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#BLADIE NEEDS TO BE MORE OPEN AND NICE
xi-chan · 18 days
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Your Poppy
sypnosis: You end up falling asleep while waiting for your lover pairings: Aventurine, Sunday, Blade A/N: Wanted to get more active so here you go. Characters may be ooc like in almost every fic that exists lol - not proofread
AVENTURINE
A finger lightly grazes your cheek with utmost care, a smile appearing on Aventurine's lips as he saw your sleeping figure on your couch. After running some errands for the IPC, he got caught up in some different matters with the Ten Stonehearts, thus extending his absence. He wanted nothing more than to get home and stay in your arms forever.
He gave you a soft kiss on the forehead and brushed some hair strands out of your face, smiling even more. You were the most perfect being in his eyes- like you were divine. He carefully placed his arms under your figure, carrying you bridal-style to your shared bedroom and letting the silk covers engulf you. However, you slowly opened your eyes and smiled back at him.
"..Welcome back.. I didn't mean to.. fall asleep." you mumbled, rubbing your eyes as you tried to sit up, but a large hand held you down. Aventurine chuckled as he shook his head, "No need to get up, dear. You slept so soundly, shouldn't have interrupted that."
You simply sighed and lied down again, feeling a shift of weight beside you as Aventurine plops down next to you. You shake your head and point to his clothes. "Change. I won't have your IPC germs on the bed." You pulled the cover over your body as your lover mocked your words before changing into his night attire, the one with the silky smooth texture you loved, mostly because it felt nice on your skin.
After he was beside you again, you were face-to-face, and he gave you a light peck on the lips. "I missed you." You chuckled as you snuggled closer to him, feeling the silk texture of his attire. "...I missed you too. Why were you away for so long?"
Aventurine only pouted as he held you closer to him, your head right beside his chest where his heart was underneath.
"Doesn't matter. All that matters is that I'm with you right now."
SUNDAY
As you shuffled in your sleep, you noticed that the position you were in was different than the one you remember falling asleep in. Instead of sitting in your lover's, Sunday's, chair, face down onto his desk, you were instead sitting on something far more familiar and warm, the desk right beside you in view. A small hum from above made you realize in exactly what position you were in.
Sunday had spotted you sleeping on his desk and knowing just how uncomfortable that chair can get, he simply picked you up, sat down instead and placed you on his lap with your head on his shoulder. Rather than holding you head with his hand so that it wouldn't nod around, he spread those fluffy wings to hold it.
Sunday may be the Halovian between the two of you, but you were far more of an angel than he in his view.
As you looked up to see where the sound came from, Sunday was fast-asleep, although you knew he could wake up if you only poked him a little. You smiled to yourself and snuggled closer to him, embracing his warmth.
"Shall we go to the bedroom or do you favor this more?" he asked suddenly and you shook your head. "...Doesn't matter where. You choose, whereever it will be.. I know it's nice if you're there."
Sunday chuckled quietly as he held you closer, humming a sweet and calming tune. "Robin's song" you think. It's been some time since you've last seen her, actually. Before you could think further, Sunday kissed you softly on the forehead, catching your attention.
"Don't worry your head so much and get some rest, love."
BLADE
Kafka was singing a lullaby while you waited for Blade- damn that smooth voice for making you fall asleep. Blade had been sent out by Elio for a mission and it had already been 3 days since he departed. Kafka's been spending some time with you, telling you that you shouldn't worry or that he'll come back soon- or rather in her words:
"You know Bladie, I doubt he's taking his time."
Kafka smiled as you fell asleep with your head on her lap, her fingers were stroking your hair and Silverwolf quickly took a picture before disappearing again. Although you were no Stellaron Hunter, the others saw you as their familiar- even Sam who you rarely saw.
Footsteps made Kafka stop and she sighed contently. "How did it go?" Blade stood in front of her with crossed arms, the same expression on his face as usual. "Mhm, never mind, tell me later on focus on them." She carefully lifted your head off her lap and placed it back on the couch. She winked to him before leaving the room.
Blade suspired before sitting down beside you. His hand rested on your hip as he leaned his chin on the other. During every second of his immortal life, Blade wishes to leave this eternal torture- the burden of his past and the Mara inside him give him no rest, but you- you seem to have an aura that surpresses his Mara-like Kafka's spirit whisper, but much more intense. Just being near you calms his body and mind, and he'll forever be grateful for it, no matter how you do it.
"You've died countless times to the point where people are used to it and have stopped asking 'Are you still hurt?', haven't they?" Blade hummed as he turned away from you. "What difference does it make?" You smiled at him before grabbing his arm softly, minding his bandages. "Immortal or Mortal, you're still a person. Everyone needs reassurance once in a while."
Blade's lips curled upward- but not exactly a smile- at this memory. He quickly unfolded a blanket and draped it over your body, letting you continue sleeping as he leaves.
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romaritimeharbor · 25 days
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FAMILY, OF SORTS. — in which kafka, blade, and silver wolf are an odd but quite special found family to be a part of.
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— trigger & content warnings. mentions of unspecified injury.
— pairings & notes. fluff, found family. kafka & teen!reader, blade & teen!reader, silver wolf & teen!reader. 1.3k words. reader is a stellaron hunter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used).
— author's notes. the sillies <3 APHE POSTING???? APHELION POSTING REAL AND TRUE????????? i had a request for this on my old blog (from my dear beloved moot @starryshinyskies <3) so i decided to finish it 💪 nd tagging @www-brontide since i know you were excited for this post HEHE anyways how are we feeling about this formatting? if you guys don't like it i'm very open to changing it back. i'm just experimenting with my post format is all 🫶
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kafka seems strangely motherly to me. caring and doting in her own unique ways, but also quite strange and odd in those same ways. an enigma of sorts.
she is the kind of person to always send the stellaron hunters' youngest member texts throughout the day; these texts range anywhere from silly and inconsequential to sweet messages letting [name] know that she was thinking about them.
(her doting nature is not dissimilar to how she thinks of and regards the trailblazer... hm.)
KAFKA
My coat got stained again :(
Won't you help me clean it when you get home, little one?
[ 1:22 PM ]
KAFKA
I saw a new movie today.
It made me think of you. It was quite to your tastes.
Perhaps we should go see it together sometime, hm?
Ah, but you're probably asleep by now...
That's fine. You do need it more than the rest of us.
Sleep well, darling.
[ 11:34 PM ]
she thinks of her little one quite frequently and has been known to pick up little trinkets from different planets that reminded her of them. a phone charm, a set of rings, something more practical like a new weapon... she once returned with a nice coat that matches one of hers. her gifts are always unpredictable but nonetheless very thoughtful.
and when or if they get injured, she is the one who treats their wound(s) with a tender hand.
she does chide them, however.
"you are a stellaron hunter, little one," she reminds, pulling the bandages wrapped around their wound a little tighter, making them wince. it is akin to a slap on the wrist—not enough pain to seriously harm them, but enough to force them to take her words to heart. "if it is not a part of the plan, try your best not to get caught or injured, hm? silver wolf doesn't like to see you this way, and it causes a unique stir in bladie. your getting injured causes quite the unrest among us all! do be more careful next time."
if there is ever a night during which they are struggling to sleep, they are more than welcome to seek out kafka's company.
she would be willing to read them to sleep, if that is what they desired.
however... a far easier method that would ensure they would stay asleep? her spirit whisper ability, of course.
they know kafka would not use it to harm them.
kafka finds their earnest trust beyond endearing. the trust of a little one like them is quite an important gift! the least she can do, she thinks, is assist them when her assistance is needed.
and sometimes, that just means lulling them to sleep.
blade is quite a difficult person to read, regardless of whether he intends to be so or not.
some days, he is distant and prefers to keep to himself. others, less so.
this, though, should not be mistaken for a lack of care. in fact, he cares quite deeply. his care is simply very quiet and he desperately, earnestly, truly does not wish to cause [name] harm.
he is also most likely the one who spars with them and trains them in the ways of combat, which... he isn't exactly the gentlest at doing. training sessions can be quite frustrating in that they often emerge sore and with new cuts and bruises (but really, these injuries are small and insignificant; they are confident in saying that blade would never truly hurt them, nobody in their family would). he does mean well in his tough methods, though.
the universe is not kind or gentle. it will never treat them that way. therefore, he does his best to prepare them so that they can effectively handle the universe's cruelty and defend themselves from it.
one of the ways in which his quiet care manifests is through his treatment of the small wounds he gives them during training. kafka has said many times that she can treat them, but blade always insists on doing it himself.
out of all of their coworkers, blade becomes the most restless when they're away. he gets particularly antsy when they've been gone for a long period or when they're out there alone. kafka always giggles and points out to him how utterly restless he becomes when such circumstances occur.
(he should be assured that they can handle themselves, given that he is their mentor—there is surely nobody else who would know their skills as well as he would—but somehow he simply isn't.)
blade is also, generally speaking, the most protective.
should they come back injured... if it is anything other than a shallow scratch on the cheek, a rage hotter than the brightest star burns under his skin. in those moments, he almost does not dare to touch them, for fear that he might harm them unwittingly... but he does. his hands are somewhat rough when he snatches their face and tilts their chin around to get a better look at the blood (is it theirs? he hopes not) and grime dirtying their face. there is a terrifying threat present in his voice when he demands, not asks, "who did this to you?"
(if kafka was not present in these moments, he might worry that his mara would get the best of him. thankfully, kafka is intentional and present in such situations.)
unless the ones responsible for the wound have already been adequately... taken care of, he will do so himself. there is nowhere in the universe that the perpetrators could hide from him.
it's about protecting them, but it is also about sending a message.
something along the lines of "anyone who lays hands on them will suffer a fate worse than death," perhaps.
death is anything but a terrible fate to blade, but he knows that it is the worst imaginable to some. he will be certain to deliver something infinitely worse, something beyond imagination, to those daring to hurt his younger teammate.
silver wolf is perhaps the least enigmatic of their little family. she isn't an open book, per se, but she's easier to read than kafka or blade... at least, for someone like [name], anyway.
she never fails to harrass them to play a few rounds (which tends to spiral into many, many rounds...) of a game or two with her. why them, specifically? she insists that blade isn't good at them and kafka is kafka. really, it may very well just be that she enjoys spending time with them, but she—of course—will not simply say that.
however... she bullies them terribly about how bad they are. it comes from a place of affection!
she is also the type to win them every single prize at carnivals, just because she likes the joy it seems to bring them. when she encounters rigged games, however, she becomes all the more motivated by her unadulterated annoyance to beat them.
what do you mean she of all people can't beat this awful and horrible rigged game? her???? the silver wolf????? seriously????????
unfortunately, it does not always end in her victory, even when she is infinitely motivated by her anger.
...and she really isn't above just taking one of the prizes when the stall's owner isn't looking. she has done so multiple times for [name].
she would definitely try to teach them hacking (keyword: try) if they aren't already familiar with it. since it has come in handy for her, she figures that they might also find use in it. it's her quiet way of looking out for them.
(her more obvious way of looking out for them is often seen when she is on missions with them. most commonly, it manifests as her snatching their arm and pulling them out of the way of an enemy before obliterating said threat.)
silver wolf is totally the sort of person to pinch their cheeks (to different degrees, kafka and blade also do this!). they are very cute to her.
overall they are a weird but very special little family to be a part of <3
please consider supporting your writers by reblogging and leaving a kind tag or comment. it really helps me out!
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viviennevermillion · 9 months
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*slides into your inbox because HSR requests are open*
Hey Vi! I was wondering if I could request some heacanons for Sampo, Blade, and your boy Luocha with a reader who likes to play with/run their hands through the boys hair? They all have such pretty hair and I want to play with it!
Anyway take your time of course, and I hope you're doing well! Please remember to take care of yourself!
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playing with their hair
✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: ryker, yayyy, thank you for sending in a request! you made me think about sampo and realize that he's the funniest fucking character in the entire game and so much fun to write for. i had a blast with his banner too, the song fits him so well 💀🩵
btw requests are open and if you guys would like to read more of my works, check my masterlist!
✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: carried me with you — brandi carlile
✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: sampo, blade, luocha
✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: very slight angst in blade's (i'm so sorry, i'm trying, i promise)
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Sampo loves when you play with his hair. He'd be 100% down for you trying ridiculous hairstyles on him but on a good day he'll put a pillow in your lap and puts his hands behind his head, sinking into the soft fabric. He closes his eyes when your fingertips start carding through his blue strands of hair. "This is the good life", he sighs and winks at you, "now all you'd need to do would be feeding me grapes like they do in the movies and things would be perfect." "Wait until I throw you off the couch", you shoot him a warning glare. "Hey, hey, I jest", he puts his hands up defensively and laughs.
"You know I'm lucky to have you", he takes your free hand into his and presses a kiss to your knuckles, "this is like we're straight out of a romantic piece of literature, don't you think?" You raised an eyebrow at him: "You're not exactly what I'd consider a romance novel protagonist."
He sighs. "True. I'm more like, the court jester who fell in love with the pretty royal heir", he reaches up to cup your cheek, caressing it gently with his fingertips. "And I love you for it", you laugh as he sits up to press a kiss to your lips. You bury your fingers in his hair whilst kissing back.
You take a deep breath and drift off into your own thoughts now that Sampo was quiet for a moment. A rare occurence, really.
As you enjoy this moment with your beloved, you think back to the chaos that was all over Belobog recently. "Hey, what do you think our friends from the Astral Express are doing now?", you wonder and Sampo sinks back into your lap again, resting his cheek against your stomach. "Maybe fighting a giant, strong lady with the help of a dragon, but what do I know?", he shrugs with a satisfied smile on his face. "Isn't it usually the other way around?", you raise an eyebrow. "It is, isn't it?", he puts a finger to his chin and chuckles.
You laugh and ruffle his hair. "You always have such an overactive imagination. You should write a book." "As much as I'd slay as an author, I'm just doomed by the narrative like the rest of us, darling."
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Blade enjoys when you run your fingers through his hair. It's a sensation that momentarily distracts him from everything else that is going on in that busy, but tired mind of his; so it's well-appreciated.
He will not let you mess up his hair under any circumstance. Kafka calling him "Bladie", a terrible habit that rubbed off on you, was bad enough. He didn't need her and Silver Wolf to tease him about having a ponytail on top of his head with several braids going off from it, tied together with colorful hair ties.
Thankfully, you were sane enough not to attempt that.
But he does let you do a few nice hairstyles that look good on him; like a simple, long braid. He doesn't care for what he looks like after all these years of being alive but you seemed to find joy in it and it made his daily life easier sometimes to have his hair put together in a braid.
Sometimes when you sit behind him and braid his hair, you press a few teasing kisses to his neck. Unfortunately for his usually so serious demeanor, Blade is the most ticklish person you have ever met, so that's one of the only things that gets a laugh out of him; even if he didn't feel it emotionally. You brush a strand of his hair back, relishing in the sound he made so rarely; a slight tinge of sadness in your heart and a thought you didn't dare voice.
I wish I could see you laugh more... I'd do anything to make you happy.
He also lets you brush his hair every morning if you want to. His hair is so soft, as you have told him many times. He always wonders how something so simple could bring you so much joy; but he's glad that it does.
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Luocha always takes good care of his hair; after all a professional appearance was important for a merchant. His hair is very soft and silky and you have a great time brushing and braiding it.
He teaches you how to do his signature hairstyle. It's quite difficult to do on his own so he appreciates that you're happy to help. This pretty much became a routine for the two of you in the morning.
Sometimes he'd try to get up at night to go to the bathroom and find you accidentally laying on his hair. He hisses an "ouch" under his breath, sometimes waking you up in the process. Once he's back in your arms, you massage his scalp and carefully run your fingers through his blond strands to make up for the painful accident.
In the morning, you tend to sit behind him and do his hair, often littering his neck and shoulders in the process. "Is this just an excuse for you to give me kisses?", he chuckles and shakes his head. "I suppose you caught me", you sigh with a smile on your face and Luocha turns his head to pull you into a deep kiss that catches you off guard. You quickly melt into the gesture, closing your eyes and noting how pleasant the taste of his lips is. You presume he applies lip balm in the morning before you do his hair but you never actually saw him do it.
When he gets home after a long day, depending on what hairstyle you did for him, his scalp hurts sometimes when you undo his braid so he loves to rest his head in your lap and have you ease brush your fingers through his hair.
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lorelune · 6 months
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hell is a hound without a chain
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|| blade x gn!reader || M || yandere wolf hybrid blade || wc: 3.8k  || ao3 ||
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A bite is quite a burden.
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minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni
a/n: folds hands man ... hybrid blade is sure something. i chewed on this au for a minute because truly hybrid blade is such a flavor. a toothy one. enjoy loves!!
CW: dark content, hybrid AU, wolf hybrid blade, yandere blade, reader is not a hybrid, biting, claiming bites, caretaking, victim blaming, injured reader, references to reader drinking casually
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You ache.
Your neck hurts.
It’s hurt for the past few days, and you imagine it will continue to hurt for the next several weeks, considering that Blade is not allowing you to heal in any meaningful capacity.
You sit on the bathroom counter, a bit teary-eyed, with Blade standing between your legs. A scented candle sputters on a small shift. Blade’s tail swishes. Annoyed. Ears twitching and jaw locked. There’s a first aid kit open beside you and it's running low on gauze and antibiotic ointment.
You sniffle as Blade pats at the wound on your neck. He’s being… gentle. For him anyway. The contact and disinfectant still sting and you hiss at the sensation and jerk away.  
Blade stills.  
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"I’ll bind you again." His hand cups your jaw— too tightly. "Would you like to force my hand?"
"No, n-not really.” You sound pathetic. You want to cry. You probably will. "It hurts. I'm sorry."
Blade sighs but doesn't press you. He trades the disinfectant for a slather of ointment and prepares a gauze pad. The piece he cuts is larger than normal. It’s the size of his palm. You suppress the urge to feel for the wound on your neck and check its size and depth. You haven't gotten a good look at it yet. Judging by the red stain soaking down the front of your shirt, it’s a worse wound than normal. 
Blade has made it a routine to freshen the bite mark on your neck at least once a week. He always sinks his teeth into the same spot while other, less severe marks decorate your throat and shoulders (and chest and stomach and thighs, but those are easier to dismiss.) The mark he worries the most, the one that you know he associates with some animalistic claim, is on your side, broken flesh splitting where your neck meets your shoulder.
...
You first... 'earned' it after leaving Blade to his own devices for a weekend. 
It was just a beach trip with a few friends. Kafka encouraged it— you needed to stretch your legs. ‘Bladie’ as she so affectionately referred to your hybrid, was more than capable of taking care of himself. He was doing so long before you came into the picture and formally offered your home up to him. Besides, he’d had several months to settle into your home, hadn’t he? Kafka goaded you into accepting a “well-deserved” break. Himeko seemed... hesitant about the arrangement at the time. She warned that hybrids can get a bit prickly about being left alone, even if they are independent. 
("They tend to hold grudges.")
The trip was a mistake. 
It had been a lovely weekend. Kafka had thrown her card down for a beachside cabana at a resort. Drinking sweet fruity cocktails, lounging in the sun, and generally relaxing. It was... nice to be out and not worried about Blade. He knew where you were. He had a phone with an internet connection that he knew he could use, and he didn't bother to contact you. You figured he was enjoying the break from his typical vigilance. Perhaps he was enjoying not having an owner to stalk around and guard.
You were wrong. Wildly.
The moment you arrived home (you hadn't even set your bags down—), Blade was on you. Pressed into your own door, he growled and spat that you smelled “wrong”. You asked him what he meant— you nervously joked you could take a quick shower and make dinner. Whatever he wanted. Your voice had trembled, and your breath had started coming too quickly. 
His gaze pierced you a moment later, a growl ripping from his mouth, lips curling back. 
Nothing could have prepared you for the way he grabbed your jaw, jerked your head to the side, and buried his teeth in your neck. He covered your mouth with his palm when you screamed. Muffled any shout or cry for help. You knew Blade was strong, but you hadn't ever realized how strong. You were immobilized between him and his teeth and the door.
By the time he withdrew and lapped at the wound he'd made, you were sobbing, scrambling to get away, run, shut yourself in your room, and try to figure out how the fuck to handle this situation—   but Blade hadn't let you far. He cleaned the wound first with his tongue, then a damp rag, then dressed it properly as has become routine. He carried you to bed and curled around you. Arms locked around your waist, legs tangled. It would’ve been sweet if he was your lover.
(But, he is not. He is a wolf you foolishly allowed into your home.)
The reality of your situation began to sink in then. Slowly. Bit by bit. 
Blade freshens the bite about once a week, give or take. If he's feeling antsy, it's less. If you're more compliant, more tethered to home, or dare to take him in public with you, he leaves it alone. Allows it to almost heal before digging his canines into the rapidly thickening layers of scar tissue.
It's awful of him, but you don’t think he'll ever stop now that he's intent on marking you. You had been stupid to think of yourself as anything other than a claim to him, hadn't you?
A few tears drip down your cheeks as Blade secures the dressings. He dabs them away with the side of his finger, careful not to scratch you with his blackened claws. He brackets you in on your sides. He tips his forehead against yours and deflates.
"Bed," he says. It's something akin to a request. He'll take you there, anyway, but being given a warning feels like a luxury.
"Okay." Your voice is quiet. Scratchy from shrieking against his palm less than an hour before.
Blade scoops you up and ferries you to bed. He pauses to throw an extra blanket onto his... nest (even if it's on your bed). It’s a quilt he favors, worn through but soft. His preference for it would be endearing under different circumstances. 
He runs a hand through your hair, trailing his touch down to the wet collar of your shirt, “You need to change. You’re dirty.”
As is routine, he pulls your shirt off as you squirm. You lightly shove at his chest, if only to make yourself feel better. Resist a little for your own pride, despite knowing it’s useless. Your modesty doesn’t matter to Blade (not if it’s just him and you in the room. He’s permitted himself to your skin in the most non-traditional ways.) Regardless, you aren’t bare for long. He replaces your shirt with his own. It’s warm and too big. His frame is almost inhuman, and it gapes around your shoulders.
Blade cajoles you to the headboard and lets you fuss a bit along the way. He sits behind 
you and settles you between his thighs. The knit blanket is pulled over your lap and his arms wind around your waist, unyielding. Locking you there. Blade tucks his face into your neck on the... less injured side. He scents you there with a half-there growl. 
You rub at your puffy eyes. Your chest hurts.
"You need to rest." Blade tells you. He tells you this often. He's more in tune with your physical state than you are these days, so you appreciate the reminders. You feel half out of your body. 
"... Oh yeah?" you laugh, voice wobbly. "I should, huh? Don't I need to make dinner?"
"Unnecessary." Blade replies. He squeezes you. "You need to rest, first. I will prepare a meal."
"... Sure." Blade doesn’t do particularly well in the kitchen. "I can rest, then cook, okay? If you can wait that long? Otherwise, I can cook then rest later too—"
Then Blade really growls. It’s the kind that you feel between your ribs and makes you go stiff. His mouth opens, too hot against the fragile skin near your neck, and the points of his canines rest. Idle. You start to shake. 
"You will rest." Blade tells you. "I... went too harshly on you. You are weak. You need to rest. I will cook so you do not need to. I cannot guarantee that it will be any good, but you should not be on your feet."
You laugh. something rotten curls in your belly.
There’s care in the way that Blade speaks about you. He rarely speaks in such a forward way— it’s hard for him. You can hear how he struggles between certain words. How the sentences are harder for him to construct. The sentiment of care is not easy for him. This makes sense— as he is a wolf that has you in his jaws. There is not care in slaughter. An animal’s claim is just that. A claim. Baseless. Primal. A twitch that follows an instinct, maybe. 
Hearing him say things that could be kind makes you want to vomit.
You dig your nails into Blade's forearms. His hold constricts.
"Why would you care?" You snap. "Don't act like you give a shit about my wellbeing, as if you didn't just take a fucking chunk out of me."
It's the wrong thing to say. You know this. It’s better to not anger him. But it's hard to care when you’re this tired and worn down. Self-preservation is an afterthought. You feel spiteful, terrified tears burn your eyes. You wait for a wolf’s violence as Blade tenses and goes still behind you.
Preparing for the kill, you presume.
Instead, however, his mouth closes, and soft lips press into your throat. No teeth. No apparent ire. No mouthy attitude. And he stays quiet. Somehow drags you closer into the solid, warm line of his front. He is solid, maybe a little softer than when he first moved in with you. 
"My mark on you is protection, even if you do not realize it." Blade tells you. You figured as much, but it doesn't justify it. "Anyone who smells or sees you knows that you are claimed."
"Yeah, so everyone knows I've got some bully of a wolf at home, ready to tear my throat out?"
(You've read his file, you know he's capable of it.)
"I wouldn't." Blade's voice grates, low and angry. “I... I wouldn't. Not to you."
"If you say so."
"I mean it." He punctuates it with a kiss. He's half-hard against your lower back and you swallow. "I... I do not know how else to convey to you that you are cared for. That you are mine."
(You’re not sure you believe him. There are other, crueler ways he could. On your more anxiety-ridden nights, you’re grateful that Blade’s touch hasn’t strayed there. Never. He hasn’t ever touched you like that, with that part of him. Anything below your neckline is all teeth and tongue. Violence is his language of physicality, you've found. Pleasure he seems foreign to.)
"I'm yours?" You dig your nails in and his tail slaps the bed. good. You'll bear the consequences later. Best to get it all out of your system. "When did I agree to this?"
Blade thinks, for a moment. You doubt he'll be able to find when you did agree because you haven't.
"You allowed me into your home. Bed. I wear a collar with your name on it when I must leave this place." Blade tells you. His hand cups your chin, turning your face toward his, and his nails tease over your cheeks. "What did you think all of that meant?"
Your stomach drops. 
"... A kindness?"
“An offering." He corrects. He noses into your jaw, scenting again. His touch drifts under your soft shirt, resting over your tummy. "One that was accepted."
"Oh."
It hits you. All of it. Awareness is like being dunked in ice water, suffocating on it, and throwing it back up. Kafka had once warned you that hybrids think so differently from humans. You figured the differences would be... obvious. Easy to sort through.
You were, once again, so wrong.
You want to tell Blade that that's not what you meant. That you opened your home and heart because he was a beaten down stray who clearly needed a home— one where he was the only one of his kind. Where he had the attention he needed to thrive, and the space to do so too. That you signed your name on the necessary paperwork not as a proposition but as a gesture of care. 
In the same moment, you realize that even if you do tell all of this to Blade, it wouldn’t matter. This misunderstanding has been steeping for months beyond your control. You feel stupid. Foolish. So naive it hurts. There’s a bite mark dug into the flesh of your neck that will never really scar. If Blade can help it, it will never fully heal. You’ll bear it bloody... forever. 
“You smell wrong.” Blade huffs against your neck. He squeezes over your hips, rubbing little circles into the soft flesh.
Can he smell when you’re upset?
Probably. Blade always got particularly cagey when you would return home from the rare trip into the office. You were always exhausted, on edge, and overstimulated from a full day of endless everything. Blade would follow you around on those days, never letting you out of his sight. He’d wrap you up in blankets from his bed. Shove you in his clothes. Hand-fed you in his lap despite the fact his hands were too big and arthritic. 
Was that care? 
(So, so clearly.)
You don't realize you're on the verge of tears until you open your mouth to speak and nothing comes out but a wounded, awful cry. Like you're the pained animal and not Blade. 
"Hush." Blade tells you. He smooths your shirt— his shirt over your front, over your chest in a way that makes your breath hitch and squirm uncomfortably. He’s burning hot against your back. "You are safe. You can rest now."
Is that care?
Tears slip from the corners of your eyes. They’re angry, tired, and sad all at once. You try to suck them down the best you can.
Blade pulls you at you, sinking you into the sheets. He spoons you, flush against your back, hot and soft in all the ways that matter. You bury your face into your pillow when he runs a soothing, clawed hand up and down the back of your neck.
For a moment, you consider your options. It’s immediately overwhelming. Defeating. 
You know that there is nothing you can do about your position. You could rear up, slap Blade, and scramble for the door. There are organizations. Sections of government that handle situations like this. You might be able to get to your phone. At least text someone that things have gotten out of hand.
You also know that Blade would not allow this. He'd not allow you out of bed, let alone this room. He'd have you pinned, belly to the bed with a hand dug into your hair to brace you there. He'd let you squirm and kick and scream. He'd bruise you in return— leave his own marks. another set of molted hickeys across your shoulders.
He'd probably push at the freshly bloodied claim on your neck too. Never mind that he just patched you up. 
It's hopeless, and the knowledge hits you so hard that you feel winded. You scramble against the bed to grab onto the sheets, and you cry. It’s in your chest. You sob and cry so hard it hurts. The sounds you are making are ugly and broken. The feeling between your eyes is burgeoning into an acidic headache, and your mouth is somehow dry even as you get spit on the soft sheets. 
Despair is not beautiful. It’s toxic and infecting. 
Despite this, Blade does not move away. He is steadfast, and curls overtop of you. He hushes you with his simple, curt words and a low rumble in his chest that's hard to identify. It soothes something in your hindbrain you wish you could kill. His lips press into your hair. His touch is solid, bruising, but not maiming
Violence... shouldn't be comforting.
And yet— yet it is. When the tears come slower, and morph into hiccups as you desperately try and catch your breath, Blade... helps, you realize. His mane of hair spills over your face, like a curtain to darken the room. His hand slips to your front, under your shirt once more so it's his palm against the clammy skin of your chest.
"Breathe." He tells you. It's a command. "Like this."
His hand strokes up and down, in time with his own slow, deep breaths. There's the terrifying edge of his claws, blackened and sharpened, but they never cut in enough to gore. Only enough to remind you that they’re sharp— to maim, to protect— (what’s the difference to a wolf like him?) You're drained, and you can only follow his lead, sucking in breaths that become more steady with each one.
There's nothing left in you by the time you settle. You're wrung out, emptied and so tired. It's clarifying, maybe. As Blade pets you into sleep, you shakily bring a hand to press over the covered, weeping wound in your neck. A full moon of teeth marks. Even the light touch aches.
Blade nips at your hand, nosing it away. 
(How terrible, really. To be cared for by a beast who believes love and violence are one in the same. How terribly idiotic of you to not notice. How... cruel of Kafka for never connecting the dots for you. You’re sure she must’ve taken note, at some point, of Blade’s claim on you and its implications. She was once in your position, but knowing her own disposition, Blade never took her like he’s taken you.)
(Himeko probably noticed as well. But, she’s the type to only step in if she thinks she can make a difference. She has her own self-preservation in mind, and you can respect that. Mostly. Perhaps she saw Blade’s claim taking shape and realized that a Wolf’s bite is not something she had the claws to interfere with. She has her own hybrids to take care of. You ignored her words of caution in the beginning when she first offered them.)
(It’s hard to fault her.)
(And how can you fault Blade for his instincts? Perhaps you were too kind. You lacked caution— self-preservation— whatever you wish to call it. You put your own soft throat in the line of Blade’s bite. In retrospect, it’s frighteningly clear. It guts you. Over and over. The only thing that tethers you is Blade’s touch and breath against your neck. A reminder.)
(A reminder that you are his to tug and push and pull as he pleases. That he’ll leave bite marks where he desires, never to gore, but to show that you’re... protected.)
Isn’t there something alluring about that? 
It makes you shake all over again. It makes you muffle a fresh sob into your pillow and you beat your fists against the mattress. Blade lets out a growly word or two you can’t make out as he pins your wrists to the mattress.
It makes sense, now, why Blade always wanted to accompany you out on errands, if only to growl and bark at anyone who looked at you too long. You had thought he was just poorly socialized (partially true) — but he was snapping at strangers to make sure no one even thought of looking at you for too long. Let alone touch. Pursue. 
You have a hazy memory of a night at the cocktail bar. Kafka had asked you to come alone— ‘girls night’ again. Blade had given you the cold shoulder when you told him sheepishly that you’d be leaving him at home. Whatever alcohol dulls the memory, but you can recall Blade had thrown you over his shoulder the moment you had come home. You swayed and slurred your words and Blade looked ready to gut you. He threw you in bed, tore off the pretty dress that he had said was “far too revealing” and shoved you into one of his sleepshirts without listening to a single one of your protests. Your fighting and punching didn’t deter him— it didn’t make him any more aggravated. 
(“You’re stupid.” Blade had told you, roughly wiping a soft cloth over your face. Makeup smears on the fabric. “Why are you out in the dark? How did you get home?”
“... You’re silly. I took a cab.” You tell him with a frown. You bat at his ears and Blade grabs your arms with such force you’re scared they’ll break. 
“You’re reckless.” Blade had growled in your ear. “Do you know what you invite when you’re in this state?” 
“... A hangover?” 
Blade had stared at you, fuming. The next moment, his teeth were embedded in your neck and a pillow was shoved over your face as you wailed. Your vision swam as he pulled away, lips and chin smeared red. 
Blood stains his teeth as he drags you up by the collar, and spits— “Do you know how many men would eat you alive like this?”)
You realize now that there was an implicit— “And I’m not there to keep it from happening.”
There’s comfort in it. You feel disgusting, but the roiling behind your eyes is cut by how warm Blade is behind you. That he’s good at patching the wound on your neck, and attentive when you let him be. 
If you really can't escape Blade and your mutual incidental claim... maybe it could be okay. There’s some assurance that Blade will not gore you, only tenderly hurt for the sake of some instinct you will never feel, but are coming to understand. He is honest too. His words are solid. He is too straightforward to mince his words. They are never a riddle. There's safety in being underneath him as you are now. 
There's safety in him. You almost cry again. He'll hurt you but never rend apart into pulp as you know he could. He'll sink his teeth in but as a claim. His slaughter is accompanied by care— for you. Slaughter inflicted on others is instinctual violence born from different baser needs. It hits you, like a blow to the chest, that whatever brutality he could inflict on you, is only a fraction of what he would inflict for you.
"Oh," you say, so softly, as you realize. You feel foolish all over again. 
Blade makes a contented sound against your nape. Mouthing at you. His palm is settled at the base of your throat. "Your kind can be so slow. Now rest."
You laugh, blurting it out into your buttery sheets. There are specks of blood dotting the cream fabric, new and old. Fresh and faded. 
You'll have to restock your first-aid kit.
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the-last-f2p · 9 months
Text
Yandere promts day 11
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11.“I stabbed their eyes out because I didn’t like the way they looked at you”
Featuring: Blade
Note: Bladie :3
TW: Yandere behaivour, violence, murder , basical captivity but not really?, Blade texts you a photo of a dead body, gore
You didn't understand Blade very well. The stellaron hunter that labeled himself as your boyfriend was always somewhere around you, going as far as taking you on missions with him as long as it was a solo mission. Kafka finding out about you.
You didn't understand the reason you were being practically banned from stepping outside without him honestly, at this point it was a lucky month if you went out two times.
Good thing this month was one of them.
You went out on a walk with Blade better than nothing. It was a fairly nice day, and you were on the Xianzhou so you had to stay a reasonable distance away from Blade.
And you saw a friend! Ah, you hadn't seen anyone who you could label a friend for what seems to be two eternities. You managed to have a good five or ten minute conversation with them with only having to glare at Blade six times.
You also got to walk home because Blade had some urgent and sudden business he needed to take care of! So today was a win.
When you got home, you flopped onto the couch and started going on your phone and just going about your daily life thankfully without Blade.
Until you hear a sudden notification from your phone it's from Blade, and it's a photo. This can either mean two things: none of them are good and neither are things you want to think about.
Though a curious and extremely dumb part of you decided to open it, when you saw it.. You wanted to scream and throw up.
Your friend dismembered in a pool of what you can only assume to be his blood, but you wouldn't put it past Blade to kill another one of your friends just to torment you.
Besides the huge amount of blood, guts, and gore before you, you noticed something was missing. His eyes were gone. It almost feels like Blade just pulled them out with his bare hands. It all disgusted you, and the message that came after just made you even more disgusted.
"I stabbed their eyes out because I didn’t like the way they looked at you. Remember I love you but I won't hesitate to teach you a lesson."
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pastel-rights · 8 months
Note
Rate your friends
oh this anon finally decided to come around [insert tracy happy here]
uhhh it'll be underneath the cut because it's gonna be. long as hell BWAHAHA apologizing ahead of time if I get sappy 😶‍🌫️
sap
sap
sapppp
Rina [ My first real internet friend 🫡]
RINAAA I see you. I see your art. I perceive you.
And, even if we don't talk as much as we used to in the past, you'll always be the first of many great people I've met. And, I really love and appreciate your presence in my life. Dare I say it was life-altering!!
Ocean, Shamia, Arella, and all your other ocs, I'm cradling them in the palms on my hands so so lovingly. I have so many things I need to tell you to be honest !! But goddamnit I have work every night so I'm always busy doing something wahhhh
Anyways.
New Shamia reference when? I need to draw her and her blonde bitchass dog [ jack ] again they're so funny and I miss them 😭
Blue [ My lifelong irl to internet friend ]
From an IRL friend to now an online friend, we just can't get rid of each other. You're so cool...
You don't use tumblr so, I won't talk much further... but I do appreciate you. And all your silly Itto shrine moments.
Tae [ My Beloved Wife 🫶🏼]
She's the Cro to my Lee.
The Shuichi to my Kaede.
The President Barbie to my Stereotypical Barbie.
The Kafka to my Bladie [ unfortunately /lh ]
Theeeee Raiden Ei to my Yae Mikooooo.
My wife is many things to me!! I really really love your art and your writing, and you're always so kind and funny and I just wanna grrrrr I just want to hold all your ocs and all your muses so close I love them all 😭😭😭
although
YOU.
YOU
FUCKING
ASSHOLE /lh
THAT ORPHY EDIT. THOSE KAFKA BLADIE EDITS. THAT PEACE AND FRIENDSHIP TRIO EDIT. TRYING TO GASLIGHT ME INTO THINKING EVERYONE ELSE ISNT REAL. THE MURDER. THE KIDNAPPING. THE DART. THE FUCKING DART. OUGHHHHHHHHH
I HOPE YOU FALL THROUGH THE SKY, JOHN. KER-FUCKING-SPLAT, BITCH. I think you've driven me insane. A little bit.
But.
We're so good we are so good. Don't even WORRY about it.
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Sam [ My Infamous Brother-in-Tumblr Law ]
Sam you're so. /pos
I think the Immortalpheus AU has permanently altered my perception on life.
Your writing is. well. it's painful /pos
You're so cryptic and really funny yet you and your sister make me say some weird shit during work. Like the uno cards and the Dazai shenanigans and Immortalpheus moments and whenever you drop some life shattering fics and shit you drop on others.
Crazy.
You're a very nice and fun person, all jokes aside!! You're very cool and very amazing and a delight to game with and just fun to be around??? your AU lore and your bots and everything is just so.
mwah
good friend good friend!!
french /j
Piano Immortalpheus forever immortalized isn’t that funny
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Navi [ My detective in arms ]
NAVI.
OUGH.
THOSE VERITY JOURNAL ENTIRIES.
IM SO.
OUGHHHHHHH
Your art and your way of expressing your characters and your son in your writing are just soooo good I rotate them in my head so often.
Whenever I see you posting about your crimes to Tumblr, I simply giggle. Get em, Navi!!
We don't talk very often but like. I'd love to talk more. plot. commit shenanigans. heart hands.
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Fifi [ fucking fifi /lh ]
I want to clasp my hands around your neck and rattle you violently /lh /pos
How are we friends /lh
We've been friends so long, it's kind of insane??? I remember first talking to you during Amy's opening event and everything just sort of spiraled from there... and every day with you is. an experience!! /pos
Still waiting for the Tower Bifty interaction fr fr [ they try to murder each other within the first five replies /j ]
Carrie [ my favorite mike enjoyer ]
CARRRIEEEEE
Number One Mike enthusiast the real Mike enjoyer.
Im always so giddy whenever you occasionally message me, even if it's just to check on me or show me how you torment Sam /lh and your writing and way of interpreting differing IDV characters and skins is so good??? I love reading them they make me so giggly.
Overall 10/10 friend would ramble to given the chance
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Pins [ my boss /ih ]
MAFIA FISHHHHHHHHHH
stunning
beautiful
talented
pink enthusiast
My actual best friend, dare i say the bestest friend in the world???? every moment I spend with you is a blissful and amazing moment, and you've been through so much with me and the fact you stayed throughout it all????
I'm just... really glad you chose to stick with me this long. I can be a very abrasive and impulsive person, and yet you care for me, even with all my flaws and I think that just... says a lot about you.
You're the Jade to my Chiaki.
The Rook to my Epel.
The Deuce to my Ace!
Also your art just solos everything I glow whenever I see it
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Skye [ my twst buddy !! ]
Grabs you
Holds you
Rattles you
Is friend.
Is friend shaped.
Approved /lh
Four [ floyd kinnie moment ]
Stop tormenting me with the take a break floyds you SCARE me
Never will be over the fucking
Ghostbusters Floyd edit
I flex my Beans Floyd in memory of you
You’re not dead I think you’re just somewhere in the distance squeezing someone like your life depends on it
10/10 friend when we ignore the four imposed breaks /j
Beth [ my favorite aesop and naib enjoyer ]
You.
Holds you gently.
The Aesop player
The Panda Naib haver.
The beloved
The silly.
✨ Beth ✨
Your art? Immaculate. I such a adoration for your art, and whenever I’m able to catch your drawing streams??? I’m just in awe!! Your colors and outfit inspirations are just so cute so nice so well done???
You’re so. You’re so cool uwahhh
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MarioGuy [ where do you keep coming from I know damn well it isn't the door /lh ]
I feel like you kind of just break into my house sometimes and make yourself known before randomly disappearing through a non existent back door /pos
You’re a delight to be around!! Every match with you is a bit. It’s uhm. Something!! /lh
Please stop breaking into my home
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Rice [ i occasionally remember that Mi Bianca thing and cry a little ]
Every time I see you pop up in my notifications I just smile and giggle.
We don’t talk often but you’re just so cool and awesome and your muses are so funky fresh and your art is so good and ????
Yeah.
Klai [ you. ]
You.
Chaos gremlin.
You never learn.
But you’re funny so I guess it’s okay.
Your art is so. It’s like a shiny gem 💎 and I WANT it. Holding it hostage.
My precious friend’s doodles.
Never trusting you to prime a cipher though. No hard feelings /lh
10/10 friend!! 0/10 decoder though /j
Orange [ ORANGEEEE my favorite chaos gremlin ]
ORANGEEEEE 🍊
So funny
So talented
So cool
So so cool
Your art is so good, you’re so funny and talented and a wonder to talk to. Your ideas are so creative so unique and yet so unequivocally you and I just…
I love it!!
Orange stop being so cool /j
Clown [ the greatest step-parent on the scene!! ]
This is utter insanity Clown you can’t be EVERY MUSE’S step parents there has to be a LIMIT!!!
A LINE in the SAND!!!!
Clown PLEASEEE
But also your art.
I’ve talked so much about everyone’s art
Yours reminds me of the feeling of waking up on a snow day and realizing school is canceled.
It’s always such a delight to see!!
And while every time you open your mouth, I get a little more worried about you, you’re so so cool /lh
Lupi [ you. x2 ]
imagine arson? imagine it no more im approaching your house at rapidly increasing speeds with my hello kitty lighter /j
Sleepy [ 🫡 ]
Sleepy!! 🫂 so cool,,, you’re so cool,,, /pos
Emma [ Sorry. Only one monster lover can exist in this server peacefully. GET EM. - emma ]
The caption says it all.
Also Tatya stop accidentally seducing all the muses or nearly getting stabbed or exploded or hypnotized you are worrying the GIRLIES! /lh
Al [ you have the vibes of the drunk wine family member in a /pos way ]
I don’t talk to you often but whenever you come around, it makes me so giggly. You’re very funny and your art slaps!!
Joe [ joe the silliest ]
JOE
Joe
Joe!
Your art? Funky fresh.
The lore? So interesting I love the little snippets I see floating around.
You’re so creative
Your Embrace is so funny they scream sacrificial lamb uncle who’s kind of fun at parties /lh
They’ve also got a really nice and warm personality, chaotic yet chill and relatable.
Kind of reminds me of Sam but without the entities 🫶🏼
Nakki [ you. x3 ]
Grabs you like a squeaky toy
That’s it that’s everything tbh
Kory, Boris, Brian [ and the rest of the McMun's Hut /lh ]
And this goes out to all my friends and acquaintances in the McMun’s hut! What is wrong with all of you /pos/lh (except you Boris, you’re an Angel)
Everyone there is super chill and super nice, and they’re a lot of fun to be around. So many differing personalities yet it’s always a vibe somehow.
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beckydramablog · 7 years
Text
Notes from today's session - 23/01/17
Notes on performance Made in dagenham - more energy at the start, good reactions from Declan and joe when joe ruffles his hair x Connor smiling and projection at the end when he came to the front but physicality needs to be stronger. Payday, me and Matt need to rehearse our This is what we want, rehearse harmonies for 'change Chang change' Scene 3 - sid very good maybe more energy Jacob Prime minister scene - amazing characterisation even in the gesture and voice , just make sure you are still changing the pitch of the lines to add expression as well as the melody. I'm sorry I love you- nice vocals both Rita good but a bit angrier Eddie cute but maybe a bit more butch Dancers bit more confident on vocals and movement. Lisa Hopkins scene amazing Mr buck ton scene relationship between Lydia and Amy amazing, Age old story - emotion is great , gesture to back and pained look really nice , maybe stand up a bit sooner And when she's reminiscing on the good times , show a bit of light and happiness to the face , to show light and shade xx My notes I've received Busy women , more projection , Rita at the line' I had to shoot them' she needs to open out to he audience General note - open all lines out to the audience. All chorus need to research and develop a character. (Given circumstance) some ensemble need to focus more and have confidence, don't look at other women when the chorus come in with the singing and/ or ' we've got this feeling this wonderful feeling' as all the women are in seperate location. Think about expression. Next time run the warm up x Chloe b , chris and I run a vocal warm up Lizzy and Matt run a physical warm up. Made in Dagenham - volume was great, each character needs to be a bit more masculine and more defined. Maybe a bit more animation. Don't wait for blocking , fill the time with imaginative movements. Listen and respond to the soloists. Women factory scene 2 - no one drinks tea past the line 'yeah yeah yeah!' Expressions and characters defined - much bigger and larger with a more consistent amount of ensemble reactions from the lines monty gives and the jokes beryl delivers eg 'he's a master BAKER is he?' This is what we want - more reactions from the funny lines e.g. 'Doors blown off by Michale cane' - a reference to the Italian job 'blow the blady doors off!' Also he's a cockney like the girls. Lewis Hollis was really. Characterised and detailed in payday Consistency of accents in the sid, bill monty and Hopkins. Ready to the line 'what about the girls in dunton' - Dunton Girls need to be taking the mock of me in wossaname xx especially girls at the back need to come forward and react. Prime ministers scenes deliver lines out to the audience and babara needs to stand ground more and be off script for next week so she can remember movements with confidence. Pay day, need to work on the strength of the vocals and the confidence of the movement as it was quite weak. Scene , comical timing of joke by chubby chuff need improvement to ensure the comedy impact on the audience through the delivery of the jokes. For next week , all cast need a clear and defined character that they have researched and developed , next Monday we will do an hour long hot seating exercise in order to test the strength and depth of your character. Dress like the character and look at where I came from. Babara needs to learn lines. Build strength in character Lisa lovely voice but more physicality and confidence. Variation in vocal tone of characters , no flicking hair. 'Stop it!' - house at interpretations of lines
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