmer guy, always tinkering away in his lab, playing with his various creatures. Deckard spends most of his time with Singed acting as a human guinea pig, trying out variants of the drug. And Sevika.

You don’t know anything about Sevika. From time to time you see her walking out of Silco’s office, but you’ve never spoken. She’s quiet and gruff, and she avoids you like the plague. You think maybe she was really emotionally attached to the boots you barfed on or something.

You’re often put on what’s referred to amongst the crew as ‘Jinx duty.’ You seem to be the only one who can tolerate her besides Ran and Lock. She’s a cute kid-- if a little disturbed. You haven’t figured out the full story about how she ended up in Silco’s care, but you get the gist. Orphaned children aren’t as rare as they should be in Zaun. You take her quirks in stride, or at least you try to. She seems to like you, though, so that’s all that matters.

Silco’s headquarters are big enough to house the whole crew. Singed and Deckard stay in the basement where the lab is. Lock, Ran and Theriam have rooms on the ground floor, behind the bar. Silco and Jinx have their quarters on the second floor in the east wing, and you’ve been staying in the west. Your room is sparse. A mattress on the ground, a dresser and bookshelf opposite it. You’ve managed to buy yourself new clothes and a few books but besides that, the room is empty. The green stained glass that lines the far wall is your favorite feature. You love watching people wander in and out of the bar all night, love watching the citizens of Zaun live their lives from your perch. You’ve started pinning up some of Jinx’s drawings on your walls to liven up the space.

You don’t know where Sevika stays. You think maybe she has her own place.

Once you get the all clear from Singed that your ribs won’t puncture your lungs if you move too vigorously, you start getting daily assignments. You get to join the rest of the crew in Silco’s office each morning as he gives out commands. Most of your assignments are Jinx related. You’re starting to suspect you’ve been hired as a nanny. You aren’t complaining.

Today, you and Jinx spent the day practicing self defense skills. Silco was adamant that she practice once a week, much to her dismay. “I just don’t get why I have to learn fighting with my hands when I can fight with guns and stuff.” She’d said.

“Tell you what… You do all your practice without complaining and I’ll teach you how to properly hold a knife.” You said. She agreed eagerly. After her hand to hand practice, an oath that she wouldn’t snitch to Silco on you for giving her a knife, and some basic grip practice, Jinx got bored and decided she wanted to color in your room. You agreed with a shrug.

“Do you ever talk to dead people?” Jinx asks you suddenly. You look up from your drawing of a dinosaur.

“Not anymore.” You say with a shrug. She looks up at you.

“You used to?”

“When I was about your age, yeah.” You say. She hums.

“Who’d you talk to?” She asks. You gulp.

“Uh, my parents mostly. My baby brothers, sometimes.”

“You had brothers?”

“Yeah. They were twins.”

“Cool!” She says. “Twins are super freaky!” You laugh. “I wish I had a twin. You know they have telepathy?”

“I think that’s just a myth.”

“No way.” Jinx says. “They totally do.” She returns to her drawing, humming.

“Who do you talk to?”

“My brothers. Sometimes Vander.”

“‘S that your dad?”

“No, I don’t remember my parents.” Jinx says. Your heart breaks for the poor kid. She’s clearly been through a lot. “Look!” She says, holding her paper up for you to examine. Two stick figures are framed by a rainbow of squiggles.

“You and Silco?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice. I like your hair in this one.” You say, pointing to the blue spikes sprouting from picture-Jinx’s head. “Where’s the rest of the crew?” You ask. Jinx pulls her page back and scribbles away to squeeze in some more figures. You watch in amusement as she draws. Ten minutes later, she finishes, turning her drawing around for your inspection. You laugh at the additional figures she’s added.

You can identify Singed and Deckard by the purple squiggles on their skin. Ran’s bangs make them easy to spot. The figure holding a bottle is obviously Theriam, the one with a red splotch on her neck is you. You particularly admire Jinx’s choice to color Lock’s tattoos green. You point to a figure with horns. “Who’s that one?” You ask.

“Sevika, duh.” She says. You laugh.

“What’s with the horns?”

“She’s evil.” Jinx whispers to you. You chuckle.

“What makes you say that? Silco likes her.”

“She hates me. She’s mean. She calls me ‘booger brains.’” You snort. “It’s not funny!” Jinx screeches.

“Sorry, sorry.” You say. “You should show that one to Silco. He’s gonna wanna hang it up.” You say.

“You think!?” Jinx asks, excited. You nod. She launches to her feet and takes off. You laugh as her little footsteps fade away as she runs to the other side of the building.

You slowly push yourself off the ground to follow after Jinx, your sides aching. You shuffle out of your room and start down the hall. When you finally catch up to her, she’s already standing beside where Silco sits at his desk, shoving her drawing in his face. He’s enamored, pointing to various figures on the page and listening to Jinx’s explanation of who they were meant to be. You smile from outside the office at the sweet family scene. Behind you, someone scoffs.

You whip around. Sevika’s looming behind you, watching the pair with a grimace.

“Hi.” You say. Sevika’s eyes flick to you, then back to Silco and Jinx.

“We’ve got a meeting.” She gruffs out, not looking at you.

“Oh. Cool.” You say. She scoffs again.

“You stupid or something?” She asks. You freeze.

“Sorry?”

“Go do your job and get the brat to scram so we can get to our meeting!” Sevika says. You blink in shock.

“My--wha--you--” You start, trying to figure out where to even begin with a reply to her demand. “You do it!” You spit out. Sevika finally looks at you. “You’re his personal assistant, you’re the one who’s gotta keep him on schedule.” You say.

“I’m not his fucking personal assistant.” Sevika growls, taking a step toward you. “You’re fucking lucky you’re--”

“Sevika!” Silco calls out from his office. Sevika freezes, two inches from your face, her face in a scowl. “Come in, we have to go over these numbers before our meeting.” She growls, then turns, hip checking Jinx when she passes her. Jinx grunts and stumbles, then turns around to stick her tongue out at Sevika. Sevika flips her off.

“Did you see that?!” Jinx asks you, scandalized. Sevika rolls her eyes.

“Jinx, Sevika, please. Some civility.” Silco grumbles, massaging his temples.

“She pushed me!” Jinx exclaims.

“If I pushed you, you’d be flat on your tiny ass.” Sevika snaps. Silco rubs his temples.

“Come on Jinx. Let’s go see what kinda juice Theriam’s got on tap.” You say. Jinx slinks out of the room, and Sevika’s eyes flick to yours. She scowls at you.

“Is she always like that?” You ask Jinx as you lead her down the hall toward the stairs. Jinx lets out a long suffering sigh.

“Always.”

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you

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nihilnovisubsole · 8 months

Text

i wasn't going to keep cluttering people's dashes up with my ffxiv stream-of-consciousness posts. but after a chance run-in with @arcanistvysoren in the dusk vigil one night, i was encouraged to make more. so, hey! heavensward! that was a lot!

one thing you can always count on final fantasy to do is give you leitmotifs. sad scene? leitmotif. climactic battle? leitmotif. quest accepted? leitmotif. hey, dragonsong is nice. why not?

it's difficult to overstate how habitually this game throws beautiful atmosphere at you and makes it look effortless. i know i keep repeating myself, but it keeps being true. the quiet desolation of riding through the coerthas western highlands at night with a blizzard battering you and fog obscuring the horizon. ough

i was looking forward to royce's role as a self-exiled ishgardian in this part of the story, and i was very much not let down. heavensward spends a lot of time emphasizing what an irreplaceable asset the warrior of light becomes to ishgard, so the bitter taste that she would have experienced during the early coerthas ARR quests rises to a nauseating pitch. oh, now the ishgardian authorities care. now they want her around. now they want to heap praise on her for pulling them out of the fire. when they did nothing to help save her squad five years ago and went damnatio memoriae on her when she vanished. they're lucky she's too heroic to let them burn.

i'm not exactly sure how she works through her feelings by the end. i'll have to think about it. write about it, maybe. we'll see.

the dragon plot is fine. it works! it's cool! it's all very mythic in scale and appropriately tragic. i'm just more drawn to the expansion's mundane side. it's easy for final fantasy to get carried away with itself when it's got aether and primals and multiverses flying around, so we need the periods where we deal with interpersonal conflict to keep it grounded and speak to lived human experience.

i mean, the windows into how ignorant ishgardian citizens are and how deep their religious indoctrination actually goes? that's meaty. a church covering up everything from their archbishop's love child to the history their core theology was founded on? that's the good stuff

god, it's hilarious how much estinien and aymeric were engineered in a lab for fans to fall in love with them. they're elves, they're tall, they have deep voices and piercing eyes and swooshy hair, they're brooding, they're burdened with great and terrible responsibility. estinien is beat-for-beat the "character 1" archetype of otome games: mysterious and mean, but defrosts over his story arc. you have dinner at aymeric's house! the dev team had to know that these fellows were going to have a following and leaned into it.

actually, wait, does aymeric fall into the "responsible authority figure" otome archetype? is haurchefant the "flirty, excitable younger guy" archetype? am i onto something here? pepesilvia.jpg

poor haurchefant ):

speaking of characters, cid is growing on me. i didn't pay much attention to him in ARR, but i like that he continues to play a major role. he's a fun guy to have around. royce draws heavily from cyan garamonde, who's a notorious technophobe, and i wonder whether she inherited some of that character DNA too. you are a good man and i trust you but do not dare augment my lance. more power means more parts to break. cold steel will never fail you

the vault and baelsar's wall are awesome as dungeons, but lol, lmao. there is something to be said for bark trigger volume. filthy rats! [crackling fireball noise] sickness must be purged! [explosion] filthy rats! [griffin sword swing] sloppyyy!! [another explosion] sickness must be purged!

i have finally found a part of the game i dislike: leap of faith. UGHHH. why am i good at every GATE except that one. UGHHH

oh i have THOUGHTS about that duel with raubahn

emmanellain's job is just beach

#ffxiv

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christinesficrecs · 1 year

Note

Hii I love your fic recs!! Can you recommend me some sterek fics with soft derek? Mostly canon or canon complient ? But alternate universe is fine too.

Hii can you please recommend me some soft derek/ maybe feminine derek fics. I just really want to read some soft derek fics.

Let me just say, I mostly had no idea where to go with this. 🤦🏻‍♀️ Also, I did restrain myself from making this nothing but Derek + kittens fics. It was really hard though. 🥰

Kintsugi by artemis69 | 7.8K

Derek is too big, and strong, and a werewolf. He knows perfectly well what men are and aren’t allowed to be.

Stiles would beg to differ.

In which there are pretty boys, flowers, panties, glitter, and Stiles gives a heartfelt fuck you to the concept of toxic masculinity.

Kittens Can Happen to Anyone by tsukinofaerii | 3.8K

When Stiles shows up at Derek's door with a box of orphaned kittens, Derek has no idea what he's getting into. With the cats, either.

I'm Setting the Standard for Living a Dream by skoosiepants | 2.9K

Derek is scowling at the camera, Henley unbuttoned. He looks sleep-mussed and unamused and there are two fuzzy balls of floof cradled in his arms. One is pawing at Derek’s mouth, the other is asleep in the curve of his elbow. Both are stripy orange and fluffy-furred with pink noses and pink beans, they are so super cute it makes Stiles’s eyes water a little.

five times Derek and Stiles weren't actually boyfriends (and one time they were) by HalfFizzbin | 2.8K

In which Derek and Stiles are essentially a married couple. Except they're not actually dating.

i wait for you like a lonely house by bleep0bleep | 4.5K

Derek isn’t sure why he buys the house. He doesn’t need the space, that much is certain. While it’s not as big as the one Derek grew up in, something about the cheerful yellow paint and the wide staircase (with banisters wide enough for children to slide down) draws him in.

Wait by cutloosemcgoose | 23.4K | Explicit

Sitting on his couch, staring at the wall, it feels like Derek is watching his whole, miserable, lonely life flash before his eyes. He’s twenty four and he’s alone. No family, no friends, no real pack. He’s six days away from spending one of the most family-oriented holidays of the year trying to avoid any human interaction. If anyone could see him right now, they would tell him he looks pathetic. If Laura could see him right now, she would probably beat the crap of him and then tell him he’s a loser.

Babcia Knows Best by thepsychicclam | 11.8K

Stiles takes his grandmother to bingo every Thursday. Now there's a new guy calling out the numbers, and his grandmother has decided to set them up.

Somebody That I Used to Know by PercyByssheShelley | 10.3K | Mature

Stiles and Derek have been together for months.

The trouble is, they weren't yesterday.

36 Questions by Leslie_Knope | 8K

“So I’m doing my senior psych thesis on friendships,” Erica says, not-so-accidentally elbowing Derek in the ribs as she turns to face Stiles. “How they develop, how intimacy is fostered, stuff like that.”

“That’s cool,” Stiles says agreeably. “What’s our part?”

“Well, I can’t really tell you the point because that would influence the results. But it’s a set of 36 questions that you have to ask each other.”

“Just the two of us?” Derek chimes in, finally, and Stiles sighs.

“Okay, dude,” he says, making a face, “could you try not to look quite so offended? Like, my ego’s pretty strong, but come on, man.”

Not Quite Lost (Not Quite Found) by alocalband | 25K | Explicit

A year after the nogitsune is defeated, Derek is living a quiet life in the mountains above a small town in Colorado.

Then Stiles shows up.

Maybe Someday (I'll Be Home For Next Year) by ofherlionheart | 16.3K

Derek Hale meets a Mabel Stilinski while living in New York. He learns that she has a grandson. There are miscommunications, scarves, stealth-matchmaking plans, and cookies. Many, many cookies.

#asks #sterek fics #ficrecs #sourwolfsprettyeyes #soft derek #dere hale deserves nice things #stiles is a nice thing #domestic derek #domestic sterek #derek loves cats

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clinically-not-straight · 4 months

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I think banksy isn't a particularly great person in regards to what he has shown me about art and design stuff. Like, sure he made it to the top from being a street artist/graffitist, cool as shit, love to see a guy winning. Less of a fan of the bit where he started pretty much just making cool looking stuff for rich people and not being a graffitist.

This isn't me saying he shouldn't have changed or progressed; good for him, etc. I am saying his work has became gentrified. See, Banksy was a graffitist, like that guy that lives near you that draws dicks on bins or the one that did a really good spray of a cartoon character at your local skatepark. Now, that is illegal, even in most skateparks, and i wouldn't care about that if it wasn't the reason for my first issue.

So, if you get seen graffiti-ing you get arrested or whatever, even if you're on a public wall where people are allowed to, because nobody knows that those are a thing half the time and assume you're a criminal (not that I'd care if you were). After you make your shit its not over still because now you get chucked into this lot of people that are considered vandals because they dared to draw something on a wall, you're now in the same lot of people that smash up bus stops for no reason, isn't that fair?

Now, banksy is banksy so he doesn't get that same treatment. He gets praised for it, and his work get protected, unlike most graffiti. So now just he is allowed to graffiti shit, him and his team, apparently there are a few of him now. But at least that's the end of it, at least he's just some guy that is allowed to graffiti because he transcended the law, good on him.

Anyway, its not just that, number 2 is he is gentrification incarnate. People started protecting the areas his work was on and selling it and shit (I don't quite remember the details of that, but apparently people tried to sell the walls themselves)

(From my stupid fucking friend, luv u bby)

So he's a lil bit corporate, but that can't be on prupose right? Like, you wouldn't just make artwork that vaguely gestures toward having some kind of meaning whilst not addressing said thing that the meaning should address, right? You wouldn't use vagueness as a means of making something palatable to corporate fucks whilst also removing any depth to it, right?

Banksy come on man.

I can imagin that bouquet as a pepsi can and it has more meaning there. The satire, underlying message, just a bit of the funny.

The vagueness of it all really serves as a nice mask for it. This came from a thing that says "Banksy advocates for peace" what peace? Where? In regards to what? That looks like a rioter; it seems like the government pissed people off a bit too much and the rioter is reacting adequately. The headlining plus the image make it seem like Banksy is calling rioter out for being violent, but I'll put it down to the headline being a headline. Here's another:

See now because I know my deal with recycling and stuff I can say this is about microplastics and how melting plastic for recycling isn't great still because of the fumes and shit, and I think that's great. But let's be real here, what is it actually saying? Its probably more along the lines of "man, things are kinda bad, but this kid has childlike wonder so he doesn't notice. You are the kid and you don't see the bad" or something like that.

But maybe its not and maybe he's being genuine. Maybe plastic being thrown into our atmosphere is a big deal to him. I want to see it as that, so I'm gonna, I think.

Don't those fences look a bit oddly placed though? Round the sides of the graffiti, them ones... well that leads me onto an entirely new point.

What is graffiti?

According to the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language one definition is "a form of vandalism involving painting, text or images in public spaces"

So the crime thing from the start, yeah whatever, you already mentioned that dipshit.

So what the fuck is this headline then? Is banksy's art not graffiti? When does it become socially acceptable art? Isn't it a thing in graffiti that we're aware nothing is permanent so that's why people draw over others' shit? Why can't we play by his rules and draw too? That doesn't seem fair.

You know, I've saw things about banksy's work getting done in an alley once, there was a layer of plastic added onto it so that people wouldn't vandalise the vandalism. Apparently passing graffiti artists would piss on it as they went by. Again, apparently, I cannot find where I saw that but its incredibly funny.

But note that headline, "Banksy Art in Folkestone Vandalised by Graffiti." Where is the cut off point here? Why is that one art and the other is graffiti? Why does Banksy's get called art and the others get called vandalism? To clarify, Banksy's work, because of how known and unknown he and his team are, is called art, without question from news sources and headlines and shit. Yes, I do remember there was initially a whole thing about him just being some guy, but now he's celebrated for it, and that's what I'm drawing attention to here.

Even the BBC addresses it, his work is something that should be considered vandalism but isn't. Someone liked it, then rich people started picking up on it and now people have tried selling walls because of it.

So maybe this isn't so much a comment on Banksy...

Arguably, to me at least, this is more of a comment on the audience his work has garnered. Do I think his work is bad? No, actually. In fact, even if the symbolism or imagery means little to me in some places, I'd argue they're really good, I know what I'm thinking of when I think of his work and for such a reason, they stick. The colour usage is fine, the stencils used are probably ones he cut himself, he's home-made. It's all not that bad.

The issue is simply the audience it has gained. A large proportion of it are people that hate graffiti but love banksy, a graffiti artist; already you can see the issue. Most of them are little rich weirdos that love graffiti as long as its up to a certain standard and isn't on their property, then they can have it phoographed and put on a canvas in their house, on their wall, in their property... you can see the point I'm getting at with the sort of people I see enjoying his work.

I do think his work wouldn't garner the same audience if it weren't the way it were. The rioter with a bouquet for example; you can see it as a call for peace, which is incredibly shallow and is blaming somebody that has been dicked over by the system, as many people would, especially with the piece being out there in public for everyone; you can alternatively make the comparison the bouquet throwing mirrors the throwing of flowers n shit at the end if races, a congratulation for being remembered as a tyrant or whatever. But because the piece, to my knowledge, has not had much meaning applied to it explicitly, by banksy, then the public makes the meaning, and the public has decided its a call for peace.

Simply put, banksy is not necessarily a bad artist but the audience that decides on the worth of his work aren't great in discerning a message from art. We know war is bad, we know our government is fucking us, but I'm sure you can come up with something more creative than that.

Fucking sick that Banksy got where he is, he somehow beat the law and is loved for it, came up from nothing, and is still pretty much unknown. Love that for him. I just think his audience could use some work.

Oh yeah and he's from Bristol which is unacceptable.

#so I don't hate banksy I suppise #but his artwork qhen mixed with his audience leaves a lot to be desired #don't even get me started on the shredder thing #cool as fuck but didn't it make the pic worth more?#banksy #graffiti #street art

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polarisbibliotheque · 1 year

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97;Vergil!!

You have NO IDEA how much I started laughing when I saw this was the song for the first one of the Spotify Wrapped Special requests xD

I mean, the lyrics kinda go pretty well with Vergil, but the chaos and viciousness of the song is directly opposit to the blue devil. Nevertheless, pulled it off: started dumb and ended on a sweet note!

Spotify Wrapped Special: 97, Vergil - Reckless Life, by Guns n' Roses

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: Dante gets bored easy - specially when Vergil keeps reading his poetry in silence. It's time to go out and have some fun: the red devil has a thing or two to show you about your beloved blue devil.

Author's notes: I once saw a drawing on pinterest with Vergil answering the phone at the shop while having drumsticks in his hands and drummer Vergil has lived rent free in my mind ever since. I didn't pin it and have no idea who the artist is (pinterest being shitty with people pinning other's art and not crediting it), so I'm writing this to curse you all with the image of drummer Vergil as well, enjoy :)

About the Song: Reckless Life is from Guns n' Roses' album, Lies. It features Slash screaming at the beginning, it's kinda short and fast-paced. Gn'R has a lot of punk influences, Duff (their bassist) being one of the guys from the punk scene in Seattle before moving to LA and joining Gn'R. Even if there's a lot of blues in their music, more so on Use Your Illusion 1 & 2 albums, they always have the crazy, fast-paced, vicious, quick punk rock songs - this is one of them. The lyrics are about their reckless rock n' roll lifestyle, so it kinda suits the song in general.

This isn't researched, I just thought it'd be nice to leave my two cents on the songs that end up here. I'm a crazy music lover and could talk about it all day, so feel free to skip these "about the song" bits if it isn't to your liking ^^

youtube

97, Vergil – Reckless Life, by Guns n’ Roses

“Man… You gotta learn to have a lil’ more fun in that life of yours!”

As always, Dante was sitting on his huge chair, leaning on the desk while looking at his brother. Vergil, in the other hand, had his legs crossed, sitting with a perfect posture on the couch – limiting himself to only raise his silvery eyes from the pages of his current read.

“I am having fun.”

As he muttered in response, Dante just glanced at you with exasperation in his sky-blue eyes.

“Hey, he’s your brother. Don’t look at me like that.” You shrugged, leaning on his desk while skimming over the magazine that was left there for half a year.

“Hell sure wrecked your sense of fun…” Dante sighed, slapping the desk while suddenly getting up. You and Vergil just stared at the red devil. “We’re goin’ out! C’mon, get yourselves ready!”

“We don’t have enough money for whatever you want to do, Dante…” Vergil just rolled his eyes, turning them back to his book.

You held back a laugh. They were perfect for each other; you would always stand by that.

“We don’t need money, ass-hat!” With that, Dante gently kicked Vergil’s foot, making his brother stare at him as if summoned swords would suddenly pin Dante on the wall. “Gotta show ya how to live this life, c’mon. Let’s go!”

You didn’t argue. Leaving the magazine back on the desk – which would probably stay there for another half year – you took your leather jacket and waited by the door.

“You’re going along with this, huh…?” Vergil’s words were slow, and his eyes were piercing, but you were already used to that, just shrugging in response. He sighed, heavily. “I am going to regret this…”

“Hey, wanna see somethin’ cool?”

A slight smile appeared on your lips as Dante leaned by your side on the bar and nudged you with his shoulder.

“Why do I have the feeling it involves vexing Vergil…?” You looked back at the red devil with a smart look in the corner of your eyes, making Dante flash you a positively mischievous grin.

“Because annoying him is usually cool.” Dante winked at you. “Since we were kids, sweetheart.”

Vergil came back with a couple more drinks for each of you – both had done a job for the bar owner and the poor man wrongfully gave the Spardas the honor of never having to pay for anything in the bar.

Indeed, you didn’t need money to have fun that night. Point for Dante.

“Ya know, I can play the guitar like a beast…” Dante suddenly started talking a little too loud, obviously for Vergil’s ears. “But I bet Shakespeare over here completely forgot how to play something cool instead of only his boring violin songs.”

“It isn’t boring, it’s classical music.” Vergil glanced at his brother with an icy look. “You should try it sometime. It might get something into that foolish head of yours.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve already heard Dante blasting classical music.” You had to point that out. Of course, it wasn’t the brooding music type Vergil enjoyed, but the more energic ones. Mozart was an all time favorite of the red devil. “No. It wasn’t Bohemian Rhapsody, although I do count that as a classical song.”

“Who doesn’t?” Dante agreed but kept on speaking as soon as Vergil opened his mouth to argue. “Anyway. Bet’cha can’t play drums like the good ol’ days, smart pants.”

You immediately glanced at Vergil, mouth slightly open. The blue devil noticed your glare but didn’t give in: he had only a stern look to his brother.

“You play drums…? Really…?!” Oh, yes. That night was surely turning into something very interesting.

“I don’t find it that surprising.” Vergil had one of his eyebrows raised, his icy look still in his eyes. The rosy tone on his cheeks, on the other hand, gave away how the alcohol was starting to affect him – even if just a little.

“We used to have a band when we were kids, sweetheart.” Dante leaned on the bar again; his cheeks also rosy. His behavior and cocky smile gave away how much the alcohol was getting to the son of Sparda, though. “The Hell Brothers. Dad laughed a lot when we told ‘im the name.”

“Mom thought it was terrible.” Vergil chuckled as he reminisced alongside his brother. Not something you would see every day. “I thought it was fitting.”

“On that, we agree!” Dante laughed at him, but scoffed right after. “The good ol’ days are gone, now. Smart pants over here probably forgot everything.”

“Well, for your information…” As soon as Vergil started talking, you had to hold back your laugh. He didn’t let that side of him come out much, but the mix of alcohol and Dante taunting him, made Vergil lift one of his fingers and get this professorial look while standing tall. You had to say, you loved it. “I do remember. I even picked up a few songs after we grew apart.”

“Really?!” You and Dante asked at the same time, leaning towards Vergil with an unsurmountable amount of interest in your eyes.

He was a sitting duck, willingly entering the predator’s nest – you and Dante. Poor Vergil didn’t even see it coming.

“Bet’cha can’t play on stage with me.” Dante smacked the bar; his sky-blue eyes fiery like his devil trigger. “You don’t have the balls.”

“I don’t, huh…?” Vergil’s silvery eyes carried Dante’s taunt, with a different fire – one filled with competition.

Both of them had that issue – but Vergil held on to his pride even to survive. It was his pride that dragged him out of Hell – and it was his pride that made him fall into the stupidest of bets alongside his brother. Vergil’s beautiful strength but ultimate fatal flaw.

You couldn’t help but smile. Such a dumb, wonderful powerhouse of a man-demon.

“Never had, Verge. You’d say you don’t want to look foolish…” While talking, Dante threw his hair back, making his voice darker and raspier, impersonating his twin. You snorted while drinking, having to spit it back in your glass – definitely not one of your most wonderful moments, but that lit something inside Vergil: he was being made fun of and you couldn’t hold back your laugh. The game was on, right then and there. “But we both know it’s ‘cause you don’t have the balls to go on stage and show your skills. Must be all old and rusty.”

Vergil didn’t even answer. He just took off his coat.

You stared back at him, eyebrows furrowed. It was rare, but there was Vergil wearing his leathery vest, arms completely free and hands covered only by his old gloves. He usually sported this look while training with family – you and everyone in the crew included – but it was very unusual for him to have bare arms on the streets. He gave you his treasured coat, making you immediately hold it.

“Save it for me, please.” With that phrase, Vergil turned the glass with his drink in one shot, drinking it as if it was water. You looked even more baffled. “So. Are we going or what? Don’t you have the balls, Dante…?”

You turned back at Dante – eyes wide and a surprised smile on your lips; but no surprise was better than the one stamped on the red devil’s face. Dante finished his own drink in one shot as well, laughing in the process.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about! C’mon, smart pants!” He got up, clapping in excitement. Turning back at you, Dante winked while talking. “Get ready to see The Hell Brothers, sweetheart!”

You watched in awe as Dante had a word with the band playing that night. When they looked at Vergil – arms crossed, just staring at them – the men shrugged and figured why not. After all, everyone there knew Dante and a favor could be collected as a favor later – in case they had any problems with demons.

The bassist and vocalist went to the band area with the Sparda brothers – Dante using a pick from the guitarist and Vergil with the drumsticks from the drummer. You could hardly believe that was happening, in all honesty.

“Hey, bitches! Pay attention, we got new guys playin’ this one with us!” The vocalist took the cigarette out of his mouth to scream on the mic, making everyone turn to them. “They call themselves The Hell Brothers, a mouthful, huh?! Let’s burn this place down then!”

“Wat’cha wanna play, Verge? What do you remember?” Dante turned to his brother, who was testing the pedals while the vocalist was speaking. Vergil just lifted his silver eyes to his twin; a smirk playing in the corner of his lips.

“You know this one. Try to keep up.”

With those words, Vergil hit the cymbals four times before releasing all his strength on the snare drum – Dante immediately smiled, knowing very well which song was. He didn’t expect that from Vergil but hey, he didn’t even expect his brother to accept playing with him again either. As soon as the cue for the guitar came in, Dante began the fast and vicious riff of Reckless Life.

“I’m reckless and feelin’ no pain, you know I’ve got no need to control! Livin’ with the danger, I’m always on the edge now, with million dollar visions that I hold!”

Fast and vicious was a nickname for both of them – although, as soon as the vocals started singing the screamed lyrics, you noticed Dante was able to slow down to simple chords, but Vergil remained on the same speedy beat, setting the quick punk rhythm for the whole band. He didn’t stop and it seemed he didn’t lose both rhythm and strength.

That was another thing you noticed while watching him: Vergil followed his twin brother and played like a beast, almost as if he envied Tommy Lee himself. You argued the drummer of Mötley Crüe was one of the most entertaining to watch just from the sheer strength he used to play, but Vergil… He wasn’t much different, if you had to admit.

There was something raw, brutal in the way he played. Nothing like the refined emotions Vergil could sing with his violin… That was his baser instinct, his devil coming out. Indeed, they were the Hell Brothers: you could see a facet of Vergil he so very rarely let out.

On the brink of the riff, Vergil already had sweat dripping from his forehead – arms slightly glistening from it. You opened a bright smile when you saw him singing along to the lyrics just before the riff, closing his eyes as he played with his feelings overflowing.

“Livin’ like this never ever tore my life apart, I know how to maintain, ‘cause it’s comin’ from my heart!”

There was something of beautiful about his fangs slightly showing and the savage light on his eyes as Vergil opened them again – meeting yours for a brief moment. You smiled back at him, singing along the lyrics. And that, made him smile back – a cocky smirk, but nonetheless, a beautiful one.

“I lead a reckless life! And I don’t need your advice! I lead a reckless life! And you know, it’s my only vice!”

It was one of your favorite parts of the song really, just how the drums followed perfectly the guitar solo. As Dante shredded as well as Slash himself, he turned to the drums, finding Vergil’s eyes. The brothers smiled at each other for a glimpse of a second – something that made you scream, rooting for them. Dante was going all out on the guitar, and Vergil was following it – you didn’t want any of them to have a sudden moment of logic that could spiral them into their usually depressive thoughts. They were having fun, as brothers, after so long.

You could only imagine how Eva and Sparda were proud of them playing together as kids even if they weren’t that good when they were young – something you doubted wholeheartedly.

Planting one foot on the bass drum, Dante kept soloing while Vergil quickly rolled his eyes – either way, he kept on playing, never allowing Dante to slow down for a second. He kept the vicious rhythm, complimenting Dante with cymbals and snare drums whenever the song called for it.

You could swear the drum was going to fall apart at the end, really.

“Reckless life! I lead a reckless life!”

A small pause on it made Vergil rest the drumsticks on the snare drums, throwing his head back so his hair could go back to its place – the white locks were dripping with sweat and his neck was glistening as it seemed like he had just come out of a swimming pool. Vergil could try all he wanted, but his hair was already coming down his eyes – but it didn’t really seem like he cared at the moment.

With a breath for the last riff, the fierce rhythm came back, only to wrap up with him smashing the cymbals and snare drums in the same rhythm Dante stroke his chords, the bass drum never stopping for a second. You could see how both of the Sparda brothers could vent their frustrations and endless energy on rock and roll.

As they wrapped up the song, you got up from your bar stool, raising both arms and screaming as if you were seeing Guns n’ Roses themselves. The whole bar was fired up with energy, screaming and applauding, asking for more. Vergil left the drumsticks on the drum snare and threw his dampened hair back once more, as he always did.

“Hey guys, that was great! Wanna go for another song?” The vocalist covered the mic, turning to the twins as you approached quickly with Vergil’s coat in your arms.

“Eh, I dunno. Mister frowny face here doesn’t really play anymore, this was probably a one-time thing.” Dante pointed at Vergil, who just observed his brother for a while. “Thanks, though. It’d be nice.”

“Hey! You guys playing more?!” You had a huge smile on your face, eyes glistening in the dimmed lights of the bar.

“They don’t seem like they will, angel.” The vocalist sighed, placing one of his hands on his waist and smiling at you. He looked back at Dante and Vergil. “That’s ya dove?”

“Yes. That is my dove…” Vergil murmured in response, throwing his hair back one more time. “You would like to hear more, love…?”

“Hell yes I would!” The excitement in your answer made Vergil let out a quick laugh, turning his eyes back to Dante.

“Can you keep up?”

“Hell yeah I can, ass-hat!” Dante laughed, taking off his coat now. It was hot and the night was just starting. “Keep an eye on this for me, sweetheart?”

“No worries, red devil.” You winked back, placing Dante’s coat alongside Vergil’s.

You ended up on the table with the other members of the band – who were quite happy to take some time off and drink while listening to good music for a change. No one would mess with you, obviously, after knowing you were the Hell Brothers drummer's partner.

As the vocalist announced their next song and they tuned their instruments, Vergil still kept his gaze on his brother. It was something he had forgotten about – that feeling of playing with Dante, of having a brother. Of course, Vergil loved music and playing his violin was always satisfactory – but playing with Dante in a band had a different dynamic; a dynamic that couldn’t be replaced by any instrument in the world.

The songs they played together might not be the most refined and beautifully composed in the world, but they spoke to a baser instinct only they knew was there – and only they would understand in each other.

“I missed this.” Vergil’s tone was dark as always, but Dante’s ears were attuned enough to his brother’s voice, making him turn back to Vergil immediately. His twin’s eyes, for a change, looked like molten platinum. “I like playing with you, Dante.”

“I like playing with you as well.” Dante smiled back, his sky-blue eyes carrying the love he never stopped feeling for his brother – even after the most despicable things Vergil did, Dante would never stop loving him. “I missed you so much, Verge.”

As a spectator, you could only see the genuine and heartfelt smile that painted Vergil’s lips – and how his eyes were vulnerable. Looking back at Dante, he carried the same expression – as if both brothers would allow some tears to fall before playing; sharing something only they knew about.

You could watch them playing together for the rest of your life.

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