#songs that defined my youth | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cheriecelestial · 3 months

Text

Angel Pt.1

pairing*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Red Hood!Jason Todd X fem!reader

disclaimer*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ fluff. slight suggestive content (?). swearing. canon typical violence. kinda long. not proofread !

a/n*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ based on that one prompt “Wow ! You’ve grown so much since I last babysat you” “I want to rail you so bad”. Reader is like 26 and Jason is 19-20. Set in the WFA verse + joyfire are a team. Kinda non canon complacent. Smut in part II

Part II

Under the nocturnal skyline of Gotham perched on a towering building was the vigilante anti- hero Red Hood watching, observing the city like a hunter stalking its next prey. His jacket whipped against the wind of the boisterous and animated city. He closed his eyes and listened to song of wailing sirens and the distant cries of people, ready to respond to the city's calls for help.

Gotham was a city that, much like its vigilantes, thrived in the night. The city was hued in the rapturous and vivacious of the nightlife. Neon signs flickered casting flashes of colours across the pavements of the night clubs. People scattered across the pavements like ants, some making their way home from a tiring day of work, others more aimless and leisure - their destinations less defined and indulgent. He pulled out his grapple hook gun and shot to a building a few blocks away from where his bike was parked.

In the shadowed alleyways, Red Hood felt a sinister presence stir. He kept walking without letting them know that he noticed their presence. By the footsteps, he could tell six no.. seven. Four of medium build and three a bit more burly. Judging by their lack of ability to mask their footsteps, he could guess they're amateurs. Well in all honesty, almost everyone was an amateur compared to him. Slowing his pace, Red Hood's hands instinctively moved to his holster, anticipating a potential confrontation. Nothing beat the thrill of beating up bad guys. However, amid the approaching group, he discerned another set of footsteps — urgent, lighter, tinged with fear, and most importantly heading directly toward him.

He felt someone clutch the lapel of his jacket desperately. "You're a vigilante, aren't you ? Please help me sir. I think there are bad people following me." Red Hood looked to his side and saw a woman much shorter than him and shaking like a leaf in wind. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at her. It had been almost a decade since he had gazed into those warm large eyes—a fragment of his childhood that he had long relegated to oblivion. Jason Todd had what most would call a troubled childhood. Abandoned by his birth mother and the only other one he had dead from drug abuse and an even worse father who died the hands of Two Face. Tossed through the foster system, he eventually found himself on the unforgiving streets of Gotham. Amid the darkest moments of his youth, one saving grace remained —his angel,Y/N L/N. One he completely forgot about when he assumed the mantle of Robin.

"Help me please." She implored, her voice trembling and on the verge of breaking - the same one who would calm his raging storm on bad nights and tell him that he was going to be okay, and in the moment he swore he was. Her gaze shifted between the men and the vigilante, moving closer to him without realizing to shield herself from the villains in the shadows. Almost as if in a trance, he raised his gloved hand to caress her cheek as if to check if she was real or not. "Just follow my lead." He spoke in a low tone and the woman nodded frantically. His hand encircled her wrist and he started running, dragging her behind him the second he heard the thugs charge. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't think twice before starting a fight and having it his way. But he couldn't bear endangering her in the slightest so getting her to safety was the only viable option.

Her breath came in rapid gasps, and beads of sweat glistened on side of her forehead as they navigated the maze of alleyways in their path. The flickering glow of distant streetlights created fleeting glimpses of their pursuers. Her heart pounded in her chest like the strumming of a frantic drum as adrenaline pumped poisoned her veins. Jason noticed that she couldn't run fast enough to outrun the thugs with her stamina. "Sorry about what I'm about to do”,he warned in a hushed whisper and without hesitation, he lifted her over his shoulder and began running. Y/N gasped, clutching onto the vigilante for dear life. Wind ruffled her hair as she watched the vigilante leave behind their pursuers effortlessly. "You know if this vigilante thing doesn't work out you could try out for the Olympics." She muttered not realizing she said it out loud. Red Hood let out a gruff laugh, "I could but I like beating up bad guys and saving people such as yourself just a tad bit more angel." Y/N blushed at the nickname but waved it off as commonplace banter.

He set her down next to his bike. And took off his chocolate coloured jacket and draped it around her shoulders. "How could I ever thank you?" The h/c haired woman smiled at him with a smile so infectious that the corners of Jason's lips curled up without his realising under his mask. "Don't thank me just yet princess. They aren't near done." Y/N blinked in confusion and followed Red Hood's line of sight where she saw three black cars racing towards them. Her features morphed from relief to horror and alarm in the blink of an eye.The vigilante revved his bike and looked at her,"What are you waiting for?" The woman looks at the approaching cars and back at the vigilante, contemplating her options and got on the back of his bike. His hand envelops her and plants it onto his waist as if silently asking her to hold onto him. Y/N flinches at the contact as it she touched something really hot and retracted her hand.

The masked vigilante plucks a helmet out of the saddlebag and strapped it on her head."You might want to hold on angel." Y/N hums in acknowledgment and holds the grab handle behind the seat. Jason rolled his eyes at her refusal to hold onto him and revves the engine making her lurch forward and crash into his back. Realising that doing this any other way apart from his was futile, Y/N timidly encircled her arms around his waist.

The vibrations of the engine shook her whole being as he raced down the streets. The streets, trees, people blurred in her peripheral vision and she started feeling light-headed. Gathering all the morsels of courage she could find, she looked behind her to see the thugs chasing them. They hadn't lost the three cars and things just got worse when she saw a man peek his head out of the window with a fun in his hand. I'm so dying today. She clasped her hands tighter around him and pressed her face against his rigid muscular back in fear.

Sensing her unease, he looped his arm around her waist and pulled her infront of him. Y/N let out a yelp from the suddenness of the contact.

"What are you -"

"You don’t want your back facing them when they start shooting soon." Y/N looked over his shoulder to the thugs and then sunk back into and then sank back against his chest.

"You know if it makes you feel better just know this is an average Tuesday for me." Y/N blinked at him incredulously and in a small voice muttered,"It's Thursday today." A nonchalant shrug was all the answer he decided to give her. How the hell does he manage to remain calm through it? I'm on the verge of a panic attack and he's swerving as if this is a joyride in his kingdom. And in that moment if someone said that he was the king of Gotham, Y/N would find it hard to refute it.

The bike picked up speed causing the h/c haired woman to crash against his chest harshly. It was as if the pressure of the wind glued her against him. To calm herself, she decided to try concentrating elsewhere. Absentmindedly trailing the ridges of his armour and the red bat symbol on his chest. She heard whispers and rumours about Red Hood, the prince of crime, the scourge of the underworld—an outlaw employing more lethal methods against crime than Batman. Despite initial conflicts with Batman, he was acknowledged as a Bat vigilante some time ago. This man was dangerous and unpredictable then why did he feel so familiar to her ?

“I know I have god-tier pectoral muscles but I’d appreciate if you stopped distracting me like that.” Red Hood quipped, sounding almost smug at her fascination. Heat rushed into her cheeks and she quickly withdrew her hand, realising how inappropriate that must’ve felt and hastily clarified,“ I’m so sorry, I’m not a pervert I swear.” Y/N felt his chest rumble with a chuckle.

“Hold on.” Red Hood skidded the bike across the road with a loud screech, making Y/N wince at the sound of the metal scratching against the gravel. He loaded his gun with one hand still wrapped around Y/N protectively and aimed at the tires of the approaching car. “I’d suggest for you to not look at it.”Y/N averted her gaze and moments later, she heard a series of crashes and explosions.

“Jesus Christ I thought I was going to die !” She exhaled in relief. Red Hood turned his face towards her slowly and looked at her as if deadpanning through the mask,“ I’m here you know. What makes you think I’d let you die ?” He retorted taking full offence of her words. “I- I didn’t mean it like that -” she stammered, partly scared to offend the vigilante.

"Whatever I'll drop you off." Jason rolled his eyes and patted the seat behind him. Y/N hesitated, remembering her mother's warning about getting on bikes with strange men, but given her current situation, she realized it was too late to dwell on that now. With no one pursuing them, the ride felt much more pleasant. The speed and the wind against her hair seemed to turn her blood to gasoline as the air dissipated from her lungs. Adrenaline fueled activities weren't for her, at least that's what her sense of self preservation told her. Y/ N pressed her cheek against Red Hood's back. Vigilantes had a symbiotic relationship with the city and as was a common saying in Gotham "The less bats you run into the happier your life is." She knew that this encounter might be a fleeting one, so she decided to relish the moment for now.

Feelings and thoughts were long forgotten, where everything faded into the background and only her physical self exists and the dancing lights at the hazy edges of her vision offered an intoxicating taste of freedom that was indescribable — stripped of obligations, responsibilities and consequences.

Y/N almost doesn’t notice when he stopped the bike. “Do you plan on holding onto me for long ? Not that I mind but we’re here.” Red Hood hopped off the bike and Y/N took off her helmet and hung it onto the handlebar. She scanned her surroundings, they were in front of a five star hotel with sports cars parked on either side of of the road. “Why are we here ?” The woman asked following behind the masked vigilante. “Well for one I don’t know your address so I can’t drop you home and second it’s too late so you should stay the night at a hotel and go home in the morning. It’s safer that way.” Y/N stared at him in disbelief,“ But I don’t have the kind of money to rent a room in a place like this.” Red Hood retrieved a key card from his pocket and placed it on her palm,“Who said anything about paying ?” The h/c haired took it reluctantly and slowly walked to the entrance of the hotel, looking back at him again and again. It wasn’t until she was inside the hotel that she saw him drive off. Y/N walked to the concierge desk and showed her the card. The receptionist eyed her with suspicion considering how she looked so out of place compared to her opulent setting. “Please fill this form. It’s for security purposes.”

The form asked things like her address and her phone number. As reluctant as she was, the receptionist looked like she wasn’t letting her through unless she filled it. Wary of the dangers of misuse of information, Y/N tried to keep her responses as brief as possible. Paranoia was the best friend of a Gothamite considering everything that went down in this hellhole. It was good to always assume the worse and subsequently prepare for it.

The receptionist offered her a tight smile and walked her to the suite. Calling it a suite was an understatement since it was the penthouse on top of the hotel. Just how rich is this guy ? Y/N assumed that the house was a property he didn’t live in because the place lacked personal touch. Either that or he was a real minimalist which was unlikely considering bat vigilantes’ love for theatrics. Y/N wondered if all the bat vigilantes were like a huge family with Batman as papa bat. Where would Red Hood fall in the hierarchy ? If she were to guess, she’d say he was probably the black sheep of the family. Y/N looked around the house, it was one straight out of architectural digests with its high ceilings and cool grey and white interior. She looked at the time and decided it was best if she hit the shower and go to bed and finally put an end to this crazy day.

Jason Todd checked into the hotel the next morning and was greeted by the overly friendly receptionist, personally he didn’t mind fangirls but anyone with even half a braincell knew the risks of being a vigilante groupie. She passed him the form that Y/N filled. He couldn’t help but smile at the form. Filling her work address and a phone number both which were most likely false give the conspicuous number of 7’s in the number ? She’s smarter than most civilians, he’d give her that. The penthouse looked almost unhampered with. His jacket was neatly folded on the dining table with a note reading “Thank you so much for saving me. Regards.” The tone of the note was clear ‘I appreciate you saving me but I hope we never meet again.’ Jason pocketed the note and left the penthouse. Fates had been kind enough to reunite him with his angel and he’d be damned if he let her get away .

“Yoohoo Y/N to earth. Anybody home ?”Y/N’s coworker snapped her fingers in front her face, snapping her out of her reverie. “Sorry about that Steph.” Y/N apologised with an awkward laugh. Stephanie Brown, albeit several years younger, was one of Y/N’s closest friends. She was a bubbly and cheerful soul anyone could tell that by the first impression she projected.

Since the night almost a week ago with the mysterious vigilante, Y/N often found her thoughts plagued by him. Curiosity of where he would be or what he would be doing right now. Her eyes often looked for any news of him while watching the news. I really have to stop thinking about him, even though they lived in the same city, the odds of them running into each other were minute.

The door opened and the bell on top of it clanged, announcing the arrival of a customer. “Mornin’ ladies.” The customer greeted. Y/N turned her attention at the newcomer at the counter. “Good morning detective !” she greeted the customer with a bright smile.

Dick Grayson served as a police officer under the GCPD and was one of the cafe’s frequents. From experiences of her own childhood, Y/N consider the police nothing but corrupt individuals on payroll of powerful people who bullied those weaker than them. But detective Grayson was one of the good and honest ones. He played a massive role in restoring Y/N’s faith that there were those in the police force who could be relied upon and ones that fought for a better Gotham.

"I'll go with the..." he glanced at the menu, a ritual he often performed. "the regular?" Y/N finished his sentence. He responded with a smile, revealing his dimples. "I never understand why you bother with the menu when you always order the same thing," she remarked. He shrugged nonchalantly, as if saying 'who knows.' A smile crept onto her face as she made his order.

“So how’s everything with the family ?” Y/N asked, making small talk. Beyond his consistent ordering and punctual 9:00 AM café visits, he frequently shared his sibling issues. "Oh, where do I begin? My brother is acting up, yet again. He pulled some crap about a week ago. He broke one of Dad’s rules, even though he said he did it to help someone but Dad was just not having it."

“ Which one ? The cool rebellious one or the little gremlin one ?” Y/N laughed sympathetically. She didn’t feel the need to probe and ask much but she always lent an ear to a friend so naturally she knew them by characteristics and not by name. From what she knew, Dick Grayson had three younger brothers - the broody rebellious one, the caffein addict smartass and the 4 foot gremlin edgelord from hell.

“The rebellious one.” he sighed wearily. Y/N placed his order on the counter, including a small pack of cookies. “On the house. You could use some sugar anyway. They’re free testers before we put them on the menu.” Dick accepted the coffee and cookie packet, flashing a bright smile. “Thank you so much. You’re an angel.” An odd feeling resonated within her when Dick called her that. That’s what Red Hood called her. Somehow the way the word rolled off his tongue seemed so different compared to when anyone else said it.

“Hey Dick do you mind if I ask you something ?” Dick nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “What do you know about the Red Hood ?”

Dick choked on his drink and burst into a fit of coughs. It took him a while to compose himself. “He’s alright. I mean he does help the GCPD I guess but he’s too unpredictable and we don’t exactly approve of his methods. He doesn’t hurt innocents but he’s bad news. Why do you ask ?”

“No reason.”Y/N brushed off the inquiry, and although Dick seemed skeptical, he left after leaving a tip. There. Is your curiosity satiated ? Even Dick said he’s bad news now can we stop thinking about him ? Her inner conscience reprimanded her.

Y/N's weary steps echoed in the quiet street as she walked home from work at night. The flickering light from the street lights streetlights casted long almost sentient looking shadows. Her thoughts — a mix of the day's challenges, the longing for the comfort of home blurred into oblivion when a strange chill crept up her spine with a sense of foreboding. Cautious of her surroundings, Y/N constantly kept watch around herself. Just a few yards before her apartment building, she heard their neighbourhood strays agitatedly hiss to something near the dumpster. Not wanting to get involved in whatever trouble Gotham had brought to her feet, she fastened her pace. Suddenly, a flash of vibrant red —the same shade she had been secretly craving to see in the past week, caught her eye.

“Red Hood ?” Y/N stepped into the shadows cautiously as if ready to flee at the first signs of trouble.

“Angel ?” He asked gruffly. Y/N walked closer and found him against the wall, clutching his side. His wound wasn’t a death sentence but needed to be tended to quickly. Her eyes widened in horror when she noticed the crimson coating his fingers,“You’re hurt !”

“ ‘Tis but a scratch m’lady.” He let out a pained laugh seeming to ease her nerves. “We need to get that treated.” Y/N urged. She knew that vigilantes couldn’t just walked into hospitals to get patched up because of the whole secret identity thing. And she also knew that taking it upon herself to treat him would go against every plan of self preservation she had. But she owed him his life. I’ll pay off my debt and we’ll never meet again. Y/N mentally decided and looked at him with newfound determination in her eyes. “My apartment is just upstairs. I have a first aid kit. Come with me.”

Red Hood gazed at her, momentarily lost in thought, then lifted his other hand to gently stroke her cheek. Y/N flinched at his touch, making him withdraw his hand. “Sorry I thought I was hallucinating you because from the blood loss. ” He admitted meekly. Y/N sighed and placed his hand over her shoulder. “Can you stand?” The masked vigilante nodded, rising slowly with a grunt.

Swallowing her rising concern, she brought him to her house and beckoned him towards her couch. Red Hood’s every step betrayed a hint of discomfort, his grimace almost visible even behind that signature mask. The second he dropped on her couch, she disappeared. He caught flashes of her running around the house like a busy bee at work. In seconds, she produced a first-aid kit and knelt next to him. “Lift your shirt.” She maintained her clinical tone, but the concern was evident with her eyes trained on the wound.

“Angel you know if you wanted to –” Jason started with a cheeky tone but was cut off by a stern glare, “Ahem yes ma’am”

Y/N breath hitched every so slightly when she saw the injury. It didn’t look like a bullet wound, the malformed spindle shape resembled a stab wound. “I’m sorry I don’t have any anaesthetic.” She didn’t look up from the wound as her cotton swab glided over the grevions injury. Shifting her elbow to his other hand on his thigh, Red Hood tilted his head seemingly questioning her,“ You can hold my arm and squeeze it if it hurts. I’ve heard that helps.”

“Appreciate the gesture angel but I’m pretty sure I’d snap your arm in half if I did.” His tone was both dismissive and endearing. Y/N didn’t insist, given his strength what he said was probably true. Vigilantes were exceptionally trained, surpassing conventional human limits. Unlike the caped metahuman from Metropolis, the bat vigilantes were more cryptid in nature. None would be where they came from and where they went. Invulnerable and insurmountable. Despite him being in a position that would render others vulnerable, he appeared unfazed, akin to a wounded yet formidable beast. There was a natural aura of dominance and power about him. They don’t call him the Prince of Gotham for no reason that’s for sure.

“You’re good at this. Like one of the best I’ve seen.” He spoke up, seemingly trying to come off as capable of being civil. “Well three years of med school. Some stitching is the least I can do.” She explained. Red Hood visible froze for a good second and inquired,“ You’re a doctor ?”

Y/N scoffed,“ Look around. Do I look like one ?” Red Hood looked around her apartment. Although well maintained, an ode to her efforts, the apartment was old and almost pitiful . Most of the furniture looked second hand and cheap. The curtain rods were rusted and the paint was peeling off from the walls with damp spots on the ceilings.

“You dropped out ?” He guessed. “Yeah. Couldn’t afford it.” She chuckled bitterly.

“Didn’t they offer scholarships or something ?” Jason was aware of Wayne Enterprises’ scholarship programs for talented students. When Bruce took him in, he assured Jason that if Y/N met the criteria, she would be enrolled in the program. Y/N’s intellect had always impressed Jason since childhood, he remembered that she would often sneak into libraries and memorise books worth of stories to recite them to Jason to help him sleep. There was just no way she wouldn’t be accepted into the program.

“They did but that didn’t pay bills. I needed to find a job to pay for my mom’s hospital bills.” She kept her response short, clearly not wanting to delve deep into the topic. “Work for me.” The statement was like a whiplash for Y/N. Work for him ? There weren’t many things Y/N had to take a double take for but this proposition was entirely unexpected. It caught her off guard, she stared at him incredulously with widened eyes. Red Hood was know for operating in the gray areas between legality and criminality and wasn’t exactly your quintessential example of a righteous lawful hero.

“Not in the way you’re imagining.” He hooked his free hand under her chin, gently closing her agape mouth. His tone was soft and reassuring,“ I’ve been meaning to find a backstreet surgeon to stitch me up. Comes in handy for a guy like me. I’m sure you understand angel.”

“B-but why me ?”Y/N stuttered, avoiding eye contact as her nerves threatened to overwhelm her. She could feel a chill of nervousness and panic creep up her spine. What if he got angry if she refused ? Jason noticed the change in the air around her and the stiffening of her muscles in panic that she was clearly trying to hide from him.

“Because you’re convenient. Your place is easy to get in and out of undetected, you’re talented and most of all —“ He gently lifted her chin to meet his gaze. Y/N let out a shuddered breath as Red Hood stroked her cheek with the back of his gloved hand. “— you fear me enough to not go around squeaking to the wrong people about me. No ?” Jason couldn’t help but relish in the reaction he elicited to the feeling of the leather gliding against her cheek in a silken featherlight touch. How adorable.

Y/N swallowed nervously before nodding slowly. A beat of silence passed and she let out a small sigh, recollecting herself and weighing her options. “How much are we talking ?” She asked him in a low voice. Jason could hardly contain his excitement, grinning wildly under his mask. A sense of pride washed over him as her first question after his offer focused on the financial aspect.

“Let’s see how about 2 grand a month ? Too less ? 3 grand ? 3.5 ? That enough ?”he suggested eagerly. Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief, almost bulging from their sockets. Without waiting for her response, he added, “Plus, there’ll be extra incentives when I’m feeling generous.”

“All that for some stitching ? There has to be a catch.” She reasoned. It seemed implausible that he would offer such a substantial sum for such a minor task. Jason chuckled," You’re smart. I like that in a woman. And to answer your question, it’s not just stitching. It’s about your discretion and loyalty. It’s a complete package. Plus that sort of money is pretty much pocket change to me.”

“And if I were to betray your trust ?” Y/N asked in a hypothetical sense, of course she had more sense than to betray someone of his stature and power. “Do you really want me to answer that ?” He countered sounding equal parts smug and menacing. Y/N shook her head in negation and continued stitching his wound. The process of stitching became a meditative rhythm - the needle piercing the skin, the pull of the thread, the knotting, and the slight twitch of Red Hood’s muscles with each stitch.

“I’ll take it.” She muttered. Jason was grateful for his mask and injury otherwise, he might have been unable to hide his urge to jump up and punch air in celebration. Agreeing to his proposition marked just the beginning of his grand plan for making Y/N his and for now, everything unfolded according to his wishes and he couldn’t be happier.

Y/N wrapped gauze around the wound and secured it with a metal clip. “Normally I’d suggest a few days’ rest but I have a feeling there’s no point in saying.” Red Hood commented with a shrug as he inspected the injury. Y/N rose and fetched him a glass of water from the kitchen, setting it on the table. “If you’re trying to get me to remove my helmet, it won’t work.” he remarked. As much as his distrust stung, Y/N rationalised that it was typical for someone like him.

She retrieved a scarf from the coat rack, folded it and tied it around her eyes before taking a seat on the edge of the couch, keeping a respectable distance from the masked vigilante. "What's with the blindfold angel ?" Red Hood asked, his tone tinged with amusement.

"Isn't trust earned through actions?" she responded. Y/N heard the thud of his helmet being placed on the table. Jason seemed genuinely impressed by her gesture. His gaze lingered on her figure as she remained motionless, noting how much she had changed since his childhood memory. Yet her kindness to those in need while still keeping herself guarded from those who would abuse it still remained unchanged. Jason’s hand twitched with the impulse to touch her. To hold her. He wondered how her face would look in his palms with her bare body melded against his own.

“ ‘Suppose it is.” Jason chuckled as he downed the glass of water and put his helmet back on. “I’m finished. You can remove that blindfold now, although it does look adorable on you.” He noticed her chest rise with a sudden hitch, and her cheeks flush red. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed, knowing the other implications blindfolds carried. As she removed the scarf and looked around, Red Hood had vanished without a trace. Her window was open and it was as if disappeared into the wind just as he came. She got why the bat vigilantes were often likened to cryptid beings and phantoms. Y/N was left to ponder over the events that had unfolded. Under the glass of water she offered him three hundred dollar bills were tucked. “I suppose I’m now working for the Prince of Gotham now.” Y/N mused to herself, realizing her attempt to avoid getting involved had failed miserably.

Jason's parents engaged in another round of screaming matches, this time he decided he’d had enough and thought of running away. Despite previous fleeting thoughts of escape, each time night fell — he faced the harsh reality of lacking sustenance and shelter. Convinced that the streets offered a marginally preferable refuge to the shithole he was force to call home, he wandered aimlessly till he found himself at the dumpster of a bakery. He knew shops like those threw away left overs even though they could’ve given them out — Jason saw it as a glaring manifestation of selfishness of adults.

He hid behind the dumpster and waited for someone to come and throw away the leftovers. After waiting for almost half an hour, the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Glancing cautiously from his hiding spot, Jason spotted a young waitress walking out. She was likely just a few years older than himself, a middle school or a high school student maybe, he thought to himself. As she approached to dispose of the food, she paused midway. No way did she see him ? Jason shrank back against a cardboard box, hoping she wouldn’t notice him.

“Hey kid you can come out. I already saw you.” the waitress said softly. Jason slowly crawled out and approached her. He eyed the tray of leftovers in her hand, wondering if he could snatch them and escape quickly enough ? The waitress seemed to notice this and raised the tray above his reach. “Against bakery policies kid. Where are your parents ?” She asked. Of course she wouldn't be generous enough to offer him any. In his mind, all adults were rotten to the core and selfish —why would she be any different ?

Jason scoffed,“ Does it matter ?” His statement was met with a sigh from the waitress, her expression conveying annoyance, a scene all too familiar to him. Bracing himself he said,“ Just do it already. I’ve had it from guys thrice your size.” Jason was well acquainted with the drill with diner employees — catch a few shoves and slaps, pretend to go away and wait for them to leave and then come back pick up the food.

He shut his eyes and waited for her to slap and swear at him to drive him away like everyone else. Yet moments passed but the expected blow never came. Instead, Jason felt a gentle pat on his head and looked up to see her smiling empathetically, though her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness. Wondering why she seemed so melancholic, he accepted the loaf of bread she offered and wolfed it down. “Won’t you get in trouble for this ?” He asked. With a forced laugh she admitted,“ I probably will but I can’t let a kid hungry now can I ?”

“I won’t tell anyone.” The young boy promised earnestly and she returned his smile. His gaze fell upon her nametag—Y/N L/N. Maybe not all adults are bad.

It had been barely four days since she last saw him that she heard from him again. In the dead of night, her doorbell rang. She approached the door cautiously and grabbed a baseball bat from the umbrella rack as a just in case. She didn’t hear any movement on the other side of the door so she cautiously opened the door, peering out. To her surprise, she found only a small, shoddily wrapped parcel resting on the floor with her name written in red.

There was no one except a small poorly wrapped parcel on floor with her name on it. Retrieving it, she carried it inside. Within the parcel lay a modest yet exquisite golden necklace accompanied by a handwritten instruction manual. Observing it she realised it was one of those necklaces that acted as an SOS signal. The parcel also contained a big folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, she discovered a map of Gotham City with specific locations ominously marked in red and the stark warning “DO NOT GO” emblazoned in bold letters. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtful gesture, maybe this is not all that bad.

Over the following days, Red Hood would appear unannounced giving Y/N enough jumpscares for lifetime, when she would walk into her living room and find him bleeding out on her couch. He wasn’t much of a talker which wasn’t a surprise.

His injuries presented a variety of shapes and sizes each time he visited, but recently, his injuries bore uncanny resemblance the markings of knife wounds. Some were superficial, while others cut deeper. However, considering the depth, placement, and angles, Y/N questioned whether they were the result of his typical fights. "Are you testing my loyalty? Seeing if I'll betray you?" Y/N clenched her teeth with silvers of anger and frustration glinting in her eyes. Red Hood appeared slightly taken aback but remained silent in response to her outburst. "Do you really think I wouldn't notice ? Either that certain type of knife has become Gotham’s thugs number one choice or you're doing this to yourself. Why ?" She pressed further.

“ I knew I shouldn’t have made it so obvious.”Jason wasn’t accustomed to others fussing over his safety. Typically he received, at most a pat on the back from those who worked alongside him, knowing he had endured much worse and could handle it. Her anger and frustration hinted at concern, echoing the tone when he would go and pick fights with boys twice his size.

“What’s that supposed to mean ?”

Red Hood let out a sigh and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “Listen, I enjoy spending time with you and I wouldn’t bother coming unless I needed medical attention. So you know —"

“— So you cut yourself ? To hang out with me ? What’s wrong with you ? What if you actually got into a fight with those injuries ? What if you got hurt for real ? You could really get hurt. How could you do that to yourself ? ”

Jason lowered his head in remorse, realizing he hadn't fully considered his actions. Despite understanding her perspective and acknowledging the wrong in purposefully hurting himself for her attention, he couldn't deny a secret sense of satisfaction. "I’m so sorry," he muttered his apology, genuinely meaning every word. Y/N released an exasperated sigh and took a moment to compose herself before speaking again. "Next time, just ask. It's not that complicated."

Jason's head lifted with hopeful curiosity, resembling a puppy eager for a treat. " I can do that ?" he asked tentatively, unsure if her words were genuine. Jason blinks, and then smiles. Her words cause something to stir within him, a sensation of warmth and affection he hasn't felt in a while. Y/N nodded and got up to dispose of the bloody cotton swabs in the kitchen. Jason’s eyes followed her eyes, watching closely and to see if she was still mad at him. Y/N was a pretty forgiving person but in all honesty, he did mess up pretty bad. She returned and settled back down with a sigh, causing a slight nervous flutter in Jason. “So what do vigilantes when they’re not fighting bad guys ?” Y/N initiated as an icebreaker, much to Jason’s relief. It’s not like he could say ‘hey I’m in love with you please hang out with me with marriage in mind’. Wait marriage ? Where did that come from ? Images of Y/N in a white gown walking down an isle flashed through his mind. Y/N Todd. That had a nice ring to it, Jason mused silently. He had heard that Bali was a popular honeymoon destination but Y/N once told him that she always wanted to see the stargazing so the Atacama desert isn’t a bad destination either.

“Um earth to Red. You still here ?” Y/N waved her hand in front of Jason who seemed to have spaced out.

“Red ?”Jason asked sounding positively amused by the unexpected nickname. She shrugged and replied,“ Calling you Red Hood seemed too long, so Red it is. Not very creative, I know.”

Jason chuckled,“ I’ll allow it. And to answer your question, vigilantes don't have much time for leisure. When we're not fighting, we’re either training or passed the fuck out from exhaustion.” Y/N felt tired just hearing that, understanding the reasoning behind it, but the question remained: he wasn’t wasting time by being here, was he ?

“Seems like there’s no room for hobbies?” Y/N quipped, eliciting another soft laugh from Jason as he visibly relaxed. "I suppose so but pros can squeeze in time for special things here and there." he replied, his voice still quiet but now tinged with a smile. His body language seemed brighter and happier, and for the first time since she saw him actually looking relaxed.

Y/N reached for the TV remote, flipping through channels before tossing it onto his lap and standing up. “I’m going to fix myself something. Do you want anything?” she asked politely. Jason shook his head, declining, “I’m good.” Y/N walked to the kitchen and started making herself popcorn. What sort of movies and tv shows would vigilantes enjoy ? She guessed they might lean towards crime-related or action-packed content, but then remembered her friends’ complaints about the inaccuracy of such portrayals.

“Seriously Janet ?! There’s no way you’re picking that dress. Just cuz it would look good on Jessica doesn’t mean it would suit you ! I can hear the wails of the colour theory all the way from here.” Jason shook his head, sounding genuinely disappointed. He probably didn’t even notice Y/N shuffling closer to the television, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. So I guess that answers my question.

“That’s an interesting choice.”

Jason rolled his eyes and diverted his attention back to the television again. “What ? Can’t a man enjoy some good entertainment ?” He retorted. Y/N laughed lightly dismissing his remark,” No no it’s not that. Personally I’m more of a k-drama and anime girlie but I hold nothing against reality tv.” He nodded in acknowledgment of her preferences and resumed watching. Sitting beside him, Y/N observed as he commented on almost everything the people on TV said, finding herself amused by how much more entertaining his live commentary was compared to the actual show.

Minutes rolled by and after almost a couple hours, Y/N got up to go use the washroom and when she returned he had vanished once again, as was his habit. A small note lay where he had sat on her couch earlier. She picked it up and read, “Had a great time. Thanks for today - R” Y/N chuckled and shook her head, Damn these bats and their theatrics.

Jason would show up every three four days, most of the time unharmed thankfully. The two would do a variety of things like watching movies and tv shows together, playing board games and video games and just talking in general. At first it was just discussing their common interests but eventually he would sporadically divulged minor, unimportant details about himself. Some things she was able to piece together were that one, the bat vigilantes was a dysfunctional family with Batman as their patriarch. Second, the Red Hood worked alongside Starfire and Arsenal as his teammates. And third, that he had to be the biggest classic literature nerd she had come across.

“What do you mean your best friend tried to set you on fire while you were taking a shower ?! Didn’t you like lock the door or something ?”

“Locked doors don’t really do much to people like us angel.”

“So who’s your favourite bat sibling ?” Jason fell silent at her question, contemplating the answer. “Well that’s a tough question. I have my set of challenges and grudges with all of them. We’ve tried to kill each other atleast once. More so with my brothers than the girls. I’d say I get along pretty well with spoiler and batgirl. And if you ask about my brothers, I’d say Nightwing. He’s the funny nice one, Red Robin’s the smart, loyal one and Robin is the little obnoxious one.”

Y/N chuckled,“ Guess the article checks out.”

“What article ?” Jason asked curiously. Most of his intel came from law enforcement agencies databases, informants, surveillance technology, his fellow vigilantes and his own investigative work so he didn’t really feel the need to keep up with the cheesy articles in Gazette.

“The cinnamon roll tier list !” Y/N’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

“The what now ?”

“So there’s this popular meme going online,”she started to explain,“ so there are four categories - first, looks like a cinnamon roll, is a cinnamon roll. In that category are the signal, the spoiler and nightwing. Second, looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you. That one is for Red Robin and the Robin. Third, looks like could kill you but is a cinnamon roll, that one is for Batgirl and the last is -” she paused because she knew the next tier on the list might potentially sting him.

“Looks like could kill you and would kill you ? Let me guess that’s one for me ?” Jason chuckled humorlessly, fully aware of the kind of reputation that preceded him. He wondered if she held the same perception of him. Y/N remained silent, neither confirming nor denying his statement.

"You know, you don't need to constantly worry about offending me. Believe me, I've heard far worse than anything your pretty mouth could say to me." Y/N couldn't help but feel upset, while his words were true, there was more to it than that. She wanted to express that she wasn't entirely afraid of him, but that wasn't entirely true either.

“Anyways – ”She interjected, clapping her hands once to shift the flow of the conversation,“ I got a new video game from a friend. Let me go get it. DO NOT DISAPPEAR. I’m serious it’s creepy.” Jason responded with her a cheeky salute,“ Yes ma’am.” Y/N disappeared into the bedroom briefly and returned with the DVD. When she came back she noticed Jason had reclined on the couch, appearing to have dozed off.

“Red ?” she asked softly, approaching him. She tried to get his attention again, but he remained unresponsive. He must’ve fallen asleep, she figured remembering what he said about his schedule. Retrieving a blanket from the side of the couch, she gently covered him. She sat there for a while, observing him as he slept. Watching him like this felt natural and familiar. Leaning back on the couch herself, she tried to unwind in the peaceful silence. Y/N couldn't help but admire him and all that he had achieved. Finding a friend in such an extraordinary circumstance was something she had never anticipated.

After a while, a somewhat wicked notion crept into her mind. She tried to shush the voice. Hanging out with Stephanie was sure working its magic, she thought to herself. It was a harmless little prank really, surely he wouldn’t mind. Against all logic and rationale, she decided entertained the idea. Tiptoeing to her closet, she retrieved the item from her closet and cautiously returned, double-checking if he was asleep. Here goes nothing.

#dc #batboys #batman #jason todd #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood smut #dc smut #batfam #yandere jason todd #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #dc comics

593 notes · View notes

nrvcntr · 4 months

Text

My Lover is Like

hey remember how i said i'd write that fic about tav coming from a noble background and having a riddle that someone has to answer to date her and no one ever gets it right and then years later she tells gale and he knows immediately? anyway here it is

There are certain scents that bring back memories - warm grass on a summer’s day, fresh linens placed on a bed, and of course, the sickly sticky burn of a bottle of plum fizz, shared among friends. Astarion recoiled after he sniffed the open bottle, his nose scrunched in horror.

“You can’t be serious,” He said.

“You’re being dramatic. It isn’t that bad,” You replied.

You had found a crate full of bottles on your last trek and dragged it back to the campsite, anticipating a heroic welcome at your generous haul. It was nearing sunset and it seemed as good of a time as any to see what the contents of the crate were. Upon cracking the crate open, your eyes lit up at the sight of bottles on bottles of plum fizz. This had been the drink that defined your adolescence as a noble in Baldur’s Gate. It immediately brought back memories of revelry, singing songs next to bonfires, and a young Wyll Ravengard throwing up in the street. You pulled out a bottle and handed it to Astarion, who had reacted like a man who never knew the joys of noble debauchery.

“It smells like it could raise something from the dead and then kill it again,” He said, handing the bottle back to you.

“Look, we used to drink this all the time when we were kids. It’s like a rite of passage among children of nobility in Baldur’s Gate.”

Wyll, overhearing the conversation, came over to see what you were so impassioned about. At the sight of the bottle in your hand, he recoiled like someone had just smacked him upside the head.

“No. Get that thing away!” He shouted, shaking his hands.

“Oh, stop it. I remember you used to beg to play fizzy hands when we were younger,” You said.

“Fizzy hands.” Astarion said flatly, “What sort of braindead activity is fizzy hands?”

You raised your brow to Wyll, who explained that “fizzy hands” was the beloved drinking game of your youth, where a small magical seal was applied to two bottles of plum fizz, which an individual would hold. The seal wouldn’t break until both bottles were consumed.

“Fizzy hands leads to fizzy guts, which leads to…a fizzy mess, in the street. You couldn’t pay me to take a sip of that now.” Wyll said.

You looked around the campsite and gestured to Gale, who had been beginning the preparations for dinner so intently that he hadn’t noticed the failing case you were trying to make in favor of plum fizz.

“It’s nice to know that your taste in wine is nearly as bad as your taste in men,” Astarion mused, causing you to shoot him a farcefully menacing look. Your affections for Gale were no secret, and the two of you had shared an intimate moment in the Weave, but you were unsure of your current status, or even whether he really returned your feelings. You had begun to write it off as a passing fancy, something to daydream about during long days of traveling. Though, there was no hiding how much you enjoyed being around the man, your conversations often dragging well into the night after everyone else had fallen asleep. You had never met anyone else who seemed to understand you the way that Gale did, or whose company you enjoyed nearly half as much.

“You’re a man of taste, and you’re knowledgeable about wine. Can you settle a debate for us?” You asked Gale when he walked over.

“A glass of wine sounds delightful this evening. What’s the topic of debate?” He asked.

“Astarion and Wyll may not be as cultured as you and I. Just tell them about the fine properties of this blend,” You said, trying to communicate ‘please, say this tastes good’ in your expression as you poured a glass and handed it over.

Gale swirled the glass and his eyes widened at the scent. To his credit, he took an honest sip and racked his brain for something kind to say about it. “It has notes of…berry. And cinnamon. And…” He couldn’t do it. “Acid. It tastes like it would eat a hole through a table if you spilled some on it. Do the youth of Baldur’s Gate really ingest this willingly?” He asked.

You threw your hands up.

“Poor taste, the lot of you. It cannot be helped.”

After dinner, Astarion sauntered over to you, two glasses of plum fizz in hand.

“A drink together. Sort of a truce,” He said.

You were suspicious, but took the glass in hand. The spicy, bitter, sweet, and confusing concoction ran down your throat and made your stomach feel hot. Astarion’s glass was already empty, and he poured you both another. By the time you realized that Astarion had been pouring his drinks out to get you to continue drinking, you were drunk enough to begin telling stories of your youth in Baldur’s Gate.

“So, after Wyll threw up in the street -”

“Can you please stop talking about that. I have plenty of embarrassing stories I could tell at your expense, you know. Lock.” Wyll said pointedly.

“Lock?” Shadowheart asked.

You covered your face, feeling a burning sensation creep up your cheeks.

“What none of you realize is that our beloved companion here was once the most eligible bachelorette in Baldur’s Gate nobility. Her family was wealthy and she was beautiful, intelligent, and charming…”

“Whatever happened?” You asked, making yourself laugh.

“However, she never took a partner. Singles of all creeds, genders, and races tried, but no one could get through to her. So, she began to be known as ‘the lock of Baldur’s Gate’. And, what opens a lock but a key? And the key to her heart was to answer a riddle,” Wyll explained with a dramatic flourish.

“A riddle? How droll. That’s a little…presumptuous, don’t you think?” Astarion asked. You shrugged.

“Why a riddle?” Karlach asked.

“I didn’t want to end up with someone who was a complete dunce,” You joked. It was a half-truth, since the whole truth would have disrupted the mood of revelry among your companions.

“Well, do we get to hear it?” Shadowheart asked.

You leaned back and looked at the faces of your companions. Wyll shook his head, having heard this question lamented among the singles of Baldur’s Gate throughout his youth.

“What is loving Taglath like?” You asked, the question rolling off of your tongue like a well-rehearsed line.

“What a stupid question!” Astarion huffed, rolling his eyes. He had no idea what the answer could be.

“Oh, do you know the answer, then? Since it’s so stupid,” You said, unable to wipe the smirk off of your face. It always delighted you to stump someone with the riddle, and it delighted you even more to watch them struggle with it.

“What is loving like?” You repeated, prodding Astarion for the answer.

“Darling, loving you is like poison seeping through my veins,” Astarion said, pretending to be a romantic poet, his hand gripping his chest, “- and it kills me to be parted from you,” He added, taking your hand in his icy cold grasp.

“Very sweet, but no,” You responded.

Everyone laughed, getting a little chuckle out of Astarion’s foolishness.

“Oh come on, it’s not like any of you geniuses know the answer,” Astarion said, raising a brow to the group. He looked around at their curious faces and wonders aloud, “Do you?”

“Uh, I don’t remember my childhood. Much less silly poems,” Shadowheart said, but thought about it for a moment. “Is it like a rose? Something beautiful out of the dirt?”

You shook your head.

“Chk. This is a waste of time,” Lae’zel said..

“C’mon, Lae’zel, what do you think loving is like?” Wyll probed, the githyanki rolling her eyes at him.

Lae’zel replied, “Like a well-won battle, your enemies dead at your feet.” There is a pause before she asked, “Did I answer correctly?”

“No,” You replied.

Karlach wiped her hands on her pants, not waiting to be asked. “You’re barking up the wrong tree if you ask me, solider,” She said, “But I’ll give it a try. Is it like a cool drink of water on a hot night?”

“That’s sweet, Karlach. It’s own little poem, even. But no,” You said.

“Well what’s the answer?” Astarion huffed, getting frustrated at this little display of ignorance.

“Salamander!” Wyll interjected, snapping his fingers like he cracked the code. This made everyone crack up, to his dismay. “No, because - I mean, uh - well, it’s better than corpses!” He insisted. This only made everyone laugh more.

In this revelry, no one even thought to glance at Gale, who had been watching the scene with a bemused little smile on his face.

There was a lull when the laughter died down, the silence of everyone taking a breath after a hearty laugh.

Through the silence, two words cut through the air like a knife directly to your heart.

“The Sun.”

You gasped (a reaction that, in retrospect, embarrassed you with how dramatic it was). You stared at the speaker, Gale’s dark eyes glinting in the firelight. You felt you must have looked ridiculous, your jaw agape.

In all of the years of telling the riddle, no one had ever known the answer. The key to your heart, you joked. But it had been more serious than you ever let on. As each suitor fumbled through wrong answers, it had only solidified your belief that true love would never be yours. That you would eventually have to settle for someone who couldn’t really understand you.

It was like time stopped, the visions of your companions becoming a blur as Gale came into focus.

Gale, meanwhile, appeared to be blissfully unaware that he had just broken your brain (what was left of it, at least).

“That’s…right. How did you know?” You choked out, hardly above a whisper.

“It’s a very clever riddle. See, most would probably assume that the riddle is about the works of Taglath, whom is renowned as an iconic romantic poet. His works adorn his lover with brilliant metaphors that have captured readers since their inception,” Gale explained to the group, lecturing his never-be students.

“That’s probably why Gef Deldus spent one summer immersed in Taglath’s works,” Wyll recalled, chuckling, “He told everyone that he had solved the riddle. He was convinced you would be his bride by the end of the season. What was his answer?” He asked.

“Love is like a poem,” You replied, still dumbfounded by Gale’s answer.

“The education in Baldur’s Gate leaves much to be desired,” Gale snarked, then continued, “What most people don’t know is that Taglath’s most prominent muse was another poet named Alanis. Unfortunately, most of her work has been lost to history. Almost no complete works remain, and only fragments have been collected for publication. But in her most complete work, she compares her lover to the Sun. It’s a gorgeous poem about loving someone who burns brightly and the fears associated with taking a lover of prominence. Loving despite fear,” He said.

You wondered how it was possible that your body felt like it was on fire but also like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on you. Did none of your companions notice that you were going insane? The realization rocked you like an earthquake.

Gale Dekarios was not a passing fancy, someone to think about kissing when the option presented itself. He was neither a daydream nor a wet dream to pass the time at different hours. He was not the greatest friend you had ever had, the person who you most looked forward to speaking to each morning after you woke and each night before you went to bed. The person who you spoke about nothing and everything with, played games with, or just enjoyed a comfortable silence with. He was not your traveling companion, nor even an ally who had risked his life for you as you had done for him. It was impossible for Gale to be any one of those things because he was all of them all at once and so much more.

Oh, fuck, you realized, your knees ready to give way.

You were in love with him.

The sound of your companions laughing and chattering together mixed together and sounded like ocean waves. If anyone turned to ask you anything you probably would have just stared at them blankly. You attempted to take a step toward Gale and the drinks you had earlier in the night went to your head, sending you tumbling forward and onto the ground.

“Looks like the plum fizz kicked in. ‘Key’, maybe you should take the ‘lock’ to bed,” Shadowheart said to Gale.

You thought that if you closed your eyes, maybe the ground would swallow you up and you would never have to look at Gale again. Instead, you felt him help you to your feet, allowing you to lean against him as he walked you to your tent. You were desperate to know what was going through his mind - did he realize the gravity that he answer had?

“Easy now,” Gale said, helping you down onto your bedroll. He treated you gently, helping you to unlace your boots and get settled in under the blanket. You were sick to your stomach at being doted on by him and kept quiet, trying to focus on anything but the way he looked at you. He left for a moment and came back to bring you some water.

“Is there anything you need?” He asked.

You were quiet for a moment, then spoke.

“Gale?”

“Yes?”

“After we had that moment in the Weave…you mentioned that we shouldn’t talk about it then, with the orb being unstable and everything going on,” You said, then allowed yourself to lean into your own intoxication, asking what was truly on your mind. “Was that really the reason? Because if you don’t see me that way, you can tell me. It won’t hurt my feelings.” The words poured out of you too quickly for you to worry about sounding insecure. It was a lie, of course, that it wouldn’t hurt your feelings. Being rejected by Gale would be devastating.

Gale looked thoughtful, then recited the end of Alanis’s fragments of her poem about her lover.

“My lover is like the Sun, Brilliant and bright He eclipses me And yet I yearn

My lover is like the Sun Blinding and unyielding When he touches me I burn”

He placed his hand on your cheek, his gaze looking through you and into your soul. The two of you could say so much without a single word.

“Am I the Sun, or are you?” You asked.

Gale had loved the poem when he read it as a boy, and later thought of it often when he was with Mystra, trying to make sense of the reality of having a goddess for a lover. He had often wondered if he would ever have an identity outside of being Mystra’s chosen, or whether he would forever be tied to the Goddess. And if that was the case, why did the idea of it make him burn with jealousy?

However, the poem had taken on new meaning since he met you. He felt like the Sun, a ball of fire ready to explode in his chest at any moment. As badly as he wanted to hold you close, he knew that doing so would destroy you. Still, he wondered, might it be worth it to burn if he could have one moment of knowing what it was like to be yours entirely?

Or rather, were you the Sun? He was certainly transfixed by you, drawn to your brilliance. You, a mortal who dared to be more brilliant and enticing than his Goddess. Would following you lead him down the path to certain doom - or worse, would getting close to you lead you to your own demise? It was that thought that kept him up at night, wondering if he should escape in the night. To save you from himself, or at least get you as far away from the danger as possible.

Gale contemplated your question.

“I’m not sure,” He finally replied.

“I don’t know, either.”

You placed your hand on Gale’s, your gaze fixed on each other, searching for an answer in each other’s eyes. Neither of you could find it.

However, there was one thing that was clear to both of you: whether through flames of salvation or damnation, you would burn for each other.

#gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale x reader #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #bg3 gale #bg3 brainrot #gale brainrot

489 notes · View notes

always-andromeda · 2 months

Text

𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Joel Miller x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 1182

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ Once upon a time, Joel Miller was the love of your life. Life, however, got in the way.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ I got to write this piece for @beskarandblasters's Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge. This song is one of my favorites off of Folklore and so I was immediately inspired by the prompt!! I highly recommend taking a look at the rest of the challenge masterlist too and sending the other creators on there some love!! Gorgeous divider by @saradika-graphics!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ smut (minors, do not interact), nipple play, fingering, pet names, reader has no physical description aside from being afab and able-bodied, spans from pre-outbreak to post-outbreak, mentions of guns, bits and pieces of angst, let me know if I need to add anything else!

Your youth was defined by Joel Miller. All of those delicate parts of yourself that you pretended not to see…he stared straight into the eye of the storm and protected the fragility within it. The most important thing about Joel: he was patient. To an almost frustrating degree.

He taught you how to drive with the stick shift in his beat up pickup truck. Afterwards, he showed you how to kiss properly. His hand cupping the back of your neck, he gazed at you through his lashes and asked if it was okay to kiss you. His voice smooth like molasses, you had no choice but to nod before immediately pressing your lips to his.

Even back then, Joel was a working man. His hands were rough with calluses, his mouth was filthy, and he put them both to good use. As he laid you across the bench seat of his truck, somewhere deep in your belly, you believed you could trust him.

You supposed it was exciting for him, showing you how things were done. How a man could really use his hands to tell a woman exactly how he felt. The best Joel’s words could do came in the form of his sweet pet names.

Darlin’. Pretty girl. Baby. Honey.

Each of them wrapped up in his velvety tone and delivered specially for you. Sure, he spoiled you, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

On your twenty-first birthday, he was there for your first drink. He slowly nursed his beer, making sure to keep a level head as you danced around the bar. No matter how hard you attempted to throw yourself at him, he kept his hands to himself. And as soon as you started to get sleepy he drove you home and tucked you in before passing out on your living room couch.

The morning after he was teaching you even more. How to handle a hangover. How Joel sounded rasping, “Happy birthday, honey,” against the column of your throat. How to come with just his hands on your tits.

The trick was a nice, slow buildup. He’d pinch and pull at a nipple before leaning down to press kisses to it. You’d gasp as his teeth grazed your skin ever so slightly and a laugh would rumble through his own chest. Your cunt wept so badly it ached. Still, Joel refused to pay it any mind. Not until he had you whimpering and writhing beneath him.

Even as he was breaking your heart, it was slow; it was painful.

When he told you that he’d gotten another girl pregnant, you almost didn’t believe it. Sure he teased you, but this was a step too far. That was the first time you caught him deliberately averting your gaze. The second you detected that shame, you wanted to scream at him.

You’d never known him to be shy around other girls. But you’d also never known him to be so careless. That pristine picture you had of him was gone in an instant.

The second it was said, you retreated. Or you were discarded. You’d never been able to remember who was the last one to call the other only to be met with an answering machine. You suppose it didn’t really matter anymore.

Years passed and soon those memories turned into mementoes of an entirely different world overnight.

There have been many lovers since then; none as kind as he had been once upon a time. Then again, if Joel was still alive, he was most likely just as rough around the edges as any of the men you’d been with. In fact, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of him once since those days. You felt his calluses on every man’s hands, his thick fingers filling you, his stubble prickling your neck. Those men taught you many new things. The first being that patience wasn’t owed to anyone in a world where you could wake up dead. The second? Perhaps you didn’t want patience anymore.

After all, what had patience ever given you? When the world fell apart you got fuck all from simply waiting around for something to happen. You’d rather be torn apart by a clicker than get herded into a QZ where you’d scrounge for rations.

The first chance you got, you claimed a spot in a nomadic group. You did what you had to in order to prove your worth. The first time you shot a gun, as the smell of gunpowder filled your nostrils, you thought of Joel again. Tried to imagine him at your shoulder, chuckling and then muttering under his breath, “Dadgum, girl. Not bad.”

Every single time you managed to take out one of those infected, you heard that smooth voice of his. It was equal parts frustrating and…comforting. Frustrating in that he had managed to linger this long. But also frustrating in the sense that that version of him no longer existed, if it ever did to begin with. It was like you’d never really left behind him, his honeyed words, his skilled hands, or his goddamn pickup. Joel Miller just…had a way of hanging over you.

Jackson was a welcome reprieve from that cloud of grief. You were stubborn to the charms of that commune. You’d trusted more promising things before and been burned.

Those years really flew by. Old wounds finally began to close. With each passing kindness, it became easier to live again. For once home felt like a place you could tangibly hold instead of some far off fantasy.

You were so content that by the time Tommy showed up one spring, you only saw it as a blessing. He was alive, goddamnit. It didn’t matter that his dark eyes were damn near the same shade as his brother’s. And it didn’t matter that the twang of Texas still lingered on his tongue. You simply told yourself what you’d been telling yourself for years.

Joel was just a man. A man who thought that because you were young, he had some sort of claim over your heart. His heart had never belonged to you. More importantly, yours hadn’t belonged to him. He made his mark and you’d paid your dues in heartache. That was all.

Which is why it felt all the more haunting when he showed up on your porch.

A little over three decades later and Joel’s right there in the flesh. Even with the town buzzing about his arrival, you suppressed any notion that he’d pay you a visit. But now he steps forward into the porch light and through the fog of his breath in the cold air, you catch how much he’s changed. He’s almost nothing like you remember. Silver dappled stubble, pursed lips, forehead wrinkling as he furrows his brow.

The expression falls as soon as he sees you. The crinkles by his eyes relax as his gaze softens. Just like it used to so long ago.

Yet you swear he hasn’t changed a lick when he finally speaks.

“Hey there, darlin’.”

#˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfic #the last of us hbo fanfic

171 notes · View notes

thepinkscope · 1 year

Text

PICK A CARD - 10 things you should do to become the person you want to be in 2023.

PILE 1 //

You can explore your sensual energy.

Remimance on your pain in order to understand how much you have grown.

Enjoy your own star power (writing, singing etc.)

Moses Sumney has a song that says "Think about who gave them their definitions and rewrite those definitions for themselves". Sometimes what you think of yourself comes from someone else's wrong opinion of you - do the work to define you.

Learn more languages, interact with people from different cultures etc. (Make sure you're engaging with people outside of your bubble.

Be more direct, especially with your romantic interests and partners. I see more of "do you want this to be something more?", "how do you feel about me?"

FLIRT (check my flirting PAC on my master list).

Budget in such a way that you have some extra savings that will go toward life's pleasures; get that bag you want, go on a trip etc.

Say NO more - stand your ground and speak up for yourself. Your inner child deserves it. You deserve it.

Attend more live shows and concerts.

PILE 2 //

Take care of building your finances, school or work career - a major focus of the year.

Trust in your own feelings and instincts about other people instead of going with whatever people have to say.

Identify the bad habits you may have, compassionately release them and practice a new helpful habit.

You might struggle with your emotions, and to help you stabilize them, you need some tools. Whether that's having emergency affirmations, meditation, eft tapping, sleeping etc.

A lot of you are transitioning from youth into adulthood and I'm seeing that you need to focus on pushing yourself into the adult role. It'll help you with your responsibilities and socially.

Remain hopeful in love but take care of your feelings.

Instead of asking people for advice and validation, try to tap into your own inner power for the answers.

Prompt more conversations with other people. Get to know other people more. Be more curious - it's good for your own social growth.

Very specific but you may carry spiritual/religious trauma, release the resentment - PLEASE. It gets in the way of how you perceive yourself.

Give yourself credit often. Celebrate your wins. Don't just let life pass you by.

PILE 3 //

You're doing so well. Make some room for some fun - blast music, dance more etc.

You've been alone for too long - you need a kiss or two. Make the effort to date or manifest more romantic opportunities. You deserve it.

Shake off regrets and move forward owning your life and your power. This is your life.

Put more effort into your body and health. Walk more, yoga, weights etc,

Your doubts and fears are just a shadow of your old self. Do everything to maintain the new you. The ideal version of yourself. Stop falling for that trap.

Avoid your ex relationships (family or friendships) and if you can't, take care of yourself as you interact with them. It might set you back a lot. If you're with someone new (romantically or not), do not compare them to those ex relationships.

Doors are opening. Walk through them all.

This needs to be emphasized, you keep replaying bad memories with people from your past, please do the work to overcome this. Let it go. Cut those cords. It keeps you stagnant.

Latto says "Money talks and I speak fluent". Heal your relationship with money. Make space for more money.

Increase your productivity and do the projects, goals etc. you've always had in mind.

#pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a card #free tarot reading #tarot reading #tarot readers #hello 2023 #empowerment #desire #affirmations #meditation #finances #fs reading #free intuitive readings

2K notes · View notes

verysium · 6 months

Note

blu lock top artists on Spotify??? i need your thoughts on it

anon you had me pulling up my spotify playlists and browsing through the entirety of genius.com for three hours straight. i'm going to tweak this prompt a little bit and include specific songs that best represent them since it's easier for me to explain that way.

RIN

the fanon answer for this is chase atlantic. while their songs do encapsulate parts of his personality (mostly the edgy teenager and disillusioned youth persona), i feel like this choice does not do his full character justice.

the canon answer for this is king gnu, more specifically the song "prayer x." i can picture this since rin seems like the type to enjoy alternative rock/indie, but the fact that it's the ending theme to banana fish is what gets to me. like...do you see yourself in ash or something? i hope you don't cus it doesn't end well. that anime had me bawling my eyes out for months, and i still can't think about it without breaking down again.

furthermore, the lyrics and music video to this song are very cryptic and borderline nihilistic. for example, "hiding behind this nonchalant smile" and "my life's spark will wink out of existence." i feel like this speaks volumes about rin's mental health and internal thought process. he obviously does not process his emotions normally and instead represses them. he also struggles with the idea of finding a purpose in what is otherwise a cyclical routine with no end. he's worried and, quite frankly, afraid that if he ever stops pursuing his dream, everything will come crumbling down, and he will have to face all the demons he's avoided for so long. the main theme here is that he cannot face his reality (the fact that sae's dream is not his own.) so he does everything in order to escape this fact even if it ultimately destroys him.

from my own playlists, i'd assign him the following songs/artists:

"beautiful boy" by john lennon

this is a love letter to baby rin. i feel like he would've enjoyed this song as either a lullaby or something he listened to on car rides to the beach during summer vacations. he probably still listens to this when it's raining outside or he's had a bad day. reminds him of his childhood and the good parts of it.

"the love club" by lorde

this is something pre-teen rin listened to. the irony is spot-on, and i feel like the lyrics would be relevant during a time when he was going through his rebellious phase and fully fleshing out his place in society. in this instance, the club would metaphorically be wherever his brother is at, whether that's the guys sae meets in spain or the group of football players considered "top-notch" in japan. everything is about finding a place in this club/clique in an effort to become free and differentiate himself from others. the only problem is that rin ironically loses his freedom because he tries so hard to be among the best. he signs his life away in pursuit of a dream, and it's something that now defines him.

"the only problem i got with the club / is how you're severed from the people / who watched you grow up"

this lyric in particular could apply to either one of the itoshi brothers. it's one of the caveats that comes with fame. you gain everything, but you lose everything before that. both of the itoshis likely experienced some amount of separation from their loved ones, including each other. also lorde's vocals are beautiful as always, so there's no reason not to include this song.

"howlin' 404" by DEAN

the production for this song is on point. the intro has a segment from a 1930s american horror radio program which is fitting because rin canonically watches horror movies. i think this song is something rin might listen to during cold autumns or midnights when he just can't sleep.

lyrically, there is the motif of a time loop which is also present in "prayer x." rin's character itself just has this connection with the raw grittiness of existentialism and this idea of repeating days without purpose. (in fact, he would make a great psychological thriller lead.) rin is also a control freak. if he lets one loose end go, it will unravel the entire thing. that matches up with the idea of "killing me softly." rin would rather prolong his pain than have it ripped from him all at once and leave him with nothing. i find this in a lot of people in real life too. even if your trauma wasn't good for you, it sometimes becomes the only thing you truly own. it's like that one quote from bojack horseman. "if i don't, that means that all the damage i got isn't good damage, it's just damage." rin feels like he has something to prove, and if he fails, all his suffering would've been for nothing.

"moonchild" by RM

i may be a bit biased since i love the mono mixtape, and i've written a rin fic about celestial bodies, but....this song just fits him. there's also a remarkable similarity with the lyrics of the previous songs i've listed. i'm just going to list a few:

"smiling in endless pain / you know / there's no freedom when you say freedom out loud"

one thing i love about RM is that he doesn't shy away from character flaws. he writes songs specifically for those who are always picked last, who aren't remarkable in any way, who feel weighed down by their normality. he gives them their spotlight and due diligence. for example, the entirety of the chorus is a repeat of "moonchild, you shine." i find this interesting since it's usually the sun that shines. but the sun is already sae, and rin is relegated to being the moon. yet even though the moon doesn't have its own light (it merely reflects the sun), it still shines bright in the darkness. rin doesn't know it yet, but he himself is a big role model for others such as isagi, his fans, and people just like him. so yeah....i'd take this song as a message of hope for future rin.

SAE

the fanon answer is lana del rey, and i would agree to a certain extent. under the right circumstances, he could become one of those dreamy, emotionally stunted, and tired men you guys all lust over. if y/n ever wrote a romantic song about him, it would be either "west coast" (for the spanish influences) or "art deco" (for the vibes.)

the headcanon answer is nothing. i don't think he listens to music much. even if he did, it would be probably classical/instrumental or just white noise for his long flights. i imagine him listening to erik satie's "gymnopédie no. 3" on a train ride or something.

from my own playlists, i'm going to give him these songs/artists:

"remind me" by röyksopp

i don't know how to explain this, but this song gives a bittersweet sense of nostalgia. think early 2000s when the TV footage was still grainy and had retro graphics. you're carrying around your mini mp3 player whilst wandering through the airport and wondering how the hell you even ended up there. that's the general ambience of this song.

lyrically, the song also matches well with sae. i'm going to give you a few examples:

"it's only been a week / the rush of being home in rapid fading"

again, this is a tribute to the disconnection sae feels from his home. he goes everywhere, but he belongs nowhere. when he finally returns to japan, he finds himself missing spain. when he's in madrid, he thinks about the ocean back in kamakura. there never is a place that truly fills that gaping hole in his chest. i also feel like sae experiences FOMO on a whole other level. he constantly feels like something is wrong/missing and he's not doing enough.

"brave men tell the truth / the wise man's tools are analogies and puzzles"

the idea here is that though sae is blunt with his words, he is a coward with his intentions/true feelings. he can brutally call out someone without hesitation, but to actually reveal his own truths and motives? he'd rather shrivel up in a hole and die. this is especially applicable to love. to him, a wise man is someone who doesn't open his heart up easily. instead, he hints at his feelings, and whether or not you can figure that out is on you. sae hates it when others play games with him. it's where his hypocrisy lies. he demands straightforward honesty from others, but he himself will unintentionally play games with you if it means he can hide himself behind his walls.

"a woman holds her tongue / knowing silence will speak for her"

this is the closest you guys are ever going to get to sae itoshi's ideal type. he loves people who don't need to say something for him to believe it. they just get it. your silence is automatically enough for him to know that you love him. similarly, you don't even need to speak a word to understand what he's feeling.

"night shift" by lucy dacus

this song is sae if he was that one ex-boyfriend who really fucked you up emotionally, and you never got over him even though you said you did. now that i think about it, the story could be told from either POV. this could be sae trying to erase you from his mind, or it could also be you post-breakup.

"you've got a 9 to 5 / so i'll take the night shift / and i'll never see you again / if i can help it"

i know this one lyric caused controversy all over tiktok, so i'm going to add my own interpretation. at face value, this is exactly what it says it is. sae doesn't want to see you again, nor do you. he's willing to go out of his way just to avoid you, and truthfully he would. when sae finds himself in trouble, he doesn't look for something new to fix him. instead, he cuts everything off and subtracts anything that is deadweight. if you're out of his life, then you're out of his life. he's not coming back for you (or at least that's what he says to convince himself). same thing with rin. he knows he hurt rin, but he's not going to go back and try to make it right. he's going to move on and try to justify his actions every step of the way. one day, rin will move on too, and then sae would have been right all along. (unfortunately, that is not the way things work, but that's a lesson for another time.)

the alternative interpretation is that y/n is the other woman. this could be literal as in sae already has someone else in his life, and he only sees you at night. you're only ever going to be the night shift. it could also be metaphorical as in you're merely a distraction in the grand scheme of things. you're the mistress, but football is his wife if that makes sense. his career will always take precedence.

"you get me so high" by the neighborhood

this song is all the words sae wished he said to rin but never did. it made me cry because everything would have been so different if they had just set aside their pride and truthfully sought each other out.

"hope you don't regret it / i pushed a lot back but i can't forget it"

repressing feelings seems to be a recurring issue with the itoshi brothers. like....maybe if i just push it out of sight, it will also go out of mind. and at its core, this all stems from fear. fear of facing the consequences, the hypotheticals, the terrifying realization that you did something you regret and there really is no turning back from it. but realistically, if you think about it, a lot of this is the byproduct of overthinking. sometimes the situation isn't as complicated as we might make it out to be. sometimes an apology doesn't fix everything, but it's a proposition to be something more, an attempt at a solution. but sae and rin are so blindsided by their own internal turmoil that they cannot see this.

"for a long time i took it all for granted / i really thought we had it / but at the time it was more than i could manage"

ah....the "taking for granted" part. i could ramble on about that for hours. i think it really is some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy that we never miss something until it's gone. and in a way, it's not something that we can always control. the value you assign to a person/object when you have it is going to be fundamentally different from the value you assign to it when it's no longer in your grasp. that's how scarcity works. something with a limited supply is always going to be worth more. the vice versa works as well. you might yearn after something but then throw it away the moment you finally have it and grow tired of it. this sort of dilemma that comes with appreciation is so common i really wouldn't blame the itoshi brothers for what they did. it is immensely difficult to know when you're going to lose something or when you need to let it go. and sometimes it's hard to be constantly grateful for what you have because many of us are wired to want something more. tbh that's what makes the itoshis relatable.

"if we can leave it all behind us / and meet in between"

now sae would never say this unless he himself had actually reflected on what happened and fully processed it. but maybe in the future, they could set aside their differences and reach out to each other. (this is how i cope)

"but i just had to let you know / i never meant to hurt you, though / i had all my motives / i didn't know they wouldn't mix with your emotions / i just had to reach my goals / never knew i'd meet you though"

that's the thing with personal ambition. sometimes you get so caught up in yourself, you forget all about others. and this isn't really selfishness, or at least intentional selfishness. it just sort of happened that way. you never meant to hurt them, but you still somehow did.

"we should stick together / you're my best friend / i'll love you forever"

yeah....this line was the one that did it for me. something about the dysfunctional sibling dynamic just eats away at my insides. like....i could've loved you, we could've been so much together, but why aren't we? what we have isn't hate, but it isn't the love i know and crave either.

"we could be the greatest / it doesn't matter if we're never rich or famous"

ok but if rin ever heard this leave sae's lips, i think all of his trauma would just be magically healed. he just wants his brother to see him. like fully see him and love him. but alas, what is blue lock without angst, am i right?

"love in the dark" by adele

now i don't think sae would ever listen to adele, but the lyrics are just too fitting. i was going to write a fic on this, but it's going to have to ferment a bit in the drafts for now. basically this is the entire rin/sae traumatic scene but as a melodramatic torch song with adele's heavenly vocals.

"take your eyes off of me so i can leave / i'm far too ashamed to do it with you watching me"

um...this is literally sae's internal monologue??? i feel like letting go of things is something both the itoshi brothers struggle with. their lives are constantly pulling them in different directions, and eventually they become numb to it all. they don't form any strong attachment to anything besides football because that's the one thing that won't change for them. in a way, this is necessary for their character development (in the sense that they need to discern for themselves what to keep and what to let go), but it also destroys any sense of belonging they might have (hence why they feel lonely.)

"don't try to change my mind / i'm being cruel to be kind"

sae would definitely say this. like word for word. if only he wasn't a vague dumbass with no communication skills.

"i can't love you in the dark / it feels like we're oceans apart"

this is literally their dynamic in one lyric. there is the physical distance, and then there's the emotional distance.

"we're not the only ones, / i don't regret a thing / every word i've said, / you know i'll always mean"

this sort of reminds me when sae said that the world is huge, and there's so many players way better than him out there. i think spain really gave him a reality check, and he grew angry at rin when rin couldn't understand his disillusionment.

"everything changed me / and i don't think you can save me"

adele sort of echoes this softly at the end of the song. i feel like sae would do that too. he wouldn't admit his own insecurities until the very end, and only then does the truth come out.

"i'll sleep when i'm older" by bruno major

this is sae when he's older and fully mature, preferably after he meets you. he finally decides to damn it all and do what he wants.

"conversations with elders and the wisdom they bring ... / the view from an aeroplane at twelve thousand feet"

sae views things that previously annoyed him in a new light. he used to hate his elders, but he visited you and your mother once, and something changed within him. now he calls his parents more often, and his eyes linger on the old couples near the park benches. sometimes, his gaze softens just a bit when he imagines the two of you growing old just like them.

flights used to be a mundane part of his routine, but now he finds himself leaning over your window seat to see the mountains down below. the clouds and sunny weather set him aglow. and you just look so pretty when you fall asleep on his shoulder. he doesn't ever want this change.

"meet god on a mountain top along with the stars / find love somewhere, anywhere / fall deep from the start"

sae used to avoid love, but now he's running at it full-force. people tend to shy away from making sae a romantic because it seems too ooc. however, in the right situation, i think sae could entirely abandon his previous ideals and become someone else entirely. (that's why it's called a character evolution guys.)

"misplace my mind and follow my heart"

again, if you're able to make sae lose all rationality and let his heart guide him instead, then you've really done something. kudos to you for penetrating the walls of the coldest asshole known to mankind.

"i'll be a firework, not a flickering flame / treat life all around me like a one-player game"

this one lyric applies both to younger and older sae. younger sae is someone unafraid of risking it all if it means he can achieve something worthwhile. it doesn't matter how many players he has to defeat, how many people he has to leave behind. in this world, it is just him and the goal he has to accomplish.

however, after he's mellowed out after a few years (i'd say around middle age), he probably reinterprets this as something else. he's not going to constrain himself to his tunnel vision anymore. there's so much more to life than that.

"i'll go to the party and forget all the names / should it climb back to haunt me, / it ends all the same"

sae finally lets himself live the life he never thought he'd have. he does stupid things like get drunk and make a fool of himself. but you're there for him, so he doesn't really care. in fact, he can finally say that for the first time in a long time....he's having fun.

KAISER

the fanon answer is the weeknd. i'm not going to lie, i completely agree with this one. i saw this one edit of him to "party monster," and i can say i have been fully enlightened and converted. however, this is not just about a toxic male manipulator anthem. it's much more than that.

this is about running away from the ugliest parts of yourself, becoming a slave to your vices, knowing you're broken somewhere and you can never fix it. i would say his character is most similar to "starboy" in the fact that he literally flaunts everything he has to hide the fact that deep down inside, he really has nothing else to hold onto. "starboy" is all about the status symbol (money, red lamborghinis, glass table girls turning into ebony table girls lol). but at the end of the day, he doesn't really have anything except an empty heart and a satirical quip for all those who made him famous. the same theme applies to "the morning" and "house of balloons."

in the romantic sense, i think "don't break my heart" would represent kaiser. and no, this is not a justification for him being an f-boy. it's more so an exploration of why people might think he is an f-boy. i do not condone his actions, but i do try to understand them. in particular, i feel like the lyrics of "sacrifice" also fit him well.

"i was born in a city / where the winter nights don't ever sleep / so this life's always with me / the ice inside my veins will never bleed"

i headcanon kaiser as being born in either berlin or munich. and if you don't know anything about those two places, just know that you freeze your ass off during wintertime. i think it's interesting how his past could be intrinsically tied with a place, and he takes a piece of his past self with him wherever he goes. the ice in veins part also made me think about how kaiser would rather freeze up every weakness within himself than let them run free and make him human.

"every time you try to fix me / i know you'll never find that missing piece"

guys...did you hear that? to all you delusional people out there, this is your service announcement. you cannot fix someone who does not want to be fixed. write that down and memorize it. all meaningful change starts with a shift in mindset, and if they themselves are not in the right headspace to recognize that something is wrong and actively want to change, you're not going to get anywhere. so yeah....kaiser is not going to change unless HE starts doing the changing.

"i hold you through the toughest parts / when you feel like it's the end / 'cause life is still worth living"

i think this lyric sort of explores kaiser's dynamic with ness. on one front, he is the one picking ness up from his miserable past and instilling a sense of hope into him (intentionally or not.) but on another front, this could also be a problem. kaiser is almost forcefully optimistic in the way that he believes anything is possible. it has to be possible because there can be no other way. but the thing is.....you have to know your limits sometimes. blind optimism is, ironically, similar to cornering yourself.

"i can break you down and pick you up / and fuck like we are friends / but don't be catching feelings"

this is definitely the type of bullshit kaiser would spew. i could picture a fwb or situationship with him where y/n just constantly receives the short end of the stick. now this may be reaching, but i also feel like this is how kaiser projects his own trauma onto others. he himself clawed his way up to the top and put himself back together every time he fell down. the problem is that he also expects you to be that resilient. he's going to treat you badly because you're supposed to be like him: someone who can overcome everything and strive towards the impossible.

the headcanon answer to his top artist would be keshi. in particular, i think kaiser would fit the vibe of "2 soon" and "drunk." long story short, you finally broke up with him, and he's still reeling from the impact.

within my fics, i envision a dialogue between kaiser and y/n from each one of their perspectives. so based on that, i'm going to assign him the following songs/artists:

"gibson girl" by ethel cain

i know i said earlier that kaiser's character is not solely about toxic manipulation, but you have to understand that all bad habits originate from somewhere. kaiser is innately self-destructive, and he brings you down along with him. this song is about that but from y/n's perspective. there's this idea of trying to find agency in a situation where you have none. i don't have the word count to explain ethel cain lore in all of its naked glory, but all i can say is that this song is a banger and deals with themes like femininity as a performance, finding power in pain, religious motifs, etc.

"glory box" by portishead

this song is y/n's last plea to kaiser before they fully give up on him and leave. i'm also a sucker for anything that involves an exploration of gender dynamics and what it means to be a woman, and this song is riddled with it.

"suffocation" by crystal castles

this is kaiser post-isagi defeat (cue that one scene where he was trying to choke himself.) similar to sae, it's all or nothing with him. he suffers from this feeling of inferiority. everyone made him out to be this great figure of impossible dreams and legends, but look at him now. he's nothing. aren't you disappointed? he had you fooled, but he also fooled himself. so yeah....kaiser is definitely the most self-deprecating out of all of the boys at blue lock.

ISAGI

the fanon answer is laufey, and i also agree. he's so sweet, and laufey's music just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. he would also be that one love that came creeping up on you when you least expected it. "valentine" would be the song for that. i picture a reader who's had a series of unfortunate breakups and is right on the edge of giving up entirely. but then isagi comes along, and it's just so easy to love him. as easy as breathing. and then you think maybe it wasn't so bad after all. you just never found the right one until he came into your life. furthermore, isagi is a jazz pop princess, and you can't convince me otherwise.

the headcanon answer is IU. more specifically, i would say "troll" from her lilac album. i feel like even if you and isagi broke up, it would still be like you two never broke up at all. you're both on good terms, and even though you know it's counterproductive to keep cycling back to each other, you do it anyways. and it's okay because you're both still in love.

from my own playlists, i would assign the following songs/artists:

"winter bear" by v

this is my comfort song. it feels like those big sherpa blankets you tuck yourself under when you're lying next to the heater in winter. isagi would kiss your forehead and nuzzle your nose before you two drifted off to sleep.

"a boy named pluto" by hailey knox

this one is so romantic lol. i also like the dynamic where one party is afraid to love, but the other person loves them unconditionally. that would be isagi. he'd respect your decision and wait for you as long as you need it. but if you're ever ready to give him a chance, just know that he's going to treasure all of you.

"put your records on" by ritt momney

the inspiring thing about isagi is that he never lets anyone put him down. he takes rejection as redirection, failure as room for improvement. and in that way, i think this song encapsulates his resilience. he'd be such a good boyfriend not just romantically but in the way that he would literally pick you back up to your feet, dust you off, and make sure everything was alright.

"fairy of shampoo" by dosii

i picture isagi as someone who falls first and falls harder. he just loves you so much, and he doesn't even need a reason why. i saw somewhere that sometimes you don't love someone because they're your soulmate/twin flame/supernaturally fated other. you love them because you consciously made the decision to. isagi is like that. he loves you on purpose.

helppp why does this sound like an academic paper...i'm sorry anon. i got carried away with this, but i hope u like it.

319 notes · View notes

slexenskee · 4 months

Text

👀 New surprise acoustic album coming up in a chapter near you~

I think we all know what spurred this surprise acoustic album this time 😂

Disenchanted - MCR, Regular | Acoustic

Stay Together For the Kids - Blink 182, Regular | Acoustic

Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls, Regular | Acoustic

How's It Going To Be - 3EB, Regular | Acoustic

All These Things That I've Done - The Killers, Regular | Acoustic

I chose these songs mostly on the regular versions, but some of them have pretty great acoustic versions ngl. I really like that Stay Together For the Kids and Disenchanted renditions, which I think use the real ripped vocals over acoustic instrumentals. And I actually prefer the Boyce Avenue version of Iris than the actual acoustic version from GGD. But for How's It Going To Be and All These Things I've Done, I really adore the originals, even if they lend themselves well to acoustic versions.

Also yes instead of talking about his feelings in a mature and calm manner, Gojo instead runs off and makes an album about it instead 😂 tbf using art as an outlet is actually a very healthy thing to do, but so is talking to your partner about your internal struggles.

But I find it very in character of him to struggle to put his own feelings into words, or rather, to express them outwardly and actually speak and vocalize them to others in a normal way, and turn to music instead. Unlike Hawks - who is more of an action guy and even in his POVs shows how he feels through his actions rather than introspective monologues - Gojo's actually your classic Tortured Poet (see what I did there lol) who has a lot of Thoughts™, even if he's horrible about expressing them and regularly ignores them. So in his own way, he's trying to communicate a lot through this album - to the whole world, but also to Hawks specifically.

Tbh this album is probably Gojo's most 'personal', or at the very least, as personal as you can get when you never wrote the songs to begin with lol. But idk, my millennial is showing here but there was always something so personal to making mixtape CDs for yourself or for others. You might not have wrote them, but it says a lot that you chose them to define yourself, you know?? Anyway I digress, moral of the story this is actually Gojo reaching out in his own way. And tbh, it's kind of a summary of his life too. A lot of times I pick songs for this fic mainly just because I like the way they sound, with no real meaning to them, and that's canon too as Gojo picks his songs for the Vibes™, but for this album noooope.

Disenchanted - Going to be crowned as the quintessential 'Dabi' song. Literally all about being a disenfranchised and disenchanted youth who sings away his angst and the chorus is 'If I'm so wrong, how can you listen all night long?' This is basically the summary of how sad teenage Dabi felt and why he turned to both music and villainy

Stay Together For The Kids - So on the nose it's not even funny, but I adore that guitar riff in the beginning. And while Gojo's parents didn't divorce in either of his lives, I still feel this resonating with him because of the way his youth was ruined by the adults who were supposed to love and care about him, in both lives. And yes, when the Endeavor reveal drops people are going to be questioning this song.

Iris - Yes, this is his pining song. First for Suguru, but then takes on a new meaning with Hawks. Yes, it turns all the Sixwings fans into a sobbing mess every time. Really though more than being a love song about either Suguru or Hawks, this is hi trying to convey his own feelings with lines like 'yeah you bleed just to know you're alive'/'when everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am'

How's It Going To Be - Known to Sixwings fans as the 'breakup/makeup' song. Like yeah it's about Sixwings breaking up, but it's also Ru-kun shouting to the world that he wants to get Hawks back. It becomes infamous for it. When No Scrubs finally goes on their massive Taylor Swift Era's-esque tour he'll play this and Iris back to back and have the whole stadium bawling. Ngl this is my favorite 3EB song, so it had to go in this fic somewhere. I love how it starts mainly soft and acoustic and at the climax the full band kicks in and Stephan Jenkins just starts belting 'I wanna get myself back into you, the soft dive of oblivion'

All These Things That I've Done - If Disenchanted is Dabi looking back on his life/past and all the anger and sadness he sees there, then the final track on the album is about coming to terms with himself and trying to accept who he is, and look towards the future. Huge theme for he next arcs/final fic in this series. I actually always thought the line was 'these changes ain't changing me, the gold-hearted boy I used to be'... but it's actually cold-hearted, which kinda totally changes my narrative for this song so I'm pretending it's gold-hearted 😂

#fic may death never stop you #mdnsy art

101 notes · View notes

lovefrombegonia · 1 month

Text

Thinking about Yuder Aile's looks

I did think before that Yuder must be quite plain looking. Not ugly but not extraordinary either. Atleast, that's how he always thought of himself. But then I realised Yuder Aile is a freaking unreliable narrator. And that got me thinking even more of how he looked like. Of course, we have a great manhwa and many novel illustrations of how Yuder looks.

And they are all so cute! I just tend to visualise them a bit differently than whatever official arts make them out to be. That's to be expected, after all, we all imagine things differently when it comes to looks. Btw this is not me criticizing the manhwa or the illustrations. They are all so beautiful and I love them all 🥰🥹

TBH I think Yuder is actually...quite an unconventional beauty (lol ik so original). You know there are some people who, at first glance, look pretty but not extraordinary...but then the more you look at them, the prettier they become??? It's like some kind of magic happening. I had a senior in my college who was like that. The more I look, the prettier she becomes. I think of actors like Rekha and Tabu who become prettier the longer you look at them.

Also, in the world of Turning, it seems the beauty standard is bright hair and bright eyes, pastel colours and all. And Yuder is full on a goth gf. No pastels. Stark and contrasting. Black hair, dark eyes, pale af, stoic, and intimidating. He is not all sharp tho. He has chubby cheeks, according to Kiolle Diarca, so, I think Yuder has baby fats on his cheeks. That's insanely adorable to me. I can see why Enon wants to pinch those cheeks. I keep thinking of actor Yin Zheng, he has the most adorable cheeks. He makes me go insane. BTW check out his masterpiece of a drama called "Winter Begonia" ❤️ it's a cdrama based on a danmei novel.

Yuder thinks he is tall. And HE IS. He is 5'11". That's tall, ok. From the QnA, Kuyu did say he has a thin body type, so, I imagine him as a lean muscled body type. Not lanky at all. Like, Bruce Lee. A powerful house of a man, with defined biceps and core. Yuder from manhwa does remind of Bruce Lee a lot tbh. I really like that, Bruce Lee is my childhood!

(NB: I love his expressions)

So, that's how I think Yuder looks like. I am bad at the visualising part tho, so, Yuder keeps on shifting in my mind. I imagine a youthful face carrying the expression of a war veteran, and that makes people around him intimidated but also intrigued. All the descriptions in the novel remind me of the most is actually a very famous character, known as, the motherfucking Moon Dong-Eun from "Glory"! Played by Song Hye-Kyo. The eyes...look at her EYES!! That's Yuder Aile staring into your soul!!!!

You can even feel the eerie glare from behind the shades!

I think Lady Snowblood, played by Meiko Kaji, is also a good reference for Yuder's eyes. Look at her! I think this one is more suited for Yudrain Aile tho.

Ok. That is where I end my ramblings LOL

Wanted to say this for a long time. I would love to hear what others think Yuder looks like too. What other actors or even fan casting do you think of? Yuder Aile is such an interesting character. He is such a blorbo. I love him so much, and I am so happy I stumbled onto this treasure of a novel 💕

#yuder aile #yudrain aile #turning by kuyu #turning novel #turning manhwa #turning #터닝 #saya rambles.

62 notes · View notes

flyingwithclippedwings · 4 months

Text

showing love to my seraphs / seraphims !

you are here. you are valid. you are one of us !

ʚ all angels are divine ɞ

.♡.

love to my seraphs who can sing, your voices sound sweet like ambrosia and bring me closer to home. keep showing the world your angelic voice, youre divine and you deserve to know it.

love to my seraphs who maybe can't sing like we did, you are still one of us and you are just as angelic. your divinity shines through and all voices are beautiful amongst the choir, no matter how they may sound.

love to my seraphs who are sweet and soft, i adore you. i see your delicate smile and your beautiful eyes, they catch the light and enchant all those who view them. i see the rosiness of your cheeks and the way your hair sways on the breeze, and the grace and elegance you carry yourself with are something i admire.

love to my seraphs who are rough and battered, i admire you. i hear the thunder in your footsteps and the power in your voice, like the most triumphant vocals in our beautiful choir. i see the scrapes on your knees and the bruises on your knuckles, i acknowledge your battles and i know how hard you fought with win them, my angel.

love to my fallen seraphs, no matter your trial and your pain you are divine in my eyes. your beauty still shows, and you are still apart of our choir no matter what, my angel. my heart bleeds for you, and my wings shield you from the dangers of the world. you are safe. you are loved. you will always have a place in my heart, in my head, and in my arms. i sing my songs for you.

love to my seraphs who are young, your youth is a blessing and it radiates through you! the softness of your voice and the kindness in your eyes are unparalleled, your wings will grow and stretch across the skies, and i cant wait to see how you learn and expand and watch you fly, I'll make sure to keep you close under my wings, young one !

love to my seraphs who are old, your age changes not your elegance and beauty, and the stories and lessons you bring with you are important and appreciated. you know knowledge we may only hope to learn and we see the wiseness in your gaze and the power you have. i admire you, and i see how you've lived and thrived. you are divine.

love to my religious seraphs, i admire your faith and i see your devotion. you are divine, and your voices echo in our choir and fill me with happiness. you are a believer, and valid no matter what it is you choose to believe in. id love to learn about your faith, join you in prayer and sing with you!

love to my non-religious seraphs, you are valid and divine. worship does not define you, and no matter what anyone says you are an angel in our choir ! you are beautiful and tolerant, and i welcome you with open arms, and wings!

#angel otherkin #seraphim #angelkin #actually angelic #fallen angel #divinekin #otherkin #angelcore #were an angel

74 notes · View notes

in-death-we-fall · 1 year

Text

Murderdolls

Love at First Sight

Metal Edge 48-11, March 2003

By Roger Lotring Photos By Eddie Malluk

(google drive link) Slipknot interview here – Stone Sour interview here

There are probably less than two hundred people at the Webster Theater. It’s Tuesday night in Hartford, CT, and the Murderdolls are in town to tutor a whole new generation on the fundamentalism of real rock ‘n’ roll. Without the vacant hype of Madison Avenue trendiness, their renascent timelessness is lost so far on the youth of a nation. But that’s about to change. They seize the stage with an adrenaline overdose that probably hasn’t happened since Mötley Crüe first molested Hollywood’s Sunset Strip over twenty years ago. The Murderdolls are glorious rock ‘n’ roll sluts in a manner desperately lost from contemporary music, and definitely lost on those two standoffish fuckers provoking the band with drunken taunting. Vocalist Wednesday 13 swings around to leap to the edge of the stage, leaning forward to dare them with confrontation. But they don’t respond—They can’t, even if they had the balls, because the kids are right in their faces. That pissed-off look in those kids’ eyes, their vehement willingness to defend their band, it’s a defining moment that marks this band as something special. For those couple hundred kids here in Hartford on a Tuesday night, they believe in the Murderdolls. Love at first fright, indeed, and it’s only a matter of time before the word spreads.

“There’s nothing better than that first time seeing a band,” enthuses guitarist Joey Jordison, recalling his own formative rock ‘n’ roll indulgences. “It’s so special, when no one else knew who the fuck they were, and they were your fucking band.” The impact of his influences–and those of the whole band, really—are just as prevalent today as they were back then. It’s obvious as the band prepares for the show with their battle cry of KISS Alive II shaking the dressing room walls. KISS, Alice Cooper, Hanoi Rocks, Twisted Sister—That is the essence of the Murderdolls. “We wanted him to come out and do ‘Twist My Sister’ with us,” guitarist Acey Slade says of Dee Snider, disappointed that he is no longer broadcast on Radio 104 WMRQ in Hartford.

Metal Edge sat down with Joey, Wednesday and Acey to discuss the Murderdolls. And while the conversation touched on numerous topics including their Beyond The Valley Of The Murderdolls debut, touring Europe, and drummer The Ghoul’s exhibitionism with two women in a crowded Japanese bar, at the heart of it were rock ‘n’ roll fans sharing their obsession with a sound that the Murderdolls are single-handedly determined to resurrect.

METAL EDGE: Where does a band like the Murderdolls fit within contemporary hard rock? Or is it more important to go against the grain of popularity? JOEY JORDISON: That was our point, exactly what you just said. The whole thing was–especially with me coming out of Slipknot—I did not want to do anything even remotely where music is right now. I wanted to come out completely different, and just create music that’s a little bit more fun, because everything right now is stagnant and stale. I think, really, the nu metal scene, where hard rock is right now, is almost like a dead scene. We wanted to be completely removed, as far as possible, from all that stuff. WEDNESDAY 13: It wasn’t that hard, either, because we really didn’t have to try. We just wrote the songs, recorded them, and didn’t think about anything outside the studio. JJ: What he was doing in the Frankenstein Drag Queens was pretty much a lot of what we’re doing now. Wednesday was one of the only people I saw in the underground scene that was doing what I was doing. That’s cool, because he doesn’t know about many bands that are out right now and really big—All that stuff that Slipknot gets lumped into.

ME: Joey, being the writer, producer, and principal musician on Beyond The Valley Of The Murderdolls, was it hard to be objective toward the songs? JJ: I was having a hard time, like is this even worth putting out or not? That’s why I wanted to get a songwriting partner. I really liked Wednesday’s voice, and the way he looked. His songs were very similar to what I was doing, but had a little darker feel to ‘em, and the sense of humor was a little bit more tongue-in-cheek. If I was not sure on something, he'd give me an opinion. If he wasn't sure on something, I'd give him my opinion. It made it a lot easier for the recording process, for sure.

ME: What's the most surprising reaction so far to the Murderdolls? What have you seen that you just kind of stepped back and said, "I don't believe I just saw that?" W13: We got a human heart given to us by a girl who had all our names carved into her arm—Even the band name. But, with me, she told me, "Well, I couldn't write your whole name, so I put a 'W' and a '13'." JJ: She's like, "I want to give you my heart, 'cause my heart belongs to the Murderdolls. Hold onto it safe, "cause I might need it back someday." And it had a picture of her and me with it in a fucking jar… W13: Floating around in the formaldehyde.

ME: To what degree has there been any moral backlash as a result of misinterpretation of your lyrics? ACEY SLADE: When we were in Germany, there was a Christian group that went around and put Show Cancelled (sic) over the top of our posters, so people won't (sic) show up for the show. I saw the shit [written] in German, and I was like, "Sold out! Right on, that means sold out!" They're like, "No, Show Cancelled (sic)." [Laughter] W13: But nothing really, really good has happened, though. We're still waiting… And hoping, keeping our fingers crossed. [Laughter]

ME: Do you think that will eventually happen? JJ: Most of that backlash stuff is an American thing. Over in Europe—actually, anywhere besides America—is way more open to the fun aspect. They see the humor in what we're doing, especially the U.K. Their type of humor kind of goes along hand-in-hand with our type of lyrics.

ME: It would seem that as far as any controversy, there's been more uproar over the "body snatching,” so to speak, of Acey from Dope. [Acey laughs] It's almost like one of those jokes: How many Dope guitarists does it take to screw in a Murderdolls lightbulb? [Laughter] JJ: Y'know, that's weird, 'cause I liked Dope. I was actually a fan of theirs. I really enjoyed them a lot, [and] thought they were great. And it was never a thing like, "Oh man, I want to get people from that band." I just hit it off well with them. Tripp was a great guy. It just came down to the time when we were going to tour, and he comes up with news that he had to go back to Static-X. Well, that's cool, but he wanted to stay in the band and play some [select] shows. I just didn't want to have a revolving door and confuse the fans. Acey was actually a choice to be in the [pre-Murderdolls] Rejects, as well, just Tripp came into the band first. Me and Acey kept in touch, so the only choice we even considered was Acey. Luckily enough, he came in and did an amazing job. He had like six days rehearsal just before we started our tour. AS: Not even. I came in on a Wednesday or Thursday. We left [the following] Monday. [Laughter] W13: Plus, me and Acey, we used to play in bands together in Philadelphia, before he was in Dope. We knew of each other, so we were into the same kind of music then. I met him back then, then when he was in Dope, I met him again and we started talking. AS: Back in ‘96 or ‘97, we were the only two guys on the East Coast with dreadlocks and eyeliner, so it wasn’t too hard for us to cross paths. So I’ve known him for years and years.

ME: From a musical standpoint, people don’t realize that what the Murderdolls are doing is very fundamental, but it’s a lot harder to learn because there’s a lot of intuitive stuff. AS: The thing is, we all have the same musical roots. For me it was like, “Alright, this part’s kind of like ‘Rock And Roll High School,’ this part’s kind of like Hanoi Rocks’ ‘Mental Beat.’” All three of us have the same point of reference. I think it would probably be a little harder from the nu metal school to come in and learn the stuff, ‘cause it would be so foreign to them.

ME: In a fatalistic kind of way, then, Murderdolls has actually been coming for a long time. JJ: Yeah, there’s been a bunch of links, but it’s not like this was just all of a sudden really formulated. It’s like, everyone knew each other in a weird, different way. We just didn’t all meet as a band until last year. But everyone knew each other through different people.

ME: But isn’t that how it’s theoretically supposed to happen if you’re going to do it right, so it’s not contrived? JJ: Exactly, man. People might think that, all of a sudden, it was just put together really quick, this little project that’s only going to be one album, and that’s it. It’s really not like that.

ME: Media comparisons have been to Mötley Crüe and the Misfits, but there’s so much more going on. Is there a predominant underlying influence behind the Murderdolls that might not be readily apparent? W13: I think we all have our different things. Me, it’s Alice Cooper, totally. And Acey, Hanoi Rocks, and Joey, KISS. I mean, it’s a lot of the same stuff, but I don’t think you can really pinpoint it al.

ME: Similarly, media focus is on Wednesday and Joey—and now Acey, coming from Dope. In all fairness, what do Ben [Graves] and Eric [Griffin] bring to the Murderdolls? AS: Well, first of all, Ben’s not Ben… He’s The Ghoul. [Laughter]

ME: Is that a capital “T” in the word “the”? AS: Yes, The Ghoul. JJ: I had the hardest time finding people that I actually wanted to bring into the band on bass and drums—Especially with drums. It took a really long time, and they just seemed to fit. I can’t really explain, but hey just brought that attitude—I guess the cockiness, in a way. Ben’s like the hardest hitting drummer that I’ve ever seen in my fucking life. He is so fucking loud. W13: I’ve played with some hard-hitting drummers, but he is so loud, and so hard. JJ: And that’s great! I mean, it drives our fucking music.

ME: But you’ve got to have that for this type of music to work. JJ: Exactly! He’s fucking great, man, as far as just slamming it home live. You can feel it. I mean, the energy is amazing that comes off that guy.

ME: Is it harder for him, in the sense that you’re a drummer, and going to be his worst critic? [Laughter] JJ: He’s cool about it. Actually, he doesn’t really even get that nervous. When I was working with him in rehearsal, I did kind of drill him, ya’ know? He did get it worse out of all the guys in the band, for sure. But he just worked his ass off, really, and he pulls it off amazing. W13: And [Eric] brings a lot of hairspray. [Laughter] AS: He brings a lot of hairspray, some good makeup products, and no less thunder. JJ: And tardiness. W13: This guy’s just really got the whole image of the rock ‘n’ roll thing down. AS: It’s kind of funny, how people ask us about the image of the band. To me, if you wake up and look the way you do, then it’s not an image. An image is something that’s formulated and calculated. We don’t have a consultant telling us, “Alright, track suits aren’t in as much as they used to be.” This is just who we are, ya’ know?

ME: But does your look empower you, as far as performing the music? If you think about it, you must feel differently than if you were going onstage wearing sneakers and levis. W13: It definitely turns something on for me when I go onstage. I mean, it definitely helps. It’s like, it turns it on. It’s just a switch.

ME: Being that Joey was responsible for pretty much all the performances on the album, how have the dynamics of these songs changed, now that you’ve got five individuals interpreting them? JJ: The album is really good, [and] I’m very, very proud of it. I think it turned out phenomenal—Actually, better than I expected. It is different, though, much more of a chemistry with the five guys, as opposed to me. Not necessarily completely different, but the vibe of the five different personalities playing some songs.

ME: Almost like the songs taking on a life of their own that they didn’t have before? JJ: Absolutely, yeah. AS: What Joey’s been really cool about is letting it become a chemistry, letting it become the Murderdolls. When I came into it late, I was looking at the CD, going, “Well, Joey played all these guitar parts.” When we sat down in the [rehearsal] room together, I was intimidated! But he was like, “Well, yeah, that’s cool, I like that accent… What do you think?”

ME: So you’ve been able to make your impact on the songs. AS: Yes, but keeping the original continuity. But it’s the same with The Ghoul, or with the other members.

ME: Are the songs continuing to evolve, even after being recorded? Watching you soundcheck “Love At First Fright,” that looked like you just stumbled across something brand new right there. W13: [Laughter] We did! That was the first time we did a different intro.

ME: How different has the reaction been in Europe than here in the United States? W13: We’ve really been touring there a lot, so we’ve built up a thing there—Especially in the U.K., man, it’s just insane. Hundreds and hundreds of kids, and they all look just like us. But we really haven’t worked it here, though, so this is like we’re just starting from the ground up. JJ: But that was kind of what we wanted to do, concentrate on everywhere else in the world first and establish the band. Those people [in Europe] really appreciate when you do that over there. Some bands, like American bands, nu metal bands, wait two years before they even go to Europe. We’re like, fuck that! And it’s already paid off. It’s only now that we are really going to start hitting America.

ME: Does it make it a little more difficult, though, having gotten such a reaction, then coming back to America? You must have known going into it that you are going to be playing to smaller audiences at first. W13: I prepared myself for it. I knew it was going to be hard. I know it’s a lot different, maybe for Joey, who’s in Slipknot. But before this, i was driving ten, twelve hours to play in front of ten people. That’s never going to leave me. I’m always used to that, so I can work an audience, whether it’s ten people, or ten thousand people, it doesn’t really matter. JJ: Doing what I do in the other band that I play in, it’s basically playing in arenas. But it doesn’t matter, man. As long as people appreciate your music, or want to come out and see you, i can still play in front of two people. AS: It’s weird, even though we’ve done dates, i still don’t feel like we’ve done a proper U.S. tour yet. And so, when we do that—probably February—I think all bets are going to be off. It’s gonna be off the hook.

ME: You’re going out with Papa Roach? Or are you going out on your own? JJ: We gotta get a (sic) on a support slot for a band, obviously bigger than us, to take the band out to a little bit wider of an audience. Papa Roach is an option, [and] there’s a couple other things that are in the works.

ME: Do you look forward to the fact that it’s going to be a challenge? If you’re out with a band that isn’t necessarily similar to what you do, you’ve got that challenge of winning over an audience. W13: We did. We did it with Papa Roach in Europe. We toured with them, five, six weeks, [and] every night…

ME: You’re getting the looks on faces, the “What the fuck is that?” look. W13: That’s exactly it. JJ: It was every night. And like, four songs in, they’d be smiling, singing the words, ‘cause our shit’s singalong. It’s so anthemic live, it’s so hard not to get into it. One of the big things about our band is that it’s a fun show. It’s fucking fun again. It’s something that’s been really missing [from music], probably like fifteen years.

ME: From that standpoint, I get it because I remember. But does the 14-year-old kid standing in front of you, wearing the Slipknot shirt get it? JJ: Good question. I think yes, by the end of the set, he does. You don’t have to be a fuckin’ brain surgeon to understand what the fuck we’re doing. But I think that’s what’s great about it. It’s simple, and it’s anthemetic (sic). The lyrics are fucking cool, and it’s not about fucking childhood trauma, or war, politics, or bullshit like that.

#if you want anything else from this scanned lemme know!#murderdolls #joey jordison #wednesday 13 #acey slade #eric griffin #ben graves #interview #metal edge 48-11 mar 2003

249 notes · View notes

featherandferns · 1 year

Note

fluff 14 maybe?

14. Tell me a secret?

This is very wholesome and sappy, so hope that's okay. I'm dosed up to the max on pain relief for this stupid cold I've managed to catch so I'm feeling extra simpy today.

Feel free to request! - prompt list

sea and sand - prompt 14

The woodsy smell of pine intertwines with the scent of burning. You and JJ are the stragglers of the Pogues, sat around the campfire outside of the chateau. There’s a blanket draped over your lap to save your ankles from the skeeters. Occasionally, one lands on your neck and you bat it away. The two of you are sat on a chunky log. JJ has his pocketknife out and is cutting dents into the bark. He’s humming a Red Hot Chilli Pepper’s song under breath and you’re tapping your foot along to the rhythm absentmindedly. In your hand is a skewer. You’re roasting a marshmallow over the dying flames. Neither of you are talking. It’s not because you dislike one another. On the contrary, in fact. You and JJ are closer than sand and sea. It’s simply because sometimes words aren’t needed to keep a conversation; silence works better. That to say, when a thought passes your mind, you let it out into the summer night air.

“Tell me a secret?"

“A secret?” JJ asks, pausing his humming.

“Mhm.”

“What kinda secret? A good secret or a bad secret?”

“Good secret. Duh.”

“You gonna blackmail me with it?” he wonders. He’s still stabbing at the bark.

“Depends if it’s good for blackmailing.”

“Fair that,” JJ mumbles.

He sits up and looks into the fire. You pull back your skewer and inspect your marshmallow. Could do with a bit more on the edge…

“I don’t like peas,” JJ says.

You snort and look to him, returning your skewer to dangle above the flames.

“That’s not a secret.”

“Sure it is,” JJ shrugs, meeting your gaze. There’s a faint smile on his face. Eyes tired and lazy from the cannabis and booze. “Nobody else knows it.”

“Nobody?”

“Nope.”

“Not even John B?”

“Hell no, man,” JJ chuckles. You laugh too.

“But it’s not exactly a secret,” you remind him. “Just a fact.”

“Aren’t all secrets just facts, though?” JJ philosophises.

You roll your eyes. Bringing your skewer back to you, you lean down to retrieve a graham cracker from the packet resting by your feet, sliding the marshmallow atop.

“I still feel cheated,” you tell him, taking a bite.

You hold out the s’more for him to have a bite too. He doesn’t take it from your hold. Instead, JJ leans down and takes a bite, making you laugh.

“You tell me a secret then,” JJ says through his chews.

Swallowing your mouthful, you frown. “Why should I?”

“Tit for tat.”

“But I don’t really have any secrets,” you lie.

JJ throws his head back. “Liar. Everyone has a secret.”

“Like not liking peas?”

“Yeah!”

You laugh with JJ.

The fire casts an orange glow on his face. Outlines his jaw and traces the curve of his lips. Reflects brightly in his eyes, as he stares down at you. Something about it makes everything feel more intense, and you look away, down at your half eaten s’more. Taking another bite, you debate over your many secrets. Some are fickle and funny, like how you used to say goodnight to every single one of your named teddy bears (of which, there were many) or how you used to have a fear of animatronics and left a Chuck-E-Cheese crying your eyes out, at a childhood party. Others are die-hard, take-to-the-grave sort of things.

“A secret, huh?” you repeat, quieter now.

JJ nods. He seems to have mellowed out more. Extends his legs out and crosses them at the ankles. His cap has long since been abandoned, earlier in the night. You prefer him without it, if only slightly. It let’s you admire him as a whole. The unruliness of his hair and the defined youthfulness of his features. A gold rush that everybody wants to get their hands on but nobody can ever keep a grasp of. Impermanent like riches.

You look to him when you reply, perhaps watching for a reaction. “You’re my favourite.”

“Your favourite?”

“Mhm,” you nod. Pick at the crumbs of your half-eaten snack. Bask in the crackles of the dying fire.

“Your favourite what?”

“My favourite person,” you shrug.

JJ smiles at you. It’s different to his usual smiles – giddy and playful and mischievous. It’s serene and somewhat flustered, dare you say. Then again, the shine to his cheeks could be from the heat of the fire.

“Really?”

“Really,” you quietly chuckle.

Grinning now, he nudges his shoulder against yours. It’s sad, how after so much time in his company, it still thrills you with excitement. The way you feel about JJ is the type of puppy-dog love a person usually feels only once in their life. Typically in youth, when you’re too dumb to know anything else but idolisation. But what a thing to put on a pedestal, huh? Someone who looks as if they walked out of a sketchbook.

“You’re my favourite person too,” he says to you.

“Don’t bullshit me,” you snort, looking out to the fire. Your appetite has gone suddenly. The air feels thick.

“I ain’t bullshitting anybody.”

“Yeah right,” you say. “John B’s your favourite.”

“He’s alright,” JJ sighs. Looks out to the flames himself. You can only half see his face in your peripheral. “Just don’t think about kissing John B all that much, so I guess that makes you my favourite.”

Darting your head around, you take in his side profile. Your smile is gone. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Well, I wanna hear it again,” you dumbly say.

JJ chuckles. He looks to you, chin help up high, confident and self-assured. But you know him well. Better than you think, sometimes. His fingers are tapping nervously at the bark of the wood the two of you sit on, side by side. Sea and sand: never one without the other.

“I wanna kiss you,” JJ privately tells you. “I think about it more than I probably should, to be honest.”

You’re face feels a little numb but something tells you that you’re smiling. Small and serendipitous.

“Now that’s a secret, Maybank,” you reply.

There’s the briefest flash of his smile as he chuckles, and the briefest dart of his eyes glancing to your lips, and then he’s leaning down to kiss you. The warmth it breathes into you is stronger than any bonfire you’ve borne witness to. The s’more is ditched in favour of you reaching up, cupping at his face. As you kiss, melding into one another the way marshmallow melts, there’s no worries of what might come next, or anxieties about what this means for your friendship. There’s simply the two of you, like always. Like it should be and like it was intended. Sea and sand.

#jj #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj drabble #jj maybank drabble #drabbles #drabble #prompts #14 #jj x reader drabble #jj maybank x reader drabble #obx #obx drabbles #obx fic #outer banks #outer banks drabble #outer banks fic #fluff

248 notes · View notes

theleechyskrunkly · 3 months

Text

Name: Aurinelle Sireiwen.

Basic Info:

Class/Grade: Class 2-C/Sophomore (No. 27)

Dorm: Octavinelle.

Birthday: February 29th.

Zodiac Sign: Pisces.

MBTI: ISTJ.

Age: 18 (he’s been at NRC since 16, but had to retake freshman year due to failing several magic classes)

Height: 6 feet 2 inches/ 188 cm.

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous.

Homeland: The Abyssal Sea (the super very bottom of it, where light never reaches).

Family: Unnamed mothers, six unnamed sisters.

Species: Sireno (male counterpart of a Siren/Sirena).

Unique Magic: Heed My Call. Has the power to hypnotize anyone by singing, allowing him to make them do his bidding. He can also suck out people’s voices as well as their magic to feed his own.

Preferences:

Club: Science.

Best Subject: Music.

Hobbies: Singing, poison making, sitting soaking wet in a bathtub in his merform.

Pet Peeves: Being touched without permission, when his hair gets tangled, heat and dryness, being questioned.

Favorite food: human flesh Cephalopoda (octopus and squid)

Least Favorite Food: Shark meat.

Likes: Octavinelle, the ocean, singing, music, cooking, reading, water, swimming, his hair.

Dislikes: Fishermen, human traffickers/hunters, gossip, nets, narrow spaces, crowds, alcohol, anything that restricts his movement.

Appearance (Human Form):

Aurinelle has curly knee-length hair the color of freshly fallen snow, with purplish blue that starts at his roots and quickly fades into white. He cares for his hair like his life depends on it. His skin is entirely pale except for the patches of aero blue that surround the scales around his body. His scales are capable of changing color based on his mood, however he’s come to have control over that ability in order to avoid being easily read.

Aurinelle has a lithe body with impressive flexibility and is incredibly tall, towering over most students at a whopping 6’2 feet. His nails are naturally black and he paints over them with different types of glitters and decorations. His low, defined cheekbones make his facials look charmingly youthful. He has droopy hooded eyes colored a golden yellow that fades into a light blue. His eye lashes are long and well taken care of. On the other hand, the underside of his eyes are marked by heavy blueish eye bags (which he’s often nagged about by Vil).

Appearance (Merform):

In his merform, Aurinelle is extremely thin, yet incredibly strong. He is about 7 feet in length, and his entire body is painted in different shades of blues, purples and pinks. His massive tail has many different gems that act as his scales that also change color. His scales shine brightly in the dark, both on land and in the sea. His tail fins are an unadulterated white, which contrast with the rest of his body hue.

When in his merform, the color of his sclera changes from white to pitch black and his irises become solely yellow. The scales on his tail form a pattern of waves that entangle with each other in a sort of Yin Yang formation.

Personality:

Aurinelle is relatively quiet, and always has a resting bitch face on. He’s usually avoided for both his large size and for several lurking rumors about his identity and species, since no one actually knows what he is. He dislikes being questioned about his identity, because to land dwellers and coral sea inhabitants alike, sirens had gone extinct centuries ago. Imagine the ruckus if he were to be found out!

However, unlike many assumptions, Aurinelle is a wonderful listener and an impressive leader. That does not mean he can’t give firm and harsh criticism when required (some people in NRC need a harsh slap from reality). He’s protective of those whom he’s fond of, and is extremely soft to children, singing lovely lullaby songs if his appearance happens to intimidate them. He’s hardly ever deceived (Azul, Jade and Jamil learned that the hard way), and has sharp senses that alert him if someone is nothing but trouble. He hates being watched (cough Rook cough), but he knows the difference when he’s watched out of admiration vs out of spite or the like.

Overall, he’s a misunderstood giant.

HE’S FINALLY FINISHED AFTER SO MANY HOURS OF DRAWING

gosh I LOVE HIM

spoiler alert: I’m never drawing his merform again 😜

Tagging: @thehollowwriter @cyanide-latte @enigmatic-pers @xen-blank @distant-velleity @elenauaurs

#Aurinelle Sireiwen #Twst oc #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst art #twst fanart #twst wonderland #twst disney #octavinelle #azul ashengrotto #twst jade leech #twst jamil

30 notes · View notes

mdzs-fanon-exposed · 2 months

Text

MDZS Fanon VS Canon: 7/?

Mo Xuanyu and Xue Yang were Jin disciples at the same time

Rating: FANON – SUPPORTED

There's a not insignificant amount of fanworks that depict Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu interacting during their time as guest disciples of the Lanling Jin sect. While we do not have any concrete evidence that the two characters ever met, it is (mostly) possible to discern whether they were guest disciples at the same time.

The timeline of Mo Dao Zu Shi is often hard to follow because specific years and dates are rarely given in the books, but using context clues, I can piece together a rough estimate of when both characters were present at Golden Carp Tower and use that to identify any points they may have overlapped.

Xue Yang:

Xue Yang's time as a guest disciple is easier to define, so I'll start with him. The earliest time we see him, chronologically, is during the flower-viewing banquet that Lanling Jin held directly following the end of the Sunshot Campaign:

Xue Yang was extremely young at this point in time. Although his face still had a boyish cast to it, he was already very tall. He also wore a Sparks Amidst Snow robe, the very picture of carefree youth as he stood beside Jin Guangyao, like a spring breeze caressing the willow. (Seven Seas Ch. 10, Part 2)

He is already a disciple of the Jin sect, although he hasn't been one for long, according to Nie Mingjue's reaction:

Nie Mingjue frowned. “Xue Yang from Kui Prefecture?” Jin Guangyao nodded. Xue Yang was already infamous at a young age. Wei Wuxian could clearly sense Nie Mingjue’s frown deepening. (Seven Seas Ch. 10, Part 2)

Note that at this point, both Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixuan are alive (and attending the flower-viewing banquet as well). We can assume that this happens approximately 1-2 years before Wei Wuxian's death, due to factors such as time skips and a reference to the Sunshot Campaign from when Xiao Xingchen leaves the mountain, which we know is about a year after the Siege:

At the time, it had only been a few years since the end of the Sunshot Campaign, and the Siege of the Yiling Burial Mounds had just concluded. (Seven Seas Ch. 7)

and

Twelve years ago happened to be the year right after the Siege of the Yiling Burial Mounds, so they had just missed each other. (Seven Seas Ch. 7)

We can also approximate when Xue Yang's time as a disciple ended. He had to have been a guest disciple of the Lanling Jin until between one and two years after Wei Wuxian's death. We know it was at least one year afterwards, because he meets Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan while still associated with the Sect:

Xiao Xingchen smiled, seemingly well aware that it was in Jin Guangyao’s nature to speak in an ingratiating way. “Lianfang-zun speaks too highly of me.” His gaze then turned to Xue Yang. “He may be young, but since he ranks among the guest cultivators, he must still exercise self-discipline and restraint. The Jin Clan of Lanling is distinguished, after all, and should strive to set an example in many aspects.” (Seven Seas Extra 3)

And it must have been up to two years or less because Xue Yang was both imprisoned and exonerated for the crime of the Chang Clan massacre (and therefore no longer a disciple) while Jin Guangshan was still alive:

“I’m not shielding him,” Jin Guangyao defended himself. “The incident with the Chang Clan of Yueyang shocked me greatly as well. How could I have anticipated Xue Yang would slaughter a family of over fifty people? But my father insists on keeping him…” (Seven Seas Ch. 10)

and

Jin Guangshan began thinking of ways to pull Xue Yang out of jail ... until finally, the Jin Clan of Lanling successfully persuaded Chang Ping to change his story. He withdrew all the grievances he had stated before and announced publicly that the clan extermination case had nothing to do with Xue Yang. (Seven Seas Ch. 7)

And we know Jin Guangshan died eleven years before Wei Wuxian was resurrected, from Sisi's story.

“I’ll go first, then!” She casually curtsied to the crowd. “What I’m about to tell you is an incident that happened roughly eleven years ago.” ... And the half-dead man on the bed must have been Jin Guangshan! (Seven Seas Ch. 19)

Therefore, Xue Yang's time as a guest disciple lasted anywhere from two to four years in total, beginning at the end of the Sunshot Campaign and ending approximately a year (give or take) before Jin Guangshan dies.

Mo Xuanyu:

Mo Xuanyu's timeline is harder to define, because we never actually see him while he's a disciple, and have to rely on rumors and circumstantial evidence. The only reliable information we have, date-wise, is that he was fourteen when he was called to Golden Carp Tower by his father:

And sure enough, when Mo Xuanyu turned fourteen, that clan leader sent over a grand party to officially take him back. (Seven Seas Ch. 2)

Although knowing he's fourteen isn't particularly helpful, we do know that Jin Guangshan was still alive at the time. As for the exact time frame in which Mo Xuanyu could have been accepted as a disciple, Jin Guangyao says this:

“Did you think that I would rise in position with Jin Zixuan’s death? Jin Guangshan would rather bring back another illegitimate son than have me succeed him!” (Seven Seas Ch. 10)

This implies that Mo Xuanyu was accepted into Lanling Jin after Jin Zixuan's death so that Jin Guangyao would be further down the line of succession. This sentence is said when Nie Mingjue confronts Jin Guangyao about sheltering Xue Yang from the consequences of the Chang Clan massacre. Therefore, Mo Xuanyu could have (theoretically) entered the Jin sect at any point between Jin Zixuan's death and Nie Mingjue's confrontation, the latter of which took place after Xue Yang's imprisonment.

However, I believe it is more likely that Mo Xuanyu was brought in during the aftermath of Jin Zixuan's death, for the sheer reason that it would shunt Jin Guangyao out of the line of succession quicker.

We do know that Mo Xuanyu was present at Golden Carp Tower after Wei Wuxian's death, because Jin Guangyao gave him access to Wei Wuxian's manuscripts on possession:

He had written plenty of these manuscripts back then, all penned on a whim and tossed aside just as easily, scattered all around the cave where he slept in the Yiling Burial Mounds. ... He’d wondered where Mo Xuanyu had learned such forbidden magic. Now he knew. Never in a million years would Jin Guangyao have allowed unimportant people to glimpse the remains of a manuscript on forbidden magic. (Seven Seas Ch. 10)

And although we don't know exactly when Mo Xuanyu was kicked out of Golden Carp Tower, we can infer that it happened before Jin Guangshan's murder, simply because it would make the transfer of power to Jin Guangyao easier without that obstacle in the way. During the events in the Sword Hall of Lotus Pier, after Sisi and Bicao's testimonies, one unnamed cultivator says this:

"He spent the last few years before Jin Guangshan’s death busily clearing the land of his father’s illegitimate sons, for fear that someone would suddenly pop out of nowhere and challenge him for the position. Mo Xuanyu was probably one of the lucky ones. Had he not gone crazy and been booted back home, he would likely have ended up disappearing like the others." (Seven Seas Ch. 19)

This implies that Mo Xuanyu's expulsion from the sect happened at some point before Jin Guangshan's murder, as he would be a potential threat to Jin Guangyao's legitimacy (and have gotten killed) otherwise. However, this cannot exactly be taken as reliable evidence. As Wei Wuxian says about this exchange,

If they’re just rumors, why so quick to believe them? If they’re secrets, how would you even know of them? This was not the first time these rumors had spread. While Jin Guangyao was in power, they had been suppressed so well that no one took them seriously. But tonight, the rumors all seemed to have become hard facts with irrefutable evidence. They became a solid foundation for Jin Guangyao’s multitude of crimes, proving just how unscrupulous he was. (Seven Seas Ch. 19)

So while it's possible that the timeline here is correct, we know that (as established earlier in the books – see Chapter 1) rumors in the world of Mo Dao Zu Shi are unreliable at best and often contradictory. For the purposes of this post, though, I am choosing to assume that this is at least partially true.

So taking the assumptions I've made into account, we know that Mo Xuanyu's time as a Jin disciple could have lasted up to approximately three years, anywhere between directly following Jin Zixuan's death to just before Jin Guangshan's death.

The timeline:

Now that I have a rough estimate of when both characters were present at Golden Carp Tower, I can try to find places where they overlap. Unfortunately, even with all this sleuthing, I cannot say for sure if they were present at the same time. The chance that they just barely missed each other, though, is unlikely.

Given the most generous interpretation of their respective timelines, Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu could have been Jin disciples together for almost three years at maximum. This assumes:

Mo Xuanyu was accepted into the Jin sect almost immediately following Jin Zixuan's death.

Both Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu's expulsions happened soon after one another, within the same year as Jin Guangshan's death.

This means Mo Xuanyu would have been a disciple since before Wei Wuxian died, and that Xue Yang's imprisonment and exoneration happened on a very tight timeline right before Jin Guangshan's death. This is the interpretation that gives both characters as much time to interact as possible.

Given the least generous interpretation, however, Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu just missed each other. This assumes:

The massacre of the Chang Clan happened very soon after Xiao Xingchen descended from the mountain.

Mo Xuanyu's acceptance into the sect happened just before Nie Mingjue confronted Jin Guangyao.

This means that Mo Xuanyu's call to join the sect would have happened in between Xiao Xingchen apprehending Xue Yang and Nie Mingjue confronting Jin Guangyao about it, which is presumably a very short amount of time. This is also the least likely interpretation, as it wouldn't make much sense for Mo Xuanyu to have been accepted so late and during such a controversial period for the sect.

The most likely interpretation is somewhere in the middle: that Mo Xuanyu and Xue Yang were, in fact, Lanling Jin disciples at the same time, but that they did not have much overlap. I believe it is probable that Mo Xuanyu would have been accepted into the sect within a year or so of Jin Zixuan's death, and that the Chang Clan massacre happened at least half a year after Xiao Xingchen descended, meaning the two would have had around a year of overlap between them.

In conclusion, I can say with relative confidence that Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu would have been Jin disciples at the same time. However, I cannot confirm this as canon, as there is not enough evidence available in the books. Therefore, this must be rated as SUPPORTED FANON: the text does not directly state this is true, but it is a distinct and likely possibility.

#mdzs meta #xue yang #mo xuanyu #mo dao zu shi #as always‚ if you have any corrections or comments‚ please don't hesitate to let me know!#this one. might have gotten out of hand a little bit #fanon vs canon #rating: supported #long post

39 notes · View notes