#This is also why this pieces are a bit different from my previous ones

[cowbell-ghuleh]

Skeleta thoughts.

Errr... I just kept writing with this and it turned into a long rambling essay... Idk if anyone is gonna read it but I wanted to get my thoughts down.

One of my vinyls arrived unexpectedly today. Wasn't as stressed out from work as I was expecting so I listened to it. And wow I have a lot to say.

I like it a lot overall, it's an utterly beautiful work of art. I don't think it quite replaces Prequelle as my favourite, but omg this thing is fascinating!

It's definitely a work of art that requires you to engage with it and think. It demands you give it all your attention to fully understand it and appreciate all the themes and layers in the music.

It also feels like an incredibly personal piece to Tobias, moreso than any other Ghost album, and I kinda feel privileged he's willing to share that much of himself with us. Considering he's said Impera burnt him out, I'm glad he was able to write Skeleta to recover without worrying about critics or creating a creatively bankrupt sequel to Imperia.

I'm Gonna need to sit with it, and listen to it, for a while more before really solidifying how I feel about it (that's kinda normal for me, didn't like twenties at first for example and now I love it). This is written after two listens to the album followed by listening to each song on loop.

Long essay below the cut, content warning contains a mention of Self Injury.

So to start off:

My vinyl...

I got the zoetrope version.

Unfortunately I can only see the pictures in focus at certain angles when it's spinning and even then I can't keep my eyes still long enough to see the animated effect. Idk if it's because I wear glasses, or if here's a trick to it I'm missing, or if you need a certain kind of record player. Still looks cool though!

I doubt I'm gonna ever play it again though... especially after my standard version arrives as I'm absolutely terrified of damaging it! Though I think I may have have a slightly miss pressed copy as I had problems with the B side.

The Music

This definitely does not sound like Copia or any previous Papa singing. It's distinctly Papa V, which I love. It's also wildly different from the previous Ghost albums, which in itself is a very Ghost thing to do. This era is entirely it's own thing and that's one of the reasons I love this band.

Some kinda silly / cheesy lyrics but this is the band that wrote Idol-latrine, "grabbing them all by the whoo-ha", " and "fecal trail across the land", so I don't really understand why people are complaining.

It's also a lot gentler / softer than Impera and other albums, there's no equivalent to Faith or Twenties or Mummy Dust here. Though given the more introspective nature of the album I'm not entirely sure if a more heavy/aggressive song would have fitted thematically.

A lot of the songs do kinda feel like they leave you hanging, lacking a proper conclusion, but that kinda works for an introspective emotional album. It feels like you're meant to sit with each song in silence for a bit to fully let their emotional weight land.

I have way more to say about the "new" songs as we've kinda discussed Satanised and Lachryma a lot by this point...

Peacefield

I can't be entirely analytical about this as it's one I heard first at my Rituals, particularly the Birmingham ritual, so it's forever tied to those joyful memories and feelings.

The perfect epilogue to Impera. As others have said it feels like emerging from the pain and trauma, breaking the cycle of empire, and moving on. The future may not be easy but there's hope and we can build something new.

It also sets up the new era, were traveling into dark waters, but we have each other.

As an introduction to Papa V it's also interesting, far less bombastic than Kaisarion, instead of a triumphant leader, we have someone taking your hand and leading you out of the fires and into the night.

Personally I really like this one, feels like the kind of 80s rock anthem that'd score the credits of a fantasy or sci-fi movie.

Though it did make me cry, Mainly due to emotion from the rituals

Lachryma

The one with the music video that had Tumblr frothing at the mouth because they saw a man singing XD

With themes or self deceit and possibly imposter syndrome it hints at the dark places we're going.

Needless to say I love this.

Satanized

We've all been Satanised at this point.

Classic Ghost themes including criticism of religion, and very obvious "satanic" lyrics.

So much fun live too! An absolute banger.

Guiding lights

Kinda flow breaking after front loading the more heavy and rock anthem-y songs. Not in a bad way though.

A train suddenly screeching to a halt followed by Papa yelling "Hey you! Pay attention now! This is where he journey gets dark."

You suddenly get far less filtered (? Idk what the right term is), Raw vocals from Papa. But as you get into the song it gets beautiful but also desolate, as usual with ghost there's layers to the song that you really don't pick up on during a first listen.

It definitely has the effect on you Tobias probably intended. As he's said it's about being unable to talk to a friend who's going down a dark path.

From a personal perspective the sudden break in the flow definitely feels like the horrible moment you realise you've lost someone (in my case a family member) to their own hate, and there's nothing you can say to pull them out of that well. The rest feels like you're almost grieving for a relationship (platonic) lost.

Though I like it thematically, I'm not quite sure if I like it or not musically. I'm not sure if I'd add it to my regular rotation of songs if that makes sense.

De Profundus Borealis

Starts bleak and mellow, building into a power rock style march.

(I can't make out the Whispers at the beginning no idea if anyone has managed to decipher them.)

I don't know if TF ever said what the song is about, and maybe I'm projecting my own mental health issues into it.

But I interpret it as being about Regret and Self Hatred. Anger at, and being unable to forgive, yourself. Being unable to process your own emotions. The voices in your head at 3am that stop you sleeping. How you keep it locked up and frozen but eventually it thaws and the damn breaks, and all that pent up emotion turns inwards and destroys everything within you. (In my case usually manifesting as an SH episode.)

God the ending though, so bleak. Just feels like an empty pit in your stomach. The feeling of nothingness that comes after an episode.

Took a couple of listens but musically it hits the spot for me, idk if they're ever going to play it live but I could hear those riffs killing it in person.

It feels kinda nostalgic in a way but I can't place what / which band / song it reminds me off.

Ctenograph

Unfortunately my first listen to this was kinda "spoiled" because I think my vinyl is slightly warped or scratched on the B side. Fresh out the box and it was skipping and popping a lot...

Yeah... I like this one a lot. Fucking crying again though.

The feeling of grief never really going away but it also in a way means the people you loved never really go away too. Hopeful and comforting on its own way.

"Wherever I go, you're always there, riding next to me."

Definitely had thoughts about my Grandad... He's been on my mind a lot after seeing War of the Worlds last week, he was a big fan and it's a show I planned on seeing with him years ago but we were never able to.

Missilia Amori

Again had problems with it first play...

Gives me the same abuser / stalker talking to their victim vibes as DatHomL... Definitely gives me the creeps... The narrator must possess the object of his lust/love and if they refuse him they must be destroyed.

Given TF has said it's about how love can turn to hate that makes sense to me.

Musically it's not quite my taste, I don't dislike it, but I feel like it's one I'm gonna skip quite often. Then again I might grow to like it a lot more in future...

Marks of the Evil one

Another one that didn't play properly first listen... Skipped / jumped a lot.

Don't really have much to say about this one. I'm not really sure how to interpret it, or what emotion/feeling it's about, or "who" the marks are. Definitely feels like a slight dig at satanic panic and how certain Christians (usually those with a profit motive) see the devil everywhere.

Again it's a song I think I'm gonna have to sit with... Not sure if I like it or not.

Umbra

Full disclosure, this is not a song I can be analytical about...

First time I heard it was at my first ever concert (I kinda missed Peacefield at the Manchester ritual), so it's forever associated with those feelings and the pure joy I felt there.

I fell in love with it immediately, had the chorus stuck in my head all week which has never happened to me on one single listen to a song before, and I am so happy to be able to listen to it again.

I do think the live version is slightly better, but that's kinda to be expected for Ghost.

Though I definitely get more creepy vibes from the album version, like it's more about unhinged lust rather than love, which coming after Missilia Amori makes, this song seem way less comforting.

I've said it before but this song gives me chills and joy and makes me cry all at the same time.

Excelsis

Raw vocals again. Like guiding lights it feels like a stopping point. A real punch to the gut after the joy of Umbra.

While, it didn't effect me like Life Eternal did when I first heard that song, I appreciate what TF was going for. And it might be another song I need to sit with some more to fully get it. It's really reminding me if a Beatles song, but I cannot for the life of me figure out which Beatles song it is... Maybe it's just the raw vocals reminding me somewhat of Lennon...

As a cap to the album I like how it feels like Papa V taking your hand again. It's the end but that's okay we all walk this path in the end.

And like others have commented it's a fascinating contrast with Life Eternal from a character perspective. You've got Copia longing for a life eternal never wanting this to end, while Perpetua accepts his time is limited and that's okay. (I have more comments on that on the concluding thoughts.)

And holy shit though that ending. So bleak. Just drop the floor out from under us Tobias... Again it's an interesting response to Peacefield, if Perpetua is our something to believe in, here he is admitting he's scared and vulnerable too, human like all of us... (Again not something I could ever see Copia doing.)

Concluding thoughts

It's such an interesting contrast to Impera. Impera all bombastic and grand, and Skeleta is reserved and introspective. They really do complement each other so well. They feel like they have the same DNA but but express it in such radically different ways. Again

I kinda love how that feeds into the twin theming of Copia and Perpetua. The brash, extroverted, and limelight loving Copia forced into a behind the scenes role, Vs the reserved, introverted Perpetua who has suddenly been thrust into the spotlight.

----

Thank you so much to anyone who read this... I don't get to talk about Ghost irl and I really wanted somewhere to talk about this beautiful album!

[ferncassette]

Day 2: Shotgun

[copperrook]

Eugene's robe is real and it is mine.

You'll forgive me for not wearing it off-shoulder right at the mo, since Tumblr has a problem with tiddies and all.

Construction details under the cut

Now if you read my tags on the previous post, you'll know that it was my intention to make this robe out of some silk that had been languishing in my fabric storage, small problem though

Not all of it is black

(Left two are raw silk, different weights, right's a haboti silk scarf)

Now that's an easy enough fix

I did have to do about three passes to get them to match though, as black is a notoriously hard colour to dye

Next one must make a mock-up out of an inferior material, this here is poplin.

Now if you were just making this costume-quality, this material would be fine, slap on a collar, hem and overlock this guy and he'll do great, I'm just extra.

You'll also note the piecing on the shoulders here, that is because i did not have enough silk to cut it all in one piece

That picture to the right is how much in total was left as offcuts from all the silk used.

Fun huh?

Does also mean it's not floor length, but on the plus side it's my preferred length anyway

Eugene proper doesn't need to move his legs when walking after all

Anyways then it was just a matter of sewing the whole thing together (no pics, soz) most of it is machine sewn (silk thread) with top stitched flat felled seams, that includes the split in the back where it essentially runs from a flat felled seam to a hem by just pressing outwards and tucking under.

The entire collar was whipped stitched down on the inside within the seam allowance to avoid any top stitching lines on the outside or nasty flappy bits on the inside. (And because haboti LOVES to warp, which was not entirely circumvented with this method)

The arms eye seams were also hand finished with an invisible felling whip stitch, and the sleeve bottoms hemmed with a sort of invisible pad stitch.

The several days worth of hand stitching just listed is why this took me a while.

And so i chose a good-enough scarf for a shash-yeah jk i made the sash from scratch out of yet more Haboti silk and dyed it.

I don't think it's quite dark enough so I may dye it again later.

If you want a approx amount of fabric that's in this piece, the robe is a bit over 4 meters of silk Total?

And the sash is about 3mx70cm on top of that.

Now I'm gonna go luxuriate in this robe I stole from our fictional son, happy S3 E2 of Midnight Alley y'all!

[koenigami]

mullet-talk

“so-” he knows something's up. can hear it in your voice. the little lilt in it as you drag the short word, all while playing with the hair on the back of his head.

it’s not that he doesn’t like it. caleb’s craved your touch and warmth long enough, so that every caress of yours feels like a gift sent from heaven itself.

but the way you do it now, with your nails drawing idle shapes along the nape of his neck, twirling the ends of his hair around your fingertips in a way that it sends shivers through his body-

you have something on your mind, and whatever it is, it must have put you in an awfully good mood.

“when's the last time you cut your hair?”

caleb turns his head awkwardly around to look at you, so fast that he feels an uncomfortable twinge in his neck. he’s definitely been spending too much time on writing reports.

what kind of question is that?

he eyes you from head to toe as you sit beside him, all comfortable, looking anything but innocent because he’s known you for far too long to not see right through you. your arm's propped up on the back of the couch as your hand is still very much buried in his hair.

“i'm not sure… maybe around three weeks ago? why you asking, pipsqueak?”

he watches you bite the inside of your cheek as your gaze drifts from his eyes to his hair, a contemplative expression on your face. one would think you must be pondering over something very much important.

“so it grows quickly.” you conclude, and he’s not sure whether he should kiss the smile off your lips or be afraid of it. yet when you throw one leg over his thighs and position yourself so that you can comfortably stradle his lap, he freely accepts it and keeps you steady with his hands on your hips.

the hand on the back of his head moves to the front as you suddenly start combing your fingers through his fringe. first in one direction, then the other. then you part his hair in the middle but quickly ruffle it away when it doesn’t seem to look to your liking.

“hey.” his grip on you tightens, warm fingers digging into your waist and deconcentrating you from your little task at hand. “what’s this all about, baby? hm? if you want to play hairdresser so badly, i can go and buy you a doll.”

you roll your eyes and tousle his hair again for some good measure, not the slightest bit bothered by the way his hands slide closer to your backside in a silent warning. “don’t be ridiculous, caleb. the doll could never be as pretty as you are.”

with a squeak, you jump in his lap when he does end up giving your rear an enthusiastic squeeze, and eventually cease to mess around with his hair.

“what do you think of mullets?” you finally speak up as you lazily wrap your arms around his neck, that stupid grin back on your face.

“a… mullet? where is this coming from?”

eagerly, although also a little shyly, you retell the dream that you had last night about him and his completely different hairstyle. of course, you leave out the bits and pieces of it that make your heart beat a little faster and your face feel slightly warmer.

“oh, i see. so is that it? have all my qualities been reduced so heavily to my looks now that all you can think of is a new haircut?” again his grip on you tightens as he sizes you up with a raised brow and a charming smirk curving his lips. he scoffs indignantly with a breathy chuckle when you don’t deny his remark immediately.

only when his teeth graze your cheek, do you give up and splay both hands on his chest to push him back. “okay, okay. of course you have other qualities.”

with a firm squeeze on each peck that makes his eyes go wide, and your smile even brighter, you admit. “these aren’t so bad either.”

let's say that the qualities he proved to you afterwards weren’t far too different from those that transpired in your dream the previous night.

[makeupbychio]

THE suit // logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

Summary: Now that you are officially part of the x-men team you need a suit. After the help from Hank and Charles to make the suit you kept the final result as a secret to Logan until he saw you in your first mission in THE suit. More than one time you needed more than one suit, not just because Logan will rip off a lot of them, but for other reasons. 

Warnings: Jealous Logan and being a little bit of a brat, Hank and Charles cameo, insecurity towards your body and powers, use of your powers (ecokinesis), Logan being the best protective and comforting boyfriend, mentions of smut, suggestive language, mentions of pregnancy.

Words: 1.9k 

A/N: So thanks for the anon for the request!! Once again, a reminder that english is not my first language. I put angst, fluff and mentions of smut so I hope you like this. Also, reminder that this is a safe place for all body sizes so that's why I don’t mention specifics measurements for the suit. ALSO, you can read this with my previous Logan fic TRAINING SEASON, this is them days after you are officially an x-men. Enjoy, love y’all!! <3. 

italics = past. 

— — —

“Hold on, wait. Hank is going to do your suit?” Logan stopped the conversation. You two at the cafeteria grabbing a late night snack. You took the pause to give a bite to your apple. 

“What about it? The Professor told me Hank did all of them” you answered him without any worry in your mind and didn't  understand why he had that frowning look on his face.

”I think Storm should be in charge since your powers are related to nature too”. Logan suggested, trying not to be an asshole. You understand where this was going when he sighed. 

“But Lo, the Professor designed the suits, Hank is just going to sew it and for that he needs to take the correct measurements” you refreshed Logan’s mind, like if it wasn’t obvious that a suit was not going to sew it itself. 

So after that Logan just stopped insisting about it. He trusted Hank of course but something was itching his brain. If he knew you already had an appointment with Hank last week to take the first measurement and the Professor explaining to you how he designed it for you and your powers. 

“So, Y/N. If you didn’t know, Hank came up with the idea to make the suits bulletproof and for your powers we needed to incorporate more resistance to heat changes in case your whole body is on fire or ice. So we needed to play with all of the opposite and different scenarios of the element you were going to manipulate or become, please try it on”. Charles explained to you the work behind your suit. You just nodded, but the Professor can read your mind and know your excitement when you ran to change your clothes and came back with the suit on.

“So you can basically turn into stone one moment and then disappear like air, so we create something that can resist that range of changes, and also of course something to be comfortable for you”. Hank added, proud of the technology he put in the suit while you looked at yourself in the mirror. “You can try it and test what I’m talking about”. 

So you did it, always careful not to hurt them. They were so happy with the final results and you couldn’t thank them enough and can’t wait any longer to wear it. 

“See you next week, Y/N”. The Professor reminded you about the final meeting to correct some details. 

So after that late snack, you both went to bed and before your appointment with Hank, Logan just stopped by his office and greeted him with a casual smile. 

“Logan, how can I help you? Y/N is not here” Hank thought he was there to be with you once you tried on your suit. 

“Don’t worry, she’s still in bed sleeping in our room” Logan gave a cocky smile and highlighted the ‘our’. “Actually I’m here to help YOU. In case you needed help with her suit, just to let you know that I made you a list of her measurements” Logan handed him a piece of paper with the different sizes of the clothes you have. He really thought that was going to work. “You’re welcome, so you don’t have to take the measurements yourself” He smiles proud of himself. 

Hank laughed and didn’t want to ruin Logan’s intention. He just thanked him, if Logan knew the suit was ready in the lab for you to try it and make the last changes. 

“Oh! I almost forgot” Logan turned to Hank before leaving his office. “She’s the smartest person I know, don’t get offended so I’m pretty sure she’s going to give you some ideas for the suit” he made a pause imagining you giving instructions to Hank. “And her favorite color is purple” Logan finally leaves the room without letting Hank answer. Heading himself to the dining room proud of his work. 

Hours later, you went directly to the lab where Hank and the Professor told you to meet. “Okay Y/N so tell us how you feel it, if you want to change something” Hank looked at you looking in the mirror. 

It was really comfortable even when it was really tight to your body. You felt so much confidence, you saw the x mark on it, that wasn’t on the suit the last meeting you had. Also it made justice to your figure and your beautiful curves. 

“Thanks again, it fits perfectly. But Hank I just wanted to ask you if it’s possible if you could add something to the suit…” Hank is paying attention to you. “If there could be like- I don’t know- something for you guys to know which element I’m manipulating or about to, so you don’t get yourself hurt out there during a mission” you asked him nervously because they are the experts.

”Mmmhh, it’s a really good idea but the enemy can use that information too against us to advance an attack” Hank really liked the idea but they had a surprise for you. 

“So dear, we also wanted for you to try this suit too” the Professor went to reach the suit he was talking about. Hiding it inside a box that was wrapped like a gift. 

“Guys, what is this?” you were in total awe when you opened the box. They know how easily you get emotional. Tears are already forming in your eyes. 

“We wanted for you to have your own suit, something that will be just for YOU…” Hank started explaining. “All of us have something that characterizes ourselves and our powers, so someone told us your favorite color is purple and it contrasts perfectly the green that represents your powers…” Hanks kept talking because you went speechless. “I know it sounds cliché to add green for your ecokinesis, if you don’t like it we can change it” he suggested.

You just ran to hug them because it was perfect. “So for your ideas you gave us, we design this…” the Professor handed you another box, but this time smaller. You opened it so fast. “We created these gloves for the changes of elements. So you can use it in the field or on a daily basis” you tried on them immediately and it blew your mind the technology it has, how it’s connected to you to change the colors related to the element, it sparkles so that makes them AMAZING.

“The gloves are more for the missions, because with the suit you hold your powers in case you are not conscious. Also the gloves help you to give your attack a precise target. We’ll learn more about both items while training” Hank explained. 

So when you first wore the x-men suit, you were so nervous about the mission, about everything so you changed clothes in your room. Thinking if this was a good idea. Literally everyone was waiting for you to step into the plane. 

“I’m going” Storm was about to go and search for you when you stepped into the ship. “There you are! K’ let’s go” Storm yelled at Scott to go.

Logan almost fainted, his claws making an appearance without previous warning. He quickly put them back, he was so excited he couldn’t resist to stay close to you. His flirting helped you to stop your nerves. “Sugar, you look amazing…” he gave you a kiss on your check, sitting next to you on the ship. He came closer to your face, whispering “I hope they made like a hundred suits because as soon as we're back in the mansion I’m going to rip it off. God, I can’t wait” You tried to hide the redness of your face, you warned him to behave. 

“Logan, I’m pretty sure the Professor can read your mind, I don’t want to be kicked out of the missions. Or give us separated missions. Do you want me to be paired with Scott instead?” you asked him with a teasing smile. 

“I’m sorry, love. But did you see yourself in the mirror before coming?” Logan really insisted but not too much. “Don’t worry, you’re going to kick asses today and I’ll protect you till the end of times” 

Like I said before, Logan after that would take any opportunity to join you for fittings. Especially if something is different. Logan would be there next to you when you are not comfortable with your body. If you are not comfortable with your powers every time you discover something new about them. After years, he will always be there for you, sitting in front of you looking at you with awe and comforting you even when you’re were not feeling it. 

The only time you skipped a mission was when your suit was not crossing your figure. You tried on your x-men suit and your own suit they made you and it was not stretching enough. The team was on a rush so they let you stay at the mansion. 

Logan asked you when they were back about what happened and you just told him you were feeling under the weather. The Professor already knew the real reason. You distracted Logan enough for you to go to Hank's office. 

“Hi, Hank. Can I ask you something?” you stepped into the room worried. Hank welcomed you worried about your absence in the last mission. “I had a problem with the suit, actually both suits. Is it possible for the fabric to be even more stretchable?” you asked him. 

Next day, after telling Logan the truth about you expecting and how suddenly a big bump you had appeared. That time he almost fainted too. So both of you were in the lab, the Professor and Hank giving you the congratulations when Hank was taking notes of your new measurements for your suits.

“Be careful there, big boy” Logan growled at Hank when he put the measuring tape around your belly. Logan was so protective over you and now your baby. You laughed at him telling not to worry, Logan looking at you with charming eyes while you rub your belly looking at yourself in the mirror. So this was really happening, starting a family.

Hank explained to you your new suits, which were going to be more comfortable for you considering the bump was going to grow even more. But the only thing Logan could think about is to protect you even more out there in the field. 

“Lo, look at me. I can do this” you hold his face when back in the room he told you to reject some missions that were too dangerous just to be cautious. He was scared that if you got injured really bad in your state. He was not going to stop you from going to the missions, because he knows you are one of the strongest and with a single snap you can beat your enemy but he can’t help himself from worrying. “And if I’m not feeling good or at my best to fight I’ll stay here”. you kissed him to calm him down. 

“I know, mama. You are the baddest out there. They could never beat you even if they tried” Logan kissed you back and kneeled to kiss your belly. “I wonder which powers our baby is going to inherit”. Next time Logan went to Hank’s office was to ask for a tiny x-men suit to surprise you. Hank couldn’t say no to Logan because he found a really cute gesture from him even when he had a lot of work left to do. 

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

one of the reasons why i love ToA so much is the little bits and pieces of the gods we get to see.

so i guess this is really more of a 'this is why i love the gods so much' rather than my usual 'this is why i love ToA' post lmao

but fr, the gods are just sooooo much more fleshed out in ToA. they're more complex, and have these layers to them that pjo and hoo just Did Not convey (and really, only conveyed those things post publication of ToA, which came with the tools on how to decode the gods and read between the lines).

and i'm not even talking about Apollo here. he is by far the most fleshed out god we have because he's the pov character, but i also mean all 12 of the other olympians - they're just so juicy!!

like okay, sure, in pjo and hoo we get glimpses that Dionysus may care more than he lets on, but ToA CONFIRMS this, but not in an 'in your face' way - but in the 'Dionysus picks at Apollo like a little brother would' way, and in that FIRST interaction between Apollo and Dionysus, we can SEE what their relationship was like!!

Hermes is another VERY layered god, ESPECIALLY with pjo's context. but that context ONLY gains its own importance BECAUSE of the story ToA gives us - we would NOT have 'resigned to fate' Hermes without it. or embittered at his favorite brother Hermes. we love this Hermes eheheheheheheh

Artemis also gains more character, and is no longer just the stoic cool badass #Girlboss she's largely presented as - she's scared, she fears for Apollo, so much so she SPLITS. she comes RUNNING to help him in TTT as soon as she could, giving her a softer side, while simultaneously expands on her previous appearances and allowing us to see how she is unconsciously enabling the abuse Apollo's experienced. LAYERS !! !! !!

DEMETER. OOOHHH DEMETER ILY, IN MYTHOLOGY AND THE RRVERSE. BUT FOR COMPLETELY DIFFERENT REASONS LMAO

we can infer Demeter has basically shot herself in the foot by obsessing so much over Persephone, where she NEGLETS her other kids (ex: Lityerses, Meg). myth Demeter would NEVER but rrverse Demeter is still a fav BECAUSE of how flawed she is.

ARESSSSS do i even need to say anything. we KNOW Ares and Apollo are bros because of how often Apollo takes pot-shots at him in his dialogue LMAO true brother behavior

Hades is a chill uncle with Apollo in particular. i mean. *gestures* he used to purposefully mess up Apollo's aim when shooting for no reason. need i say more?

looking back i'm also a little intrigued by how little Poseidon was mentioned - perhaps lending credence to the idea that he and Apollo grew apart over the centuries?

also Hestia's position as the goddess of the hearth and home calls into question how passive she is on olympus BECAUSE of the shitshow it's become!! she defends it!! what has caused the hearth and home, the FIRSTBORN OF KRONOS, of the ENTIRE PANTHEON to be so stagnant in the face of this toxic cycle? the people want to know and so do i.

Hephaestus is trickier to pin down for me because he has little mention, but there's one SPECIFIC one that has stuck in my brain and its the "apollo missed an entire decade watching Hephaestus's newton's cradle INSIDE HIS OFFICE"

what was apollo doing in his office. and why did hephaestus - notorious introvert - let him stay in there. these are the questions we are all dying to know.

ATHENAAAAAAA !! !! !! !! !! that nod she gives apollo at the end. her bet on his SUCCESS. need i say more? she's bros with him trust <3 add in the mythology and it gets SPICY

Aphrodite is arguably a tricky one to pin down too, and honestly we as a fandom have probably taken more from the mythos to pin down her character than with the others, but she's sooooo interesting too!! the eldest olympian. powerful goddess. extremely cunning and ruthless. and yet she's seen as airheaded and vain by practically everyone.

makes you wonder who else is like that. *quick glance at our favorite god* i dunno who that could be. *whistles innocently*

and do i need to say anything about Zeus? about the tragedy of him falling into the cycle he was meant to break? ABOUT THE TRAGEDY OF HOW HE DEF WANTED TO BE A FATHER BUT HIS PARANOIA GOT THE BETTER OF HIM UNTIL HE NO LONGER WAS ONE??

*seizes you by the shoulders* HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS. HOW.

and ofc. one of my FAVORITE gods...Hera. oh, ho ho Hera. you do NOT deserve the hate you get <3 okay maybe a bit of irritation is warranted because you do pull off risky things in hoo but we stan a goddess who takes charge in this house.

YOU CAN'T CONVINCE ME SHE'S GONNA BE - well, nicer? is that the right word? - BETTER WITH APOLLO POST-TOA. AFTER SEEING EVERYTHING HE SUFFERED? AFTER SEEING HIM SHED THE MASK? AFTER JASON GRACE?

*pounds mercilessly on the table* I WILL NEVER NOT BE ANNOYING ABOUT THEM I LOVE THEM ALL INCLUDING THE BITS OF CHARACTER FROM THE MINOR GODS WE GET TOO!!

[leyavo]

| I am my father’s daughter |

💖 Dad!Price x Daughter!reader, eventual Soap x reader

PART SEVEN: John Price hasn’t seen or heard from his daughter in over year, but that changes when she calls him one night asking for help. 2914words

TW: hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/ complicated father-daughter relationship

Previous parts > [Series Masterlist]

🔈Reader’s view of John is different, he’s come and gone in her life etc so she thinks he’s not that great. So don’t send me hate

Every fibre of your being is on edge, hair standing up on your arms, mouth dry and tongue heavy. You’re still laying on the floor, your finger trailing the grain of the wood. It’s cool beneath your touch, the subtle reminder that you are awake.

Your muzzy head trying to piece together everything after a second panic attack. All because your dad asked you if you were okay. Pathetic really, now that you’d calmed down a bit.

The Captain’s sitting with you, your cheek resting on his crossed legs. He hasn’t said anything since your breaths have evened out. No he just sits there, his hand on your back weighing down on your spine. It’s uncomfortable, the tough weave of his thick jeans and the bulky seam no doubt leaving a mark in your skin. You don’t want to move, not right now. Afraid to look at him and lose it all again.

Shards of broken ceramic litter the floor, much like you do. Broken beyond repair, even you don’t think you’ll be able to piece it all together. Telling the captain feels like breaking yourself all over again. Shattering everything in his past too and you don’t know if you can stomach the aftermath of doing so.

It also means facing your mother. You’re a grown adult, but in the presence of her you’re that little girl squeezing into small spaces and waiting for her to give up. Would there ever be a moment of peace? A life without raised voices or having to compromise your own needs for others? You see a spec of that with your dad. Glimpses of happiness, but you know they won’t last long.

Your mother’s voice on the phone a wake up call. A reminder that you don’t belong with the captain, he’s got his own family to look after and you’re just the latest project to make him feel less guilt. Another box to tick, a role to fill. No one sticks around, not in the way you need or want them to.

The thought of family turns your stomach, you don’t long for something you’ve never had anymore. You’re enough, it’s all you’ve known and you won’t let yourself down, not this time. No expectations and worrying about others actions.

You lift your head from his lap and sit up, the captain's hand pawing the hair out of your face. A little heavy handed, but it’s no slap in the face. His thick brow’s furrow, weathered lines of age and his forever scrutinising gaze settling in his forehead.

“Come on,” he says, fingers grasping your arm as he helps you off the floor. “Mind your step.” His palms on your hips as he lifts you over the sharp broken pieces and onto the bed.

The Captain’s side of the bed is neat, sheets tucked under the mattress with military precision that it barely creases as you sit down. His side table’s a little cluttered, crooked reading glasses on top of a crossword puzzle book and pen wedged between the pages. A sticker with his name printed on the front cover, as if anyone would take it.

He crouches down, sweeping the shards up and declining your offer to do it, since you made the mess. It’s second nature to him, you remember him cleaning broken glass off the floor as a child and how he carried you back to bed each time, telling you he dropped a cup. Silly daddy, you'd say and now you’re older you understand why his smile would falter. Why he’d rush to pull the blankets back over you and tell you to go back to sleep.

“Did mum ever hit you?” You say it without thinking, but it’s something you’ve wondered for years.

He freezes mid sweep, gaze darting up at you. “No. She hit you?” His head snapping to you so quickly, you winced.

“No,” you say, quick without missing a beat and on instinct. “You and mum always used to argue, was hard not to hear.” Seven year old you in your bedroom, head shoved under your pillow as you tried to drown out their yelling.

Their constant arguments always seemed to grow louder when you went to bed. Some nights you were herded into your room early, your mum telling you to get under the covers before she turned off the light. You hated the dark.

“You remember that?” He asks, scratching his moustache and waiting for your nod. “I mean she threw a glass at me every now and then, luckily ya’ mum’s a shit shot.” He laughs it off, but it doesn’t quite rubble from his chest like when you see him joking around with the guys.

The tiny scars curving his fingers look a lot more familiar now that he’d confirmed you were right. That you hadn’t made it up.

“Me and ya’ mum weren’t exactly good for each other. Both stubborn and just had different things that we wanted. We’re better apart,” he said, placing the brush in the dustpan to keep the ceramic pieces from falling out.

“And you never hit mum?” Adding the never to soften the blow, to try and convince him that you didn’t quite believe he would too.

“No,” he shook his head, the tic in his jaw tensing. “And I’ll never hit you either. Under any circumstances, understand?”

You nod, not sure if you’re able to trust your previous judgement when it came to most males or adults in your life. Mum always said you were easy to manipulate, that your dad only looked out for himself. He just won’t hit, so what exactly would he do if you were to earn his anger?

The captain’s eyes scan you head to toe, lingering on the twitch of your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

“You know if there’s something me or the guys said or did that triggered…” He’s so gentle, soft spoken as if he were going set you off if he spoke any louder. Those eyes searching yours, deep rims carved beneath them as if he hadn’t slept a wink since you’d arrived.

“No,” you snap, rising from the bed and retreating from his outstretched arm. “You said we didn’t have to talk about it now.”

His hand grasps your elbow, “hey, it nothing to be embarrassed…”

Except you were, you hated seeing the pity in his eyes. The way he treads careful and picks his words, you could see him going over what to say in his mind, because you have the same tells as him. Maybe you are your father’s daughter.

Push, that’s what you do. You push him away, retreat from any warmth knowing that you can’t stay. Hurt him before he hurts you.

“Because you’re suffocating me! God sake I can’t take the constant fussing. Just leave me alone.” You spat, yanking your elbow out of his hold. Why couldn’t everyone just leave you alone?

He froze, arms back by his side as he rocked on his heels as if he’s wanting to come closer but thinking better not. You hate yourself for it, but you can’t understand his need to be around so much. Just like your mother, pushing him away when he’s trying to help.

If he hates you, it’ll be easier to leave. If you’re difficult to love, then he’ll let you go.

“I’m sorry kiddo, I know I’ve been a bit full on.”

You scoff and in that moment you can't commit to the act of hurting your dad. Those damn eyes softening as they remain on you, "I'm sorry," you mumbled, toeing the edge of the curled rug. "He called me, on a different number and it just caught me off guard."

Yep, lyings so much easier than telling the truth. The way it fell so well crafted from your lips, just like your mother taught you.

A soft knock tapped against John’s office door, so light and quiet he almost didn’t hear it against the typing of his computer keyboard. He paused waiting for another tap.

“You can enter.”

The door creaked open, but he's too focused on the computer screen and the redacted words of whatever file had landed in his inbox. He assumed some new recruit had messed up his office with the sorting office. It wouldn’t be the first time a gangly teen accidentally entered and stuttered their way out with an apology.

He pushed his glasses back up his nose, clicking the mouse. “What do you need?” He mumbled, pen scratching the notepad as he made some notes and jotted down a number.

“Uh, dad.” His finger slipped the keyboard, not expecting to see you hesitating in the door way. He’s still getting used to you visiting his office, the same worn brown cord jacket hung from your shoulders. Still getting used to you calling him dad, which was rare these days as you preferred to call him the captain.

He makes a mental note to get you a decent winter coat and accessories.

John shut the window on his computer screen and leant back in his chair. “Everything alright, Kiddo?” That seemed to be a recurring question when it came to you.

No other way to figure out if you needed anything as you never asked much of him. You haven’t discovered that you can sign yourself out of the base yet, not even tried. That’s the first thing he thought you’d do.

John expecting to wake up and get a notification about you leaving, but you’ve stuck around. Given him a chance and he’ll do anything to make it right. Even if it does take time.

And that’s why he hadn’t told you that yet, he’ll wait until you’re fully healed. Then he’ll say you can sign yourself out, all he has to do then is trust that you’ll come back. He won’t force you though.

“I got the job.”

John’s stomach drops, well looks like you’ll be signing yourself out for the job. A little sooner than he hoped. “Ah, well done, kiddo.” He pushes out of the chair, raising his arms and wrapping them around you.

You’re tense, spine straight and hands glued to your side, but they slowly inch around his torso. Head leaning into his chest and shoulders loosening as you fall into his hold. John doesn’t remember the last time he’s praised you. Knows that you haven’t worked in over a year, abusers like to isolate their partners and John knows how much of a big deal this is. You doing something for yourself.

He pulls back, rough palms framing your face. “Proud of ya’ kid,” he said, lips pressing against your forehead. And your eyes flutter shut, body swaying as he steps back and releases you.

It’s been a couple days since your panic attack, he’s kept his distance and let you approach him. Allowed you space, privacy to sort through your head. You no doubt prepared yourself for his hug and touch, obviously not something you’re used to. It was like living with a cat, one pet and then he’s getting scratched. A step forward and three back.

“Thanks dad.” Your voice low, gaze scanning the floor. It’s not often that you hold his gaze, never did as a child either, but the more time he spends with you, he knows it’s a shield. Less attention on you, downplaying the good as if you’re preparing for something, someone to knock you down again.

John wonders if that’s your mother’s doing or the ex-boyfriend’s. Not that you’d confide in him, not yet. He knows he’ll have to gain your trust before that happens.

“How’s about we go to the pub for a few drinks, celebrate?” he says, frowning as your chest shudders and your body tenses at the mention of drinking. “The guys can come too if you want. No alcohol for us though as early start in the morning.”

He leans over his desk, turning the computer off and giving you space to think, to breathe. Without his influence and his gaze looming over you. Baby steps, he supposes until you get used to having the freedom to think for you and no one else in mind. Sure you’ve got a fiery temper, but that’s only when John’s fussing or you’re speaking of your mother.

“Sure.”

John bites his lip trying to hide his smile as his gaze flits to the rearview mirror. You’re squished between Kyle and Johnny in the back of the truck, elbows tucked in and knees raised. Talking to Kyle as he teases you about your driver license photo. He tosses it to Johnny and you punch his leg, snatching the license back. But you’re smiling, something John hasn’t seen in a long time.

The local pubs a little grimy and dingy, the type he’d wipe his boots on the way out instead of the way in. John and the guys have been there plenty, their usual booth in the corner with the flickering light free. The perfect spot to unwind and not get the traffic of people from the busier main area. That and the derelict dart board right beside it, little holes in the wall around it.

Simon gets the first round, giving you a separate congratulations as he hands you a vanilla float. You seem to fit in with Kyle and Johnny, playing darts and nudging whoever’s turn it is to throw.

John can’t help but notice the way you lean towards Johnny though, hand a little too comfortable on his arm as you smile up at him. The way he offers you a swig of his non-alcoholic beer and wipes the drip on your chin. John forgets that his sergeant’s around your age, four or five years older. You deserve someone softer, a person that hasn’t seen the things that he has.

He trusts Johnny, but he’s still going to pull him later and warn him of the boundaries.

You’re off to the toilets and John makes a beeline for the space you left next to Johnny. He plucks the dart out of the sergeant’s grasp and points the sharp tip at him. “Only gonna tell ya’ once, off limits lad,” he says leaning in for just him to hear, Kyle none the wiser as he collects his darts wedged into the board and wall.

“Just being friendly,” Johnny says, nudging his head in your direction. “He looks a lot more though.” He smirks as the captains gaze follows his and he spots you talking to a man by the bar.

Do you give out smiles to every man, but your dad? The twitch of your lips always falter in his presence as if it’s a painful act and you’re trying to please him.

Nah, this blokes too close for John’s liking. He walks over to the bar and steps between the two of you, “what do ya’ want kid?” He asks you, sliding the drink that man had offered you into his hands.

Kid, make it seem like you’re much younger than you look. He keeps his eyes on the shelves of whisky behind the bar, watching the man’s reflection in the mirror.

The man stutters out an apology, hands raised as he tells John he meant no harm.

Your fingers drum against the tacky bar, head tilting as you try to catch John’s gaze. “He was just offering me a drink.” You shrug, taking the soft drink from the bar maid and stirring the ice with the straw.

“You ain’t havin’ it,” John says, lifting the drink to his nose, swishing the liquid in the glass. “Could have put something in it.” He can smell the alcohol a mile away, more vodka than lemonade. Bastard. His head jerks to the side and he scans the bar, but a gentle tug of his sleeve steals his attention.

There’s something childlike in the action, he can see the pinch of fabric you pulled still sticking out on his sleeve. Little you always used to tug on the hem of his shirt or his belt loops. As if you were afraid to bother him for something silly.

“That and he’s a good ten years older than you.” The thought of someone around his age approaching you, he didn't want to think of it. Wasn't worth wasted breath or the spike of anger heating his skin.

“Isn’t that the typical thing with girls and daddy issues?” You say, casual as ever as you glance up at him. You bump your shoulder into his arm and he stumbles. “Relax, old man. Just teasing, it’s the mommy issues you gotta worry about.”

Some part of John knows that you’re being honest, but it’s like getting blood from a stone when it comes to you talking about your mother.

You're good at telling lies, John notices the little things. He should know, he lies to get the job done no matter what. How your phone was on the coffee table in the living room and your mothers recent call logged into his answered list. So whatever truth you're holding on to, he knows its your mother and not the ex.

God did he need a strong glass of whisky and a cigar when they got back to the res' house. He wished he'd kept the one in his pocket, the lighter no use on its own, might as well burn a hole through his jeans.

Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it :) John's starting to question everything now... There might be some errors/mistakes as I'm dyslexic, I do check my work a couple times, but I do miss bits and pieces. Sorry for the long wait I had a minor head injury and just getting back to editing - Leya

Taglist: @unclearblur @enfppuff @elita1 @tired-writer04 @kaoyamamegami @gallantys @leon-thot-kennedy @trulovekay @harley101399 @misshoneypaper @rpgsandstuff @tomatto1234 @lolyouresilly @madsothree @astrothedoll @grandfartvoid @delaynew @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @little-mini-me-world @exitingmusic @majocookie @elegancefr @jesskidding3 @thepowers-kat-be @frangiipanii @ye-olde-trash-panda

[meganegatari]

heh.. okay, so you asked for different.. rubs hands together villaniously as i materialize from the bottomless shadows..

sub!vampire!ellie biting/bloodsucking denial.. reminding her how much of a good girl she needs to be even when your wrist is practically just brushing past her lips to cradle her face.. or when the weakest bead of blood is pricked from your finger.. flaunting it.. teasing.. goddess bless throw in whatever else you see fit freakmaster

TEMPTATION WAITS

before you read! ▪︎ my masterlist ☆: co-president...this is absolutely divine...shoulda seen the way i dropped everything for this im literally #TWEAKING. new fav thing i've ever written methinks. title song. (vibes aren't there but the title was too good.) ps: if you spot any typos i wrote this with one hand. KIDDING...or am i? divider creds—cafekitsune. ◇: not outright smut, but still suggestive!! and nsfw is described. fluffy end bc i think she earned it, lore sprinkled in because why nawt it's interesting, finger sucking (e! receiving), this is maybe a lil ooc idrc, she's described as looking quite ill in her vampiric form + begs like her century long life depends on it fr, (but also has a bit of an attitude, it issss ellie after all), mean!r, talk of blood/previous bite wounds. ++ 3.3k wc. doesn't need to be that long but atp? take it or leave it LOLL. filing under "oneshots" bc it's way more than usual reqs hehe.

“Please, baby. Just one taste. I'll do anything.” Desperate, shaky pleas spilled from Ellie, her voice noticeably tired from the effort. She's been at this for what felt like forever now, and you were getting tired of ignoring her. Or rather, a little bored.

She was kneeling on the wooden floor by your bed, fisting the creased sheets, trying to capture your attention. The shimmering moonlight was dancing on her features as if it was a sparkle of fireflies, making her oddly colored eyes appear to glow, and highlighting her sickly appearance.

In her vampiric form, her skin was tinted a ghostly—even chalky—white, barely a smidgen of blush dancing on the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes shifted from their original grassy green to a peculiar duochrome blend of emerald and ruby. She really looked unwell, but you knew it was merely a product of circumstance, her gloomy fate.

Ellie donned somber dark circles around her eyes, her lips withered, pale, and thin as a piece of tissue paper. Just behind them though, rested two deadly weapons of her very own—sizeable, razor-sharp, gleaming ivory canines reflecting the scarce lighting as if they were made of mirrored glass.

For the first time tonight, you met her gaze, assuming an unbreakable poker face. Her keen sight could pick out the most subtle of twitches, so you learned to defeat that. The moment you met her line of sight she perked up, her eyes widening in glee, you had finally acknowledged her existence after so long.

Scooting forward you placed yourself right in front of her still kneeling form, sitting so she was in between your legs, but she wasn't allowed to touch you until you said so. What torture.

She began again, “Can I do something to make you change your mind? I'll do anything. Anything in the world. I'll make you feel re-really good, and then I won't ask again…ever even, if that's what you want. Just please let me…I'm so thirsty.” She was rambling a million miles a minute, slurring her words and cutting herself off with hiccups, stuttering like was having a nervous breakdown.

Her chest heaving up and down was visible to you despite the dim surroundings, and you could just make out her facial expression—a pained grimace, as if she was experiencing all of humanity's greatest suffering. When you didn't reply but stayed observing her blankly, she sighed and hung her head in shame, you almost felt bad. Almost.

You extend a hand, twirling a strand of her hair—previously silky and vibrant, now as lifeless and dull as charred hay—and you feel her relax under your touch. You continue raking your fingers through her locks, scratching her scalp with your nails, and you hear her exhale forcefully. She's likely overwhelmed by your scent—it's invigorating, fresh, and full of life.

“Have you been good?” You pipe up with a voice colder than ice, softly caressing the flesh of her tense cheek, and letting your fingertips travel to the underside of her chin. You gently tilt her head up, noticing the way her eyelids flutter to a close. She's soaking up the heat radiating off of you, making sure to feel the sensations of your skin brush against hers as much as she can, commit them to memory for when she's apart from you.

Her lips part, allowing for hushed, woeful whimpers to pour out, and she instinctively bites her bottom lip to quiet herself. Only she forgets about the powerful daggers in her mouth, and almost pierces right through her own skin.

Taking notice, you tut at her, warning clicks of your tongue bouncing off the room’s walls, contrasting the dead of night’s eerie silence. Tsk, tsk, tsk. You push the pad of your thumb down on the plush of her lip, angling her jaw side to side, examining those killer gnashers she's got.

“You could hurt yourself with these y'know, be careful.” Her eyelids flicker open, she's staring up at you with the biggest doe eyes she could muster, somehow all while maintaining such a strong glare you feel as if she's trying to challenge you.

“I'll decide if you can have some, as long as you're good, and you let me have some fun first. Alright?” You explain in a neutral tone, earning a cute “mhm” of confirmation from the undead being before you. “Good girl.”

You slowly slip your thumb into her mouth, avoiding her fangs at all costs, and you let her wrap her slippery tongue around your digit, watching how her cheeks hollow and her eyes roll ever so slightly while she sucks, moaning as she takes in your taste—nothing more than just skin.

You chuckle at her desperation, revel in the power dynamic you have created. “Mmm, you taste so good, so sweet.” She mumbles, swirling her tongue around your thumb, coating the entirety of it in her spit. You allow it for now, but soon enough, to no surprise, she slyly tries to shift to the side in preparation to slice you and get her treat.

You sharply retract your hands from her, removing your finger from her mouth with a pop, disappointed by her greed, her audacity. She turns to the side and pouts, huffing and rolling her eyes with more attitude than a moody teen. “What did I say?” You calmly hiss at her. She whispers, almost inaudibly, “Sorry…taste so good, can't help m’self.” Her voice wavered, and the moonlight illuminated the faintest tinge of red across her features, it was nearly invisible.

But you could tell exactly what was up. She shifts uncomfortably in her spot, grunting with laughable, pitiful attempts to rub her thighs together, fingers toying with the cloth of her pants, putting her frustration on full display. You looked at her struggle, unable to contain your grin.

It was a different kind of high, seeing such a feared and fabled beast kneel before you in such a pathetic manner, but it turned you on like nothing else. It was also evident she enjoyed it as well, no matter how much she didn't want you to be aware of the fact. The extent to which she worships you and handles your body, the way she was willing to beg and let you order her around showed just how much you meant to her—it was beautiful in its own way, how devoted she was to you. You were her person.

The fact she couldn't stifle her desire anymore after all this time suggested a shift in the atmosphere of your wicked games, the tension in the air was getting impossibly thicker, and you were loving every second of it.

Ellie, you've got a short memory.” You tease, then gesture to the gauze wrapped around your forearm, protecting two puncture wounds left by none other than her just the previous night. She looks at it and cocks an eyebrow, grouching, “Yeah, I see that, what about it?” The husky edge to her voice had returned, the defiant attitude you loved to crack was back in full force.

“Hundreds of years old, you even have memories of wars, and you can't remember what happened, like, 24 hours ago? Wow…” Your voice is so patronizing, it's unpleasant and abrasive on the ears, even your own. She shrugs her shoulders, still kneeling on the cold, hard ground at your mercy. “Well let's have a refresher then, shall we?” Tearing the tan-colored bandage apart with a single rip, you reveal the puncture marks—they were still wet and irritated, the wounds reopening immediately at the slightest movement.

Ellie whines like an animal, a crude “ahh”, and she starts pleading harder than ever. “Please, baby, my pretty, my angel, please, please, pleasepleaseplease, just lemme have a drop, just one. That's all, I swear.” Her gaze darkens exponentially, if you didn't know her it would instill fear in your heart, but luckily you were well aware of all her tricks. She snarls, “Fuck you. I'm literally on my fucking knees right now. Why are you doing this?” Her voice breaks angrily, wobbling with great lust and need—the need to have you, the need to drink you and fondle you and taste you in all senses of the word, and at this point she didn't seem to care about preserving a morsel of her dignity, she was simply so drunk on you, you couldn't believe.

You reiterate the previously established explanation, “We have an agreement that says you're allowed to take my blood once a month, so you can have some more each time. Rather than taking a little bit but more often, you requested this yourself. And you already drank lots yesterday. Does that not ring a bell?”

She groans, a gravelly, guttural sound that had you coming back to your senses and realizing, this was technically, a monster who you loved so dearly.

It led you to wonder—to her kind, what was so special about the liquid coursing through your veins?

When you split your lip open as a kid, clumsily tumbling face-first onto the asphalt, or bit your tongue while eating something stubborn, the strange, metallic taste was purely disgusting. It had a certain heaviness to it, both physically with the way it sat in your mouth, but also mentally. Like a subconscious awareness you were not meant to consume it like she does, but to spit it out the millisecond it made contact with your taste buds. There were times where the thought made you queasy, the measly knowledge of just how much of this fluid was inside you, keeping you alive.

But to her, it was a completely different story. She lapped it up with such fervor, such thirst you've never seen before. A sloppy frenzy like there wasn't a single thing more delightfully flavorful.

Her teeth penetrating all the way through your epidermis, dermis, and hypodermis, and straight through the vein wall was a feeling you're likely never going to get used to. It stung, it really did, and you were quick to get all woozy from the blood volume loss, but Ellie knew your limits—even though hers were not even close. Her thirst was insatiable.

The intimacy of the act was a whole separate topic to think about too. It was such an erotic experience, and when probed about it she argues it's better than sex, somehow. When she drinks from you, Ellie is really messy with it, you noticed. Blood dribbles down her chin and stains her lips as if it's a designer lip oil, the distinct deep maroon color sometimes appearing clownish and too intense against her fair complexion.

She was really handsy as well, and you weren't sure if it was purposeful, but you didn't care to ask because you didn't really mind in the first place. It felt nice. Her muscular hands tend to trace your waist as she's suckling, hovering by your ass, and traveling north to knead the supple tissue of your breasts.

And how could you forget about the sheer proximity of it all, even when having sex normally, it didn't feel nearly as intimate or vulnerable as this. Her body would be tightly curled around yours, she couldn't bear to have one meager square inch of her not touching you.

When she drank from your neck, it was bordering on heavenly, you had to be honest with yourself. There was something about the combination of the light headed, dizzying feeling it brought you, her closeness, the licking sensations, and the hungry sounds she produced that all together mixed to form nothing short of a mind blowing, intoxicating concoction.

When you both were feeling it, she'd be able to draw breathy moans to fall from your lips, and would giggle into your skin before sucking harder, leaving bruised marks surrounding the punctures. You read in some folklore that vampires carried a sort of aphrodisiac in their fangs, or was it their saliva? Again, you didn't really know all the details, but the sessions made you both yearn for each other in a way that felt taboo to discuss—midnight feedings often turning into animalistic fucking, sometimes even simultaneously.

Like having Ellie latched onto the side of your neck while she grinds her dripping pussy onto yours, her pleasureful mewls filling your ears, or having her hold your wrist to her mouth while her other hand is pleasuring you into oblivion, prodding against your spongy walls, making your head spin.

The time you spent lost in thought, she had broken the rule of not touching you unless you said so, but all she had done was rest her head on your knee, zoning out, sulking like an injured puppy. Unfortunately for her, you weren't done torturing her just yet. You didn't move her off of you, she was just laying there, grumbling curses under her breath, saying how mean you were, how much she despised you and everything you stood for, although both of you knew the truth—she had said herself, “I've never tasted blood like yours,” and you felt intrinsically bound to her on a subconscious level, these were mere amusements you indulged in, that ended up beneficial for both.

She got her delicious elixir of life, at the cost of you having your way with her for a bit. You hear her sniffle, the little defenseless sound of defeat was able to break your act.

You resume stroking her hair, and she wraps trembling arms around your thigh. “Hmm?” You coo, putting on a sweet facade. “Don't talk to me like that, c'mon man.” She wails, the attempts to regain control over her voice proving unsuccessful.

You took your nails to the newly formed raspberry scabs on top of your bite wounds and picked them off, and she lunges to grab your arm with inhuman reflexes, but once again you emerge on top, having spent so much time memorizing every last one of her behavioral patterns, so much so you knew exactly how she was going to attempt catching you and moved out the way without thinking about it.

“Too slow, you've gotten predictable.” You ridicule her, embellishing your voice with the most fake, sickly sweet tone you could just to irritate her as much as you possibly could. Ellie lays her head on your thigh, sighing. It's like she's given everything up. Her own patience was running out, potentially entering unpredictable territory now.

You squeeze the sides of the hole in your skin to coax a bubble of bright red blood to ooze out, marveling, “It's such a nice color, I see why you like it so much.” You talk to her coolly, ignoring her tearful, yet terrifyingly rage-filled glares, her massive fangs bared as if you were a prey animal she caught herself and was preparing to rip apart.

“Want a taste, Ellie? Have you earned it?” You think out loud, comically tapping your chin to exaggerate the brainstorming act. “Whatever, it's not like I have anything left to say to you.” She sounded heartbroken, you've never seen someone have such sorrow, the sheer misery behind her eyes actually caught you off guard.

"Okay I think you have earned it, just need you to say one more thing.” She nods, a little too quickly, rushing to catch any tears that were planning an escape route down the sides of her pretty face. You cradle her cheek, brushing your thumb against her skin, “Aw, baby, don't cry.” This time however, your tone is sincere.

She doesn't wait for your request, and starts all over again, this is getting old. “I promise everything. I'll make you feel so good, I'll give you whatever you want, please …you're too sweet.” She huffs, “Well, except when you're not.”

She continues mumbling, burying her face in the meat of your thigh, occasionally stopping to lovingly peck where she was laying, quiet smooching sounds. That really melted your heart, you were ready to give her what she needs after so much cruelty. This went on much longer than you had planned, but you were having fun with it. So you decided to abandon whatever you would ask of her. But could anyone blame you?

She slowly reaches for your wounded arm, gauging your reactions, like in the situation you were planning to do something to prevent her, but you come up with a better idea. “I'll do you one even better, Els.” The grin that envelops her face could light up a thousand suns, and melt the coldest of souls. Make vampire hunters quit their careers even, that's how adorable she could be, on the occasion.

You lean back to take your shirt off in one swift motion, and lay back on the edge of the bed, tilting your neck to give her access to the sweet pulsating spot, finding the droplet of drool that falls from her agape mouth utterly hilarious. “Go ahead, I've had my fun.” She hesitates. “But our agreement, I don't wanna hurt you.” “Ellie it's fine, unless you don't want t-” “No I do I do, oh thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so muchhhh.”

Her gratitude is silly, she's straddling you and kissing all over your neck, face, and collarbones with such care, and you inhale sharply once you feel the familiar sensation of her teeth piercing your sensitive skin.

She has one hand on the nape of your neck, holding you close to her so you couldn't move away, and the other one finds your fingers to intertwine with hers, loud gulping noises filling the room as she messily laps up all that flows from you.

Her bony hips are sat atop your pelvis, and soon enough you feel her start absentmindedly rocking back and forth on you, your breath hitching. You hold her waist to ground yourself, and aid her. She's whispering, mostly to herself, “Fuck that's so fucking good, needed this so bad, need you, fuck- shit. Ah, yes.”

The vertiginous feeling swirls in your head and you feel yourself fading, your grip on her sides loosening, but you don't feel one single ounce of panic, because you know she's got you. No matter what, until the end of time. Or at the very least, until the final bells tolled and you were lowered to your eternal resting place six feet underground.

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[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Hello again wonderful person of the Internet!

Thank you for answering my previous question! But I have came to you for another one.

So I’ve seen a little bit of dialogue from Ford, but how does he speak? Like what is his speaking mannerisms? Is it all gibberish? Does he stutter? Does he repeat words?

Keep on making your art and being awesome! :)

~ Question asked from the Tiniest Cyclops ~

Hello, hello again, tiny cyclops in my inbox!

As I mentioned in this post where I go a bit more in depth on Ford's brain injury, Ford suffers from aphasia! Which is basically the loss of one's ability to express language and communicate, while not losing the ability to understand it. But I'm sure you already knew this; and if not, the more you know!

How does he speak? It really depends when you were to go up and talk to him in the timeline. His speech mannerisms the few following years right after his head trauma is very different from how he speaks now in canon! He's had 30 years to recover, after all.

Ford's speech right after his injury was practically non-exitstent. He was smacked in the face with all of the textbook definition symptoms of aphasia, ramped up to 100.

Speaking in short or incomplete sentences.

Speaking in sentences that don't make sense.

Substituting one word for another or one sound for another.

Speak unrecognizable words.

Have difficulty finding words.

Conversations with him back then were not "gibberish" per se, but more so just... slow. And frustrating for everyone involved, although no one could ever be more frustrated than Ford himself. I mean, can you imagine? He could barely say anything without monumental effort, and whatever meager words he managed to squeeze out of his throat were lackluster, to say the least. Every part of his speech were hindered: grammar, pronunciation, heck, even the tone, volume and rythm of his speech didn't always come out correctly.

Due to how recent his brain injury was, there was also the added physical impairments to his speech. The muscles involved in producing speech were weakened, affecting Ford's control and clarity of his words (this is also called: dysarthria).

From an outsider's perspective, listening to him would have felt a little like listening to an extremely corrupted audio file, or a faulty record player. He would often take long pauses in the middle of his words; his words sometimes blended into one another; and his sentences were short, and simple. I think this quote from a website I found about aphasia explains it best.

"Speech may be 'telegraphic' omitting small words such as 'the'. So, 'tomorrow I'm going to the pub with my wife for our anniversary', may be expressed as 'tomorrow...pub... wife... anniversary'. This requires the listener to accurately piece the message together."

So, yeah! As you can imagine, speaking for him was extremely hard. Often times, the townfolk he tried to speak to didn't have the patience to stick around while he finished a sentence, and gradually even Ford lost patience with himself, so he just. Gave up. Which was why he used to be much quieter in the beginning, lurking around town wordlessly, not even really bothering even when someone tried to initiate conversation with him. For a genius who once prided himself so much of his eloquence, losing that ability was a huge blow for him.

How fast one recovers from aphasia really depends on the severity of the injury. It can either take up to a few hours, days, maybe even weeks to fully reover with no long term repercussions, or the symptoms can last months, even years to shake off, and occasionally it's a lifelong condition. Ford, due to the severity of his injury, drew the short end of the stick, and was stuck with the lingering aftereffects of aphasia pretty much forever.

BUT, he evenutally managed to find the will to speak again! At some point during his 30 years of recovery, he decided that he'll figure this shit out himself, goddamnit, he was a scientist. He outsmarted a demon! He didn't have time to be depressed, he needed to relearn how to SPEAK!! (fuck yeah, determination, baby).

And learn he did. Very painfully, very gradually, Ford became basically his own speech therapist for a few decades and relearned everything his body and brain forgot. And although the results aren't perfect- he still stutters, he still gets stuck on words and he still stumbles over them- considering the fact that he had no professional treatment from a clinic or doctor available, it was good enough.

Now he won't shut up! (lovingly)

[sirenscriptures]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ angel dust — s. ryomen ⋆｡˚

synopsis: he couldn’t believe the day you’d fallen down into his home. it was such a dark place, filled with such voids that most would consider horrifying. but you…you seemed to brighten up those areas just with your presence alone … 3k

before you read: fem-bodied reader, fallen angel ! reader, kind of counts as monsterfucking??, corruption, breeding, size difference, true form sukuna, soft to rough-ish sex, mainly soft sukuna, some asphyxiation, oral sex, cock worship.

author comments: if you’ve seen this before, don’t fret. this is a reupload from last year that came from my previous blog <3 also, i would greatly appreciate any feedback on this idea. it was very well received on ao3 and i’d love to know what you think of this idea!!

there was a biting cold air spilling throughout the dark, enormous malevolent shrine that evening. it was odd, since the deep marrows and walls of the domain usually seethed with a heat that seemed closest to what hell would feel like.

quiet as usual, his looming figure sat high within the mouth of the gaping shadows that swallowed the entire space. mountains of bones sat him as his throne; rotting and decaying ones piled at the root, whilst the more robust collection of ivory spines and jaws crowned the top.

even if his gaze read otherwise, he knew something strange was circulating. the domain no longer felt as though it could hold him, yet he didn’t know why. where it usually felt so hollow and barren, it now felt heavy, as if there were something weighing directly on its surface.

sukuna could feel the tension slithering up his arms. his usually harrowing eyes were now darting around, frantically checking each and every wall, crevice and shadow like a madman.

however, standing up was worse. immediately as his feet met the surface, a painful spasm rippled through his head, his hand smacking against his forehead in response. following the sudden pain, a high pitched ring bulleted through his ears.

he let out a yowl in reaction, his entire core tensing in near unbearable pain.his body heat felt like it was burning him alive, and the entirety of his muscles felt as though they would cave in on him at any given moment. it was as if his whole body were crumbling away, alike to the bones at the very bottom of his throne.

what in the hell is wrong with me…?

with no time for another thought or exclamation, a sudden, nearly blinding light glistered over his entire vision. it was like a lightning strike when it cracked down upon a tree. but upon the impact, the light expanded outward, casting a permanent coat of shining white over what used to be orifices of shadows.

the light only lasted a few moments before slipping away, the shadows eating at the remaining whiteness casted in the malevolent shrine. but for sukuna, it felt like ages before the piercing brightness faded away.

hiding away his face in the fabric of his robe sleeves, the pain in his body from before had completely vanished. he felt now that he was in one piece, and that everything was mostly back to normal again.

that was, until he looked in front of himself.

in front of him was what looked to be a pile of white sheets strewn about messily into a wrinkled pile.

with him still trying to adjust his eyes from before, it was still a bit of a blur. the flash from before had strongly impacted his vision for a good few moments before he could truly see properly again.

but when his vision did clear, he was certain he’d been hallucinating. his eyes widened as he realized.

in front of him lay an angel…one with battered, gently stained wings. they looked to be twisted, as if they’d been purposely bent and misshapen by cruel hands.

the little clothes that they wore were torn, stained with some sort of black, ash-like debris, as if they’d been caught in some sort of smoke or fire.

now fully adjusted to the sight, he saw the faint, aura-shaped glow that was cast around their body. the dim light shifted in and out of different hues; appearing like the breathing leaves of a tree at one moment, and like ocean waves the next, transcending on and on into different textures and colors in only a matter of minutes.

even for him, the very king of curses, this was a truly mesmerizing sight. in all his time, he couldn’t ever recall encountering a fallen one.

but that didn’t stop him from wondering just how in the world a creature like you had slipped into his domain.

sukuna’s barrier was stronger than any other domains in existence. only he had the power to call upon it when he wished to trap his victims inside of it. no one could get in or out without his calling to it, and that was always how it worked.

truly, it made no sense how you’d landed here. it shouldn’t have been anywhere near possible, but he’d have to face the facts that it was now.

breathing out deeply, whatever soft expression he previously had, he quickly wiped off. whilst admittedly fascinated, sukuna wanted no more unexpected visitors lurking here. it wasn’t worth any risk, even if he could deal with any type of intruder.

walking towards your body, he stared down at you for a moment, pondering. the idea of seeing a real angel so up close, enough to where he could touch it and see all of its features, felt somewhat dangerous to him.

standing so close created ripples of tension in the air, and he could feel it. it was nearly overbearing, to a point where he almost stepped back. but he stood his ground, not wanting to lose this moment.

gently, one of his hands grasped around your shoulder, rolling you onto your back. seeing your face now, it was hard for his eyes not to narrow.

sukuna had never seen something so beautiful. being asleep and trapped in bottomless darkness for years upon years with nothing but gruesome history and deeds, made him realize just how much he failed to see from the world around him.

he knew very well that there was a world outside of his domain where time was constantly working. where lives ended and began within every passing hour. where every single person, organism, ecosystem and cell worked to keep the cycle of living and evolving forever flowing onward, until there would be nothing left but dust floating about an empty space.

did he care for it much? of course not

out there, he was feared. the very syllables of his name invoked terror into any normal human that lived today. and that didn’t bother him in the slightest. it was a title that contributed to who he truly was: the king of curses.

but this moment that lay in front of him felt much different than just the outside world. just by looking at you, it was clear you falling down here carried much more volume than if a regular human were to fall into his domain.

it was when he began to pull you into his arms that your eyes flicked open. being cradled within four arms was a feeling he only half expected you to react to, but it was still surprising for both of you.

at first, sukuna expected you to flinch away from him. maybe even throw yourself away from his grasp. after all, it only seemed appropriate to him that an angel would fear the initial sight of a curse of his stature.

it was the stare you gave him that threw him off the most. your eyes were brilliant; the color in resemblance to the hazy aura that surrounded your body after the fall. but looking deeper, it seemed like you were...admiring him?

the softness in your gaze couldn’t be described in any other way. it was painted with innocence and light, something that was so foreign to sukuna.

despite the unfamiliar soft feeling blooming within his chest, his expression remained strong, revealing little emotion to you at first. with his eyes fully fixated on you, he smirked.

“i take it you’ve lost your way?” he asked in his low, sonorous voice. red eyes blinked down at you, the contact unbreaking.

when he was met with silence, it wasn’t a shock. angels weren’t so common with the earth language as many others thought they were.

instead, you blinked back at him, that same look in your eye as he remained holding you in his arms. even though he understood that you weren’t vocal, he could begin to feel that same tension lingering in the air once more.

“you really did a number on me when you fell down here.” he chuckled, assuming the pain from before was caused by the impact.

something within your gaze flickered as your hand reached up towards his face. his first instinct was to flinch away or tense up, yet…he didn’t.

your caress on his face was gentle, so loving, it was enough to make him feel like warmth was rushing through the tips of your fingers. sukuna hadn’t felt such a sensation in an eternity. in all of his long life, he couldn’t remember ever feeling a touch as gentle and as ethereal as this one.

it truly amazed him. he’d been so used to fighting, that he forgot what a real, physical loving touch had felt like against his skin. especially in his true form, he’d never felt so many sensations coursing through him at once.

the tension only stretched once he noticed you hadn’t broken eye contact. usually, others would shy their gaze away in fear. but, with the way you looked at him, it was almost as if you were trying to persuade him to look at you.

the way you smiled at him, and the way your body was so relaxed in his grasp…something was drawing him in so deep, that he completely ignored the fact that your faces were now drawn so close together, his breath warm on your skin.

you could feel sukuna start to tense up against your body. he wasn’t saying it directly, but he hated appearing as though his walls were tumbling down. the mere idea of being vulnerable was nauseating to him. but sure enough, it was gradually spreading through him like a slow-killing virus.

for a brief moment, something switched within him. it was a sudden feeling of his normal self coming back to him.

suddenly, he placed you back on the ground. he initially wanted to turn his body away from you, but you stopped him. your hand clasped gently around one of his wrists, a slight pleading look in your eyes. you stood close to his body, battered wings flecking about torn and tangled feathers.

sukuna turned to look at you, slightly amused. if anyone else had done that to him in his domain, he could have their arm sliced off in a matter of one glance.

“what now?” he asked gently.

he almost made a smart remark following his inquiry, until your hands gently started to roam over his body.

slowly, your gentle touch sent that same euphoric sensation through him, causing his breath to hitch. the tenseness in his muscles seemed to be washed away by the feeling as your touch traveled to his waist.

he could feel your breath growing heavier by each minute that passed. your head leaned into the deep crook of his neck, hands admiringly slipping over the bulges of muscles and scars on his skin.

looking back at you, he huffed, that devilish smirk spreading slightly over his lips once more. his large hands crept over your waist, scraping the loose clothing off of your body, leaving you more vulnerable than him.

before you could react, he’d pulled you into his grasp once more, his lips connecting with yours. his tongue aggressively slithers its way into your mouth, causing you to whine.

when pulling away, a string of saliva trailed between both of your mouths, eventually dripping down your breast.

seeing your bare figure so beautifully displayed in front of him, sukuna can’t help but feel like he needs more. that feeling from before was now a craving that he felt wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d had every part of you.

leaning back to sit, he placed you conveniently onto his lap, undoing his robes. you could feel the warm excitement pulsing through you, and you were certain he could feel the same.

those dark eyes fixated on you so strongly, you felt as though he could see through you. he pulled you close to him again, his hand trailing down in between your legs.

you latched onto him in surprise when the mouth on his palm began to lap and lick at you from below. you let out a trembling whimper, wrapping your arms tight around his neck.

sukuna chuckled darkly. “now i’ve found what you like, haven't i?”

it wasn’t long before you were wet enough for his fingers to slip in between your snug walls. you could feel your legs beginning to shake uncontrollably as the mouth continued to suck and slither its tongue inside you, whilst his two fingers pumped into your wetness.

he was fascinated by the feeling. even just a mere two fingers had some struggles fitting inside you. but the way you swallowed him in so well down there made him throb.

fuck…who would’ve thought i’d get to ruin a sweet angel like this? he thought to himself. just the feeling of the dripping warmth around his fingers could drive him mad.

promptly, sukuna removed the rest of his robes, his full body exposed to you now. looking at you, he watched your eyes widen at the sight of just how big he was.

he smiled amusingly, taking your face into one of his hands gently.

“there’s nothing to be afraid of, dear.” he murmured, pulling you into a deep, long kiss.

your little whimpers sent waves of arousal through him. you were so fascinating in all ways…he just couldn’t get enough of you.

before he could do anything else, you positioned yourself beneath him, kneeling right where his thighs were.

he looked at you, confused. he could see that you appeared nervous. compared to sukuna, you felt so small. he was a giant, and you both knew that. but there was an instinct for you to serve him, even if it was just for a little while.

suddenly, you’d begun to take in one of his members into your mouth slowly, your tongue snaking around the tip.

sukuna let out a rumbling groan, muscles back to tensing and pulsing with excitement. even the feeling of your mouth was amazing…so soft and welcoming to his cock.

his head tilted back, the feeling of you sucking at him sending his mind into a blur. it was unfathomable how good you could make him feel, all with simple gestures.

after a few moments, you’d stopped. sukuna looked down at you, panting slightly.

it was the sight of you kissing his cock that made him realize what you were doing. trails of kisses led all the way to his pre-cum coated tip. your hands gently massaged and caressed his skin, humming with pleasure as you did so.

pulling you up to his lap again, he pulled you extra close, breath now hot against your neck. sukuna couldn’t keep his mouth from yours. his large hands groped at your breasts, the mouths engulfing your skin.

he loved the sound of your moans flowing into his mouth as he prepared his cock at your entrance. you sounded so meek, and at the same time desperate. as if you’d wanted more of him, which is exactly what he wanted from you.

sliding in wasn’t easy for him. not even half had slipped into you, and you were already holding onto dear life, clawing at his shoulders and wincing, tears starting to stream down your cheeks.

he cupped your face in his hands, holding you gently. “shhhh, it’s alright.” he assured.

he placed one of his hands on your chest, the thump of your heartbeat racing wildly. staring into your eyes, he never broke his soft stare, his member still partially stuffed inside you.

“breathe for me.” he murmured, hand remaining on your chest as he breathed deeply with you.

slowly, it eased its way past your walls, the warmth now engulfing him. sukuna leaned his head back, groaning.

“fuuuck…” he hissed, feeling the fluttering of your walls around him.

he looked up at you, seeing how tense you’d become. his hands gently rubbed up and down your back, soothing you to where you would relax once more.

accidentally, his hands traveled to your wings. at the initial touch, you let out a cry, but not out of pain, out of pleasure.

once again, fascination overcame him. while he started to pump himself in and out of you, his fingers gently massaged the silky feathers of your back, watching as your head and eyes rolled back.

his pace grew faster eventually, balls slapping against your flesh, your moans sobbing out of you louder. meanwhile, sukuna’s hands roamed all over you, caressing every part of you that he could.

as he fucked you, the tongue on his stomach swirled in delicate circles over your protruding clit. he could feel every part of you begin to tremble. it felt like you were about to break at the seams.

he growled out huskily as his hand wrapped around your throat. slaps rang out as he fucked you, echoing throughout his domain.

he looked at you with hooded eyes, admiring the glassy-eyed look of exhaustion and arousal that you had.

“cum for me,” he stammered out. “let me hear those pretty moans of yours…”

you could feel the pleasure washing over you, head throwing back as you let out a final cry.

with a few thrusts, he could feel his seed sputtering deep inside you. his last thrusts made sure everything stayed inside of you, filling you up as much as he could. the feeling of your warmth and fluids mixing together nearly sent the both of you into a trance.

but for sukuna, he was more entranced by you and you alone. he had yet to understand how an angel like you had fallen down here, but he figured he didn’t have to understand everything right away.

all he truly cared about now was possibly keeping you down here with him. it didn’t fully make sense at first why he felt such a drawn protection over you, but now he saw just how special you were.

holding you in his arms, he couldn’t help but smile watching you doze off, head resting against his chest as you listened to the soothing sound of his heartbeat.

written by sirenscriptures. do not repost on any other website. do not translate, copy, or use.

[ayakashiz]

Alien Stage R6 Analysis

VERY LONG compilation of my interpretations, impressions and unanswered questions about Round 6 of Alien Stage. I just wanted to write this to put all my thoughts in one place so I can finally rest (in pieces). TW for mentions of suic*de/suic*dal ideation.

The most debated is no doubt the kiss/choking scene and Ivan’s motivation for doing so in the first place. 

I think from the very beginning, even before R3, Ivan was planning to go out with a bang. That’s the immediate impression I got from the comic where he mocks/criticizes Sua for planning to “selfishly” die for Mizi and feel good being the “heroine” rather than having to deal with the trauma of being the one left behind. 

(I'm too lazy to edit the whole translation as of now, but might do so when I have more time.)

Ivan tells her how he’s “relieved that he’s not the only who’s that twisted” = He’s comparing himself to Sua. He thinks they’re both ‘twisted’ for planning to do the same thing, but from Ivan’s perspective, he at least isn’t fooling himself into thinking his motives are altruistic. He tasted the feeling of being ‘abandoned’, and he knows he doesn’t want to experience it twice. 

He also probably thought that his death wouldn’t be as impactful on Till as Sua’s death on Mizi, and therefore his own selfishness is more justified in his mind. This most likely plays a role in how cold and biting his words are towards Sua –he’s jealous of that difference between them.

I hadn’t noticed this detail the first time I watched the video: Not only did Till look absolutely miserable and defeated from the get go, but he completely gave up and stopped singing at some point. If you look at the video, we can hear the audio that was supposed to be sung, but Till is quiet and still, and THIS is the moment Ivan chooses to act.

Although they do not show the votes at that particular moment, stopping mid song would have definitely taken a hit to Till’s score as it’s basically forfeiting –a huge contrast to his previous match where he didn’t even let his opponent utter a single line.

In response, Ivan doesn’t just walk towards him but throws his microphone to the ground, explicitly forfeiting as well in order to then pull a drastic move like it was foreshadowed in his interview.

The kiss itself imo was the less calculated/arguably unplanned part. He could have just choked Till from the start and it would have gotten him the same if not better results (since it was the act of violence against another contestant that ultimately lowered his score and got the counter to stop). 

That kiss was authentic and for himself entirely, both as a last desperate attempt at conveying his feelings and a selfish way of leaving a strong impression on Till that he wouldn’t be able to forget (a hypocritical move going back to how he criticized Sua). In that sense, I don’t think Ivan was seriously trying to take Till down with him –although that’s up to interpretation. As I see it, that would contradict his actions up until that point.

Till was VERY CLEARLY suic*dal (once again, he gave up singing), and after the initial shock of Ivan squeezing his neck, this fiery, rebellious man who is KNOWN to fight tooth and nail, simply closed his eyes and relaxed his body, waiting for Ivan to end him without fighting at all. 

The thing is, no matter how suic*dal one may be, the fighting response when being actually suffocated is automatic and completely involuntary. People mention there not being marks on Till’s neck but I think the most telling sign is him not going red, not squirming, not struggling or holding onto Ivan’s wrists (again, expected involuntary responses), his eyes not watering or having blurry vision while we see Ivan from his POV, not opening his mouth even a little to gasp for air and not coughing or gasping either when he was finally released.

Ivan definitely had him in a strong grip, might have even made him a bit lightheaded, but the reason why Till could look so relaxed in the first place is because he had given up and was waiting for Ivan to go ahead. If his closed eyes and limp posture were due to the choking itself, he would have fallen or stumbled when being let go, but we see that his eyes open as soon as he feels Ivan’s hands slipping away and he looks shocked instead.

So then what was Ivan’s motivation, if not to kill him? Yes, there’s the already discussed plan to get himself disqualified. But Ivan glances at the screen only a few seconds after he starts the choking, confirming that the voting had in fact stopped with Till having the higher score. He then goes for one last ‘goodbye’ kiss before continuing to choke him, holding his grip even as he starts getting shot.

We see a closeup of him, his eyes and hands trembling, looking more frustrated/emotional than in Till’s first POV where he looks rather stoic. It makes me think that the reason he refused to let go was simply because he wanted Till to look at him. 

They strongly imply throughout the whole video that being annoying or mean or violent was the only way Ivan learnt how to make Till focus his full attention on him, but now even as he’s threatening his life, even as he himself is dying, even after that kiss, Till wouldn’t look. 

It took him getting fatally wounded and realizing there was no turning back to reach a state of acceptance. His bittersweet expression here reminds me A LOT of his smile after Till runs back during the meteor scene, although this one seems a lot more tender. He seems to accept the fact that Till will never love him back, but Ivan cannot stop loving him anyways and he at least got to put his feelings out there. 

(The parallels here are driving me insane. The way there is light in his eyes in both instances as he looks at Till even while 'losing him' in a way. The struggle between wanting to posses him yet realizing his free spirit/strong will is part of what he loves about him. That last genuine gaze from a character who spent his whole life putting on a mask. Yes I am very normal about this.)

Until then, Ivan’s more tender/vulnerable side is only shown while Till is unconscious or looking away.

(That soft, loving nuzzle to Till's face has me in SHAMBLES.)

But ironically, it’s only when he releases him and shows him this vulnerability without a mask that Till really looks at him for the first time. I’d go as far as to say that it was this moment, and not the kiss, that finally made Till understand Ivan’s feelings. And in turn Ivan gets that little shot of euphoria as he falls to the ground.

Going back to the survivor’s guilt… I can only imagine it’ll go completely downhill for Till from now on. Not only does he already think Mizi might be dead and is angry at himself that he couldn’t save her (as seen in the shot where he punches his own picture), but now he has most likely realized that Ivan intentionally fumbled their match for his sake –which would lead to the realization that he was the reason why Ivan chose to run back to Anakt Garden after him in the first place, and that choice ultimately lead to his death. 

Even though we see them fighting a lot as children through the videos and comics, it’s also implied that they were always together and they shared some quiet moments –the “Mizi didn’t play with you, I played with you” art, all that art of the main 4 playing together, those bright smiles as they ran away together during the meteor shower scene and Till looking so guilty when he let go of his hand. 

There are a few cute doodles of them for those who are on Patreon, and some more lore in the Anakt Garden kit –so they were at the very least friends in their own way (as best as 2 very traumatized and abused children could), constantly fighting and making up. Which God… it shows that despite appearances Till must have actually had the patience of a saint when they were little lmao.

But what I’m trying to say is that despite what Ivan may have thought, his death will most definitely have an impact on Till and the narrative going forward, and I’m excited to find out how that reflects in the final round (if the resistance doesn’t manage to get back up in time to disrupt it). 

Despite how much I adored (and SUFFERED WITH) this round, I still have MANY questions that were left unanswered, both about Ivan and Till, and the lore in general, and I wonder if there’ll be time to answer them all, as I can imagine the next MV will be focused on Luka’s perspective, the only one we haven’t been presented with.

One of the most pressing questions being: What’s the relationship between Ivan and that alien dog? Did he tame it? It is implied that it was Ivan who somehow led Till and Mizi to it in the first place in that one scene, and if so I wonder what his motivation was? Normally jealousy would be the first thing to come to mind but Ivan wasn’t interested in Till until AFTER he saw him stand up to the beast to protect Mizi, so it couldn’t have been that. 

This is something that was also teased on Patreon and I was looking forward to the explanation on the MV, but it never came, and now Ivan is dead, so the next video will most likely not be too concerned with his backstory any longer. (Which, also, I was really curious about his life in the slums before being captured, auctioned and brought to Anakt, as that would have played a huge role in his twisted personality/dark tendencies –once again teased on Patreon very briefly, but not explained beyond that frame of him looking famished.)

The second is, how is Ivan able to open Till’s collar/muzzle so easily? This is a question I’ve been having since R3, but chalked it up to Ivan being sneaky and figuring out some kind of code to the cell door and that somehow automatically deactivating the locks on the restraints… or something. But with how many times he does it in R6 with just a touch it’s very clear that that isn’t the case and also imo they’re trying to point this out as a significant detail. 

It may turn out that I’m just looking too much into it, but I find it really curious and interesting. Not only is he the only child without a collar (Mizi and Sua still had them despite being just as well behaved as him), but he seems to be the only one able to take them off –or at least Till’s. I’m pretty sure the children wouldn’t normally be able to remove them by themselves as it seems to be a control mechanism. So how can Ivan? This might explain a lot about how they were able to escape, and also add a layer of tragedy knowing that Ivan could have chosen to escape by himself at any point, but refused to leave Till behind.

Last but not least there’s all the human experimentation Till was subjected to, which was the main topic of the teaser and we see the same images show up in the very beginning of the MV. They help emphasize Till’s suffering and distressed state of mind, but then they’re never expanded on or mentioned at all for the rest of the video. That’s a huge piece of lore that I also hope isn’t forgotten.

I mean, I really doubt it will. So far VIVINOS & co. have been incredible with their ability to hold back information and release it at the moment where it’s the most impactful, which is refreshing to see. So I trust we’ll get some answers eventually. 

Really curious to know why they would experiment on an ALNST contestant in the first place, especially one that is undoubtedly talented and described as a musical genius (aka. has good odds of doing well on stage and earning the segyein revenue). A very plausible theory might just be that he was just getting constantly drugged to make him less of a threat/more submissive –like we see on the karaoke room scene. But it might as well be something bigger.

As for my expectations for the next round… I’m still just trying to process this one, as you can see by the sheer amount of text. There are many things left to address, and the Hyuna/Luka confrontation has been strongly teased. I wonder also, if the round goes on without interruption, what would Luka’s strategy against Till be? Would he go for provocation again, trying to imitate Mizi/hint to his recent trauma with Ivan? It probably won’t be that simple.

I mean, VIVINOS has been known for subverting our expectations with each round:

The ominous/callous framing that was given to Ivan by the end of Black Sorrow and the art that followed, making us suspicious of his intentions, only to have him die for love. The lifeless/doll-like framing given to Luka, vulnerable and cornered by flashing lights, only to have him be the cruelest/most calculating one (that we know so far). The rebellious, rowdy, willing to do anything to survive framing given to Till, only to have his fighting spirit completely break and willingly waiting to die by Ivan’s hands. The naive, complacent and passive image given to Mizi, only to have her snap, beat the shit out of Luka and join the rebellion –and with how things are going (and her being the protagonist) I wouldn’t be surprised if she, and not Hyuna (the one who was framed as the most strong and reliable, giving us a false sense of security going into R6), is who will have to try and rescue Till (and Luka???).

There are still a ton of things that keep me awake at night about R6 –my favorite character dying aside. I could talk about it forever, but I’ll leave it here. 

Feel free to share your theories, delusions, interpretations or any detail I might have missed with me. God knows we need group therapy after this as the cute chibi keychains can only heal us so far. Thanks for reading my rambles if you made it this far. :’)

[akanemnon]

I wanted to create a version of Frara/Squeezo in your style (which I really like) along with a possible form for the Dark World. I’ve made three versions of the same drawing, but now I don’t know which one to choose, so I’d love your opinion or advice as an artist. (I draw on physical paper because it’s easier for me that way.)

There’s not much to say about the "Light World" forms; I simply took the sprite of Frara/Squeezo and adapted it into a drawing. There are a few differences, but I’ll briefly mention them:

The color of the fringe changes: in the first version, it’s rainbow-colored because I thought it looked nice; in the second, it’s gray as a sort of contrast to the first one; and finally, in the third, it’s red, like the classic fringe of Kris and Frisk.

The color of the pants and socks, some details of the sweater, and the hairstyle also change. Lastly, in the third version, there’s a visible eye (to avoid making it look too much like Kris) and a kind of pseudo-nose (which I’m not sure came out well).

The Dark World forms are more interesting:

In the first version, I was inspired by a simple knight, and I used all the colors I had available, thinking it would look good that way. The skin is gray to resemble a doppelgänger in fantasy games (since Frara/Squeezo is a kind of "double" of Frisk/Chara).

The second version, on the other hand, is inspired by a dark wizard (it seemed cool), with white and gray hair. The cape resembles Chara’s shirt as a sort of parallel, since Frisk has a cape with colors similar to Kris’s shirt, and vice versa.

The third version is inspired by this image:

(Doppelgänger from Forgotten Realms).

In this version, I added a weapon, as I realized I hadn’t included one in the previous versions. If you’re wondering why I chose an umbrella as the weapon, it’s because I found this fan art during my research:

(Credit to: @Art-in-heart4va)

I thought it was a cute idea. Finally, I added a few minor details.

Bonus: If you’re wondering why there are red cross-outs on the drawings and why I scribbled on them, it’s because I didn’t want to ruin the drawing.

I tried to come up with a made-up name for Frara/Squeezo. In the first version, he was called John (literally the first name that came to mind...). In the second version, I called him Ulan (because it was the first name that started with “U” that came to mind. Why the "U"? Well, take the first letters of the names Frisk, Chara, and Kris, put them together, and you’ll figure it out (; ). Finally, in the third version, I gave up and still haven’t decided on a name for him...

P.S.: I’m sorry for writing such a long text, but these drawings are very close to my heart, and I wanted to specify every single detail.

Hi there! Thanks for showing me all this art and going though your thought process behind it. I couldn't help but cobble something together on my own, based on all these concept pieces. You might find bits from all designs in there. Also played around with the colors a little, because I do like me some color theory.

Anyway, I REALLY hope you don't mind! I don't wanna undermine your work!

[kozachenko]

And now we are finally getting to the most recent stuff I've worked on, starting off with my 2025 Marisa redraw! This time I'll actually have some more stuff to say since I can remember my thought process while drawing this yipeeee- (click image for better quality)

Artist's Notes;

So ever since doing these redraws, I've always kinda mourned the loss of the second redraw's dramatic lighting, so I decided to finally bring it back for this one! This one is kind of the melding of a bunch of my favourite aspects of the precious redraws, plus some of the newer stuff I've learned ever sine making them. I also tried out a new style of rendering hair for this piece and I'm really happy with how it looks! Also if you guys are wondering, yes that it s the same lantern from the previous Marisa drawing I did, I copy and pasted it because I was lazy and I just needed it to look consistent, work smarter not harder folks.

So I've been returning to my old favourite brush, the Clip Studio Paint Default Oil Paint brush for this one, and I did a bunch of the rendering for this piece with minimal blending. For the clothing, I wanted to incorperate a technique I did a few years ago, where I added some subsurface scattering to make the lighting feel more dynamic, and I love the effect it gave the white parts of the clothes. For the hair rendering, I did one base layer of shadows on top of my base colour for the hair, then a sort of mid-tone underneath it to add some variety in colour, and then did my highlights underneath all of that. I focused less on rendering every single strand of hair and moreso focused on getting the general shapes down, since I got inspired by some art I saw on Pinterest with a similar rendering style.

Once I finished with the base rendering, I used a multiply layer to create some more prominent shadows and also to give the lighting more direction. I did this with another piece as well and I think it gives me some pretty good results. It helps make the shadows a lot clearer and also gives me some better lighting while also allowing me to do some rendering to flesh it out even further, it's the best of both worlds and I have a lot of fun doing it. Also, what helped me a lot in the compositional stage was making a shitty little stick figure version of the character in the pose that I wanted and then painting in the base pose like a mannequin. I find that just painting in the figure immediately instead of forcing myself to stick to a rigid sketch has helped me out a lot, and here's an example of how the process went below. Later on in the drawing I did flip my canvas and after fixing it, realized that I liked it better flipped so that's why the orientation is slightly different. It also helps to just to some quick linework distinguishing the body parts to it's easier for me to draw the clothes. I do often keep major features of the silhouette in tact during this phase though so I don't forget to include them.

The background was actually pretty fun since it's just a nice outdoors scene. I didn't want there to be too much detail since I am all for creating the illusion of detail than rendering everything in immaculate detail, though I do think I could do just a little bit better, but hey that's why I've mainly been drawing backgrounds nowadays lol.

Overall, I'm really proud of this piece and I had a lot of fun making it. I want to continue experimenting with backgrounds and how to incorporate characters into them, so after my hibernation period you guys can expect to see some more of that.

[buckys-little-belle]

Hi!! I love your story’s and am always looking for little and daddy Bucky story’s!! I was wondering if you could do insecure reader who’s bigger. She has bigger thighs a bigger tummy and face. Could you do reader is scared to sit on buckys lap or for him to pick her up and carry her around the house. She’s too scared she’s heavy and will crush him and his legs. or that he will drop her because she’s too big. She also never cuddles and sleeps with him in his room always sleeping in her room after he puts her to bed because she’s scared about her breathing or how she sleeps.

Bucky gets her to tell him why and then comfort. Just fluff fluff fluff. If your not comfortable writing this I totally understand!!! If you do could you ad paci use? Thank you!!! Sorry for the rambling…

Strongest Man Alive

Bucky Barnes x Plus Sized!Little!Reader (She/Her Pronouns Used)

Notes - This is not my best work, and has been in my drafts for MONTHS, it's something cute, and a little angsty at the beginning, but it does get super fluffy at the end. It's a little bit different than my usual writting style, so I apologize for that, but I do hope you like it and if not I'm so sorry! I hope I did this ask justice, and I hope everyone is having a good week!!! <3

Warnings - Talks of reader being self conscious for being 'bigger', kept very vague as she uses the words "heavy" and "squishy" to describe her body type instead of more concrete descriptions, the use of a pacifier is very brief as it's something I'm not used to writing, though I would be willing to continue, mentions of reader eating food "snacks" and "sandwich" though never specified, FLUFF at the end, but there is a moment of angst, I DON'T KNOW IF THIS IS A COHEARANT STORY, it's from the drafts and I gave it a once over and I think it's 'good enough' so I apologize if it's terrible <3

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ .

Y/n often spent their time at the Avengers tower sitting, standing, lingering around Bucky Barnes. It wasn't on purpose, the man just seemed to be the other half of some magnet imbedded deep in Y/n's heart. He just had some ability to pull her towards him.

Maybe it was the way he cut her sandwiches into perfect triangles, or the way his hand always found hers when she got scared. Maybe it was the way he seemed to be reserved around anyone but her that made her feel so connected to him.

He never sulked but always seemed to walk around with a frown stuck on his face, only ever changing it to a smile when she walked by his office or stopped by his room.

As much as Y/n felt like she was pulled to him, Bucky felt it multiplied by 100. His hands always aching to hold hers, his chest always feeling heavy when he began to think about her needing something and him not being around to help her.

The whole tower knew about Y/n's regression. Wanda and Peter often joined in, hanging out in little space and colouring in books Tony had provided, watching whatever new animated movie had just come out and sleeping over in makeshift tents in the living room.

Often other Avengers would help supervise activities, Steve loved playing action fighters in the common areas, Nat loved cuddle puddle on the couch, and Thor was always ready for a park day. Bucky on the other hand liked to stay in the shadows, buying stickers for the group of littles, making them lunch and dropping it off.

Bucky only stuck around if Y/n asked him to hang out with her. "Bucky can you hold my hand?" She had asked him when at the park, he of course grabbed her hand and helped her up the jungle gym.

"Bucky can you open this please?" She had whispered during a movie, her baggie full of snacks too difficult to manage on her own. He opened the baggie and held it in his own grasp, handing her a piece of candy anytime she had finished the previous one.

"Bucky will you colour with me?" She had yelled her ask one day when he was passing by the kitchen, Y/n sat at the island with markers scattered across the marble. He silently sat down and diligently coloured the page she had given him, helping her chase markers that had fallen.

He knew she was comfortable asking for what she wanted, and he knew she wasn't afraid of him ... so, it made his chest tighten every time she asked him to grab something from the top shelf instead of asking to be lifted like Wanda and Peter often asked.

He also felt off every time a little would come running out of their room after a nightmare, rushing into someone's room for a cuddle, yet Y/n's door never opened and neither did his.

Bucky was sure it was his fault she didn't seek him out for cuddles, he thought he had done something wrong when she never asked for a hug. Was it his arm? Was she scared he would turn on her? He couldn't figure it out.

That is until he realised she never asked anyone for a cuddle, or a hug. Nat, Wanda, and Peter would be all comfy on the couch and Y/n would be sat on the chair, a small frown on her face yet she never tried to find a spot next to her friends. And when she scraped her knee on the playground she declined Thor's offer of a "healing" hug.

"Y/n?" His voice was quiet but direct as he called out into the playroom, Y/n sat on the softly coloured rug, her stuffed animals scattered about.

"Hi Bucky!" She smiled, her pacifier tumbling out of her mouth and onto the ground.

"Hi." He sat down across from her, quickly pocketing the fallen pacifier before sought out the, now, dirty thing. "What are you playing?" His hands brushed a stuffed teddy, Y/n tilting her head in confusion as she looked around her.

"'m just dressen 'm up." She smiled at him, grabbing a stuffed unicorn and brushing it's fur back into place, shuffling closer to Bucky as she gathered a few other stuffed animals.

The moment her knees hit his she shifted back, so Bucky shifted his towards her again. Like clockwork she moved and left a small gap between them. "Y/n?"

"Mhm." She looked back at him, her smile one he could easily read through.

"Am I scary?" He asked calmly, not once loosing eye contact as she shook her head 'no'. "Do I smell?" He asked, this time with a laugh.

"No!" She giggled.

"Then why do you run every time I touch you." Instead of answering she bowed her head, hands running over the stuffed animal anxiously. "Why don't you hug Wanda or Peter?" He was worried that all the questions would make her want to run, but as she huffed and leaned into his space slightly he continued. "I know Thor was pretty sad when you declined his hug the other day." That one wasn't a lie, the man had gone on a rant about how he thought he had done something wrong, how he was sure Y/n hated him.

"I jus', I don' want them t' be mad." She admitted, huffing at the end of her sentence. "'m jus', 'm heavy, an' squishy. Wanda and Pete aren't heavy an' squishy." She admitted, eyes locked on the wall, the stuffed unicorn held a little closer to her body.

"What do you mean Baby?" Bucky asked, confused as to what she was alluding to.

"It's harder t' pick me up." She finally looked back at him, tears beginning to gather along her waterline. "And cuddling wif me wouldn' be th' same." She shrugged, trying to play it off like she wasn't bothered by her own words.

The tightness in Bucky's chest didn't ease up with his answer, his worry only growing. He had hoped it was an easy thing to fix, yet knowing Y/n didn't hug her friends, or him, because she felt too big made him hurt. "Baby," He began, not giving Y/n a second to doubt him, he picked her up and sat her in his lap. "you aren't 'too heavy' to pick up." He hated how quickly she curled into his chest, how clear it was that she was missing human connection. "I'm the strongest man alive, and you saying that you're too heavy is going to bruise my ego a bit, Baby." They both laughed, a few of Y/n's tears hitting the fabric of Bucky's shirt.

"I thought Steve was th' strongest man alive?"

"I let him win when we arm wrestle." Bucky admitted, causing Y/n to break out into a fit of giggles.

"'m gonna tell him!" She stood up, bolting for the door.

"Oh no you don't!" Bucky ran after her, lifting her off her feet in the middle of the hallway, Y/n pausing with a gasp, bracing for the two of them to fall, yet laughing along with Bucky as jostled her around, threatening to take her new colouring page off the fridge if she told anyone his secret.

After a pinky promise and some juice Y/n began to trust Bucky a little bit more. She let him pick her up at the playground, and gave him a hug before bed every night. She still worried her hugs were 'bad', that maybe no one would want to hug her because she wasn't 'little' but Bucky never once complained, instead asking for hugs in the morning too.

It took her a while to truly trust that Bucky wasn't lying when he said his back didn't hurt after picking her up, but eventually she became comfortable enough to run and jump into his arms, something she had always dreamed of doing.

It wasn't until a month later that Bucky woke up at 4 am to the sound of Y/n's hurried footsteps rushing to his door. Light creeping in from the opened door she didn't close as she ran to his bed. The sound of soft cries and whispers of "Nightmare" filling the usually quiet space.

Instead of letting her think too much about how she 'should' be cuddling, Bucky just scooped her up and tucked her into his bed, letting her know he'd protect her, and her stuffed animal. He liked having her in his room, it made him feel at ease knowing she was close.

After a few months of staying in Bucky's room, Y/n began to get out of her shell a bit more, hugging Wanda and Peter, and eventually accepting Thor's 'healing' hugs. She finally joined in during the weekly cuddle puddle, laughing along side Nat and her friends as they all got cozy on the couch. And for the first time ever she let someone else, the second strongest man alive, Steve Rogers pick her up. A pride filled movement the man would never forget.

Even though it took her a little longer than everyone else to be comfortable hugging and snuggling, she was happy to finally be apart of the group in ways she wasn't before. Bucky, the man who still often stayed in the shadows, helping from a distance, couldn't help but feel a little lighter every time he saw his girl get over her worries, knowing if anything got to be 'too much' she'd come running to him.

[vincentbriggs]

@once-a-polecat replied to your post “My uncle's friend asked if I wanted this machine...”:

So do Whites have the same parts availability as Singers? I see them around for a fraction of the price, I’ve just been holding out for a Singer because the parts are relatively easy to source. I’ve seen some really lovely White machines tho! I bet yours is going to look stunning when it’s cleaned up. That cabinet is {chefs kiss}

​I don't know, I haven't looked into it because mine's not missing any pieces and still has all 6 bobbins.

I think that as long as you can verify that it has all the parts, and at least one or two bobbins, it probably won't need any new ones.. ever? The little rubber ring on the bobbin winder and the treadle drive belt degrade after a few decades and need replacing, but you can easily buy those, and everything else is highly unlikely to break from regular use.

The one thing I was worried about was accidentally stripping the screws while taking it apart for cleaning, and there was one screw that I didn't quite have the right size of screwdriver for and it started to look a bit ehhhh so I just didn't take that part off. It wasn't one of the really gunky ones anyways, and I did my best to clean around it, and may try again someday if I get more sizes of screwdriver. So I'd advise making sure you have all the right tools before starting and slathering all the stuck bits well in kroil (what the guy in a video I watched yesterday used) or wd-40 (what I used) or some such loosening thing.

It seems like it's very hard to find new bobbins, especially since there are different styles of shuttle and the bobbins are not interchangeable. Mine's a boat style and my bobbins wouldn't work in a bullet style from a couple years later.

While cleaning this thing it hasn't even crossed my mind to wonder where I'd find replacement parts because, well, what could possibly break? Nearly every single piece is cast iron or steel, and it's already been used SO much that the decals on the bottom are almost completely gone just from the amount of fabric that's run over it.

As mentioned in the previous post it's about 140 years old, was owned by a woman who made her living sewing on it for many decades, and it still works just fine! I haven't got the bobbin winder cleaned up yet and it's still off the cabinet, but I couldn't resist trying it out with just the hand wheel (using one of the bobbins that was wound long before I was born) once I got all the bits back on and yeah! Perfect stitches right away!

As long as it's kept well oiled it's just gonna keep on chugging along indefinitely.

Are you seeing these White machines in person at secondhand stores and such? If you can check to make sure they have bobbins and that no pieces are missing, I'd say grab one! Maybe keep some reference pics of working ones so you can look and see, or even better see if you can make a stitch with it before buying it, and presumably if it can do that even slowly and gunkily then it'll just need cleaning like this one did.

By all accounts they're REALLY good machines! I'm super excited to try mine out properly, and to post more about all the features. It has a lip around the bottom of the needle bar so that if some oil drips down it won't get on your needle! Genius!! Why doesn't every machine ever have that?! It's also fairly quiet AND you can adjust the bobbin tension right in the middle of a seam without disturbing the sewing or taking the shuttle out. Incredible.

The manual for mine says "The Best in the World" on it, and while that's just a normal Victorian thing to say about a product, I'm not about to argue with them. There are a few little things that I like better on Singers, such as the quality of the hinges that hold the machine to the cabinet, and the way the presser foot attaches, but all in all this White VSII is extremely goddamn good so far and I have no doubt that once I get the bobbin winder cleaned up it'll also work perfectly!

So yeah, GET ONE!

[vettelsvee]

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 2: LOVING HIM WAS RED [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader

word count: 3972

summary: seb, after not knowing about her for almost five years, finds out that y/n just went viral on youtube after posting a song that might be written about him

warnings: settled on april 2018 and narrated on seb's pov. curse words, mentions of sex and one night stands. apart from that, just a little bit of background story from seb and reader's relationship

taglist: [@saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @nhfls @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife ]

a/n: i know i'm supposed to be posting oscar fics but migraine is killing me today (been quite stressed for the past few days i believe). in the meantime, as i already had it written, here you have part 2 of goodbyes are bittersweet! hope you liked it as much as you liked part 1 (even if it's a bit different). part 3 coming tomorrow if you want so? PLEASE let me know your thoughts and opinions in comments! feedback is appreciated, as well as reblogs <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

2018 April 27th Baku, Azerbaijan

Sebastian

I woke up as soon as I felt the sun’s rays hitting me in the face, and at the same moment I noticed a surprisingly strange warmth next to me, in bed.

I looked at my phone and saw that it was already half-past seven in the morning. Not only had I realized that my alarm hadn’t gone off and I had overslept by an hour and a half, but it was also Y/N’s birthday.

Like every year, there was no response from her to the email I had scheduled to be sent at midnight. 

After almost five years of knowing the bare minimum about her and having seen her a couple of times from afar in Heppenheim, I knew why, deep down, I kept doing it. I still loved her as much as the first day, or even more. I hoped for a reunion where we could tell each other about our lives and start a simple friendship as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn’t chosen to leave my life and act like she didn’t know me.

I decided to turn over to see what was getting closer and closer to me, almost pushing me off the bed. It wasn’t hard to find myself face to face with blue eyes that were not the green ones I had dreamed of that night.

Suddenly, memories from just a few hours ago started to form in my mind. A few beers I shouldn’t have had at a local pub just because I wanted to escape the blurry memory of Y/N were responsible for me meeting this charming young woman with a wonderful smile.

My head couldn’t piece together how we ended up here, but I suppose her insistence, my invitation for her to accompany me to the hotel, and possibly a taxi ride I paid for were the final results of the goal to escape reality. 

This had been my routine since I realized my ex-girlfriend wasn’t coming back into my life. I didn’t like being this way, and although I had tried to find a stable partner, kindness, fun and a temporary refuge had been the best way to try to forget Y/N Y/L/N, who always found a way to slip into my thoughts at the least expected moment.

I quickly got out of bed and, almost without thinking and without needing to undress, jumped into the shower and did my best to let the warm water make me forget everything I had allowed to happen the night before. I closed my eyes and let myself go as much as I could. I tried to organize my thoughts and find the easiest possible way out of the problem I had gotten myself into, but it was impossible to find one that worked.

I got out of there faster than I would have liked. When I returned to the room, with just the towel wrapped around my waist, leaving my entire torso exposed, I found the person I had been avoiding at all costs.

The brunette was already stretching in bed, dawdling and, surely, not wanting to leave.

“Would you mind leaving?”

My rhetorical question made her just look at me in surprise, her eyes still sleepy.

“Why, Seb? Can’t we spend the day together? I could go with you to the paddock and repeat what we did last night in your room or whatever you call it,” she suggested with a playful smile. “You know as well as I do that it would be fun.”

I felt a knot forming in my stomach at her suggestion. It wasn’t that I hadn’t enjoyed her company or was forbidden to do so, but the simple fact of knowing who was turning thirty today, and that this exact proposal was something I used to do with her...

“I don’t think it’s a good idea...” 

Damn, I didn’t remember her name.

“Alessia.”

“That’s it, Alessia,” I confirmed. “You know how these things are and what it could mean for us to be seen together. We could meet another day as... friends.”

Neither my response nor hers were what the other expected. After hearing her name, I remembered the brief introduction she gave me: a musician just starting out and a member of a highly successful Italian orchestra.

An Italian version of Y/N and, unfortunately for me and possibly the blonde, a successful one.

“The way you moaned my name last night so many times is not something friends usually do. You made me feel special last night. A lot, in fact.” 

“I’m sorry, Alessia, that wasn’t what I meant,” I clarified, my cheeks blushing slightly at her statement. “I hope you enjoyed what we did last night, but it’s time for you to get dressed and go back to your hotel or wherever you’re staying. I have to go to work,” I added, trying not to succumb to her obvious charms. 

After several more attempts to convince me, the girl finally resigned herself and reluctantly accepted my suggestion. I felt uncomfortable when she threw off the sheets and began to gather her clothes, completely naked. I felt even worse as I watched her slow and deliberate movements, as if she were prolonging the inevitable farewell and trying to arouse me. 

I bit my lip and refrained from doing or saying anything when she asked for help zipping up her dress. I could have said no, but I didn’t want to seem rude, especially considering that the time I spent with her had made me feel just as I had with my ex-girlfriend. 

Once we were finished, the Italian approached me with determination. Before I could react, her lips sought mine with clear intention. I instinctively turned my face, causing the kiss to land on my cheek instead of my lips. 

“Alessia…” 

What could I say in a situation like this? Did she deserve the hurt I was going to cause her even though we had only had a night of wild sex, like so many others I had had with other girls? 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured hastily, looking away. “I thought… you know, that we could have something more than just a one-night stand.”

My heart sank at her words, and as I had already foreseen, because it always happened in these cases, guilt overwhelmed me. 

I knew I had been unfair to her by allowing this to happen, by letting her believe there could be something more between us, and that the problem was hers when the only one to blame was me, who hadn’t gotten over the love of my life after four years, now closer to five, of no contact. 

“Alessia, you’re an incredible person,” I began to say, trying to find the right words and not hurt her more, “but right now, all I want to focus on is my work and working on myself. It wouldn’t be fair for you to be part of all this and end up getting hurt.”

“I understand,” she said softly, nodding with a sadness that, although expected, still surprised me. “Thank you for letting me spend this night with you, Sebastian.”

I felt overwhelmed and at the same time a great mixture of relief and remorse as I watched her leave without even looking back. 

When enough time had passed to be sure I wouldn’t run into her, I went down to the hotel lobby still feeling that heaviness invading me. I tried to shake off all of them, but as soon as I saw Britta standing in front of the entrance, arms crossed and with an angry look fixed on me, I knew it was going to be difficult. 

“Sebastian, again?” she asked, full of frustration. 

“Yes, and I’m not going to apologize for something I don’t regret,” I replied sincerely, knowing there was no way to avoid the upcoming conversation. 

“Are you going to keep playing this game much longer?” she reproached as she quickened her pace, trying not to cause too much of a scene or draw attention. “You’ve gone longer than I’d like to say without settling down.” 

“I will when I get tired of sleeping with girls I don’t know, I suppose. Having sex is good for health, you know? Be thankful I don’t cause you many problems after these nights.” 

Britta sighed, and I knew my response was making her lose the little patience she had left. 

“I know you didn’t ask for my opinion, but I think what would make you tired of sleeping with strangers almost every Grand Prix week would be to have some kind of interaction with Y/N.” 

The mention of the blonde’s name made the wave of emotions I had tried to bury for years resurface, hitting me suddenly. 

“You know I can’t do that. It’s impossible. I’ve tried, but she doesn’t want to cooperate.” 

“You should at least try once again, at least. I know there’s nothing, nor anyone, who can change her mind,” and it was true. Y/N was the most stubborn person, for better or worse, that I had ever met in my life. “But I also know that if you keep avoiding facing your feelings and trying to forgive yourself for what happened, you’ll never find the peace you’re not only wishing for but also deserving of.” 

“I know, Britta, but…” 

“But what, Sebastian? It’s just that…” 

“Have you ever heard of the invisible string theory?” 

She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the change of subject and possibly for not letting her finish. She slowed her pace, and for the first time in the short time we had been together that day, I felt calm and even understood. 

“Yes, I’ve heard something about that,” she said after a few seconds that felt eternal. “What does that have to do with getting over your ex-girlfriend?”

“Well, everything, really,” I declared. “Y/N and I dated, if you can even call it that, for ten days during Christmas of ’99. She was 11, and I was 12, and I was a bit stupid because I ended up breaking up with her when I fell for a classmate who had just moved to Heppenheim and who eventually started dating my cousin.” 

“But…”

“Then Y/N and I became friends again,” I continued, trying not to let her interrupt my impromptu speech, “and it took six years until she told me she loved me. I didn’t want to admit my feelings and decided that not talking to her for four months was the best, not even to offer my condolences after her grandmother’s death… And look, in the end, I asked her to go out with me!”

My PR sighed, possibly tired of hearing that story once again, a story I never got tired of telling because sometimes reality was weirder than fiction.

“I’m going to tell you what I’ve always told you since Y/N left, and I don’t care if you don’t want to hear it: you’re still clinging to the hope that everything will go back to how it was, even though you know it’s not possible,” she said without a hint of doubt. “Even if you ran into her and had a deep conversation, your lives have changed. At least yours has, and I’m sure hers has too.”

“I mentioned the invisible string theory because I feel like there’s something else. I feel, besides there being something unknown that ties us together for some reason, that the third time's the final one,” I finally confessed.

My confession seemed to have caught her off guard. Now, she slowed, and she was passing her accreditation to enter the paddock much more slowly than she usually did.

Maybe she was right, that I was holding on too tightly to the hope that everything would go back to how it was before, but I had been dreaming about Y/N again for many nights after months without doing so. It had never happened before, but the last few days had felt like she had never left my life and had always been there, just apart.

The last time I had that feeling it ended with me seeing her from a distance playing with a little girl she was probably babysitting to earn some extra money.

Obviously, I didn’t dare to approach her because she seemed... happy. Quite happy, actually.

“I’d like to keep talking about this, but I want you to stop thinking about Y/N, at least for a few hours, and focus on today,” my PR’s change in tone let me know she was serious. “We have a lot to do.”

“Then enlighten me, master.”

“First, you have a meeting with the team to discuss possible strategies for practice and what might work for tomorrow’s qualifying,” the blonde began to explain, taking out her planner and going over the day’s schedule. “Then I think you have an interview with SkySports with Nico Rosberg, and maybe a talk for a collaboration with a brand, but I have to check that again.”

“What time am I supposed to meet with the engineers?”

“Around nine-thirty, but...”

I yawned, not bothering to cover my mouth as my PR continued talking. The heaviness in my eyelids was getting worse, and I felt the exhaustion from the previous night starting to take its toll. I looked at my phone and saw that, unfortunately, it was only eight-fifteen.

Was the day going by that slowly?

“Understood,” I replied, pretending I had been paying attention to everything Britta had said. “By the way, do you mind if I go to my driver’s room to have some rest?”

“Sebastian...”

“I had a fantastic night,” I admitted, causing her to cross her arms and once again look at me with a stern expression, “but I didn’t sleep at all, and if I want to perform well, I need to sleep at least for a bit.”

“You have forty-five minutes at most,” the blonde snapped. “Don’t you dare be late, or we’ll have problems. Set your alarm and make sure your phone is on in case someone calls you.”

It won’t be Y/N, that’s for sure.

“I will, don’t worry.”

I left Britta after exchanging a few more words with her and hurried as much as I could. With every step I took, I felt more tired. I knew I should have slept at least six hours, but I succumbed to the temptation last night to, why not say it, have a good time and, as was more than obvious and had become routine since 2014, try to succeed in the mission of forgetting Y/N on her birthday.

Another year, it had been impossible.

I didn’t know if it was due to lack of sleep or lack of attention, but the voices around me seemed increasingly distant. The only thing I could hear as I walked through the pit lane was a growing murmur where the words “viral” and “song” seemed to be the main topics, especially from the mouths of Max, Daniel, and I’d swear Charles.

“Have you heard this song?” I heard Verstappen say. I stopped when the first piano chords began to play. “It’s like a pandemic; it’s everywhere.”

“I don’t know who the girl singing is, but she’s incredibly talented,” Ricciardo continued. “Do we know who...?”

“You don’t know if it’s a girl!” Leclerc reproached, hitting the Australian on the arm. “What if it’s a guy with a high voice?”

I laughed at the younger guys' antics, wondering if my former teammates saw me that way when I was their age.

Losing him was blue like i’d never known Missing him was dark gray all alone Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met Cos’ loving him was red

If my eyes were almost closing automatically, after hearing the chorus, or whatever it was called, it felt like I had taken an energy drink that had woken me up.

The moment that voice, both raspy and sweet at the same time, penetrated my ear, my hair stood on end. Its familiarity was incredible… but no, it couldn't be her. It was impossible.

"God damn, who can play the piano while singing?" 

"I have two questions," Daniel blurted out, ignoring Charles' words. "The first one is who the fuck it could be, and the second is how the hell they've gotten so much attention out of nowhere."

It's Y/N, who else could it be, I thought.

I tried to control all kinds of thoughts that were running through my head. I knew my ex-girlfriend's voice perfectly, and the one coming from the Dutchman's phone was quite similar to hers.

"Maybe it's a marketing strategy. At least that's what Fernando thinks," Max always had the Spaniard's name in his mouth. "What if it's a marketing strategy by some record label? It could be a plan to generate interest in an artist or a song."

"I highly doubt it. If they wanted to do that, the YouTube account wouldn't be named 151206010614."

Lewis appeared next to me out of nowhere. Quickly taking off his headphones, he also unplugged them from his phone, letting the song play at full volume.

"Seb, are you okay?" insisted the Brit.

"Yes, yes. I was just a bit distracted," I hurried to say.

He didn't seem very satisfied with my answer, but I didn't care. The only thing I was thinking about at that moment was how much I wanted to get to the hospitality area, and how much I wanted to take a micro-nap at this point.

"Are you also distracted thinking about that anonymous person?"

"I can't be distracted by someone I know nothing about other than what I've heard from them," I replied, pointing to the three drivers who were still engrossed in the conversation about the topic.

"I've managed to hear a bit, yes," replied the dark-haired one. "I think I understand music a little more than they do. I'm almost sure it has nothing to do with a record label, and that someone simply uploaded it without any expectations. And look how it went from them."

I looked at him intrigued, understanding little to nothing of what he was saying.

"Since you look confused, I'll explain a bit," Hamilton continued, realizing that I didn't seem to understand much. "It seems they uploaded this song, which happens to be called Red, to YouTube," he hit play and put it on again, now from the beginning, "It seems to be about a failed relationship, but no one knows who sings it or what the real story behind it is."

"Does no one really know anything?" I insisted, finding the situation very strange.

Why was the voice only familiar to me? Could it be because today was Y/N's birthday, and everything reminded me of her much more than usual?

"The only thing we know is that the song is wonderful. Really, I don't know who’s behind this, but if they discover that girl, if it is a girl, and give her a chance, I’m almost sure she can achieve great things."

We decided to move a bit further down the pit lane, exchanging a few words with those we met. Lewis kept talking about the song. I couldn't stop thinking and analyzing the melody, the lyrics, the voice, and especially the user. I knew there was something hidden behind that combination of numbers, and now the priority of sleeping a bit before the first free practice session had taken a back seat.

I tried all possible combinations. Numbers from front to back, in pairs, trios, and even quartets, but nothing seemed to convince me. While the melody of Red continued to resonate from the Mercedes driver's iPhone, my mind kept trying to get the information because something inside me, which was nothing like the feeling I had every April 27th, knew it was Y/N.

I managed to come up with the supposed answer shortly after, recalling some of the important dates for us. If I divided the username into three different sections, with two pairs of numbers each, the first one corresponded to June 15th, 2006.

That was the day I asked Y/N to be my girlfriend. 

If that was right, the second pair of numbers corresponded to January 12th, 2014. I was no longer dating Y/N at that time, but I knew her perfectly, and not to brag, but I was convinced that date must be extremely important to her if it was alongside our anniversary.

I wish I could know what it is that about.

“Are you listening to me?”

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes

Tell myself it's time now, gotta let go

But moving on from him is impossible

When I still see it all in my head

In burning red

I ignored Lewis after hearing, for the first time paying extremely attention, that bridge. 

Somehow, the song described my feelings perfectly, and I didn’t know why I felt that way. I couldn’t let go of Y/N, not when she had been, and still was, the love of my life. 

I entered WhatsApp almost automatically and went into Y/N's profile. She had no profile picture, but I knew perfectly well that it was her because her contact was still saved with the same name. I quickly wrote to her that I knew it was her hiding behind the song and that somehow, I knew she was talking about me. 

I saw Britta approaching us quickly. She was also engrossed in her phone, her fingers constantly moving over it. I didn’t pay much attention to her because once I showed my desperation to Y/N, I moved on to conveying it to Hanna, trying to convince her to reveal that it was her best friend. 

“Seb, we need to talk,” Roeske hurried to say, almost out of breath. Her gaze was still fixed on her device.

“Britta, I can’t right now, I’m sending…”

“Sebastian Vettel, this is serious.”

When she yanked the phone from my hands and I made eye contact with her, I assumed things didn’t seem to be going very well. The moment she turned her gaze to Lewis and he walked away, patting me on the shoulder, I knew.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, quite angry. “Why are you acting like a neurotic who seems to have lost a million euros on a ridiculous bet?”

“I don’t want you to answer anything related to that song that went viral, Red. I’m telling you, Sebastian, don’t you dare answer anything about that damn song.”

And again, this was another sign that happened to make me feel like I hadn’t gone crazy.

“Sebastian, trust me,” Britta remained firm in her expression, crossing her arms. “I don’t want you to get into trouble because the song was uploaded by…”

“Y/N.”

I saw the answer in her eyes. I knew her and knew she longed to answer me and at the same time, she didn’t. 

Britta knew that, but I also had the feeling she seemed to want to hide something.

“It’s her the one singing, right?” I insisted, but she didn’t answer. “Britta, please: tell me.”

I was desperate, and it was more than obvious. A sigh and a few seconds filled with uncertainty preceded her response:

“If you already know, why do you ask me? You know the sunshine of your life, as you still call her, much better than I do. Of course it’s Y/N,” she revealed, lifting a great weight off my shoulders and, above all, making me believe I could have faith in the future.