#black lion records
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drondskaath · 1 year ago
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Avdagata | The Faceless One | 2023
Swedish Melodic Black/Death Metal
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auralatrocityabyss · 2 years ago
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Beneath The Crimson Eclipse Imperial Demonic
Melodic black metal in the style of Dark Funeral, Dissection, and Dimmu Borgir. The vocals in particular stand out for clarity, and like any good band in this style, the riffs are blistering and catchy.
It is available on Bandcamp and physical copies are up for pre-order through Black Lion Records.
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altarus · 6 months ago
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Codex Mortis - Tales of Woe
Dutch death/black/grind metallers Codex Mortis are back with their second sonic assault. We withstood the attack. Continue reading Codex Mortis – Tales of Woe
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metalshockfinland · 9 months ago
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Black Lion Records Announcing Compilation Album "Afterlife In Darkness Part 4" for Free Download
We’re thrilled to unveil our newest creation: “Afterlife in Darkness Part 4.” This compilation showcases fresh, unreleased material from emerging artists of 2023-2024, offering an immersive journey into a diverse array of sounds. Best of all, the album is available as a free download, ensuring accessibility for all music enthusiasts, HERE. Additionally:The artwork for this compilation carries a…
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gbhbl · 1 year ago
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Album Review: Farsoth - Morbid Symphonies (Black Lion Records)
The simplicity of Farsoth’s death metal sound is extremely lovable, even if it is ugly as sin.
Swedish death metal band, Farsoth, will release their brand-new album ‘Morbid Symphonies’ on October 27th, 2023, via Black Lion Records. The simplicity of Farsoth’s death metal sound is extremely lovable, even if it is ugly as sin. Morbid Symphonies features ten tracks of unbridled aggression, undeniable savagery, and uncompromising destructiveness. Nothing more, and nothing less. It’s ten…
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kawaiigirly21 · 2 months ago
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How do you guys feel about a new story centered around The Nemean Lion? I can't decide whether I want her to be the daughter of the original from the myths or be the actual lion Hercules was sent to fight. Which one should Natasha be also PS Hercules is the main love interest in the story for those who are fans of the hunky indomitable war god
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Original 
or
Daughter of the original
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flipperdipper10 · 11 months ago
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It all loops back to 3 houses baby
my wonderful brain gave me the thought process of "what if the factions in magia record arc 2 that poke doesn't shut up about were actually the houses in 3 houses" and now we're humoring that thought process one at a time
Also major 3H and Magia Record arc 2 spoilers
anyway
Starting with Tokime Clan cause they're the easiest. Blue Lions. Tokime's ideals with defending the land of the rising sun fits perfectly with the knightly ideals the Blue Lions represents. They're more traditional, a model standard of an older age, and both are deeply connected to a religious standard or figure (the Tokime Clan with their temples and connection to Bhuddism and Blue Lions with their connection to the Church of Serios.)
Helping their case is also their leader has A Moment where they lose their way and need their friends to bring them back and remind them of what they fought for. In 3H it was Dimitri getting consumed with his vengeance on Edelgard. In Magia Record it was Shizuka getting caught up in the natural goodness of people and needing to protect them by enforcing her morals upon them.
Eventually both routes culminate in attempting to make peace between both sides with the only difference being that in 3H that peace does not come to pass (Edelgard, while agreeing to meet with Dimitri, will not back down for the sake of her ideals) while in Record it does (between the factions, at least. We're ignoring Mikoto.)
Next is Promised Blood, who after a while I'm classifying them as Black Eagles. They're the revolutionaries, the ones who see the problem before them (the problem being the actions of the Wings of the Magius and how the consequences of their actions affected the other towns thus causing the Bloody Tragedy) and deciding "we're going to fix this, no matter what it takes." Not unlike Edelgard who saw the issues of the Crest System (the consequences that it caused as a result of someone's (the church's) actions) and deciding she was going to take the path to fix this, no matter what it took. Both routes are also identified with the color red, Promised Blood's special event being called Crimson Resolve to help with a visual comparison.
Much like the Tokime, there's some comparisons to be made between Yuna and Edelgard. Both experienced a large amount of death at a young age, Edelgard experiencing it at the hands of Those Who Slither In The Dark and their twisted experiments and Yuna experiencing it in the Bloody Tragedy and the war between the factions in Futatsugi City.
Much like in 3H, Promised Blood are the aggressors of the war, the ones who initiate it. They make the first moves and are incredibly difficult to talk down. Between the two, Promised Blood was only capable of being talked down through Iroha's pure heartedness. Fodlan doesn't have an Iroha.
That leaves Neo Magius as Golden Deer, which initially I had these pegged as Black Eagles I think Deer fits them WAYYY more. Neo Magius comes off, much like the Golden Deer, as a joke at first. The Deer have the most silly and rambunctious house out of the 3 pickable ones in 3H. Likewise, Neo Magius initially comes off as a pushover. The weakest faction with Shigure and Hagumu in charge. But let them settle for a while, let them build up their skills, and you have a dangerous faction if you leave them unattended. In 3H this is seen with Golden Deer being far more radical than the Black Eagles (in 3 Hopes Claude fully intends to kill Rhea. Edelgard just wanted to remove her from power, not intending to kill her unless it came to that.) and accomplishing more and growing as a military force as their drive is established.
They start with a messy Alliance and go on to defeat the Empire and conquer the church with Byleth taking charge. Meanwhile, Neo Magius fell into obscurity in the early chapters, but once Himena came to be in charge she led the Neo Magius to become incredibly fearsome, her first appearance she had Miyuri cut someone's hand off. They were the final faction to fall and were the closest to succeeding with their plan before Himena was ultimately talked down by the other Neo Magius members.
Claude and Himena are both jokesters on the surface, quick to make a quip and never revealing their full hand unless it's absolutely necessary. They both specialize in long range (Claude and his bow and Himena with her ribbons and aquatic attacks). They're both tacticians, preferring to think off the field but still being able to hold their own on it. Not only that, but both aren't afraid to play dirty, in fact that's their preferred method if it comes down to fighting. They both love a well placed scheme.
That being said the two would absolutely despise each other if they ever met in real life. Both would try and pick the other for answers they won't give, and Claude would hate the idea of any kind of supremacy.
Lastly that leaves us with Folklore of Zero as the Ashen Wolves. The elusive faction that nobody realizes is there until it's too late. Folklore has members in all factions, much like how the wolves have members from all over Fodlan, and were formerly members in each house (Balthus was a Deer, Yuri was a Lion, and while Constance never enrolled in the academy, due to her former status as an Empire noble, it's safe to assume she'd be an Eagle.). Each member also has one member who isn't apart of any previous faction, Rabi for Record and Hapi for Houses.
Both factions are watchers, preferring to not take a stand in the major combat that's occurring around them. It's simply not their problem, they have their own things to deal with (Wolves with the thieves in Abyss and Folklore with the persecution of Magical Girls in Yukuni city, along with the threat of Doomsday they're prophesizing about.) That isn't to say they won't step up, each of the spies in Record are more than capable of acting in accordance with the factions they're spying for, along with fighting in general if it comes down to it. In 3 Hopes (not Houses) we see each of the factions in that game recruiting various members of the Wolves and having them fight the players chosen faction. It's opposite recruitment to how Folklore did it, but the end result is the same.
That being said, I can't find many similarities between Rabi and Yuri. Rabi is quieter, more resigned to her fate of witchification while Yuri will actively take a stand against anything that gets in the way of his own justice. Rabi has a far more grand end goal than Yuri, with Rabi's clock ticking down until she erases Magical Girls meanwhile Yuri is perfectly content to work with his gang of thieves instead of some grand path and goal like the other house leaders in 3 Houses.
Sorry for the long post I don't normally do these but the idea was really interesting to me and I wanted to write it down somewhere so I'm throwing it on Tumblr. Play Fire Emblem 3 Houses. Watch a translation of Magia Record because the game got discontinued in EN. Please I need more people to scream about this with.
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queer-cosette · 1 year ago
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god I fucking love vinyl records it's like you own a copy of the song that the internet can't take away and it also looks pretty as fuck when you're storing it and also when you're playing it and there's no adverts and they come in cool colours too
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warhead · 2 years ago
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celepeace · 1 year ago
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Tfw you hear a cool bird but it's so distant and quiet that merlin doesn't even show it's hearing anything
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cinemaquiles · 2 years ago
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Cinco fatos envolvendo trilha sonora de filmes que você talvez não saiba!
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jethrowest · 7 months ago
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let me see you stripped down to the bone…
- stripped by depeche mode
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congratulations! you’ve been hired as homelander’s entire glam squad! what an opportunity! now let’s try real hard not to let the fumes get to you, okay?
pairing : homelander/afab reader
word count : 5.6k
warnings : homelander in and of himself, toxic workplace environment, something akin to stockholm syndrome, fingering, smut. 18+, mdni
special thanks to @blindmagdalena @sehtoast @homeb0ys and @clockworkzeppelin for letting me scream at you about this!
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Homelander is an asshole.
That doesn’t bother you much. You’ve dealt with plenty in this field, which means you’ve learned how to make life easier for all parties. That particular learning curve includes when to stand out and blend in, at times concurrently depending on what variety of asshole they happen to be.
As a whole, the makeup artists and hairstylists at Vought take care of The Seven and go where they’re needed. And as a cosmetologist, you were hired to provide both services for Homelander and Homelander only, which you consider to be one of the most prestigious stamps one could add to their professional passport.
Before you became official, you were colorfully threatened by a Ms. Ashley Barrett, who, after the fact, had no qualms throwing you into the lion’s den to figure your own shit out.
In no uncertain terms were you told that if you fucked any part of this up, your sparkling resume would look best as something to sit her smooth, bare ass on while getting fucked on top of her desk. No lube or protection. It would then be tossed exactly like her salad.
Not an image you could have ever predicted crossing your mind. Honestly, you should have stopped her right there and walked your happy little ass out of her office toward pastures that might have not been greener (you were being handsomely compensated), but certainly not as toxic. While the red flags were a color you couldn’t quite ignore, you were also curious about why they stood out so much more than they did regarding previous employers.
None of this is to say you live under a rock. Anyone who has access to the internet is ambushed daily by these Supes’ personal lives. Homelander’s track record as far as choice in partners went hadn’t been ideal, so you understand that made him less popular at the time. That of course has nothing to do with you or your capabilities.
You opt to wear gray-colored glasses, seeing everything with a neutral blend of black and white. As much as possible anyway.
Nevertheless, curiosity killed the cat. But hopefully not your career.
The first day was awkward to say the least. Immediately, you knew you weren’t going to like your coworkers.
Glints of sympathy changed how they perceived you. A target, whether they intended for this to happen or not, was nailed to your forehead, and it made them buzz around you like avid, greedy wasps keen on seeing how rapidly the honeybee will be brutalized. You didn’t much care for going cross-eyed while staring at that target whenever you crossed paths. They didn’t know you, yet because of who you were working under, deemed you helpless. They didn’t give you a chance to establish yourself before branding you a victim.
Why should you respect them?
Small talk wasn’t entertained either, as their judgment tarnished any future encounters. They ostracized you once you showed no interest in engaging with them. That didn’t disappoint you. You weren’t here to make friends.
You do wonder how those before you fared: if they were jaded when they arrived or if they couldn’t help but succumb to the pressures of being at the top rung of a very unstable albeit sought after ladder.
Ms. Barrett quickly introduced you to Homelander, her parting gift before leaving the two of you alone.
You weren’t completely nervous in his presence. He wasn’t any different to you than the other celebrities you’d worked on, except he could rip you in half like a piece of paper if he was so inclined. But he’s the hero of this country’s story, so really, you should have nothing to worry about.
His demeanor, you noted, suggested arrogance, annoyance, and boredom. All things you’re used to. So you offered your hand to shake, which he eyed with a slightly upturned nose before grabbing, told him it was a pleasure to meet him and got straight to business.
Looking back, he was clearly expecting more out of you. Maybe not a display as excessive as getting on your knees and professing your undying love, but close enough. Somewhere in the middle, perhaps.
Part of you believes he might have also counted on fear. To you, he’s not anything or anyone unknown. Another big name in a fancy suit with impossible demands.
You were given a routine to follow and products to use. You did as you were instructed and found the process to be simple and, as Homelander’s expression revealed, uninspiring.
While you were utilizing a face brush to apply powder, he must have decided he was done enduring your lack of enthusiasm, because he suddenly asked, “What are you wearing?”
You stopped for a split second, no longer than, and continued. “The name of my clothing designer, you mean?”
He scoffed, waving his gloved hand at you, almost knocking the applicator you held to the ground. “No, your perfume. What are the top notes?”
You laughed and that seemed to confuse him. “Why, you want a bottle?”
“I don’t like it.” He sniffed sharply and cleared his throat. “Smells like you should be on the corner selling your used body parts.”
Ding ding ding. Alarm bells and red flags galore. You enjoy a challenge, however, and are a bit of a masochist, so you persevere.
“Well, what doesn’t smell like a cheap hooker to you? I’ll start wearing that instead.”
He cocked a brow, studying you. Trying to figure out if you were being serious or mocking him.
“It’s your first day.” A warning. “Are you on your best behavior, or can you do better?” He leaned forward in his chair, forcing you backward. “You should be working harder to prove yourself. Prove your worth.” He sat back again and shrugged. “Or maybe you really are worth as much as that dumpster juice you doused yourself in.”
At this point, he more than likely envisioned your happy little ass getting offended and storming out of the room. Breaking down, sobbing. Questioning why he was being so rude. One of those or, better yet, a nifty combination.
You’ve heard worse, unfortunately for him. Not always directed at you, but that doesn’t matter. You can handle it.
“You’re absolutely right,” you stated calmly, folding your arms across your chest. He looked at you with pretentious, petulant intrigue. “It is my first day, and I want to make a good impression. Which is why I’m asking you what you would like me to wear so I can continue to keep that good impression intact and, as our professional relationship develops, stay on top of it.”
Homelander’s mouth twitched. He sighed deeply and slouched in his seat, staring at the wall to the left of him. Then he deigned to cast his gaze back at you, resting his cheek on his index and middle finger. He tapped the arm rest with his other hand.
“Ugh, fine. Whatever.” A pause followed that lasted longer than necessary. Were you meant to guess? “Just wear something, I dunno, less. If you would have done your homework like a good little peon, you’d know I have super senses. Highly developed. Can you even imagine what that entails?”
Finally, he freed the canvas you were nearly finished with, and you flicked the soft bristles across the bridge of his nose. You smiled, more to yourself than him.
Felt rather on the nose, as the saying goes.
He didn’t comment on your grin. You didn’t give him time to. But he did huff like you were being obtuse on purpose.
“I can try. And my imagination is giving me some less-than-ideal scenarios,” you replied. Another pause. At least he was letting you do your job again.
You don’t know what compelled you to keep going, but something about his lack of a real answer made you carry on. “Do you have a favorite flower or baked good? Maybe a spice?”
Homelander almost glared up at you. You say almost because, for whatever reason, it didn’t seem like he was directing that harshness at you, though former words and actions proved otherwise. Something inside, perhaps. Or outside of this enclosed space.
“I already told you what to wear. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
You took the hint and remained quiet the rest of your session. Soon, you were done.
As you were packing and tidying up your station, he took it upon himself to stand behind you. He lingered over your shoulder, watching the scene play out like he was director and star and you were barely an ant on the sidewalk he acknowledged before squashing.
The heat radiating off of him was impossible to dismiss, a wall of it barricading your backside. He clasped his fingers underneath his cape and inched closer. You thought he was as close to you as he could get without touching you. He was that warm.
When you glanced up, he was staring at you through the mirror. As absurd as it was, you managed to get chills. Goosebumps broke the surface of your skin.
“Fresh chocolate chip cookies. Straight out of the oven. Like mom used to make.” He flashed an unnerving smile before turning to exit.
From there on out, even after you bent to his will and found a gourmand scent that matched what he described, Homelander tested you. Your work ethic, clothing choice, eating habits, and most of all, patience.
Your parents would ask how you were liking your job, how it was working alongside the Supes- not to mention the most famous of all- and you’d lie through your teeth. You felt you had no choice, Ashley’s threat ringing in your ears.
Resume, bare ass, tossed salad...
Oh yeah, it’s going great! They’re all super flexible. I couldn’t be happier!
At least that pun made you feel a little better about hiding the shame of what you’ve allowed yourself to take on.
This was all in the first few weeks. It started to get a little easier after that, which is surprising considering more was added to your to-do list.
You should have moved on before starting. But, for whatever asinine reason, you didn’t.
Every time you go back to your apartment and assess your appearance in the bathroom mirror, you wonder who’s making who up here. He’s changing your looks more than you are his. You’re like his human doll.
You’ve put up with a lot over the years, but this takes the cake and shoves it in your face. As fucked as it is, the flavor is growing on you. Like a fungus. Growing, nonetheless.
You can’t stop thinking about him.
It’s innocent enough, you try convincing yourself. Making sure you have the right outfit laid out the night before, the right lunch (no onions or fish or anything “freaky”!), etc. He is your superior, after all. You shouldn’t be viewing him in any other light.
He’s the most frustrating aspect of your existence these days, but he’s also the one you’re around the most. His penchant for workplace gossip and how unintentionally funny he is tends to make him palatable, which has regrettably become an understatement.
Months go by. You’ve witnessed how alone he truly is. How he has nothing outside of performing his tricks on Vought’s all-encompassing stage. And when he begins asking for your input, starts doing things for you that are so blatant it’s perplexing, you find your stress and vexation melting into cumbersome fascination.
It’s embarrassing. You don’t have the courtesy of enough time to dwell on your feelings toward the situation either, from beginning to whatever end you might be met with. You suppose that could be beneficial in the long run.
It also hits you when you least expect it; when you really don’t want it to.
Your body doesn’t wait until you finally have a moment alone. It decides, while you’re helping Homelander with his skincare routine that he insisted upon because you know more than these vacuous corporate douche-bags, to heat up without warning and slither from your head to your heart until it grasps you unfairly between your legs.
You try not to step into momentary paralysis. You understand to what extent his powers reach. It’s not like he doesn’t go on and on about them. About himself.
Whatever he notices, it’s not right away. A palpable tension fills the air between the two of you eventually. But it takes a more significant amount of time than you would have anticipated to permeate the natural flow of things.
Fuck, you can’t even be safe inside here, where your thoughts, whatever they may be, are yours. You can’t even have yourself. He has every part of you, and you are willingly relinquishing that control.
Your evening, once you can have it, consists of combing over every decision you’ve made leading up to this strange, disorienting space you find yourself occupying. All it does is leave you exasperated in a much different way than before and with an unsettling observation (or hallucination):
Was that the tail end of the American flag outside your window?
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You are unacceptably late.
Rushing around, you throw on the first top and bottoms you see from your closet and spritz some perfume on your neck and wrists. You don’t check your phone. You’re afraid of what will pop up on your screen. And, frankly, you don’t have the time.
Your only option for transportation is the subway, as you’re sure the special vehicle from Vought is long gone. Why would they wait for someone like you, even if you’re practically Homelander’s personal assistant? One of his only friends. You doubt he has more than Black Noir, and that isn’t as perfect as it appears to the casual viewer.
You dread what kind of explosion you’re without a doubt walking into once you show your miserable ass up. You’re going to smell like everyone on this train. He’s going to go ballistic.
The question remains: why are you continuing to put yourself through this? It’s not your circus, yet somehow, the monkeys have become your liability.
You know, deep down, what keeps you going back. It’s simply too ridiculous to admit aloud.
Making your way past security, hurriedly presenting your badge, you realize you forgot to brush your teeth, or at the very least, gargle some mouthwash. You thank your lucky stars when you open your purse to a pack of gum tucked away in one of the compartments.
It will have to do.
When you open the door to Homelander’s dressing room, you see a couple of employees standing near the counter where the bag of supplies has been opened and rifled through, looking like they might soil themselves, a frantic Ashley, and an extremely pissed off Homelander in the middle of it all.
Reflexively, you cringe. You attempt to wipe any trace from your features, but it’s too late. Ashley is glaring daggers at you and Homelander can hardly bring himself to look in your direction. The others don’t matter to you. They never did.
“I’m so sorry I’m late. I know there’s no excuse-”
“You’re goddamned right, there’s no excuse! I don’t give a shit if god and his whole fucking choir of angels came down from heaven and divinely called you to give them a makeover! What were you thinking?!”
You’re about to answer, though you comprehend her query is more or less rhetorical. She interrupts your slightly open mouth while gesturing wildly, proving your point.
“Oh, that’s right! You weren’t thinking at all, were you?! But I do believe you’ve thought long and hard about what’s at stake here. And you know damn well we at Vought don’t tolerate this kind of sloppy behavior. Not to mention the way you’re dressed! It’s adding insult to injury!” Her hand swipes at the air, the length of your outfit, and you glance down, recognizing how comically mismatched you are. Her correct observation affects you more than it would have months prior, stinging your ego- one of the many things that’s been shelved in order to accommodate the person who won’t even grace you with a glance.
A dramatic groan cuts short any further commentary from the redhead, perpetually stretched thin between her absurd duties.
“Jesus Christ, Ashley, why are your big fucking horse gums still flapping?” Homelander’s booming voice slices through your mind like a jarring, dense migraine. He pinches his brow between middle finger and thumb, eyes closed. “I want you and Tweedledee and Tweedledum t’get the fuck out. Now.”
Ashley is plainly dumbfounded, struggling to see where she went wrong (a pattern when it comes to dealing with the volatile leader of The Seven), mouth agape. She shakes her head. “But sir, are you-?”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about or doing. Clearly.”
Ms. Barrett turns a shade paler, staring at Homelander and blinking owlishly before snapping herself out of her stupor. She hurries her lackeys out of the room, shooing them along like a pair of misbehaving toddlers. She doesn’t give a final look, no further warning. She merely shuts the door behind her.
You also hear it lock.
What the hell does she think is going to happen?
You should have stopped this while you had the chance. You should have never taken this job. You should have stood up for yourself and walked out. You should have you should have you should-
“Who the fuck do you think you are?”
His caustic tone sends shivers down your spine. It’s unlike anything you’ve heard come out of him. And you’ve heard enough.
Again, you open your mouth. It fills with blood, thick and metallic and more potent than the mint from your gum. You’re silenced by it.
He stalks toward you and grabs you hastily by the shoulders, swiveling you around so you’re face-to-face with the choices you’ve made. Your mirrored image is reflected back at you, exhausted and searching for any last shred of who you might be beneath his heavy palms.
“Look at yourself! Do you even recognize who’s staring back at you?” No.
“What kind of game are you playing, hmmm? Is this… humiliating spectacle you’re putting on for the money? Your pathetic career? Like it’s goddamned rocket science to pick up a can of hairspray and use it. Monkeys have hands.” He makes a noise that’s akin to a snorting horse, exhaling forcefully past his nostrils. “I mean, did you really think you could pull a fast one on me?” He clutches your jaw, squeezing it between middle and thumb. Every muscle in your body tenses, your heart picking up rhythm.
“Spit that fucking gum out. Don’t think I can’t hear you grinding it between your molars like a dumb animal. You aren’t a mama bird, are you? Y’don’t have cute little baby birds t’force-feed your regurgitated leftovers, do you? Eugh, gross.”
You take a deep breath and exhale through your nose. It presents you with a false sense of security. You do as you’re told, and it lands on the floor in front of your shoe, saliva dangling on a thread as withered as your sanity.
Suddenly fresh breath seems like the most insignificant issue, when Homelander himself once made it out to be something earth-shattering.
You’re such a fool.
He leans in and sniffs your throat. Your fingers lengthen and bend.
You’re so many things at once. Confused, angry, nervous, scared. And, to your dismay, warm. God you’re so fucking warm. He’s heating you up from the inside out. You clench your jaw, still held in place by a firm bind.
“Get rid of those ugly clothes. I don’t care what you have to do. I can’t stand the sight or smell of them.”
You shut your eyes. When you open them, all you see is red. The other emotions are smothered in favor of that brand of heat. What happens next is a blur. You temporarily leave yourself.
“Fine. Have it your way, Homelander. You always do.”
Breaking free of his fluctuating hold, you start tearing at what you’re wearing, tossing everything- including your bra and underwear- to the ground. Your shirt winds up with the gum sticking to its loose fabric. You even take your shoes and socks off, not paying any heed to where your belongings go. Just that they’re gone.
You don’t process the glaring fact that you made yourself naked in front of your boss. In front of the most powerful man this country, and possibly world, has known. You don’t care that things have escalated this far. That they shouldn’t have. They shouldn’t have. But guess what? They did. And these are the consequences you both have to deal with.
“You wanna know what game I’m playing?” You turn around, forcing him backward. “It’s funny, I thought you’d be able to answer that for me, considering all the hoops I’ve had to jump through to not only save my ass, but make sure you had someone to talk to at the end of the day! Who on your team can you say goes above and beyond like that for you?!” He blinks at you now, eyes wide. Features fall to the floor where your clothes reside. You have his full and undivided attention.
An impressively dangerous thing to have.
“What more do you want from me, Homelander? I practically live with you without any of the benefits that usually includes! You’re really going to stand here and berate me like I haven’t given you fucking everything you’ve ever asked me for? Because I made one mistake? I gave up my entire world, which I know doesn’t mean shit to you. But it does to me.”
You fold your arms over your chest. Nothing covers it. You have to know before you lose all dignity. So you ask once more, hoping it won’t get lost in this bizarre mess.
“What do you want from me?”
Nothing. He can’t stop staring at you. You aren’t aware enough to be ashamed, but you are aware enough to be upset.
His infuriating silence compels you to bend down and gather what was a barrier between the two of you. You are no longer needed if he can’t do what he does best, which is spout off, leaking bottled words everywhere like a broken faucet. It’s a pretty simple question, you think.
That’s when the glass behind you shatters.
You flinch, pause what you’re doing and slowly stand. Cautious in whatever your next approach will be.
Surveying the aftermath, you’re relieved to find that you’re far enough away from the mirror so no injuries were inflicted.
When you finally lock eyes with the source, you see red. The atmosphere surrounding you heaves like the distended belly of a rotting corpse; hisses like an overflowing tea kettle; pierces you like lightning.
Homelander’s expression is rigid. His jaw quivers. Irises are a bright, shining scarlet. If you try anything rash, you might be next. But, having been around him for so long, you’re more inclined to believe he’s having trouble processing his own emotions. And that might have been one of the only ways to release them.
You drop the top and pants you managed to reclaim. Your brain hasn’t fully recovered from the constant devastating hit it’s taken, so you don’t want to put a name to what’s pushing you forward. You don’t stop until you’re directly in his line of vision.
Swallowing, you carefully extend your hand. The ruby color begins to crumble and give way to the vast ocean you might have drowned in one too many times. You lost track, blocking what you could out. Too real and intimate to accept for a realm that thrives off of inauthenticity and misfortune.
Homelander inhales harshly and you retreat, pupils hooking themselves to his. Searching for any sign you shouldn’t be right where you are.
Of course there are several; unfortunately, you are currently blind to them. Blind to everything but him.
That’s how it’s been for awhile, hasn’t it?
He has a habit of not granting you the luxury of time.
Quickly, he snatches your wrist and brings your palm flat against his cheek. He exhales, eyelids fluttering, nuzzling into you.
It’s so simple, yet it disarms you in ways you aren’t accustomed to.
Homelander basks in this chaste display of affection, and so do you, in awe of how enraptured he appears. Soaking you inside of his pores.
In turn, your cognizance reappears. You nearly topple over, realization infiltrating every part of you.
You’re not wearing a stitch.
A knock at the door startles you both. You glance over in that general direction and hear from the other side, “You’re on in fifteen, Homelander, sir!”
Gazing back up at him, you witness that same fire expand at a rapid rate. You use your other hand to bring him back down to reality, to ground him. It rests against his chest, delving into and cracking his ribs, flaying him open.
What strikes you is how vigorously his heart is beating. How you can feel it through his uniform.
This is how much you affect him. (Can you fathom that you’re only privy to a fraction?) Having evidence of the tiniest reciprocation drains you of any unwanted discomfort.
His fury subsides. You breathe out. He does, too.
“Go sit in your chair. I came here to do my job, after all.” The tenderness with which you speak seems to ease him further, his shoulders deflating with each word.
That aside, you’re playing with a lit match. You’re unsure who’s going to set who ablaze, but you’re willing to go down with this entire building to find out.
He does as he’s told, watching you the whole way like a mutilated mixture of a snarling cornered animal and a man fervently in love. He almost trips into his seat, not an ounce of grace in his gait.
Sacrificing his entire image just to get a glimpse of you.
Whipping his cape to the side, he sinks into the cushion. You get things ready as you typically do, your movements a bit jittery from the adrenaline sending haphazard jolts to your limbs. Despite this, you’re focused. You are more focused than you remember ever being.
You work efficiently, keeping in mind the limit that’s been put on your time.
Homelander bores holes through you. He doesn’t need lasers for that. You’re exposed and vulnerable and he pries what he fostered apart until it’s distinguishable by no one else but him.
You relearn his perfectly manufactured features. Different lights shape shadows you either haven’t seen before or feigned ignorance of. You commit to memory how he looks, smells, feels, the side of your hand grazing his cheek and hanging on.
He’s invigorating, your excitement building to a crescendo you can’t neglect. The heat in your core disperses, most of it congregating low in your belly and behind your expanding rib cage. His pupils drink you in, urgently and violently.
Your arousal is heady. He licks his lips. A hint of a whine caresses your ears and it makes you dizzy.
How could you have ever denied yourself?
You decide to take further control, testing the waters to a greater extent.
It’s your turn to watch him the whole way down. You straddle him, easing yourself atop his taut thighs.
After a few moments of humoring yourself, of pretending to concentrate on your work, dusting his nose with powder, you straighten. Eye contact has not been severed.
You motion toward his hands, balled into tense, repressed fists at his sides.
“Take off your gloves.”
Initially, it feels like maybe you said the wrong thing, or said it the wrong way. He doesn’t budge. You’re patient, however, so you wait like you’ve always done, the warmth from your cunt mingling with the hardness beneath you. Your mouth waters.
At last, Homelander nods and removes his gloves, tugging on the index of each. He places them on the armrests and transfixes himself to you once more.
“Do you want to touch me?” you ask, voice and body staying impossibly still in spite of your nerves.
Immediately, he shakes his head, “Yes,” the first time he’s spoken since your outburst, and without hesitation, reaches for your chest. You close your eyes, falling into his snooping lifts and tugs and squeezes, giving yourself permission to become possessed by the inhibited imaginations of how selfish, how rapacious his touches might be. How smooth his bare hands are, how ardent each digit is.
Leaning into you, he sucks one nipple into his mouth and palms the other, moaning and vibrating against your flesh. He digs his fingers into the pliant softness of your hip, steadying you with disciplined pressure. You squirm, attuned to every minuscule shift.
The lit match is tilted toward you now, swift and stunning. Your fingers release the brush you’ve been holding. It aligns with the slit of the cushion, forgotten and purposeless.
You wrap your digits around the hand on your curves and guide him toward your throbbing center. He doesn’t fight you. Doesn’t stop your movements. Doesn’t scold or challenge you. Instead, he curls his fingers in a way that makes you unabashedly moan, cupping your folds and pinning his thumb to your clit, adapting to your anatomy.
Your wants.
It seems like breaking away from you is a daunting task, but he does for a moment, brow furrowed, more engrossed and invested than you’ve ever witnessed.
“Fuck.” The curse sounds downright edible, your new favorite flavor. Your name tumbles from his lips like he’s been practicing, a sweet, rich icing on top. You gasp, his tongue adhering to you again, swirling around your peak before lightly biting it.
Rocking your hips back and forth, side-to-side, you grind hard into his palm. He strokes you like he’s studied what pace you prefer, how much friction you crave. You’re so wet, even you’re thrown off by it.
Once he’s finished with your chest, he’s back against the seat, unable to peel his gaze from you. Your full, swollen, glistening breasts.
His mouth hangs open, obscene, desperate whimpers slipping from it. Pupils are like whirlpools that drive you under. Drive you mad.
Homelander adeptly slips two, three digits inside your sopping cunt, unrelenting in his intentions to make up for lost time. The voracity of his actions propels you forward, balancing against his chest. He grasps and pulls at your other hip, groaning loudly in your ear, confirming his approval of how close you are to him.
It’s still not enough.
Pulling you even tighter to his blinding sun of a body, he encloses his free arm around you and desperately bucks his waist. “I want… I want… I want…” he chants. Your nails drag up his neck and along his scalp, overwhelmed by his warmth, his scent, him. Your lips ghost the sliver of skin above his collar, making him growl.
You anticipate and dread and yearn for what’s been building for so long. You clench and release, clench and release, clench and release, body chanting with him.
You’re intuitively thankful for the chair’s sturdiness; however, if it would have collapsed, you’re honestly not sure you would have noticed. Or cared.
You hear him come first. Feel the temperature rise temporarily. It’s so sudden and all-consuming that you naturally follow, his name an instinct you can’t help but divulge. You haven’t come down from the turbulent emotions rushing through you earlier, and that combination catapults you over the edge.
Your orgasm draws more deliberate, vehement grunts and sighs of satisfaction from him, as if your pleasure is inexplicably the same or worth more than his.
You can’t crumple into a boneless heap like you want to. You just can’t. You have to look at him. Look at his bliss; the glazed, barren-yet-so-full-of-you expression, of what these months of working in close quarters have done to him.
What you uncover is not what you were picturing. There’s a mixture of that haze with something almost apologetic below the teeming surface. Clouds of red to skies of blue. Destructive in and of themselves.
Sliding his fingers from your wetness, he wraps his lips around each one that was inside of you and spreads them apart. Your slick sticks to his glossy skin and stretches between digits, a generous amount. You whimper at the loss- the emptying, hollow feeling- and watch, mesmerized and delirious as he savors you.
Swallowing you whole, Homelander sweeps his knuckles across the apple of your cheek and presses his lips hard against yours. He wastes no time inhaling your gasps and moans, licking your mouth and the faint taste of mint, stealing it from you. You ingest what you can of him as well, exploring what was open to you longer than you realized.
He then seizes your wrists. It’s a rough gesture that evaporates into gentle circles along your pulse points. Still, you know you’re going to bruise where he turned the key and locked you into place: wherever he is.
A visible sheen coats his lips.
“I want you to tell me I’m good. Great. The best.”
His breathing is labored. So is yours.
He kisses the inside of the wrist smeared with perfume, your fluids, his saliva; ends with your hand and rests his cheek against the slope of it.
“I want you to be mine. All mine. Mine alone.”
You’re shaking. He moves forward and pets your hair, twirls it; grabs your nape and holds his thumb to the front of your throat. Securing you. Keeping you there.
“You have to stay. Be mine and stay.”
You thrum with an ache he forced upon you. He’ll claim you were starving and he was the only one who could satiate.
You nod. You were never going to leave to begin with.
Homelander made you his. And you thanked him for it.
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foolinafable · 6 months ago
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It's for the best .ೃ࿐
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Keith Kogane x Fem!Reader Synopsis: locked in a cell, the white paladin remembers her happier times and hopes that she can make it back to a certain black paladin. Word count: 3.7K Tags: slight angst, flashbacks, mentions of torture but not graphic, set tentatively around season 4 Notes: Apparently, vld is having a resurgence so send in some requests!
You knew it was for the best. Sat cross-legged in the confines of your cell with a small smile on your lips, contented, knowing that you have done everything you could, that this wasn't in vain- rather it was what was supposed to happen. For the betterment of the entire universe, sometimes sacrifices need to be made. You remember telling Keith something similar during one of his many brooding moments. Now wishing that you could remember which conversation it was or maybe just that you had paid more attention to your time together, especially now you didn’t think you would ever see the boy with the mullet again. 
You were sat next to Hunk, the pair of you looking up giddily at Takashi Shirogane, the famed astro explorer. He was speaking to the class about his recent accomplishment as he had just broken the record for the fastest orbital velocity. Everyone had tried the flight simulator and despite not being able to get passed level 3- like the rest of the class you were still excited by the prospect of meeting the youngest pilot to ever lead a mission in space. Even more happy that you had done better than James Griffin in the simulator- as he never stopped going on about his good grades and how much better he is. So to wipe that smirk off his face made it all worth it. As you and Hunk were fangirling in the corner you heard Griffins whining causing your attention to go back to the simulator, where apparently one more person was having a go. The pair of you walked towards the commotion as the annoyed brunette sounded out “No way! Keith made it past level five?! Thing's got to be broken.” That was the first moment you saw him, well properly at least. The young boy with a mullet and a ‘disciplinary issue’ if you were to listen to what your teachers told you. He walked away from the training simulator with a grin on his face and you couldn’t help but smile too. Especially when he looked your way as he walked off. 
‘He doesn't even know you're gone’ you muse to yourself, and it’s true. The last you had heard from him was on the other side of a screen during a planning meeting with the Blade surrounded by your teammates, who similarly had yet to know the fate of the white paladin of Voltron. They would soon realise when you don't return through the wormhole and when they find your lion broken and alone. But then it will already be too late, as the galaran ship that held you prisoner was already galaxies away taking you towards inevitable doom. You think you're pathetic, as you are already giving up but what else can you do, your weapon is gone, lion missing,  and you are locked in a cell with only your body inside of it with nobody even knowing where you are- not even you. Worry roots deeply inside of yourself as you think of your friends, a lump in your throat growing at the thought of them discovering that you're gone- they have all lost enough already. You’re sure Lance would try to be enthusiastic, claiming that they found Shiro so they could find you. Still, even he would know the saddening truth that the galarans won’t make the same mistake twice as he tries to hide his tears from Pidge who would be clinging to Hunk, begging him to tell her it’s not true- she only just got her brother back and now she has lost her sister- blood related or not. You knew it would destroy the team if you couldn’t get back to them and what worries you is that you're struggling to see a way that you can.
It was nerve-wracking, waiting to find out who Iverson and the rest of the teachers decided to team you up with for the simulators. It was a big deal, as this was going to be your team for the rest of your time in the Garrison. Last year you couldn’t wait for this moment, but maybe that was because you were certain that the boy with the mullet would be by your side as you were as Shiro put it “the only person that can put up with him” but he left, dropped out without so much of a goodbye, and you could understand, the loss of Shiro, Matt and Sam was difficult for everyone but nobody took it worse than Keith and you suppose it made sense as Shiro was all the boy had. You shook the thoughts of him out of your mind when Iverson finally came into the room, twiddling the rings on your rings on your fingers as you stood near Hunk who looked ghostly pale and going on queasy as you both prayed that the older man would do you both a solid and put you two together. You listened as he called names into groups, feeling somewhat better when Griffin was put in a group that didn't include you. Then your name was called and you were told to stand next to a tall Cuban boy wearing blue, you smiled as you walked up to him and he smiled back seemingly just as nervous as you were, then a smaller boy with round glass and a green jumper joined the group, your eyes squinting when looking at him, almost as if you had seen him before but you couldn’t place where. But before you could question it Hunk's name fell out of Iverson’s lips, you looked up in alarm as you saw Hunk coming towards your group, shocked that your prayers had been answered. The fear that was eating away at you was dulled slightly as he came to stand next to you. Sure it wasn’t the team that you wanted but maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Being in space has always made your internal clock question how long has passed, but it seems to be worse when alone in this cell. You believe it has been a few days based on the number of trays of food delivered to your cell, the only interaction with another you’ve had this whole time. At least you think, as you find yourself waking up exhausted with pains and aches all over your body, but you have no memory of doing anything or even anyone coming into your cell in the first place. You thought you would've been face to face with Zarkon or his witch by now, but as time passes, you struggle to believe that would happen at all, which causes a pit to develop in your stomach as the unknown of your future begins to dawn on you.
You can still hear the conforming hum of your lion in the back of your head, trying to reassure you that all is well but as the days pass by you begin to believe it less and less simply repeating to yourself that it was for the best.
“Things could’ve been a lot worse” you theorised. Sat with Pidge in this trash heap with your lions completely shut down. At least you were together and there were (up to now) no enemies trying to kill you both. To be honest, you wouldn’t want to be stuck here with anyone else. After Pidge finally revealed to everyone that she was in fact a girl, something you had figured out back in your garrison days, not long after you had become a team and saw the photo of her and Matt taken prior to the Kerberos mission, but you only knew because he had shown it to you first, during one of his many tutoring sessions with you. You liked to think that while Shiro was Keith’s mentor, Matt was yours. A sentiment he very much enjoyed, so much that Pidge later told you that she had already known who you were when she met you. A fact that made your heart swell. Your friendship with Matt was one of the many reasons that Pidge thought of you like a sister and the main reason you looked after her so much- you wanted to look after her for him while he couldn’t and while this mindset got you into many arguments with Keith over putting her safety over your own you wouldn’t change a thing because you knew it was the right thing to do (Also Keith couldn’t really say anything as he constantly put himself in harms way for everyone on the team.) You couldn’t help but feel protective over her as she was the youngest out of your ragtag bunch and was annoyingly the only one you could baby as you were the second youngest of the group as Lance loved to remind you. While being here with Pidge definitely made you feel a little better, you couldn’t help but be relentlessly worried for the rest of the group, as they always found some way to get into trouble- especially Lance and Keith. It was like trouble sought them out, always getting into some sort of issue whether it be with aliens or with each other. So you couldn’t help but double over in laughter when Pidge using her junk-made paladins started an argument between the fake Lance and Keith.  Eventually, you both decided that you had waited around for help long enough and decided to try and find your own way back to the castle. Pidge made you gather together materials to make a home beacon signal in hopes that it could reach the castles of lions to allow them to find you two. No surprise to you Pidge’s brilliance worked its magic as the castle of lions appeared in the sky from a wormhole, the pair of you hugged each other happy knowing that you weren’t going to grow old on a trash pile as you had both dramatically claimed. You two were more than ready to return to the fight against Zarkon to save the universe and hopefully, find Pidge’s family.      
You dream of him, black hair, violet eyes and his grumpy temperament clouding your thoughts as you try to rest. But, when you wake cold and alone in that dark cell you are reminded of the present and how you need to try and stop yourself from dreaming of the past.
Thought it was “just goodbye for now” you bitterly mumbled as you awoke from another dream of him. This time the memory sticks with you- of the goodbye you shared as he left to find himself with the blades, those were the words he uttered to you as you blanketed him in your embrace. That it was temporary, that you two would come back together again and you remember how you smiled through your sadness nodding at his words, believing him truthfully- as you always did. But you are now struggling to believe it anymore and you don't know if you are more mad at him for uttering those words or yourself for trusting them to be true. Up to now, all attempts to contact your lion have failed miserably but you can still hear your lion if you concentrate enough- as though you two are connected to the same string and you pray that it never snaps, clinging onto it like a lifeline.
You were buzzing, tapping your hands against your legs as you bounced on the balls of your feet, waiting for Pidges Lion in the cockpit while the rest of the team looked at you, amused. Lance, clearly feeding off your joyous attitude, ruffled the hair on your head, messing it up slightly. You turned to the boy, pouting as he withdrew his hands, using your own to try to flatten whatever mess he had made as he giggled at your reaction. A smile quickly returned to your face when Pidge stepped out of her lion with a familiar boy following behind her, you ran towards the pair, wrapping your arms around Matt’s shoulders in welcome, your smile only increasing when he hugged back with just as much gusto, you could hear Lance muttering something about someone being jealous if they were here to Hunk and Shiro but you weren’t paying close enough attention to anything he said, instead, you were very happy that the man who you would call a brother was really okay and just like Shiro had survived the Kerberos mission. When the family reunion had ended Pidge introduced Matt to the rest of the group, except for Keith as he was yet again away on some mission with the Blades. You watched amused as Matt’s eyes landed on Allura and something similar to what you see in a romcom played out as he screamed “You are so beautiful!” you struggled to keep the giggles to yourself as you saw Coran turn red in anger, clearly seeing this as an inappropriate way to talk to the princess and finding humour in Lance’s clear jealousy as Hunk made the boy walk away from the group. You decided to do something similar telling Pidge to give Matt a tour of the castle ship as you walked away with Coran and Allura, pulling both the alteans away with your hands.
Calming down an angry altean was albeit harder than you expected, especially when Allura was of no help at all as she was just laughing at how worked up the older man had become, but you understood it was because he felt so protective over her especially since there was no Alfor to help him and she was like Coran’s little girl so nobody would ever be good enough, you whispered just as much to him as Allura was talking to her mice and that seemed to make him less annoyed, knowing that somebody else understood him. It wasn’t until later when gossiping with Allura about your lives before all this, that she mentioned that it wasn’t just Matt’s interaction with her that annoyed Coran but also his interaction with you, claiming that he always got annoyed when others in his eyes tried to “flirt” with you, her or Pidge. However, she quickly noted that he never got annoyed or got Lance and Hunk to intimidate Keith like he did anyone else when it comes to you a comment made your cheeks burn.   
You startle awake to the sound of your cell door being opened, eyes darting towards the light, confused when the door continues to open, eyes squinting from the light now surrounding you for the first time in weeks as you try to identify the body in front of you when a voice gasped out and a familiar voice spoke your name. All worry evaporated from your body as Matt Holt wrapped you in a hug and you knew for the first time in weeks that everything would be okay and that maybe Keith was right- it was just goodbye for now.
You now sat in the control room of the ship you had been captured in surrounded by freedom fighters. After hearing over hacked intercoms about it carrying ‘precious cargo’ for the emperor, they had infiltrated and taken control of the ship.
“And that was me was it?” you mused looking towards the Holt boy to which he cracked a smile sending you a simple nod in response. You had changed into your white and silver spacesuit and your bayard had been retrieved for you. Now more than ready to return home to the castle of lions, to the paladins and to him. 
The first thing you saw, unsurprisingly, as the ship came out of the wormhole was your lion, growling in happiness, bounding towards her paladin only stopping when she was at the front of the ship, eyes locked onto you. You smiled gleefully at your lion feeling your connection stronger than ever, as though the string that attached the you two was unwavering, unbreakable. As soon as the ship reached the castle of lions you were enveloped in the paladin’s embrace, you would’ve fallen over when Pidge launched herself into your arms, legs wrapped around your middle like a koala,  if weren’t for Lance keeping you balanced by surrounding you in a hug from behind. Hunk joined the misfit group of cadets finishing off the group hug similar to how they used to in the Garrison when they, for once, completed the training simulator much to Iverson’s shock. Thoughts of worry could be seen swimming through Shiro’s eyes as you caught them when looking up, he nodded at you, the tension flinging off him like water down a hill as you turned back to your family holding Pidge and Lance by the backs of their heads, smiling and reassuring them that this was real, that you were real as tears dropped from the twos eyes. You could feel Hunk’s laboured breaths, clearly trying to stay strong for the group as the rest were blubbering messes. Walking away from your embrace and towards the freedom fighters with Shiro shaking hands and thanking them for getting you back to them as the trio dropped towards the floor, holding onto each other like it was the last time. 
It was only later when you had changed into your everyday wear, speaking with Allura and Coran holding both of their hands, stroking them gently that the paladins noticed the new scars decorating your arms and some scorch marks adjourned your neck along with bruising that you wouldn’t comment on. Or rather that you couldn’t as you claimed to not remember anything except for the dark room you were kept in and then Matt saving you. Another change was your hair, which had a white streak in it, you simply chuckled at the development turning to Shiro claiming "We match now" causing everyone to laugh and they supposed it fit you well - “As she is the white paladin” Lance claimed.
It was only when Coran transferred your memories temporarily into a crystal that they all saw what you endured on the ship, you were beaten and tortured for answers, electrocuted, burned for sport and tested on by some druids. At that point, they stopped watching as Shiro was looking rather green, probably from remembering his own time with those vile creatures. But you mused that you were lucky as you still had all your limbs and according to Coran who looked at your scan results from the healing pod whatever they were trying on you didn’t work as you were the same as you were before, “except for a few scars and a new hair colour that is” He pondered twiddling his moustache. And he was right of course you didn’t feel any different, maybe a bit more anxious at night and a few more nightmares but who could blame you after being trapped in a dark room for weeks. Of course, the memory loss was slightly concerning but they all believed it to be a coping mechanism to keep you sane and you were glad that you could only properly remember the dark room, that it was all that really haunted you at night and that those things you saw on the screen projected from your mind didn’t and you hoped it stayed that way.
The entire universe that was apart of the coalition let out a sigh of relief when it was revealed by Allura on comms to the members of the alliance that the white paladin of Voltron had been found and returned mostly unharmed.  However, nobody’s relief could be felt greater than that of Keith Kogane who had been fighting with Kolivan for weeks when they received the information of your disappearance and probable capture, he remembers the way his legs nearly gave out from under him when during a meeting with Allura the altean claimed that Voltron couldn’t come to the rescue this time as they were missing a paladin- missing you. He Surprisingly didn’t even need to sneak out on a blade ship to try and find the castle of lions to see if it was true, rather Kolivan who was probably fed up with his moping simply turned to the boy and gave him ship and co-ordinates simply asking him to back in time for the next meeting. The older Galaran didn’t think he'd see the boy move so fast, mumbling annoyed about how much more work would get done if he did. 
You didn’t hear him on comms asking for Coran to allow him into the cockpit, too busy in the training deck with Shiro and Allura showing them that despite being out of action for a few weeks you were ready to get back out there because as you told them “the galra don’t wait for anyone” and that “this revolution wasn’t going to fight itself.” You didn’t even hear your teammates asking for you to come to the control room over comms, far too busy fighting the training dummies and your comms device left on the side. What you did notice was when you were lifted from behind, a pair of pale arms grabbing you by the waist causing a gasp to erupt from your throat, You spun around ready to attack until your eyes met his, and then your sword dropped to the floor as Keith held you in his arms, staring intensely at you as if you would disappear if he dared to look away for even a second. You quickly returned the embrace, arms circling his back as you threw your head onto his chest, almost unbelieving that he was there, his arms moved, crowding around your head pulling you impossibly closer to his body as he noticed the white strand of hair, his fingers pressed against it confused as he rested his nose atop your head, breathing you in, reminding himself that this was in fact, real and not just one of his sick dreams he has been having since finding out you were gone. 
Being held in his arms made everything real, and you thought that if you had to through everything all over again just to have this moment, in his arms, you would. It was all be for the best if you ended up in his arms at the end of it all.
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metalshockfinland · 2 years ago
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Black Lion Records Releases Label Sampler "Afterlife in Darkness Pt.III"
Black Lion Records Releases Label Sampler “Afterlife in Darkness Pt.III”
Swedish powerhouse label Black Lion Records has released its brand new sampler “Afterlife in Darkness Pt. III”, featuring tracks from such artists as Fatal Embrace, Kvaen, Credic, Vananidr, RF Force and many more! From the genres of black, death and heavy metal, the sampler decently unites the amazing blend of artists the label currently represents. A download of the compilation is…
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gbhbl · 1 year ago
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Album Review: Riddles of the Sycophants by Ghosts of Atlantis (Hammerheart Records)
Ghosts of Atlantis rise from the depths once again to deliver their second album, Riddles of the Sycophants, due for release on the 27th of October, 2023 via Hammerheart Records. The UK based symphonic black/exteme metal band arrived on the scene in early 2021 with their debut album, 3.6.2.4 in some style. An album that had a real impact on me personally, but also on the UK metal scene. A debut…
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yandere-writer-momo · 11 months ago
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Decided to share a piece I had written in 2019
Yandere Short Stories:
Heroes and Villains
Yandere lesbian supervillain x Afab Reader x Yandere Superhero x Yandere Heroine
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  A young woman fidgeted in her seat as she sat in a plush red love seat right outside the CEO’s office. The large black doors intimidating her as she began to sweat. The bunny keychain attached to her black purse jingling every time she shifted in her seat.
     The young reported pulled out a compact mirror from her black purse as she checked her appearance again, making sure not a single hair was out of place to not offend the big bad boss of Domino Electric, the largest electricity company in the nation. The powerhouse of every major city’s power. The young woman had heard rumors that the CEO was a cold woman with a hell of a temper. 
    The young reporter was amazed to have this assignment rather than making a newspaper article on the rise of superheroes and the ever so popular super villainess, Electra.
    Creak. The young reporter’s head snapped up as she quickly composed herself and placed her compact mirror back into her bag. A tall, slender woman stood before her as the assistant gave her a reassuring smile.
    “Miss Spark is ready to speak with you now.” The woman raised a hand to the door with a bow as the young reporter shakily stood up and slowly made her way into the office, the door shutting quickly behind her, trapping her in the den of a lion.
    The young reporter gulped as her (eye color) eyes stared at the figure of a tall, voluptuous woman with long, straight silver hair and a black dress suit on. The businesswoman soon turning around, revealing her beautiful, flawless dark skinned face and violet eyes. The reporter whole face flushed red when they made eye contact. She felt like a tiny rabbit in front of a wolf. Her knees shook as her (eye color) eyes glanced at the CEO’s plump lips and slowly trailing her gaze to the violet silk dress shirt the businesswoman had on under her black dress jacket.
    “Sit down, Miss (last name).” The woman’s voice was cold and firm, the young reporter immediately sitting down as the tall woman sat in front of her. “I believe you have some questions for me?”
     “Ah, y-yes...” the reporter reached into her back, pulling out a notebook and pencil as well as a voice recorder. “I’m so happy for this opportunity, Miss Spark-“
    “You may call me Aria Spark since we are alone together.” The reporter nodded as she opened up the notepad and smiled at the businesswoman. “What is your name?”
    “Oh, my name is (your full name).” (Your name) replies as she turned to the recorded. “Let’s start with the basics shall we?”
   “What made you decide to be a businesswoman?”
    “I lived in poverty as a child and wanted a better life for myself. So I climbed to the top by utilizing my skills.” Aria replied as (your name) smiled at her to continue.
    “And what may those skills be?”
    “I am very good with electrical work.” 
    (Your name) jotted Aria’s answers down as (your name) listened attentively to every word Aria replied to her questions. (Your nams) soon learned a lot about Aria’s childhood such as her old neighborhood being in the ghetto and Aria’ friends and family who either were no longer in her life or still very close. About how it was hard being a lesbian CEO without criticism and hate comments. Aria told (your name) she was bullied a lot throughout high school for being gay. Aria also wanted to become a businesswoman and make it to the top to prove that she wasn’t scared of people’s expectations of her. Aria was a very admirable woman.
    And as the interview came to a close, (Your name) turned off her recorder as the reporter gave Aria another warm smile.
    “Thank you so much for this interview, I will publish this in the magazine soon-“ Aria suddenly leaned forward, placing her hands across her desk to stand in front of (your name), caging the young woman in her chair.
    “You should go out to dinner with me sometime. You’re really cute.” Aria then reached into her pocket and handed (your name) a business card with her name and number on it. “Call me whenever and we can go out.”
    “I-I... Oh um, I think I should go-“
  “You’re such a cute little bottom.” Aria chuckled as her violet eyes stared down at the smaller female through long silver eyelashes. “Makes me want to eat you.”
    “I-I’m leaving! Have a good day!” (Your name) quickly scrambled away, accidentally dropping the bunny keychain as Aria picked it up. The violet eyed woman smiling at the cute rabbit.
    “She’s just like a rabbit.” Aria smirked as she gazed out the door in awe. “And I’m going to have that little rabbit.”
    “Miss Spark, I think you scared her away. I’ve never seen someone run so fast-“ the assistant paused as the businesswoman began to chuckle. “Miss Spark? Are you alright?”
    “She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.” A spark of lavender electricity surrounded Aria as she smirked.
    “Miss Spark, I don’t know if you know her well enough to-“
    “Maybelle, I want all her records and any other personal information you can find about her. I want the little rabbit girl-“
    The assistant sighed as she bowed to her employer. “Right away, Miss Spark.” .
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    “So how’d the interview go, (Your name)?” A slender  woman with long, black hair asked as (your name) flushes bright red. The Japanese woman had her jacket off, revealing her various tattoos and ever so prominent piercings, such as her prized septum ring.
    “R-really good, Ryoko. It’s just-“
    “Just?”
    “I didn’t think she’d be so attractive!” (Your name) squeaked out loudly as everyone in the break room stared at the two women as (your name) flushes even more red. “S-she was so curvy and had the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen. And s-she asked me to dinner. Oh god I ran away from her, I-I’m so humiliated.” 
    The pale woman laughed at (your name) as the young reporter comically hid her face in her arms. 
    “Well, Miss Spark is clearly interested in you. Probably because you scream ‘bottom’-“
    “Why does everyone keep saying that!”
   “Because you’re like a cute little rabbit. So timid and shy. Easily flustered, you’re just really cute.” Ryoko told the (hair color) haired girl as Ryoko smiled, showing off her frenulum piercing. (Your name) began to fiddle with her fingers as she pressed them together.
    “Do you think I should give her a call?”
   “Well, do what your heart wants but we should leave, the pig is here.”
    (Your name) turned her head to see the boss of their News media company, Metro Media, Jasper Jones. He was handsome for a man. Tall with a large muscle build, pale blue eyes, short wavy, sandy blonde hair, a chiseled jaw, and he had this tough guy vibe with a scar right across his nose. He was very handsome and he was a very driven man but-
     “(Your name), there you are, I need you to see me in my office about your report.” His low voice rung out through the break room as he had his hands on top of the doorway, flexing his muscles through his white dress shirt as the other women swooned. All except (your name). She wasn’t interested in him that much. She didn’t understand what the other women found so great about him...
    “Y-yes, mister Jones.”
     “You can call me Jasper.” The man chuckled as (your name) tried not to cry at how much the male scared her. He constantly gave her compliments and although they were never stepping over boundaries, it was the way he stared at her. She has never met anyone who stared at her with eyes that felt as if they were undressing her. Jasper’s pale blue eyes gazed at her with such a burning intensity that (your name) felt as if she’d light on fire at any moment.
    “Um, I prefer Mister Jones. I’ll talk to you once I’m done eating-“
    “How about we go eat in my office-“ (Your name) gulped as she stared at her lap as she fidgeted with her hands nervously. She was so close to crying.
    “S-sorry. Maybe another time-“
   “Alright how about we go out tomorrow at the cafe next door to the building? My treat?”
   “Um, okay-
    “Hey, Mister Jones, (your name) is uncomfortable. Could you tone it down?” Ryoko stepped in as she stood between the two, her onyx eyes glowing gold for the briefest of moments as Jasper stood up and took a step back.
    “Oh sorry, I didn’t realize I did. Sorry for not noticing (your name).” The girl merely smiled shyly as she stared at her lap. “I’ll see you in my office later.”
   Jasper then turned to leave, flexing his back muscles as he did so, causing (your name) to look away in disgust.
    “I don’t like that guy hanging so close around you.” Ryoko stared as she went back to her seat, her onyx eyes furrowing in worry as she gazed at (your name). “You need to be more assertive with your no’s. Just tell him that you’re not interested. I know you’re bisexual but seriously, it’s obvious you lean more towards women. Just tell him you’re gay or something. I’m sure he’ll get the hint then.”
    “But I don’t want to make him u-upset. The look in his eyes scares m-me.” Ryoko frowned as she got up from her seat and wrapped her arms around her mousy friend, her body slowly heating up slightly as she glared at the door Jasper walked out of.
     “Don’t worry, I’ll always protect you, (your name).” Ryoko stated as she pulled the (body type) girl close to her lean muscled body. Ryoko would always be there for (your name) because she was (your name)’s best and only friend. Ryoko wouldn’t let anything happen to her little bunny.
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     Jasper tried not to throw his desk across the room but he really wanted to. He has tried everything to make the timid (Your name) love him. He changed his hair style, started working out more, waxing off his unwanted body hair, and even offered her on dates. But Ryoko was in his way. His grip on his desk tightened as it began to frost over with a thin layer of ice. Jasper exhaled as the air in his office slowly began to drop in temperature. 
    To think his own partner in crime was in an intimate relationship with the cute girl drove him up the wall. (Your name) deserves the absolute best and that’s exactly what he would be. (Your name) could not possibly be gay, she was too cute to be!
    (Your name) was the only one to not see him as a piece of meat and didn’t throw herself at him. She didn’t try anything to make him uncomfortable and respected his space and he absolutely loved it. (Your name) was so attentive to everything he talked about and she was so gentle.
    Jasper remembered the time her hand grazed his hand when he dropped his papers in the elevator as she helped him collect all of his belongings. Her hands were so small and soft compared to his, Jasper swore his heart stopped. Jasper wondered if all of her was soft. He wondered if she thought of him the same way he thought of her. Jasper relaxed as the temperature and ice began to slowly dissipate as his fingers touched his lips as he released a sigh as he began to give into his delusions.
    Did (your name) think of his lips touching her skin so lightly that it felt as if a butterfly landed on each spot his lips would touch? Did she think of Jasper laying beside her at night, holding her close as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear? Did (your name) want to ever date him?
     Jasper clutched his chest as he felt his cheeks flush pink. He loved her so much. He still had so much to learn about her.
   A quiet knock brought Jasper out of his musings as he cleared his throat and opened his office door, revealing his favorite reporter, a few of her (hair color) hairs out of place as she had a somewhat frazzled appearance. Did she run up the stairs to see him? Did she really want to see him that badly? Oh she was just so cute. Would she look like that if he made love to her?
    “Oh, you’re here so quickly (Your name)! I was starting to think you weren’t going to come.” Jasper immediately pulled a chair out for her to sit down as he went over to get her a glass of water from the pitcher. 
    “O-oh. I didn’t want to disappoint you. Shall we go over my article I wrote?”
    “Here drink some water, you look rather frazzled.” Jasper handed her the glass as she shyly took it from him, her fingers brushing his as Jasper tried not to make any inappropriate noises.
    “Oh the elevator took too long so I decided to take the stairs. I am so sorry for my appearance-“
    “It’s okay. I’m just happy to see you.” Just like she was happy to see him, or at least Jasper believed so. Why else would she run up the stairs to get to his office? To get her daily cardio? No, to see him, duh.
    “Shall we begin?” Jasper did not listen to a single word she said, his icy blue eyes were too focused on her plump lips and wondering what they’d feel like against his as he pressed her against the wall and-
     “Mister Jones?” Jasper snapped out of his musings as his blue eyes met (eye color) orbs. “It’s starting to get really cold in here.”
   Jasper immediately realized he accidentally used his powers underneath his desk as his whole face flushed red.
    “W-would you like a jacket? I’m sorry, I didn’t notice.”
    “Oh um, thanks.” Jasper pulled his jacket off his chair as he wrapped it around (your name)’s shoulder’s, his breath hitching as her cheeks flushed slightly as she bundled into his warm oversized jacket.
     Jasper didn’t think she could get any cuter but here she was... in his jacket. Oh lord he was trying so hard not to kiss her right there and then. To not bend her over his desk and tear off her clothes and make the whole department know his name-
     “Thank you, Mister Jones.” Jasper placed his hand over his face as his whole face turned a bright red. Oh lord he was going to catch a case at this point. “I’m done with my report, I’ll leave the article here so you can go over it. Thank you for your time, here’s your jacket back-“
    “Thank you, (your name). Have a good one!” As soon as she left his office and shut the thick mahogany doors, he fell to his knees as he grabbed his jacked and inhaled greedily. Oh lord it smelled like her. (Your name) smelled like roses and vanilla. She was just so sweet and he swore he’d make that sweet girl all his. Jasper swore on his life.
    But first, he was going to add this jacket to his collection. Jasper stood up as he opened up his bottom desk drawer with his key, revealing numerous miscellaneous items that wouldn’t mean much to anyone but they meant the world to him. 
    There were numerous photos of his beloved darling sleeping and an old toothbrush. As well as a tissue, a spoon, and a chapstick he swiped off her desk when she was out and about. And although Jasper hates to admit it, he used the chapstick on rough days to satiate his needs.
   He carefully folded up his jacket and placed it in the drawer as he locked his treasure chest. Jasper then reclined back in his desk chair as he smiled. Jasper couldn’t wait to see her tomorrow across a table from him eating. 
   Maybe this time he’ll get an even better Momento of her.
    Jasper was unaware of the drone outside the complex snapping pictures of his entire interaction as the drone quickly took off, to bring the video evidence to its creator.
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    (Your name) strolled through the bustling city as she smiled. She was finally off from work so she could have some time to herself. 
     As the reporter walked down the street, she heard the screams of the other civilians as people began to scatter around as dark storm clouds covered the skies. (Your name)’s eyes widened. Electra was here.
    She immediately began to flee until she felt arms wrap around her as she was pulled flush against a soft body.
    “Why are you running, little rabbit?” A familiar voice asked as (you’re name began to shake in fear. “You’re so very cute when you shiver. I wonder if you’d shake like that when I-” (Your name) turned a bright red at all the horribly dirty words that came out of the woman’s mouth behind her.
   (Your name) was quickly whipped around to face her captor as her (eye color) eyes took in a tall villainous with long silver hair and a black eye mask on as well as a tight black and violet jumpsuit with a long black cape. She looked so familiar...
    (Your name) didn’t have time to study the super villain before the villainous pulled her close and surrounded the two of them into an electrical barrier as a flaming hot (literally) heroine stood outside the barrier. 
    A lean heroine stood outside the barrier, her flaming hair standing straight up as a dragon mask covered her face and her red leotard had black plated armor in the form of scales armor all over it. 
    Mistress Dragon. (Your name) thought as the red haired heroine put her hands on her hips and glared at the villainous within the barrier.
    “Electra! Release that civilian!” The woman boomed in an intimidating voice that was more than likely edited with a voice changing device.
     “No chance, Mistress Dragon. Not when your little boy toy is running around as well.”
    And soon enough, a ring of ice formed around the entire barrier as a tall, muscular male with the mask of a white fox stood along side Mistress Dragon. His costume consisted of a tight navy blue jumpsuit with silver armor plating with patches of white fur on the shoulders and around the hands and feet. 
     “Sub-Zero, glad to see you’ve made it.” Electra laughed as she grabbed (your name) and placed her plump lips on her cheek. The barrier dissolved as the two heroes began to circle the villainess, preparing to take action against her. 
   “What is your scheme this time, Electra?” Mistress Dragon growled as smoke came out from the mouth of her mask.
    “I just wanted to warn you that I know both of your identities. All thanks to this cute little rabbit.” Electra cooed as she squished (your name)’s cheeks together. “Isn’t she just precious?”
    “Electra, leave her out of this-“ Sub-Zero tried to coax the silver haired villain as the villain began to laugh darkly. 
   “No.” Electra then grabbed (your name) bridal style as she soared into the air, lavender lightning striking the ground as she rose higher and higher, (Your name) screaming as she held onto Electra tightly out of fear of falling.
    Mistress Dragon immediately shifting into a large black oriental Dragon with a fiery red mane and a peculiar septum ring as she swiftly followed behind. Electra cursing under her breath as the dragon quickly caught up to her. She’d have to ditch her prize and come back another time...
    “Let her go!”
   “Okay.” And before (your name) knew it, she was falling through the sky, plummeting to her death. Her scream piercing the air as tears fell from her eyes. She didn’t want to die, not yet at least.
    Before she could even blink, Mistress Dragon shifted and scooped her into her arms as she quickly brought the reporter into her chest, Sub-Zero making a slide for the two to slide down as they made it back to the ground safely. (Your name)’s face flushing red as she studied the masked face of her savior.
    “Are you Alright-“ (Your name) pulled Mistress Dragon close as she began to cry.
    “Thank you. Thank you so much.” (Your name) sobbed as the heroine pulled her into a hug. “How can I ever repay you-“
    “How about a kiss?” Mistress Dragon asked as Sub-Zero’s hands began to shake on the sidelines.
    “Um s-sorry. I don’t think I can.” (Your name) stayed as she began to twiddle her thumbs together nervously. “I have a crush on someone already.”
   “Oh? Well, I respect that.” Mistress Dragon then pulled away as Sub-Zero stepped in.
    “May I escort you home?” Sub-Zero asked as (your name) gulped.
    “S-sure-“
    “Sub-Zero, I think we both need to leave the little lady alone. We could always send a ride to come get her.”
    “How about you head into your place of work and ask one of your coworkers for a ride?” Sub-Zero asked the girl as he smiled gently at her.
    “I’m sure it’ll be easy to do, you’re quite cute after all.” Miss dragon told the reporter as (your name) nodded and headed back into work. The two heroes immediately leaving the scene before paparazzi could show up.
     “Do you need a ride?” (Your name) smiled as her eyes met familiar onyx orbs of her best friend.
    “Yes please.”
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   “(Your name)!” The poor reporter almost cried when Jasper picked her up into a tight hug and twirled her as he sighed dramatically. “I’m so happy you’re okay! You were all over the news! Are you okay-“
    “Oh Jesus, leave the poor girl alone.” Ryoko interrupted as Jasper places (your name) down gently.
   “Sorry Miss Abo.” Jasper replied as Ryoko quickly began to fix (your name)’s hair and set it back into place as the reporter puffed her cheeks out.
    “Please stop touching me you two, I’m okay-“
    “(Your name), you poor little girl.” (Your name) was (height) y’all, but go off Ryoko. “We both just worry about you. Mostly me though-“
    “No I worry more. I was so scared you’d call off and I wouldn’t be able to give you an awesome assignment.”
    “Awesome assignment?”
   “Yes, I’m giving you an assignment to write an article on super heroes. I published your article on Miss Spark in the paper and everyone loved it. So I’m giving you a bigger assignment and this time you will be on the biggest magazine here. How would you like to be the main article in Times magazine?”
  (Your name) smiled as Jasper handed her the assignment. It was information on the cities top two heroes.
    “I need you to write an article on Sub-Zero and Mistress Dragon.  And lucky for you, you encountered the two of them recently.”
    “Thank you so much, Mister Jones.” (Your name) grasped Jasper’s hand as his whole face turned pink.As soon as she released his hand, he turned and coughed into his hand. Excusing himself to the restroom as he left Ryoko and (Your name) in (your name)’s tiny office.
    “I’m seriously glad you’re okay. I honestly thought you were going to take some time off. But I’m happy you’re here. It’s good to have you back.” Ryoko smacked her shoulder playfully as (your name) smiled. 
    This day was giving (your name) so much confidence. Maybe she’d finally call Miss Spark and accept her dinner date?
   (Your name) went over to her black bag, frowning as she noticed her bunny key chain was missing. She shrugged it off, she could always purchase another one.
    (Your name) reached into the middle pocket of her bag and pulled out a black card with a domino on the top of it. She released a shaky breath as she slowly dialed the number on the phone. Her (skin color) skin thumb hesitated before she pushed call, sealing her fate.
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    (Your name) nervously sat at a table for two at a high end restaurant as she nervously sipped on a glass of bubbly white moscato. She really hoped Aria would show up.
    (Your name) glanced around the restaurant until (eye color) met violet orbs. (Your name)’s mouth hung open as she took in Aria’s elegant outfit. Aria wore a long, elegant violet dress that had diamonds sewn into it. A long, white shawl wrapped around her to hide her cleavage from wandering eyes as the tall curvaceous woman strut her way over to (your name). Her white hair was up in an elegant bun with a few silvery strands loose around her face. If (your name) didn’t know any better than Aria would be the African American Jessica Rabbit.
    “Were you waiting long?” Aria asked as she took a seat in from of the (body type) girl. Aria’s dark chocolate skinned hand touching (your name)’s lightly as the girl almost by turned into a puddle of goo. 
    “N-no.” (Your name) stuttered as her cheeks flushed pink. “I was kind of just scared that you weren’t going to show.”
   “Well of course I would, little bunny. I asked you to dinner and I didn’t expect you to call me.” The woman reached into her silver clutch and pulled out a familiar rabbit keychain. “You remind me of one of these.”
    The two of them laughed as they ordered their food and drank numerous glasses of fancy wine. And before (your name) knew it, she was drunk. Very, very drunk. And Aria was nice enough to help her into her limo.
   “I think we should call it a night, bunny. You can’t even keep your head up straight.” Aria chuckled as (your name) just gave her a goofy grin as (your name) struggled to get into the limo.
    “I really like you, Aria.” (Your name) replied as she began to giggle. “I want to go out again sometime-“
    Aria pulled (your name) in for a steamy kiss as (your name) tried to kiss back to the best of her ability. Their tongue moving in sync as Aria pulled (your name) onto her lap and let her hands grab (your name)’s plump read in her hands.
    “Let’s go back to my place, shall we?” (Your name) could only smile as Aria shut the partition as they continued their steamy make out session. Thank god the windows of the limo were tinted.
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    (Your name) woke up with a pounding headache and completely bare in a violet, silk sheeted canopy bed. The bare form of Aria tangled in the sheets with her.
    Aria soon stirred, her violet eyes fluttering open as the silver haired woman pulled (your name) closer to her. Her plump lips kissing the exposed skin on (your name)’s neck.
    “I didn’t take you for a vixen in the sheets. You were so cute last night.” Aria cooed as (your name) flushes red. “But all those cute hickies on your shoulders are marks that you’re mine.
  “Aria-“
    “(Your name), I want you to be my girlfriend.” (Your name) smiled as she kissed Aria again. 
    “Let’s get to know each other better first and then we can be girlfriends. I need a little more time.” Aria nodded as she kissed (your name) on the forehead. 
    “I understand. I’ll wait for you.”
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     A few months had gone by since that night with Aria. And (your name) and Aria were  officially dating. It was such a surprise to everyone. And everyone was happy for her... except Jasper and Ryoko.
    (Your name) could tell Ryoko wasn’t happy about her new relationship status due to how forced her smiles  when she occasionally caught glimpses of the purple marks on her neck she didn’t cover up well enough, but Jasper was a completely different level of upset...
    “(Your name), I brought you a bouquet of red roses!” Jasper proclaimed as the dark bags under his eyes became more prominent as time went on. He didn’t look like he was sleeping well. His skin was paler than normal and his hands were shaky as he held up the bouquet. “They’re almost as beautiful  as you-“
   “Jasper, I’m sorry. I’m in a happy relationship. I cannot accept your gift.” The roses were gently placed into her lap as Jasper’s whole body began to shake as he forced a smile.
     “A woman can’t be with another woman. Y-you’re just confused is all. You’ll come around eventually.” He gave an uneasy laugh before he clutched his hair in his hands. His pale blue eyes widening as a demented smile made its way onto his face. Jasper crouched down on the floor, his hands holding his face while the smile widened even more. The deranged male beginning to ramble to himself. “You have to... you have to love me or I’ll go even more mad...” Jasper whispered to himself while (your name) quickly scurried over to him and wrapped an arm over his shoulders. The young reporter trying to gain his attention.
    “I-I’m sorry, Mister Jones. I just don’t return your feelings and I don’t know if I ever will-“
  “One day...”
   “Excuse me?” (Your name) asked, raising a brow at him. Jasper whipped his head up, revealing his terrifying smile to her, flashing his pearly white teeth at her.
     “You will one day. I swear on it.” Jasper chuckled, pulling her close to him and holding her flush against his chest. He then stood up to his full height, practically picking the girl off the floor while he burrowed his head into (your name)’s hair. Jasper greedily inhaling her scent with the same crazed smile. She still smelled so sweet. Ice began to slowly creep onto (your name)’s jacket as (your name) felt a sudden chill up her spine. Why was she so cold? “You’ll walk down the aisle with me and then you’ll bear my children-“
   “Woah, let the little lady go please.” Ryoko separated the two as her eyes widened in shock as Jasper was basically almost revealed his powers in front of everyone. Ryoko immediately stepping in before Jasper could lose his job. “Let’s go to your office and talk, okay? You’re scaring her.”
    “I-I’m sorry.” Jasper immediately released (your name), the scared look in her eye making his heart clench as he tried not to have a meltdown. “I don’t know what came over me I-“
     (Your name) fled as he tried not to cry out her name as Ryoko led him to his office. Ryoko immediately kicking the door shut behind the two of them as she shoved him roughly into the floor.
    “You’re such an idiot. You almost blew your cover in front of everyone!” Ryoko whisper shouted at him as she kicked him in the leg roughly. “Why can’t you just keep it in your pants?!”
    “I’m in love with her! You should know! You look at her the same way I do when you think no one’s looking-“ Jasper’s head was suddenly thrown to the side as Ryoko struck him. Ryoko’s dark bangs covering her eyes as she scowled in disgust.
    “Don’t ever compare me to you. You’re disgusting-“
    “Why don’t we work together for her affections?!” Jasper shouted as Ryoko’s head snapped up. Her Onyx eyes scanning Jasper’s for any sign of him joking as she began to think. She could tell Jasper was serious for once.
    “Do you think we could do it? I mean I don’t know how I feel about sharing but do you think she’d be okay with it?”
    “What do you mean? We shouldn’t give her a choice, she’d be safe with us. We’re heroes for god’s sake-“
    “I know we are but... I want her to be happy...” Ryoko replied as she rubbed her arm nervously, her dark eyes downcast as she began to fidget under Jasper’s intense gaze. “I don’t want to force her into anything with us. It wouldn’t be the same-“
   “I know but do you really think Electra would let her go? I mean seriously? Miss Spark isn’t that good at keeping her identity hidden. I’m amazed (your name) hasn’t caught on-“
    “(Your name) is oblivious to all of us having powers. I just don’t want to scare her away. She means so much to me. I’m alright with watching her be happy with someone else, unlike you. So long as she doesn’t get hurt.”
    Jasper hummed as he glared at the floor.
    “So I’m taking it as a no until something happens to her?” Jasper asked as his ice colored eyes glazed over with some hidden emotion. 
    “Yes.” Ryoko replied as she opened the door. “Good luck, Jasper.” She then left the room as Jasper stood up headed to his desk, he hunched over his desk as he placed his palms flat on the desk. The room’s temperature dropping in temperature as ice began to cover the entire desk.
  Jasper’s breathing became ragged as he tried to calm down his rage. His fists clenching to the point that his fingernails began to draw blood in their wake. 
   He then screamed in frustration as he slammed his fist into the desk, creating a large crack on the wooden surface as he began to take deep breaths to calm himself down.
    “She’ll be mine... I swear to god.”
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    Ryoko sat in her small apartment as she pulled out a cushion and a lighter and carried it to a spare closet in her room.
     She then lit the small vanilla scented candles to illuminate the object of her desires as she smiled. Her onyx eyes never leaving the (eye color) orbs of her love.
     A large portrait of (your name) sat in the center of the wall as well as pictures of the two of them together. Pictures of every single selfie or pose they took while they were out and about. They had been so close for years, and (your name) didn’t even understand the depth of Ryoko’s feelings for (your name). Ryoko should’ve been more assertive and maybe (your name) would’ve become her girlfriend... Ryoko bowed her head as she began to concentrate on her goal.
     “Patience is key... Electra will mess up soon... and then I’ll be there to catch you.” Ryoko face twisted into a smile that seemed unnatural for her petite face as she leaned forward. Ryoko ran her pale hands gently across the portrait as she sighed longingly. “I love you, (your name).”
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   “Aria!” (Your name) exclaimed as she entered her lover’s office, the silver haired woman shooting up from her desk as a smile made its way to her face.
  “(Your name)!” Elegant black heels came running towards the other woman as Aria swooped (your name) into her strong arms. “How was work?”
    “It was okay. Jasper was acting strange again and Ryoko has been so distant... I miss my best friend.” Aria’s eyes darkened as she pulled (your name) into her arms and furrowed her brow. Why were those two still bothering her lover)? Did those two imbeciles not understand that (Your name) belonged to her? Maybe she’d have to make her move now before those pesky heroes snatched her up...
    “Aria, what’s wrong? Is something bothering you, baby?” Aria tried her best not to melt into a puddle at (your name)’s cute nickname for her.
    “I think we should have some dinner at my place tonight. Does wine sound good?” Aria asked as (your name) nodded excitedly, unaware of Aria’s true intentions.
    “I’ll eat or drink anything as long as it’s with you!” (Your name) beamed as Aria kisses her forehead tenderly, a frown forming on her face as (your name) buried her face into Aria’s shoulder.
    “I’m so sorry...” Aria whispered almost inaudibly as she kissed (your name)’s forehead again. She hoped to god (your name) would forgive her...
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   Drip. Drop. Clink. Clank.
   (Your name) slowly stirred awake as she heard the sound of a faucet dripping. Her (eye color) eyes scanning her unfamiliar surroundings. Where was she? This wasn’t Aria’s house.
    “I’m so sorry, my little rabbit.” Aria replied as (your name) searched around for her lover.
    “Aria? What’s going on? Where am I?” (Your name) tried to stand up to find her lover but was stopped by the chain attached to her ankle. “Why am I chained up-“
    “(Your name), I’m Electra.” Aria’s voice rung out in the dark as (your name) gasped.
    “Y-you’re joking right? There’s no way-“ a burst of violet electricity shot across the room, activating the lights as Aria stood in the entrance of the dark, windowless room.
    “We’re in my secret layer.” Aria replied as her violet eyes began to tear up. “The heroes are after you and I’m just so scared something bad will happen to you. I don’t want you to be caught in the crossfire-“
   “Why would they be after me-“
  “They’re your coworkers (your name). Jasper and Ryoko are Sub-Zero and Mistress Dragon.” The gears began to turn in (your name)’s head as she tried it process what Aria as saying. How could she not have noticed the signs? The septum ring on the dragon? The coldness she’d always feel around Jasper? It all made sense...
    “But why me?” (Your name) asked as Aria frowned.
    “You’re too innocent and way too sweet.” Aria replied as her smooth hands grasped (your name)’s face and kisses her forehead. “I have to defeat them and then I’ll let you go.”
    “Aria, please don’t leave me like this! Please-“ The room soon became pitch black as the door was shut to the room. (Your name)’s sobs could be heard throughout the lair as her heart broke at her lover’s betrayal.
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   (Your name had no idea how long she was trapped in that room without seeing Aria. Hours? Days? Weeks? She didn’t know at all.
   Creak! Slam!
   (Your name)’s head whipped up from the sound of the doorbell opening. Her smile widening as she gazed expectantly at the door. A figure standing in the center of it as (you’re name) began to sob, tears filling her vision.
    “Aria-“ The figure soon feel to the ground as two figures walked in. (Eye color) eyes widening in horror as she scooted herself close to the wall.
    “W-Who are-“
  “I knew we’d find you. It took us a week to get her to tell us where you were. We were so worried when you didn’t come to work.” A familiar voice rung out at she felt a pair of hands on her cheeks. (Eye color) eyes meeting onyx as she gasped.
    “Ryoko-“
    “(Your name)! Don’t forget about me.” Jasper cooed as he grabbed her free hand and placed a gentle kiss on it. “Oh my poor darling, you’re so skinny. I promise we’ll feed you and we’ll both treat you so very well-“
      “What are you talking about?”
    “Oh silly little rabbit.” Jasper chuckled as his icy blue eyes began to glow. “You belong to us now.”
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    “We bring to you breaking news, it turns out Aria Spark of Domino Electric was the dastardly villainess who plagued our city for so long! She is finally captured and placed in the new Super Prison the Hero Association has established far away from here. I also bring to you news that Sub-Zero and Mistress Dragon have officially retired. Who do you think the next rising hero will be of these five-“
    Tears filled (your name)’s eyes as Jasper and Ryoko sat on either side of her, both of their hands lovingly rubbing her large, swollen tummy as they both smiled.
    “I think our baby will be the next rising superhero. What do you think darling?” Jasper cooed as he kissed (your name)’s cheek as tears fell down her cheek.
    “My baby is next! I can’t wait to see you swollen with my little baby dragon. I was able to get a sperm donation from my brother so we can do invitro-fertilization.” Ryoko fondly cooed as she kisses (your name)’s cheek. 
   In the end, the heroes and villains weren’t so different between each other in her story. While her beloved villain would spend the rest of her life rotting behind bars...
  Or was she?
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