#you want their attention solely on you in a very distinctive way
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I COULD DESTROY THE WORLD FOR YOU !
♱ DOTTORE X AFAB! READER WORD COUNT: 2.4k
♱ SUMMARY : a mere test subject he solely created to satisfy his lustful desires . . . why would he suddenly fall head over heels for something he already acquired?
♱ WARNINGS : SMUT, MDNI. drugging, slight dubcon, praising, degradation, possessive! dottore, whipping, pussy drunk! dottore, sadistic masochistic themes, mirror sex, not proofread.
♱ AN : sorry for being horny + this is my submission for an event collab held by @bluexiao and @anantaru <3
it was eerily silent as you were encompassed by the monotoned, tall, four walls. the glacial temperature traces goosebumps all over your naked skin, feeling somewhat numb until you felt the sudden urge to budge a movement.
a crease between your brows forms as you feel your limbs encaged by some unknown material that was preventing you from moving; that's when it finally sank in your mind to which your messy entangled thoughts release into straight lines. you were being used as a test subject for the doctor, with a project he wanted to do for so long but never got the chance to. it all changes today.
for the record, this was his first attempt. you groggily peel your eyes open to be welcomed by intricate designed ceilings of grayscales colors— what stands tall from both of your sides are numerous rolling cart drawers, each one containing a specific category of equipments to be used by the doctor. a short, fuzzy memory flashes in your mind, the voice was distinct but the image was blurry. a black silhouette forms against the dim lights, "refer to the doctor as my lord or you'll suffer a great consequence." was all you can remember as you were taken away by masked, armed soldiers.
"you're finally awake. i'll be back to check on your statistics." a deep, eloquent voice reverberates inside the quiet vicinity, words spoken with elegance and class. the tread of footsteps from the mysterious person echoes as he takes steps away from your numb body, it slowly dies down the further he got; his figure vanishing quickly. your eyes start to feel heavy as your lids roll down and before you knew it, you doze off into a deep slumber once again.
this time, the glacial temperatures no longer rake shivers running up and down your spine. your eyes flutter open as you were now awoken by the multiple sensations tracing circles on your skin. a hum of acknowledgement sounds, the harbinger picking up the fact that you were awake now. "your sensitivity was indeed heightened. i say from the experiment, i conclude this as a success." you anchor your attention to the bright arctic locks that tumbled way past the male's shoulders, especially narrowing your gaze at his beaked mask composing of neutral colors that covered the top portion of his face. as he does the littlest movements, the glowing aquamarine blue earring dangles towards the direction as well. if you could sum it all up in one word, his character appears bizarre.
"very well, you may sit up straight on your bed now." his husky voice chimes into your ears once again. for some reason, everytime he speaks to you, your body writhes from the chills he sends to your system. wasting no time, you follow suit to his orders and sit, the adamantine bindings previously prohibiting you from budging were now gone. instead, all you had on your body was a sheer white fabric reaching just above your knees. the doctor closes the proximity between your bodies, the point of his mask a mere hair thin apart from your face upon touching. "do you know your purpose? do you know why you're here, at my laboratory, looking rather helpless?" the doctor parts his lips open, strings of questions shooting in a short minute.
you respond, "no, my lord." a raspy chuckle was what you receive in exchange. you were suddenly taken aback as the turquoise haired's gloved hands inches forward your face, tucking your disheveled hair behind your right ear. "you're here for a sole reason. to quench my thirst for carnal desire." the leather gloves trail from your ears down to your neck, the doctor delineates the fine lines carved on your bare skin slowly with a sinister smile tugging on the corners of his lips.
a searing feeling of lust brews in your lower abdomen as his ephemeral touches leave an invisible heating mark on your body. you unknowingly yearn for more and fortunately, he doesn't stop there. his free hand now starts to explore your torso, slender tips fiddling with your now perked up nipples. the sensation was too extreme as he later pinched the very bud in harsh turns, a whimper then escapes from your lips. he twists the part depending on which direction you moan the most on, finding delirium from seeing you in a sticky situation.
"amusing. come on, let me hear a lot more." he expresses, now toying with your mounds with his two gloves hands. the doctor tightly grips your tits as he kneads your soft flesh, his movements were too pleasurable that you could draw a conclusion he's quite skilled at what he does. you bite back a moan daring to slip past anytime now but he was mindful of every little detail of your movements, he picked that up and clicked his tongue. "i told you, let me hear your undignified moans of satisfaction."
"y . . yes . . my lord." you pause in between syllables, now feeling a lukewarm sensation brush along your neck. your hands were unable to keep themselves, it's as if something was urging you to roam your touches on the doctor's body too. with wobbly arms encaging the harbinger's tall stature, there you only realized he wore a thin yet eye-catching garb of clothing, one that is worth of an archon's ransom.
pulling him closer to your heated body, you suppose you didn't commit any act of prying into his boundaries as he only continued to toy with your body freely. the kitty licks he gave your sensitive spot starts to broaden followed by quick, sharp pangs of throbbing pain remaining in the part. your legs flinch from the feeling and a yelp bubbles in your throat, "my lord . ."
dottore withdraws from your body and faces you completely. "entertain me, will you?" his looming figure towers over yours and you gulp the lump forming in your throat. hands still shaking from the sudden tension, you start little by little upon removing his layers of clothing. first was the fluffy coat jacket draped over his shoulders accentuated with snezhnayan's motifs from the dangling steeled chains and diamond shapes adorning it.
stripping each layer of exquisite fabric from the scientist, the feigned bravery you mustered paid well as you see his chiseled pecs and ab muscles tracing lines from his plain white long sleeved button down. you palm his well-sculpted body through the fabric, the lust brimming in your heart starts to make you feel a tad bit lethargic and fuzzy all at the same.
you work your way by unbuttoning his top one by one— the farther that you got, the more you see his fair skin gleam from the bright white lightings. he looked like a masterpiece of madness and beauty that you couldn't help but to adore. a toothy grin creeps up on the doctor's face, "in heat already?" abashedly nodding while averting your gaze to somewhere else, "then stroke my cock so i can finally fill you in."
unzipping his trousers, you could feel the huge bulge on his crotch from his clothed dick brushing past your skin. your cunt starts to throb as you got more access to his erection, finally letting it spring free of restriction. you gather your spit in your mouth in one spot and lubricate your hands with the viscous liquid to coat his twitching cock with.
carefully gliding your hands up and down, you could feel how it was veiny, big and lengthy that you're already imagining how it would feel once you're clamping around him. guttural moans escape dottore's lips as you pump him with two hands at the same time. fingers sloppily curling around his dick, you were taken aback to hear the harbinger swear under his breath, a low, husky one at that.
naughty noises reverberate inside the room the longer your stroked his girth from the crown down to the shaft. as it stands tall and hard before your body, you hear another order from the doctor. "enough. now, lay down on your stomach and stick your ass up like a slut."
once again obeying like a loyal dog to its master, you follow suit with what he tells you to do. you let go of his twitching cock and slowly let yourself feel familiar with the bedsheets and lay there, butt perked up with hands spreading your folds for the doctor's eyes to feast upon. "good girl." he muses and kneels on the small bed frame, positioning himself from your entrance. he pumps himself a couple times as he guides the tip of his dick right into your seeping wet folds. "you like it?" he kept rubbing the head on your pussy with teasing rhythms much to your dissatisfaction.
starting to wiggle your butt to feel more of his dick and create friction, it makes dottore's lust spike up a lot more. "whore." he sternly says as he finally pushes himself in, to which you mewl a lot from the unfamiliar feeling of being filled insides. "my lord!" you whimper once dottore rewards you with powerful thrusts, skin slapping upon his impact. the grasp he had on the plush of your ass was harsh and tight, making sure his hands would leave imprints as proof of posession of his test subject.
as he maintains a painfully fast tempo of pounding, dottore puts plenty of pressure on your lower back to make your stomach fully lay flat on the hospital bed. once finished with setting your body up like how he wants it, he continues to pounce into you like there was no tomorrow. your walls contract everytime he intrudes your slutty hole, clamping around his cock so they could mold into a shape dottore's dick can only fit in. you grip the sheets for dear life as you feel the tip of his dick kiss your cervix, he was far too deep in you that it made you feel light headed.
it aches, but it feels good as well. it feels rewarding to be fucked stupid by an honorable harbinger, the doctor by that. "satisfying results from extortion, i say. now i have a sex doll solely living to satisfy my lustful tendencies."
he revels in the heavenly sight of your now naked body and tight, wet walls. his crisp cerise eyes flicker from the ass of your cheeks bouncing along with his thrusts to your shameful expressions to which he can see by a mirror's reflection placed in front of your lustful bodies. "look at yourself, look at the pathetic faces you've been making." the doctor says as he leans forward, his gloved dominant hand grabbing ahold of your cheeks. his fingers were enormous in size and slender in shape, you could feel your face crush from his grip alone.
he forces you to open your eyes and look at the body length mirror in front of you, hair messy and unkempt, lips smeared with drool and tears from the way dottore has been treating you. somehow, it all felt good, everything felt good.
"i don't regret the lengths i took just to acquire you in my hands at all." amidst the slapping noises bouncing off the walls, you try your best to comprehend his sentences.
you hum even though you could not understand, "your pretty little cunt, your soft tits, your beautiful face i'd love to paint with buckets of my cum— i want to do it so bad to you."
much to your relief, he finally lets go of your chin to let your head rest on the soft cushions again. the intercourse was starting to get rougher judging from the pace dottore has been going at and the degrading words he's telling you. "i don't think i'll be able to let go of you. i don't think i can even share you with my subordinates or my comrades."
he's still continuing to spew his feelings out like he was an open book for the audience meanwhile you were eager to know more what he thinks of you, "hell, i could even destroy the world for you." your eyes although heavy lidded from the lust clouding your consciousness, they widen into two full moons once you hear the very last sentence.
"my lord . ." you pant heavily as moans of pleasure shortly follow, "i'm ahh— u— unworthy of . . . your protection." his solferino irises narrow, the next thing you know: he grabs a spare necktie strewn across the floor earlier and wraps it around his wrist like a madman. he starts to slap your ass cheeks with it. crisp whipping noises blend in with your endless moans of gratification, tears starting to well up in your eyes.
"when i say something, it's of certainty at all times. don't go backing out on me now, after all, you're mine."
you constantly cry out from the mixed feelings of lechery and pain.
"i own you, right?"
mewls and moans could only be heard as he asked, longing for an affirmation from his test's subjects own mouth.
dottore whips you once again with the neck tie, the part starting to grow sore and shades darker from your skin tone. "yes, my lord! you own me."
what he does next catches you rather off guard once he jackhammers into your pussy, gloved hands getting rid of his beak mask. with a blurry vision, you could just see the cold blood red of his eyes glinting from the white lights reflecting from the mirror— "i showed you my face, do you trust me now?"
you answer willingly as your tongue sticks out in dire need of some sort of hydration and company, "yes my lord."
the doctor hums as he sees you gasping for life, "you look like a pathetic thirsty bitch. here, drink some of these." he whips out several glass vials containing unknown colored liquids from his cabinet within his reach. he unscrews the cap and pours all of it on your face, the sticky liquids clings onto your skin but you desperately lick every droplet to ingest.
he watches you brazenly, gaze anchored at your pretty, fucked up features only. shortly after dottore feels his bliss of release coming to which he picks up the pace and pushes into you in an animalistic speed, biting his lower lip to focus and feed you with all of his pent up seed.
white liquids sprawl out on your lower back as he pulls his dick out, neverending strings of cum pooling on your skin. he lets out a demeaning chuckle and gathers all of his cum with his gloved fingers, proceeding to inch toward you and insert his digits into your wet, sticky mouth. "gobble it all up."
"of course my lord." words muffled from his gloved fingers shoved into your mouth, you gulp it all down like a good sex doll would.
#bloru.sweetnspice#dottore smut#il dottore#genshin impact#genshin impact smut#dottore x reader#il dottore x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin harbingers#il dottore smut
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hello! i’m relatively new to your blog but i stumbled across your muichiro and hasira mentor!reader and i fell in love (has been a brainrot of mine for a couple weeks now), i was wondering if you could write a scenario about muichiro getting back from one of his first solo missions and the reader just doting over him and helping him clean up minor wounds, despite knowing he’s capable of doing it himself. (i loved the way your characterized the two in your previous writings <3) thank you! hope you have a lovely day!
the first solo mission's aftermath.
summary. muichiro's first solo mission would be a tough time for both him and his mentor, but when he returns, they are there to dote endlessly on him.
trigger & content warnings. self-doubt, depictions of minor injury.
tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, comfort. muichiro tokito & hashira mentor!reader. 0.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader.
author's thoughts. this post is an expansion of out of all the clouds in the sky, you are my favorite. hello dear!! welcome to my blog, i hope to see you again in my ask box at some point <3 mui requests are always welcomed. hes my beloved son frfr. thank you so so much, any compliments about how i characterize canon characters are very much appreciated! thats one of the highest forms of praise i could get as a writer. it means a lot when people tell me they like the way i write certain characters, so i really do appreciate it!
tbh i think [name] would cry when seeing him off for the first time.
they would try to hold it together solely for muichiro's peace of mind, offering him a shaky smile and, in a trembling voice, wishing him well as he departs from their mansion.
there's no way seeing one's tsuguko off is an easy experience. each hashira surely has to wonder if their respective student will return or not, if they have taught their student well enough, if their first mission will be easy or go terribly wrong.
there's just... so, so many things that could go wrong.
while mui is gone, i think the cloud hashira would sit and nitpick everything they taught him. they'd worry that it wasn't enough. they know he is impossibly strong for his age, but...
strength does not inherently equal experience. a demon slayer can have all the biological advantages that they want, but if they don't have adequate experience, all that strength will mean absolutely nothing.
meanwhile, mui feels a distinct sense of discomfort and unrest after he leaves.
something about leaving doesn't sit well with him. he doesn't want to leave. he wants to go back, or he wants them to come along.
(he does not understand why at the time, but a few years later, he'll begin to understand that he simply didn't want to leave them on the brink of tears like that.)
in the end, though, muichiro returns after only a few days in one piece, completely unharmed except for a few minor scratches.
his face might not change when his beloved mentor immediately brings him into a tight embrace, but the way his body relaxes into their arms is telling enough.
"welcome back, tokito-kun," they'd whisper, cheek pressed to the top of his head.
"...i'm home, [surname]-sama."
home... the implications of that statement would make their heart burst. indeed, he is home if he's with his mentor. if he's with them. they squeeze him just a little tighter after that.
"[surname]-sama, i can't breathe."
"ah?! i'm sorry! sorry, i didn't mean it!"
mui honestly would just let them dote on him.
they'd gently brush his hair and pull it back into a braid, sending a distinct feeling of nostalgia through his foggy mind.
they'd clean his wounds, opting to take him to the butterfly estate if anything seemed wrong or infected.
they'd just dote on him.
he does enjoy the attention and he realizes that it helps them feel better, so... he just lets them do whatever they feel is necessary.
the attention is really comforting for him, though. he's so young. he shouldn't be fighting demons at this age, and yet, he is. [name] knows this.
to make up for it, they spoil him in all the attention someone so young would need to grow properly.
"So... how did your mission go? I suppose it must have gone rather well," they mused with a gentle smile, gingerly flushing a small yet somewhat deep scratch on his cheek with a saline solution that they'd borrowed from those at the Butterfly Estate. "You're hardly hurt."
"Yes. It went fine," he confirmed in a murmur, doing his best not to move in order not to disrupt their work. "...I thought I was fast enough."
"Hm?"
"I thought I was fast enough to avoid being scratched."
"You did your best," they chuckled, securing a small patch over the scratch to keep any bacteria out, "and believe me, this is nothing. The kinds of injuries you can get in this line of work... this is nothing, really. It's fine. Just make sure it doesn't get infected."
Backing away from his face, they looked over their work before nodding firmly. "Alright. I'm done."
Slowly, the boy raised a hand to his cheek, fingertips ghosting over the freshly-dressed wound. Some kind of foreign warmth spread through his chest. He shifted in place, timidly avoiding their eyes. "...Thank you."
"Hehe. Of course." Not a single thing got past them, it seemed. They brought no attention to his sudden embarrassment, however. "Anyways, are you hungry? Kanroji-san invited us to come out with her to this place a few towns over. I hear they're really good."
He simply listened to them ramble, nodding along absentmindedly when they asked for his input.
He liked their voice.
It was comforting.
please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!
#aphelion's headcanons 🌸#: [ the cloud hashira! �� ]#demon slayer headcanons#demon slayer x reader#kny x reader#platonic kny x reader#platonic demon slayer#platonic demon slayer x reader#platonic muichiro x reader#muichiro tokito x reader#tokito muichiro x reader#demon slayer platonic
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A Mammon Analysis Written By A Mammon Kinnie! :8D
It's time to make y'all love this magnificent bastard even more than you already do so we can finally have something just happen in this fandom!
First off, the analysis.
A lot of people seem to think of Mammon as "dumb" or "oblivious", when he's far from either. Mammon is actually a very intelligent and attentive person, but just like most subtle things about him, it can be hard to notice because of his eccentricities.
As far as I see it, Mammon views everything he does as an investment to some extent, whether it be a literal monetary one or one of time, effort and/or attention. This is also one of the big things that make him so relatable to me. It's also worth noting that as a flipside to this, he also sees any option he's presented with in terms of physical or emotional value and trying to maximize said value as much as possible.
Mam doesn't interrupt "Two Minutes Notice" not because he's stupid, but because insults don't truly detract from the value of him or anything he has, not to mention the fact that he could tell that a lot of people would be willing to buy the song, just look how many are hanging of Fizz's every word when he describes having a crappy boss.
Likewise, criticizing Fizz's weight is something Mam solely does because it helps profits and has no genuine personal issue with Fizz potentially getting chunkier.
This shows something else interesting about Mammon, he doesn't really want to do destructive things, people just keep giving him every reason to do so, he's not dangerous on his own.
Every action Mam takes that makes Fizz uncomfortable is a direct result of him catering to what the consumers want, whether it be religiously watching his spokesman's weight for the sake of keeping the skinny sex-bots accurate, or forcing a mentally unstable person to spend a lot of time socializing to get people to pay admission for a meet-&-greet.
There's also the fact that he runs Greed in such a way that benefits Hell as a whole way more than Ozzie and Bee do. Admittedly, he over charges for his products, but said products are up to snuff, you'd expect him to peddle cheap junk that falls apart almost instantly, but no, he makes quality products and just charges extra. He really is a shrewd businessman when you get down to it, and that's something a lot of people have sadly overlooked when discussing our favorite spider.
Which brings me to my next point, Mammon being a spider is actually really clever, assuming what I'm about to describe was intended and not just me reading too much into a cheap Australia joke. Spiders are often shown as eerie and a way of reminding the viewer of a piece of media that nature can be scary, and though they do some really weird and freaky stuff, that's also the beauty of spiders. They have some of the most innovative and distinct hunting patterns in nature, they're more of a neutral presence, just like greed itself.
I've seen many people claim in their analysis of Mammon that "greed can't be good" which is just demonstrably untrue, greed is really just any action that prioritizes bettering oneself, it's only destructive if you are willing to be destructive, but even then it can lead to innovation and broad positive change, even if someone is worse off because of it.
Lastly, I want to discuss Mammon's obvious need for personal affection, the big guy is blatantly touch starved and craves a close connection, I have a rather headcanon-y idea about the origin of this behavior and I plan to link to it once I post about it in detail, but that can wait. However, this does reflect that idea of value and investment, Mam has yet to find someone who is both pleasant for him to be around and whose company has a reasonable "price". I see many possibilities for exploring this facet of his characterization and look forward to seeing the discussion about it grow.
Stay tuned for my HCs and theories about his Stinginess! ALL HAIL MAMMON!
#helluva boss#hellaverse#writing analysis#hb Mammon#helluva Mammon#hellaverse Mammon#Mammonposting#hb Fizzarolli#hb Asmodeus#helluva Fizzarolli#helluva Asmodeus#hellaverse Fizzarolli#hellaverse Asmodeus
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Honeysuckle: Red
afab!reader x Vampire!Eustass Kid
cw: Vampire AU with blood, violence, gore, some very marginally dubious consent, 18+ only
Summary: Vampires are real, and the World Government has ways of maintaining the balance of power and peace between humans and Vampires. Most of it is simple extortion, but one person's desire for freedom threatens to upend the delicate balance and change the world completely.
Tag List: @keiva1000
Chapter 1: Seeing Red
The bright light of the moon is enough to run by, but if you can see, then they can see you. Your feet are steady beneath you, and your breathing is under control. You’d rather find a place to hide and let them wear themselves out, but it’s too bright. You need to keep moving as quickly and as silently as you can.
You weren’t practiced at running through the woods like this, but you had done your best. Immature prisoners like you were ignored most of the day, so you had set up your room as an obstacle course. For ages you had run around in as big a circle as you could, leaping over furniture and exercising for hours a day by the time you felt you were ready.
No one had ever escaped.
No one had ever tried, as far as you knew.
For prisoners, you were treated well. Large living areas, private baths, a steady supply of media and clothing, and you even got to socialize with the others. You were fed well, educated, and cared for. Everything that was needed for a good life was provided.
Everything except freedom.
The one thing you longed for that no book could sate, that no food could dampen, that no drink or promise could dissuade.
You let the moonlight sink into your soul as you ran. You felt your body exalt in the pleasure of running, you reveled in the burn of your lungs, and sting of exertion in your muscles. To move your body and move through the world was a pleasure you hadn’t known until tonight.
Twenty years of life. Two thousand, nine hundred and twenty days of preparations, of secrecy, of duplicity, of tenacity. Eight long years dedicated to a single goal. If you were caught you would never be left unsupervised ever again. It was possible they would disable you so you couldn’t even walk.
Capture was not an option. You would run like this again tomorrow, and the day after, and any day after that when you wanted to. That was the goal.
Freedom meant you would do what you wanted, and if that brought you to the end of your days, then so be it. No one in your position ever died free. They never died young. Protection paid for in blood – a cost and a benefit exchanged without question.
Without consent.
Without freedom.
Moonlight shimmered across the forest floor and the unnatural reflection catches your attention. Smoothed stones, a proper path. The very beginnings of one, but just beyond the thin under brush you could see it.
Veering toward it, you step lightly on the stones. You had mashed mud and clay onto the soles of your shoes long before now. Anything to make you quieter as you ran. You had used the technique to muffle your running in your own room as well, so you hadn’t even needed to adjust when you had ran away earlier.
The thick muck and mud on your shoes wasn’t enough to muffle your steps completely at the stones became more and more well-defined. You slow your steps, choosing silence over speed as the path became more of a path. The tress and underbrush you would’ve used to cover yourself were far too sparse anyway.
The trees pulled back away from the stones and the moonlight washed over you completely. You took in a deep breath. Somehow the pale moonlight felt warm and comforting.
Continuing down the pathway, you realize that the area around you is less wild and more cultivated. Care was being taken with the plants around you, and there was a pattern and conscious decision within the otherwise wild appearance.
The conscious decision left you with the distinct impression that visitors were not welcome.
With no signs or other warnings however, you had little reason to turn away. Hopefully, those who still pursued you, if there were any left, would assume you to be turned away by such a reception. You hadn’t heard anything behind you for some time, and you imagined that those who were after you hadn’t expected you to be physical able of getting very far.
The pathway became so smooth and well maintained it was almost like walking through the marble halls of the facility. It was a darker material, but it glinted and glimmered in the bright moonlight like pieces of black glass. The hard surface had knocked most of the mud and muck from your shoes and there were soft clicks as you approached the gate.
Agony and torture seemed to be the words for the gate, large twisted beams of metal that were functionally capable of being decorated with bodies. At least, you assume so, given the terrible hooked ends, and the blackened metal that seemed to suck the moonlight into it, instead of reflecting it.
Despite the gruesome appearance, it took barely a finger to swing the well-balanced gate open, and you step through.
The manor before you was as intimidating as everything else you had come across, but there was something oddly welcoming in that intimidation. The facility that you grew up in had been designed as a lure, and its allure was driven into every fine detail. Beautiful threads woven about the captives within, fine lines of shimmering webbing, more trap than trappings.
By comparison, this place was refreshing in its honesty.
Neither manor nor land wanted you to be near it, and it was likely one of the most dangerous places you could’ve stumbled upon. There were no servants moving about, but the land was well-tended, and the manor was nearly immaculate in the moonlight. As you approached the doors you realized that a place like this would need a small army to keep it maintained.
It was not the home of a Celestial Dragon, and no Noble would build a house so aggressively against visitors. You knew the name of the beast whose home you were stepping into, and you found yourself relieved.
You knock on the door, stretching to your tip toes to reach the heavy cast iron knocker that rattled the door when it slipped from your fingers. Seconds slip into minutes, and you feel yourself uncomfortable with how exposed you suddenly feel. Trying the door knob you find it’s not locked, and push the door in, peeking your head inside.
“Hello?” You hear your voice bounce off the walls you can’t see, and step inside tentatively. “I’m – I’m sorry to intrude, but, well, I don’t have much of a choice.”
Stepping inside you close the door behind you, staying near the entrance as you let your eyes adjust to the interior. There were no lights inside, at least none that reached where you were. The darkness was unsettling in its own way, but you felt safer inside than you did outside. You took the time to clean the bottom’s of your shoes off, no matter what happened, it seemed unwise to track mud through someone else’s home.
The time you needed to clean your shoes allowed the trickle of moonlight from outside reflected into the manor’s interior and reach your eyes. It was soft and subtle and it took many long minutes before you manage to adjust to the diffused light. The outlines of furniture, walls, doors and stairs began to fill your vision, though if you looked around too quickly it all blurred together easily.
Taking a few tentative steps away from the doors and deeper into the hall, you looked around. Nothing moved, and aside from you, nothing breathed. Your own heart was a orchestra in your chest, and you had to slow your breathing to force it to calm down. You wanted to be able to hear, especially since your vision was so limited, and your nervous heart wasn’t helping.
“Hello? Um, again?” Your voice is barely a whisper in the silent hall, your shoes clicking thunderously loud no matter how softly you stepped. “I’m really sorry to bother you.”
Your stomach knots, but you press a little further in, turning toward a room that looks like it’s designed to accept guests. You can make out a couple couches facing one another, a coffee table between them, the shifting shape of a fireplace beyond that.
“I could really use a place to hide. J-just for a night… or day… perhaps?” You know you’re practically rambling now, but the sound of your own voice softens the sheer emptiness of the dark manor, and it’s the closest thing to comforting you have available right now.
Your fingers slip along the edges of a smallish box, and you recognize the rough sensation on one side of the box. Picking it up and sliding it, you find several long match sticks. Just enough length to light the fireplace.
“I apologize for using one of your matches without permission.” You say softly, running the match against the strike pad and flinching at the hiss and burst of light.
The small flame was enough to illuminate the room you were in, bringing relief to your straining eyes as the sucked in all the light they could, and all the details available.
There was nothing lacking in this room. The fireplace was intricately carved, detailed scenes etched and pulled from wood and metal, the shiver of the flame seemed to bring them to life. All sorts of mythical creatures dancing along the flowing and smooth vines that were woven between them. Faeries, beasts, dragons, and unicorns spun together.
You run your fingers over the work lightly, and there’s some part of you that’s sure there’s a story begin told, but you’re not familiar with it enough to even try to guess. Hopefully you would have the opportunity to ask later.
Walking around the room is enough to make you relax. The appearance of what you can see looks normal, if not a little expensive. It’s elegant, and well thought out, not too different from the effort put into the landscaping you saw on your way here. While that had the intent of turning unwanted people away, this felt far more inviting.
A reward, maybe, for making it this far.
“Congratulations, you made it past the scary garden, have some tea.” You mutter to yourself.
“Heh.”
You freeze at the sound. Your entire body is on edge, every sense you have reaching out into the dimly lit room. The match is coming down to its final moments, and something about that realization makes you wonder if you are as well.
The hairs on the back of you neck prickle, and you can feel a strange sensation roll through you. A physical response to the realization that someone was behind you.
There’s a short gust of air and the match is blown out.
Something pulls it gently from your fingers as you press your lips together. Closing your eyes for a moment you let out a shivering gasp, barely a wisp of air in it, and turn to look behind yourself. Plunged into darkness again, your eyes could barely make out any details of the room, and frantic memory was all you had.
Facing the presence behind you, you looked up.
Two red eyes, blood-red and bright, gaze back at you. The light from their depths was neither inviting nor comforting. The moon itself seems to light the toothy grin that splits across the creature’s face as it regards you.
The was the master of this house. Perhaps the true master of the entire island, allowing the marines and the facility you fled to exist by some strange sense of boredom and little else.
Your education within the facility was lacking in many ways, but you knew enough to know what loomed over you right now.
Vampire.
“…Shit.”
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BSD Rewatch Ep2
In episode 2, near the beginning, Dazai says something interesting after stating that the other ADA members didn't pay much attention to his barrel suicide antics:
"Anyone gifted with supernatural powers has something wrong with them inside…"
I've seen speculation by others in the fandom that Abilities come from some kind of trauma. I'm not saying this is any kind of confirmation of that speculation, but it is an interesting statement that he throws out there.
Could also refer to the idea that having an Ability eventually twists a person in some way - having power, having something weird with you, etc, can change a person. Being clearly different from others and from other Ability users (usually, it seems no 2 Abilities are similar), an Ability user is a lonely person with unique experiences that cannot be shared by anyone else. No two Gifteds can see the world the same way. And it is virtually impossible to share the impact one's Ability has on a person or forces them to experience.
And interestingly, later on in the episode, Tanizaki repeats Dazai's statement, "I swear, anyone gifted with supernatural powers has something wrong with them inside…"
So this isn't just a random statement…
From Tanizaki's POV as the 'bomber' enemy, clearly his take is that Ability users are unnatural freaks who can cause problems (he's there for 'revenge' after all). Although the stance of the public is rather unknown in BSD, this shows that there is at least some sentiment floating around that Ability users are some kind of mutant, unnatural form of humanity. Maybe not even human.
The fact that we learn a little bit about an 'Ability War' - some war possibly fought against Ability Users (or is it with and not against Ability Users?) - as well as the government's elite Hunting Dog team meant to hunt down and kill Ability users like they are rabid dogs, and even the government's Special Ability Department, meant to track and handle 'rogue' Ability users and the issues they cause - this all points to a pervasive distrust of Gifteds. At the very least from the government side, even if we never really see what the public thinks of them.
Having such sentiment plied on one from outside means one can possibly begin to believe it.
I'd say it's a thread that isn't really taken anywhere later on in the series - and it's NOT baked into the makeup of what we are exposed to as daily life in the BSD universe - but the major enemy of the series, Fyodor, very much believes this. So this is very much foreshadowing.
I'd just appreciate it if we could see more of this in the world building instead of having it relegated solely to plot moments.
And furthermore, it's interesting (admittedly jokingly), but at the end of the episode, Dazai says that were Atsushi not to join the ADA, he's a wanted tiger (despite the legal distinction between a murderer and a proven plea of insanity, which would be a parallel) and he would at best be fired, at worst captured and shot. Despite being a human being, who, even as a tiger, has not even harmed another human. Perhaps Dazai means that in his tiger form, he'd inevitably be shot rather than as a human, but. That still throws a bit of light on the idea that Ability Users are an exception to a normal treatment of a human being.
#bungou stray dogs#bsdrewatch2023#bungou stray dogs meta#ep2#Honestly I was wondering if I would even have anything to contribute since I don't tend to rip out pieces to espouse on like everybody else#But it's interesting that everyone tends to key on different aspects for different reasons
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"Look, she's well steep."
Character Name: Montgomery “Three-Card Monty” Barker
Fandom: Realms of Peril & Glory (@realmspod), Liminal London campaigns [Podcast]
Played By: Naomi Clarke (@naomithinksit)
Yarn Used:
Hair: CraftSmart Value - Toasted Almond
Skin: CraftSmart Value - Taupe
Birthmark/Mouth: Caron Lava Cakes - Sour Cherry
Tracksuit: Red Heart Super Saver - Spring Green
Zipper: CraftSmart Value - Heather Grey
Shoes: CraftSmart Value - Tomato
Soles: CraftSmart Value - White
Basic pattern here.
Monty, our beloved chicken nugget wizard. I fell in love with this kid pretty much from the moment I heard him (him being Naomi’s creation helped with that) and he’s just…adorable. And after Episode 4 of Loose Change (the fourth mystery), Great Googly Mooglies, that boy needs all the hugs. I hauled ass to get him finished in time for Episode 5 (I am writing this paragraph prior to actually finishing him, so we’ll see if I manage since it’s, uh, Sunday night). [Crafter’s note: I did not. I finished him two weeks later, in time for Episode 7.] He differs from the base pattern as follows:
Shoes: I actually used a different color for his soles this time! Like with Joseph’s, I did the soles in white, then switched to red for the body of the shoes. However, I did use white for the decreases at the toes in the first round of decreasing the shoes to give that white toe cap that’s so distinctive on Converse and Converse knockoffs (per Naomi, everything Monty owns is a knockoff). I also added an extra round of decreases to make longer flat tops to the shoes and skinnier ankles. The shoes went up to R9 like that, and then:
R10: Ch 1, sc in front loops of first 5 sc, sl st in next 2 sc, sc in next 5 sc, sl st in first sc (12 sc).
Tracksuit: I asked on the Light & Tragic Discord, and Naomi was kind enough to inform me that Monty wears high-tops and tucks the hem of his tracksuit into them. I also wanted the pants to have a kind of baggy effect. So once I joined the tracksuit yarn, I chained 2, then did 2dc in the back loop of the first sc in R9, then dc in the back loop of the next 10 sc in R9, then 2dc in the back loop of the final sc in R9, sl st in first dc (15dc). I then continued as normal. I used the same method for his shirt as I did for Joseph and Gerry, just a bit higher up when I started the hemline. I also formed his torso the same way as I did Gerry’s—square most of the way up and then starting the decreases at the very end. Neither of these decisions were intentional, I just wasn’t paying attention to how many rounds I’d done.
For the zipper, I tied three knots on top of one another to make a zipper pull, then embroidered in straight lines up and down either side of the zipper track before doing a cross stitch up the middle.
Head: Naomi said in S4E5 that Monty “had one of those big birthmarks” and I knew I had to include it. I didn’t really plan the defined edges of the birthmark, just changed color back and forth as seemed appropriate. Came out a bit Ziggy Stardust, but you know, it’s Monty. I also used safety eyes for him again. Think I put them in too far up too soon, because stitching around them was a pain in the ass, but it worked out.
Hair: I, uh. Forgot to start adding his hair in as low as I usually do, so his hairline is a bit higher in the back than normal, which is one of the reasons there are no pictures from behind, the other being that for some reason the seam got really jagged up the back (I’m guessing I wasn’t counting carefully enough and my joins got off). I’d meant for him to have a textured stitch to his hair, but I got to that point while I was away from home and didn’t have my book with all the stitches in it with me, so I improvised. I gave him a fun little swoosh of hair at the front. Turns out I was overcomplicating things with Hux’s and Mini’s hair. There’s a legitimate stitch called the hair stitch or fur stitch that does exactly what I was trying for on them with significantly less stress, so I used that here for Monty. Gives him kind of a cheeky look and I love it.
Arms: I used the same method I used for Joseph. I only stuffed up to R20 so he would have a little more flexibility in the shoulders.
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five FUCKING am and i am too busy being autistic about alec vasil to sleep. aisha & alec is a fucking nuts good character dynamic to just Casually Slide Into The Background. and the thing that’s REALLY fucked up and evil about it is that it genuinely would not work any other way. their narrative would not Work if they were not constantly in the narrative background because they as people are defined by being in the background. alec is traumatized in this very specific way that means he’s fully aware he doesn’t really know how to be a person like everyone else. he’s fully aware that something fundamental everyone else has was taken from him long ago. so despite the fact that he dresses incredibly ostentatiously, that he loves being pampered, that he wears a little crown, that his power is at its most fundamental level the ability to force other people to obey and prioritize him, he intentionally makes himself a background character in other ppl’s lives. because on some level he knows that if he Doesn’t, if anyone pays too much attention to him, they’re going to notice that he is incredibly fucked up and has just been ad-libbing his way through trying to be a vaguely decent-ish person distinct from the gaping soul-wound the first thirteen years of his life left him with.
and then you have aisha, whose. (okay my aishanalysis is still somewhat unformed but i Will pay even more attention to her and conduct some proper Scientific Aisha Studies on my upcoming reread.) but anyway then you have aisha, whose life has been defined by either being ignored and dismissed or targeted with entirely the wrong kind of attention. her defense mechanism is that Nobody Fucking Notices her, and her biggest problem is also that Nobody Fucking Notices her. she’s in a constant struggle between the trauma-induced tendency to very literally make herself disappear by default and between the fact that she Wants to be noticed, she wants to have people who pay enough attention to her & care about her enough to give her autonomy, she wants to have people who see her as her instead of as an object of annoyance or desire. and despite the fact that nearly everything she does is a simultaneous cry for both attention and autonomy, she still ironically fades into the background, constantly dismissed by those around her as an irritation just in the way enough to be occasionally noticeable.
and like. they do both stay in the background for pretty much the entire story. aisha develops significantly more than alec because she didn’t get fucking smote, but none of the circumstances that led to their background positions ever change enough for taylor to get a full grasp on what either of them are like beyond their roles in the peripheral of her life. she sees aisha as an annoyance to rein in. when alec dies and aisha says that “the best part of him would have killed his dad, too,” taylor not only doesn’t understand what she means, but dismisses the idea without a second thought. it’s taylor’s story and they’re just living in the background of it.
but. despite the fact that they are background characters and they Remain background characters. they do find each other. boy who is intentionally side-charactering himself so that no one notices how fucked up he is meets girl who really does not want to be a side character but is anyway, and they see each other in a way no one else sees them. they spend vast portions of the text connecting in the background, with that connection alluded to only through one-off lines and sparsely connected details. and that connection does eventually become so important that it results in something extreme enough for everyone else to notice--alec killing himself for the slightest chance that aisha might live--but the events leading up to the moment alec steps out of the peripheral for aisha? never explicitly detailed, only alluded to. there’s the outline of a love story going on there and it’s kept private solely because no one cared enough to watch. there were parts of alec that only aisha saw and there are parts of aisha that only alec has seen, and isn’t that beautiful? but the only reason that’s true is because nobody else ever saw either of them, and isn’t that fucking tragic?
genuinely fucking deranged character dynamic. background pairing defined explicitly and entirely by the fact that it’s In The Background. i am So mad that we never get to yank the curtain back and find out precisely what was going on back there, and i’m equally obsessed w/ the fact that we’re forced to just watch their shadows thru the curtain instead, because both of them are characters defined by the fact that the curtain is there in the first place.
(obligatory endnote i say ‘love story’ but ‘love’ is not an inherently romantic word etc etc. when taylor says she doesn’t know if it’s romantic or platonic but they’re Together, that’s true. i have my own takes on what mix of romantic and platonic their relationship is but the only part that’s really important is that they’re Together. as per usual, the details are kept solely between the two of them.)
#worm#head in my hands jesus christ. this is probably incoherent but now that i've expelled it from my brain maybe i can go to bed#i am going to put alec vasil and aisha laborn in the microwave of my brain and cook on high and watch them rotate#The Shitheads
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Could you review the polywag line?🐸
Poliwag is pretty darn fun. It's pretty instantly recognizable with the black swirl on its underbelly, which is a nod to the swirl-shaped intestines of some real-life tadpoles.
The eyes are adorable, the little mouth adds some color, and the heavy black and white contrast of the underbelly really helps to draw attention right to the swirl. It's a pretty simple design, but it works very well.
Also, pointless fun fact: Poliwag here is Satoshi Tajiri's (the guy who created Pokemon) favorite Pokemon. He has good taste!
Poliwhirl... did not need to exist. It's got a few unique elements—namely the mitten-like hands, which ironically did have fingers in its earliest sprites—but overall, it doesn't feel like it brings anything to the table that Poliwrath doesn't. Poliwrath and Poliwag don't look overly dissimilar, so you could've just jumped straight from point A to B and not lost anything. Poliwrath's original design, discussed below, might've justified it's existence a little more, but only a little.
That said, it looks perfectly fine. The "gloves" help accent the white underbelly, and it loses the mouth entirely—a change I really love, as it really works to just imply a mouth around the underbelly area without literally showing it. I also like that the swirl changes direction as a subtle thing. All of these changes are also present on Poliwrath however, so nothing still would've been lost by just skipping this stage.
(Side note: I think it's neat that Poliwhirl uses its swirl for hypnosis, even though it doesn't go anywhere. Guess they figured they didn't need another hypnosis 'mon with Hypno already running around this gen.)
Poliwrath is a pretty neat evo. I like that it's more of a larger, more aggressive tadpole than a regular frog, and once again, the lack of mouth and gloves are welcome additions to Poliwag's design. I also like the overall body shape, which reflects its fighting-typing and is a bit distinct from either of its pre-evos.
My sole complaint is that I wish the swirl had the same bean-like shape that the underbelly now has; the circular shape leaves too much white space on the edges and a weird tension point at the top. Also, I do wonder if the feet could've also been white just for the sole purpose of differentiating it from Poliwhirl a bit more.
Speaking of which, Poliwrath originally looked more like a goofy king than anything even remotely menacing, sporting a crown and white feet (or maybe just the undersides are white? hard to tell). According to the creators, this design was scrapped for "looking too weak", which is understandable. Ultimately the design we got was the better of the two anyway, even if this has its own charm.
Oh, and Politoed also Exists. Not gonna lie, I consistently forget it's a part of this line, though I'm not sure why—maybe it's the sudden, jarring color change, maybe it's the lose of the black swirl, or maybe it's just that it's a much more generic frog than the weird semi-tadpoles we had previously. I don't dislike it or anything, but it does feel like it looses all of my favorite elements from the previous stages.
(Little blue edit, mostly to satisfy my own curiosity)
Also, it doesn't really add anything to the line. It does have a vague "king" theme, possibly as a nod to Poliwrath's beta, but it's only really made clear though its evo method and 'dex.
I will say that Politoed is pretty cute however, keeping the same eyes as Poliwag, and its definitely appealing to those who just want a more straightforward frog. It's also kind of neat how it now feels like the line either finally metamorphoses or doesn't depending on the final evo you pick. Also, the way the swirl on the stomach is integrated into the head hair is fun as well. Overall, it's pretty decent, but I do think it would've been better off as its own Pokemon.
Politoed also has a beta, and in all honesty, I kind of like this design better? The black swirl is retained more clearly, but it also has a more abstract body shape that's still plenty frog-like while more closely resembling the rest of its line. I also love the expression; what a smug little creature. Like i said, what we got wasn't bad, but this definitely has a certain charm to it as well.
So, to summarize: Poliwag is charming and Poliwrath is a pretty good evo, but Poliwhirl is mostly redundant. Politoed is a nice option for those who want something more frog-like, but ultimately feels fairly disconnected from the rest of the line and probably could've just been its own thing. Regardless, it's an enjoyable group of 'mons.
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Sableye Care Guide
About
Sableye is a charming and highly intelligent pokémon with an unfortunate reputation that leaves it far from prospective trainer's minds when thinking about what pokémon to take on. This may be for the best, as sableye is also very needy and requires a high level of attention and specialized care to thrive living with humans. Future sableye trainers should take some time to consider if they can keep up with the intellectual and dietary needs of this puckish species as the very first step into getting one.
Why to Train One
Sableye are loved by trainers for their distinct personalities and playful nature. Trainers best suited for a sableye are ones who want a pokémon they can spend a lot of time with and on. Sableye will also make sure you are never bored, with their love for tricks and penchant for getting into s̲h̲a̲r̲e̲-̲w̲o̲r̲t̲h̲y̲ c̲o̲m̲e̲d̲i̲c̲ ̲s̲i̲t̲u̲a̲t̲i̲o̲n̲s̲.
What to Know
Sableye, for all their charm and personality, are also very strong-willed. They are not likely to bond well with a trainer who has not caught them themselves, and so unless you are going spelunking with a supply of Pokéballs, trainers are advised to look into adopting sableye when they are more mature so you can find one with a personality that meshes with yours. Sableye also do not get along well with other pokémon or small children, though if they are respectful enough of the sableye's space and independence they can come to appreciate having a play partner more their speed.
Another big challenge that trainers have to be ready for is the scratching. Sableye are natural tunnelers and love to search for nothing in peticular, and with claws equipped to scrape through stone there is not much yo can do to scratch proof your house. Getting a high resistance s̲c̲r̲a̲t̲c̲h̲ ̲s̲t̲a̲n̲d̲ or a t̲u̲n̲n̲e̲l̲i̲n̲g̲ ̲g̲a̲r̲d̲e̲n̲ and engaging your sableye's curiosity are good ways to prevent this, but it is inevitable in any home with one to find claw marks on the furniture or walls.
If your sableye is despondent or spends most of its time sulking around, this isn't the same red flag for poor care that it is with other pokémon. Instead, a sableye will start acting out if it is bored or uncomfortable. An increase in destructive tendencies, the stealing of items (especially ones it recognizes as valuable to you) and hiding them in its nest, and an increase in pranks that feel mean spirited or targeted are a sure indicator that you are doing something wrong and need to examine how you are meeting your pokémon's needs. It is also vital to learn the difference between a g̲r̲i̲n̲ and a g̲r̲i̲m̲a̲c̲e̲ so your sableye can communicate to you when it finds a situation uncomfortable.
Habitat and Enrichment
Unlike some finicky expert level care pokémon, a sableye will actually do well in an average home if it is outfitted for one. Sableye do not need frequent changes of scenery and can do well in small spaces so long as they have the freedom to move around as they please. Trainers are advised to make use of the vertical space in their homes, installing towers, climbing courses and bridges to facilitate your pokémon's gallivanting.
Important to keeping a sableye is light level. It is a common mistake to make that sableye are solely nocturnal, instead, in their natural habitat they are active as they see fit but on the surface are only comfortable moving about late at night when it's dark. Because of this, homes with lots of large windows, fluorescent lighting, or other bright light sources and not many dark areas are not advised for sableye. Ideally, you should have at least one room with low to limited daily light so the sableye can feel comfortable moving around as it needs. Connected to this space should be an area, a closet is a common choice, with no windows that can be totally dark at all times for the sableye to always have access to in which you can keep its c̲r̲a̲t̲e̲, h̲u̲t̲c̲h̲, or n̲e̲s̲t̲.
Controversial as they are to some, the pokéball is a vital part of raising pokemon in the modern environment. While sableye are not as needy as some species when it comes to specific models, for the reasons listed above it will be best for your sableye if you capture it in a d̲u̲s̲k̲ ̲b̲a̲l̲l̲, or transfer it to one as soon as possible.
As mentioned above, sableye are a pokémon with a high penchant for play that ask a lot of time of their trainer. They are very tricky, so expect lots of pranks! Sableye are not easily distracted by toys, so it is suggested that trainers set time aside each day to sit down with their sableye and play with it directly. Interactive toys and games like f̲e̲a̲t̲h̲e̲r̲ ̲w̲a̲n̲d̲s̲ or fetch are popular, but mental stimulation is also a must for their wellbeing. Introducing them to new objects will satisfy your sableyes curiosity, and t̲o̲d̲d̲l̲e̲r̲ ̲t̲o̲y̲s̲ that are designed to be eye-catching and engaging will definitely be a hit. To encourage your sableye's foraging instinct, I advise teaching them to associate a particular toy or set of toys with hide and seek, and hiding those toys between common hiding spots and new hiding spots intermittently. One of the benefits of a pokémon that eats gems is that hidden treats won't stink up the house if you forget them!
Diet
Diet is a huge and sadly common mistake for first-time sableye trainer to make. Not without reason, because a sableye absolutely cannot live on a diet of standard Pokéchow and in fact should not be given any beyond an infrequent treat basis. Sableye's preferred diet is crystalline gemstones from which it draws vital nutrients. This is often the most intimidating step into getting a sableye for more knowledgable trainers, as the amount of s̲a̲b̲l̲e̲y̲e̲-̲s̲p̲e̲c̲i̲f̲i̲c̲ ̲c̲h̲o̲w̲ brands is limited and pricey. What's important to know is that sableye is not dependent on rare gemstones, and instead the bulk of its diet is made up of those that are abundant and thusly, cheap (with the high pricetag of sableye-chows relying on you not understanding this and being willing to dish out for ''expensive'' gemstones). Quartz is relatively common, but a mixture of g̲a̲r̲d̲e̲n̲ ̲g̲r̲a̲v̲e̲l̲ you can buy from any hardware store and chunks of glass will make an excellent kibble-like fare. If you are squeamish about feeding your pokémon broken glass sand is a nutritiously sufficient replacement, but know that sableye have trouble identifying anything as food if it is not a recognizable as crystal and are very likely to dislike the texture. It is important to supplement with actual gemstones to ensure a healthy mineral mix, though if this is out of your financial reach you can substitute with a̲l̲u̲m̲i̲n̲u̲m̲, i̲r̲o̲n̲, s̲o̲d̲i̲u̲m̲, m̲a̲g̲n̲e̲s̲i̲u̲m̲, L̲i̲t̲h̲i̲u̲m̲, and p̲h̲o̲s̲p̲h̲o̲r̲o̲u̲s̲ supplement powders mixed into your homemade chow.
#sableye#pokemon#irl pokemon#pokeblogging#pokeblr#pkmn#pokemon care guide#irl pkmn#pokemon irl#pkmn irl
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@bygone-eras / @heart-of-corundum
There's this distinct humming sound whenever the house gets unlocked, some kind of primordial echo that rumbles through the entire building, ancient mechanical warbling to call to attention that someone has returned to the nest. It's a rare sound these days, one could easily mistake Tyler for being the sole inhabitant. Even though she had her own business, more often than not, she was usually the only one home.
Today she's in the kitchen, it's eight o'clock at night, and she's just realized she hasn't eaten dinner. Saint isn't home, or wasn't—that's him now, it's got to be—the door is opening and someone's heavy footfalls echo through the foyer. She can hear them, all the way in the kitchen.
She quickly plucks the pancakes off of the griddle before they burn and goes to greet him.
She rounds the corner with a quick, "Hey!" She's excited to see him, but she knows he's tired more often than not, these days. Something about his father. Something about unfinished business.
She stops short about two feet away from him, because he looks so much paler than normal and there's a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, and suddenly Tyler comes to wonder just how he managed to get back to the house in this condition. She really, really hopes he doesn't fall, because if he does, she won't be able to catch him. "You okay?"
Saint nods. "Yeah, I'm fine."
I doubt that. She doesn't say that, though. "I um—I made dinner. I didn't know when you were coming home, but..." he brushes past her, towards the hallway that would take him upstairs, up to empty, unoccupied rooms and away from her.
"I'm not really hungry."
"Oh. Okay."
He disappears into the hallway. Tyler makes to go back to the kitchen when he calls out, "what did you make?"
"Um—breakfast for dinner...?" She feels silly saying it. It's the sort of thing a child would say, breakfast for dinner, a chorus of excited shouts and nonstop jumping before being shushed by an older hand, quiet, quiet, you'll wake everyone else up. Pancakes and scrambled eggs and crispy bacon, if you were lucky. And she happens to be very lucky, because now she can have all of those things, and more, if she really wants to.
Silence follows for a moment before she receives a response. "I'll eat when I get out of the shower. Okay?"
"Okay!"
More silence. She moves towards the kitchen again right as he asks her, "could you lock the door for me?"
"Yeah!"
There’s a lock on the front door keyed to Saint’s aether. It’s keyed to her own as well, so she could lock and unlock it at will. It's what makes the mechanical hum, the thing that wakes the house and puts it back to sleep, bolted and shuttered. He tried explaining the mechanism behind it, some ancient Allagan tech far more advanced than anything she’s seen in her life, but she understood maybe half of what he was saying, if she were lucky. It works because it knows her, just like his motorcycle works because it knows him. She begged him more than once to let her on it, to let her drive it, but when she sits on the seat it was as good as dead. Tyler waves her hand across the small lock and it responds in kind, sealing the house. He never did key her to his motorcycle. Something about her not being old enough.
Tyler thinks if she gets any older she might die.
She left the stove on and unattended, Mahlu might kill her for that. She was going to go back to it, but that doesn't make her leaving it in the first place any less of a risky mistake. She could've burnt the house down. Mahlu or a house fire, either is a pretty bad way to go; but better than dying at the hands of her brother.
The look in Saint's eyes is similar to her own. That far-off cloudy stare, not really focused, just barely there at all. Some world-weary gaze that never truly goes away, that's revealed in a mirror at the end of the day when you think you're finally fine. It gets worse when the going gets worse. Something about a father. Something about unfinished business.
Tyler tries to busy herself with finishing dinner.
He comes back before she's entirely finished. Incredible timing on the part of the universe.
"I'm almost done," she tells him.
"Okay." Hair still wet, wine red hair made darker by all the water still clinging to it. He sits at the bar top and waits for her to be done.
Silence stretches between them. They got into a screaming match in the middle of Kugane once. She doesn't remember the whole of it, but she remembers what started it—some talk about him being an impeccable bastard and her getting tired of it and telling him he was wrong. Because he was wrong. There was some yelling before they decided to make up and go eat like they had originally planned, but dinner that night had been full of loaded silence and stilted requests for someone to pass whichever sauce or spice they wanted on their ramen.
It's not quite like this silence, but it's close. What has father and unfinished business done to make him like this—pale and shaky, partaking in silence that was wholly un-Saint-like. Not that being silent wasn't in-line with his behavior usually, it's just... the wrong kind of silence. This wasn't comfortable. This isn't something she could exist in. Not for long.
Despite this, she tries to be cheerful. She serves dinner with a smile. They eat in silence, side-by-side.
What kind of nonsense does his father have him doing that could do this? Her wonderings call to mind images of her own brother, of his hands that slapped and feet that kicked. Of his experiments, and the strange non-space she seemed to inhabit afterwards, that conscious-non-consciousness, wandering without aim. Nothing had seemed real, walking through a dream until she came back to herself with shattering clarity.
“I’m not stupid, you know.” She’s not thinking, it just comes out, like when she screamed at him in Kugane.
A sigh. The clatter of metal against porcelain as he sets his fork down. “I know you’re not stupid, Pigtail.”
“If there’s something going on, you can tell me.” He doesn’t want to involve her, because it’s dangerous, as if she hasn’t faced danger before. She’s not a child, and she’s not naïve either. She’s his friend and sister and truth be told she hates the idea of being left out, even if it is dangerous and it could be risky and she doesn’t know all the gorey details. She just wants to help—she could help, she could— “you’re the only person I’ve got left, you know. I want to help you.”
She looks over at him, sitting right next to her. Their arms were just inches apart, but it might as well have been miles. He feels so far away. He looks so tired.
"You are helping."
It doesn't feel like it. It feels like she sits uselessly in this house, uselessly doing leves, going about her business while some sinister shit goes on right under her nose. She knows sinister shit. Her brother used to do it too.
He looks so tired.
"Tyler," she's afraid he actually might be pleading. "C'mon..."
She bites her lip. "You wanna play majong or something after dinner?"
That gets her a smile. "Yeah, sure."
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LITTLE MUSE FACTS.
Instructions: fill out the questions about your muse, repost, and tag as many people as you want!
1) What does your muse smell like?:
Unnaturally clean -- the type of clean you normally only associate with doctor's offices. Underneath all of the Very Sterile Clean, however, you might catch a few notes of lavender.
2) How often does your muse bathe/shower?:
Regularly, at least once per day. Many times, the areas she's working with need to be kept sterile -- and the items (organic or otherwise) she may interact with could become dangerous, if exposed to for too long.
3) Does your muse have any tattoos or piercings?:
None at all. Her fur is too thick to be able to apply tattoos, and piercings were never something she had much interest in -- aside from being capable of recognizing that they could have uses, whether it be denoting status or appealing to a specific aesthetic. In any case, tattoos are often seen as unprofessional, and the longer earrings that she would otherwise prefer could potentially be a workplace hazard. Neither are particularly appealing to her, for such reasons.
4) Any body movement quirks? (EX: tapping heel, shaking knee)”
When she's particularly focused on something or someone, her tail will swish from side to side. Unfortunately, this is paired with her staring almost unblinking for a long period of time. It's more-so a lack of any particular body movement quirks that's more unsettling. One's body movements and stature may reveal something about their personality or the way they are feeling in the moment, however -- so perhaps it's fitting that she more often than not shows a distinct lack of anything.
5) What do they sleep in?:
She normally changes into a nightgown to sleep in. Her Egg Boss outfit is put into a sterilizing cleaner in order to have it ready for another day. In the event that the outfit becomes damaged, depending on what has damaged it, she either destroys it or (in the event that it was during a battle, and blood got on the outfit -- it also depends on how significant the blood is) samples may first be collected, and then the outfit is destroyed. Luckily, she has multiple of them.
6) What’s their favorite piece of clothing?:
Though she does follow the dress code required of all "Egg Bosses," she does have something akin to a preference for more dress-like articles. Of course, they have no place in a laboratory regardless, so she would not wear them within its confines even if she were allowed to.
One that she has a particular "preference" for is a two-piece outfit. A low-cut-top dress that splits at the hip, with an small sash around the waist that connects with a magically-charged gem. A long-sleeved collar is worn over top, the collar being similarly clasped together with another gem. The aesthetic is more arcane than scientific, but the higher level of elegance strikes something deep within her.
7) What do they do when they wake up?:
There isn't anything particularly special about her morning routine. She wakes up, eats breakfast, brushes her teeth, gets dressed, and starts her day. It's only at this point that there is any amount of variety -- and solely because it depends on what she has been tasked with, if anything at all. If she has any tasks to complete, she does so promptly. If she has nothing in the labs to keep her otherwise occupied, she may go to collect samples or check on other sectors of the Empire -- ensure that they are acting and working to the standard that is expected of them. Those that aren't are swiftly dealt with. Otherwise, she may spend her day in her wing of the labs, attending to any experiments that require more regularly maintained attention.
8) How do they sleep? Position?:
LIKE A CORPSE. Were it not for the fact that you can still see her breathing, you might believe that she is dead. She does not move once throughout the night, and stays in the single position of laying flat on her back with her hands resting one over the other on top of her stomach. She does not sleep deeply, however, and it is easy to rouse her. At least being suddenly awoken earns something akin to a normal response -- as her sight will be bleary and she may be somewhat disoriented or confused until she fully wakes.
9) What do their hands feel like?:
Despite her field of work, her hands remain unscarred. The gloves she wears are very durable, and further protective measures are always taken when there is a risk of exposing her hands to dangerous chemicals, fluids, creatures or equipment. She does have beans and small claws, the former adding additional softness to her touch -- something that could be quite dangerous if used in a specific way.
tagged by: @cynicallyscorned!
tagging: @stardusted-hearts , @scumbag-the-hedgehog , @falsementor , @happyheroiism , @monmuses // for multimuses, do anyone you like -- or like i did and randomize if you can't decide o7o)/~*
#[ ARE YOU AFRAID OF THINGS THAT CHANGE ? WELL I’M AFRAID OF NEVER CHANGING ] ; YAKO#[ I APPRECIATE YOUR CONFIDENCE BUT FEAR ONLY ONE OF US IS A DOCTOR ] ; YAKO MAIN VERSE#[ HER HISTORY IS LEFT BEHIND / THE IGNORANCE HAS ROOM TO BREATHE ] ; YAKO HEADCANNONS
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Hi! I really hope you're still accepting prompts. Once upon a time you wrote a wonderful prompt on niko/joel (trying to deny your feelings, but attraction gets the best of you, and you push them up against the wall
this one: https://mondscheinprinzessin.tumblr.com/post/682793931371610112/84-from-100-kisses-with-joel-and-niko ) I was waiting so long for you to start accepting prompts to quietly ask for a sequel.. I don't even know what will fit it, I'm not very good at it, maybe "50“ In my defense, I really wanted to.” or "12.“I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified.”or whatever you think might be appropriate… I hope I'm not late *0*
First of all thank you, I'm happy you liked the other prompt🥰 A sequel sounds fun and I picked "In my defense, I really wanted to.”
It was obvious something was on Joel’s mind. Okay when wasn’t there, but Niko had the distinct feeling it had to do with him, with the way Joel was glancing at him every few minutes.
Each time Niko tried not to let it show that he was aware of Joel’s attempt to get his attention, continuing to chat with Joonas, or go through his lyric book, play on the keyboard, anything to avoid Joel.
It hard started at the first rehearsal after that dumb party that Niko wished to forget about. But one scene was playing again and again in his head, and he had a bad feeling about what exactly Joel wanted to talk to him about and that it was precisely the same Niko did his damn hardest to ignore.
For everyone involved, and by extension the band, it was better to not get into this. The right way would be burying what happened and never talk about it again, forget it happened, which, Niko supposed, wasn’t something Joel was able to if he had learned anything about him.
But maybe he would get the hint if Niko blocked every attempt of his to get him to talk.
Predictably it couldn’t go on like this forever, Niko couldn’t ignore Joel out of existence and that wouldn’t be fair on his friend either, especially as he had no fault in the overall picture. Although as Niko secretly checked Joel out (which happened more often now than he would like to admit) he came to the conclusion that Joel just being Joel was enough to be a part of the escalation that had happened.
It was always two people involved, albeit someone could insist it was mainly Niko who had been the force behind the whole debacle. Because no one had pressured him into anything he did, solely his mind, from one second to the other failing completely, could be blamed for the situation at hand.
It was also his mind who was convinced that nothing good could come out of this.
“Niko?”
Niko turned towards the voice and saw Joel standing in front of him with an apprehensive look on his face. Looking around him Niko couldn’t make out anyone else in their little band quarter. He must have been so immersed in writing he hadn’t noticed the others leaving.
Hopefully they would return soon, he had no idea for how long he could be stalling until Joel would break his resolve with his big and hopeful filled eyes that seemed to plead to him.
“What’s up?” He asked, turning back to his book, maybe if he looked busy enough Joel would let the conversation fall.
“Can we talk?” Fuck.
“About what? If it’s about the song, we should wait till the others are back.”
Joel sighed despairingly and out of the corner of his eye Niko could see him fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. The sight made him actually want to get up and hug him, tell him everything was alright, but well, none of that would help his mission. Nonetheless he couldn’t deny that it was hard to sit still and watch Joel search for confidence.
“Why did you kiss me? At the party?”
Joel’s sudden question and his unexpected straightforwardness made Niko lose grip on the pen and a black line ran from the last word he was writing to the end of the page.
“Shit happens at a party, or did you forget about all the instances you’ve seen Joonas making out with someone?” Niko tried to distract from himself, and it wasn’t even a lie he was telling.
“Yeah, but Joonas…Joonas just does that, you never did. Or did you and Joonas-?” Joel’s voice held a distressed tone that made Niko’s chest tighten. It got harder to keep a cold face.
He shook his head slightly. Despite all the cheek kisses and otherwise unapologetic affection they gave each other, there never had been any more, and Niko honestly wanted it with none other than Joel although accepting it was a whole different matter.
“Then why me?” Joel continued to ask, and it grew difficult to not give in and just say because you looked so damn good in that moment and I had to, but Niko couldn’t do that.
Instead he said, “In my defense, I really wanted to. Don’t break your head over it,” as nonchalantly as he could as if that was the new normal.
“Niko, can you be honest with me…please?” Came Joel’s plea, and really Niko shouldn’t have glanced at him in that moment because an upset Joel had always tucked at his heartstrings, but now, as more and more feelings complicated this thing between them, it was almost overwhelming how desperately he wanted to comfort Joel.
While he was fighting for the right words to say, Joel came closer with tentative step, then sat down next to him, so close that the hairs on his arms raised themselves from their proximity and Niko realized for how long he had avoided being in the presence of Joel.
Niko’s mouth opened but nothing came out of it. For once he was at a loss for words, no witty comment or a good joke could save him, and his head was empty anyways.
He felt Joel lay his forehead on his shoulder and with his words his breath brushed over his skin, almost making him shudder. “Niko? Say something?”
“I’m sorry.” His tongue finally decided to work. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
“Don’t be.” Joel replied. “I liked it.” He added with a quiet voice, almost whispering it into Niko’s ear, which didn’t make it easier to process the words.
Turning his head a little Niko got face to face with Joel, so close it was hard to see all the details but he could make out Joel’s eyes on him, the bright blue shining wetly and Niko couldn’t stop himself from raising a hand to cup the side of Joel’s face, his thumb coming to rest under an eye. His gentle strokes made them flutter close, but Joel’s pretty lips were still parted a bit and Niko just couldn’t hold back anymore.
The few centimeters were overcome easily, but handling the kiss more delicately this time, he softly gave a peck to Joel’s mouth who gasped once Niko touched him, his arms coming around Niko to prevent him from moving back, and Niko was pulled back in, another kiss as tender as the one before connecting them.
“Don’t stop?” Joel got out in-between their mouths finding each other again and again, and Niko wasn’t thinking about ever keeping himself from the pleasure of kissing Joel again. His hand on Joel’s face moved to his back, into the longer growing hair, holding him as close as was possible with no intent of running away from this.
#answered#prompt adventures#and that was the last one#there was a lot of Niko/Joel and Tommi pairings this time#interesting how it changes over the time
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what are the reasons haechan is your bias? general question bc he is also my ult bias and tbh I want to hear haechan praise so bad lmao
i love this question so much i too love hearing haechan praise this is gonna be so long anon
art is everything to me, and everything about him is art. the way he dances, the way he sings, the way he carries himself, the way he thinks.
what first caught my attention about haechan was his dancing. i just absolutely love the way he moves, elegant and powerful, fluid and sharp. it's never an either or, or a but. it's one distinctive trait in addition to another distinctive trait. i like that it shows how hard he works to train and practice when he dances. you can clearly see the influenes of ballet (and sports dance and jazz dance and modern dance) in the way he always keeps his hands open and relaxed (which i love so much. i think this draws the eyes into his body and movements and allows for a more guided map of how to look at his performance). there also some very distinct haechan characterstics of his dancing like the emphasis of his hips, the way he turns, and his very very clean footwork. like if you ever needed to learn how to do the hello future chorus choreography just look at his fancams because that's what i did. there's something in the way he dances that's so captivating and i really enjoy it!
(under a read more because i think i'm about to write an entire essay)
now, his voice. haechan sounds like if i had a dream about all the good things in life, or i had the greatest epiphany in the world. but sometimes he also sings like i'm about to go straight to hell with the thoughts i'm currently having and my mother would be so ashamed of my decades of catholicism is just going down the drain. his voice is such a unique tone that i can pick him out from a yelling crowd. it sits higher than most but in a tinny? or nasally? way. i think it's because of the slight rasp and roughness that he mixes in that contrasts really well with the softness and pitch, and it just results in most (or majority, if not all) of his parts becoming killer parts of songs. he puts a lot of effort into embedding the feelings and storyline into a song (see: no longer studio recording) which i so very much enjoy. he's an extremely talented singer and i love him <3
so his dancing + singing just makes for a performance that you just have no choice but to applaud. some people are better at singing and some are better at dancing but i genuinely believe that he's so good at both that it's unfair to place him in one (1) category. as what they say, he's the best dancer among strong vocalists and the strongest vocalist among great dancers. haechan is, undoubtedly, a genius performer. his facial expressions + innate confidence in both himself as artist, his vocals and his dancing + command of the stage and the audience is just phenomenal.
the reason why i put so much stock in performance is the fact that he's an entertainer. it's his job to do it. but then haechan doesn't do it in a way that's like, "i'm doing this solely because i have to," because you can tell that he genuinely loves what he does. he loves singing. he loves dancing. he loves to perform. he was born to be on that stage, i can't picture him anywhere else, it's just where he belongs. the stage was made for him.
aside from the idol aspect, his persona is just something that i enjoy. like if he was just some guy he'd 100% be my friend. the way he teases and just generally enjoys to be a nuisance towards the people he loves (who, obviously, love him back) is just so me like we're two mirrors facing each other. i love that he's so openly affectionate to other people and he's never ashamed to show his love. yes i think he's funny and yes i think i just like him so much that everything he does is funny but that also literally everyone else in nct. he opens his mouth and everyone's either smiling in anxious anticipation or exasperated fondness for whatever bullshit that's about to come out his mouth.
lastly, i really admire his mindset. he's talked about hate comments before and how it's fun to read them because he knows it's not true. like the level of confidence and self-awareness is just? he knows he's a good singer. he knows he's a good dancer. he knows he's damn good at his job. what are bitter comments gonna do to him? i like that he specifically says that he knows how to sort things between constructive criticism and just plain old hate messages. learning how to do that (at least in my experience) is learning which parts of yourself and which part of your artistry is vulnerable to criticism, actively working on it and being better that you just know at your core that it's not true. it's knowing that you're flawed and far from perfect but you won't stand for other people discrediting your hard work.
i think i like him so much because i see so much of myself in him and at the same time i see so much of what i want in a person in him. he's both who i am and who i want to be. i don't think he's perfect or that he isn't capable of ever making mistakes but i genuinely believe in his talent and artistry and character that i can proudly say i wholeheartedly support him and that isn't something i would say to other artists. as long as he's making art i don't think i'll be going anywhere honestly i'll just follow him wherever he goes lmao (holo i love you please come soon i need him on a solo track)
anyway this was super long i am SO SORRY but also it was so therapeutic for me to talk about haechan at length so i really enjoyed this thank you for asking!!!
#anonymous#haechan#ok this was really long but ive had a shitty month so i really really really appreciate u sending this#some parts of this was quite personal i think . im not sure what constitues as personal but <3
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Clare Devlin is such a well written lesbian character for many reasons; she gets to be awkward, and is never sexualised. She has a distinct personality outside of being gay, and her sexuality is not the sole point of her character. That’s only scratching the very surface, because what I really want to focus on is how she was clearly written to be a lesbian from the start. It’s not like she was written to be straight, then halfway through the show it was decided that a gay character was needed and her name was pulled from a hat. No, she was a lesbian from the very beginning and it’s obvious when you pay attention.
For example, the scene with Father Peter. When he walks in, Michelle, Erin, and Orla are all captivated by him. Clare is completely uninterested, shown both by her facial expressions and her saying “what were you saying, Erin?” Which shows she’s more interested in what Erin had been saying than looking at a man.
Now, it’s true that a large part of her distractedness is all the caffeine she’d just had. But if you imagine any of the three other girls in that same position, you’d probably imagine them being even more obvious about being attracted to Peter, as in more impulsive about making comments and such. Not completely disinterested like Clare.
And if it wasn’t already obvious that she wasn’t interested in Peter at all, the camera isn’t even focused on her.
The way the shot is framed is clearly focused on Michelle, Erin, and Orla, with James and Clare off to the side. Usually in a scene like this, the focus would be on all the female characters in the shot, with the male character being the only one out of focus. So Clare also being out of focus says a lot. (I know that some probably interpreted James’ interest in Peter as attraction, and at first I did too but after watching season 3 I think it’s safe to say he was just craving male company and a male role model, given that he’s going to an all-girl’s school and was raised by a single mother.) I went into the show knowing Clare was gay, so I immediately picked up on this and thought it was great. This scene in particular really shows the distinct awkwardness of being a lesbian surrounded by your straight female friends who are fawning over a guy, and you just don’t give a shit.
I just really appreciated that Clare wasn’t shown to be interested in Peter, only to then later come out as a lesbian. The way she acts in this scene is a small detail, but to me it’s incredibly important. It’s really nice to see a lesbian character who’s obviously written as 100% homosexual from the start, and an actor who portrays it flawlessly. She’s just a really great lesbian character who was treated right, which is rare.
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Ify Folorunsho has recently announced a new release: "Come."
February 11, 2023 - Ifechukwude Fiyinfoluwa Folorunsho, better known as Ify Folorunsho, is an artist with a uniquely personal sound based on influences such as Gospel, R&B, and Soul. In addition, the artist loves to push the boundaries, continually expanding her creativity and breaking new gourds. Her most recent release, "Come", is a perfect example of what it means to create music that feels incredibly catchy, but also very easy to connect with.
Ify actually debuted in 2020 with the single "ETUTU," which was her amazing introduction to the world. The song had a very emotional vibe, which was all about recognizing the value of sacrifice while embracing joy and faith even despite the challenges life might bring your way. Since then, she has matured into an even more dynamic and richly nuanced singer, with so much to offer a truly one-of-a-kind sound, exemplified especially by her latest song, "Come:"
"Come" by Ify Folorunsho is a soul-stirring gospel anthem that will inspire people and uplift their hearts. The song has some truly stunning melodic parts, and the lyrics are just as inspiring. With a blend of traditional gospel elements and contemporary rhythms, and a lush tone, “Come” stands out as a very appealing song, which invites listeners to find solace and strength in the Christian faith. Ify's powerful vocals are evocative and dynamic. The beautiful performance stays true to the main concept and meaning of the song, giving listeners a wonderful experience. The song has a truly special meaning, and at its very core, it is really all about welcoming God into one’s life. It’s a powerful track that calls out to those in need of hope and renewal. The uplifting message of perseverance and redemption resonates through each verse, instilling a sense of belief, hope, and comfort like no other. In other words, "Come" is not just entertainment. This song is a genuine and heartfelt invitation to embrace the divine and experience the transformative power of grace.
With soulful vocals and memorable hooks, Ify set out to create an uplifting experience for listeners, delivering messages of faith and inspiration with every no. Her sound resonates with audiences, offering a sense of joy and spiritual connection. Ify's unique approach to music is truly inspiring. Rather than solely singing about faith, she skillfully weaves her personal experiences and challenges into her songs, illustrating how God has guided her. Through her storytelling, she offers listeners a glimpse into the transformative power of belief, resonating with audiences of diverse backgrounds.
“Come” is a very well-made track, which showcases a remarkable variety of sounds, capturing attention with its engaging and unpredictable arrangement. It's refreshing to see artists pushing boundaries in their productions, and this track seems to exemplify such ambition. The arrangement of this song is most definitely ambitious and refreshingly far-reaching, as the production has a big, modern sound that still feels warm and easy to relate to. It is clear from the moment you hit play that the artist wanted to do something different with sound, avoiding getting stuck in the usual cliches and eager to build something that felt a lot more personal and easy to relate to. This is particularly recommended if you enjoy the sound of artists like Shirley Caesar, Karen Clark Sheard, Women of Faith, and Chioma Jesus, among others! In addition to Ify’s undeniable passion and artistry, the song also shines from a technical standpoint. “Come” offers a clear mix, which demonstrates meticulous attention to detail, resulting in a vibrant, dynamic, and distinct sonic presentation. The instrumental has a dreamy, immersive touch, while the vocals still shine and stand at the forefront of the song in a balanced way. This is the key factor that makes the mix so good, and there are many other clever production accounts that contribute to the overall richness and depth of the track. The frequency spectrum is evenly distributed, featuring a well-defined low end and a clear top end, enhancing the clarity of the music.
youtube
Gospel singers play a crucial role in fostering connections with audiences through the expression of faith. Her music serves as a conduit for conveying messages of solace, hope, and inspiration, resonating with individuals across diverse backgrounds. This is the reason why artists like Ify are so important to the music scene! The power of sharing faith and bringing people together through something as pure as music is absolutely priceless.
Find out more about Ify Folorunsho and do listen to "Come," which is currently available on some of the best digital music streaming services out there.
It is always inspiring to witness the work of artists who want to inspire other people in the community, and Ifechukwude Fiyinfoluwa Folorunsho definitely belongs to this category!
Written by Andrew C. Caccese
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@skillswapping said: "Hey! Hey Steven!" It looks like Noland is cradling something in his arms as he elbows his way into Steven's study…? "Check this out — " Is all he says before dropping it bluntly on the table — a HUGE ROCK, of course, and clearly quite heavy, given how loud the THUMP was. If Noland didn't have Steven's attention before, he surely did now.
He pats the top of the mineral — golden brown and pink with a very distinct white ring in it's center — quite pleased ( even perhaps, amused ) with what he's found. "Whaddya make of that, huh?" It's quite true — He's found the forbidden ham. / the most beautiful, confusing mineral on earth!
Now, Steven’s home was a known free for all—given that the residents of Mossdeep weren’t devious, and none would risk the theoretical lawsuit capability of Devon’s sole heir ( nor would they want to actually stand face to face to his ‘mons... beldum made wonderful home watchers ). So, it wasn’t necessarily too surprising if someone came in to find him, be it for Space Center business, League business, and the more common, rather amusing third option—rock identification.
He just wasn’t expecting Noland of all people.
The sheer drop of this giant meaty rock causes every single item on his desk to visibly jump, and Steven just stares for a moment. “Leave it to Noland of the Battle Factory to find the meatiest rock I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He’s starting to understand why Sidney affectionately calls this man a meathead. “Color me impressed!” Ah, there it is, his affable love for any and all rocks trumping his disbelief.
“Rhodochrosite, the butcher’s favorite rock! Looks just like you, ahaha—” He’s gotta take a full inspection of the giant forbidden ham, he truly can’t help himself. It’s genuinely impressive, and he’s concerned whether or not Noland managed to accidentally steal this specimen rather than find it.... “Alright, fess up, did you find this out in the middle of nowhere?” Were you hungry?!
#skillswapping#🌙 ━ / asks.#💎 ━ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌! / steven ic.#i'm sorry he's half roasting him bc of all the rocks he found IT WAS THE HAM.
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