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azrielsdove · 6 months

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Hi! It has been years since i’ve written like this, but after becoming obsessed with the ACOTAR series I needed to write again. This is my first one in a long time so it may be a little rough. Please let me know what you think!

Warnings: 18+, Mature

Fake Dating: Azriel x Reader

Your eyes traveled down his face, his body, catching on the tattoos swirling his arms, letting out a soft sigh. From beside you came a small chuckle, “If you stare at him any harder you’re going to burn a hole through his skin.” You turned and glared at the Shadowsinger, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. “Hush, Azriel.” You muttered before turning back to look at Rhysand.

You had met Azriel nearly 300 years ago now, right after they completed the blood rite. You were healing his injuries, chatting with him as you do all your patients. You learned all about his brothers, Cassian and Rhysand. When he was all patched up, he took you over to meet them. The first time your eyes locked onto the future High Lord, you knew you were fucked.

Once Rhysand became the official High Lord, Azriel came to offer you a job with them. You asked why, as you certainly weren’t bad at what you do, but there were definitely more talented healers to choose from. He said Rhys wanted you and only you, and you weren’t going to argue with that. That night you packed up the few things you had and Azriel brought you to Velaris.

Your feelings for Rhysand never faded, much to your dismay. You were tired of your heart wanting him, needing him. He never gave any hint he saw you in the same way, and you knew you had to give it up. Yet everytime you tried to look to another or brought a male to your bed, you would always end up thinking of him.

Azriel knew of your feelings and teased you endlessly about it. Usually you just rolled your eyes at him, but as time went on the more wound up you became. You felt him move closer to you on the sofa you were perched on, bowing his head to whisper in your ear.

“Have you thought about making him jealous?” He muttered, warm breath tickling your neck. You shook your head slightly, confused by what he meant. “Who’s to say he would even care?” You whispered back, casting a sad glance over to where Rhysand sat with Cassian. “It’s worth a try. You’ve done everything else. Maybe he needs to think you’ve lost interest.” He spoke as you looked at him. “How would I convince him of that?” you asked quietly, eyes searching Azriels. He leaned in close again, a sudden shiver reaching down your spine as his lips touched your ear.

“Pretend to date me.”

***

You played Azriels plan over and over in your head, pacing in your room. You two were the closest out of everyone, so it wouldn’t be much of a shock if you seemingly started to share affections. There was a good chance Rhysand wouldn’t even care, and where would that leave you and Azriel? When you brought this up, he laughed and said it wouldn’t be hard to pose an amicable “break up”. If it didn’t work, maybe it would be the realization you needed to take your attentions off Rhys. There were many beautiful males in Velaris, you were certain your heart could latch onto one if it would just accept that Rhys didn’t want you.

You slept terribly, tossing and turning as you went over the pros and the cons. In the end you decided it was worth trying. Either you get the man of your dreams, or you can finally move on from him. Azriel was your closest friend and you knew he would play his role perfectly and make you feel comfortable. When the morning came you caught Azriel before breakfast, telling him you agreed to his plan. You did not like the way his eyes lit up at that.

You entered the kitchen together, ready to grab some food after a long night. As you reached for a piece of toast, you felt a hand settle onto the small of your back. Azriel reached around you, grabbing some for himself as he ducked his head to whisper “The plan starts now,” before pressing the lightest kiss to your cheek. Your skin heats up on contact, not used to receiving affection like this. You give a small nod as you finish grabbing your food and go to sit. Azriel sits down next to you, as he usually does. However, he scoots his chair the tiniest bit closer to you, catching the eyes of Cassian. He refrains from saying anything, instead looking at the two of you curiously.

The rest of breakfast proceeds as normal and you start to get used to the game. At training Azriel allows his hands to linger on you longer than usual, stands closer than he normally does, and whispers his instructions in your ears. You allow soft smiles and slightly pink cheeks to show, leaning into his touch on more than one occasion. Enough for the others to be interested, but not enough for anyone to say anything. Yet.

The next few days pass much the same, and you know your friends are dying to hound you with questions. Out of respect for Azriel they seem to round themselves in, not wanting to ambush you guys quite yet. As the week ends it is decided to go out and spend some time together. It had been quite a while since all of you had a nice night.

You got dressed, thumbing through the dresses Mor tends to shower you with. You pull one out, a stunning midnight blue number. You loved the feeling of the material on your skin as you gazed at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was in an elegant updo, your makeup perfectly done to highlight the best features of your face, and the dress….it was everything. It sat off the shoulder as it trailed down your body, every step making the fabric shimmer. There were two slits on both sides leading up to the tops of your thighs. You nearly looked the poster child for Night Court fashion.

When you met the others downstairs Mor looked over you appreciatively, grabbing the dress in her hands. “It’s perfect!!” she squealed, pulling you farther into the group. Cassian gave a whistle as you spun, throwing your head back with laughter. Suddenly warm hands appeared on your waist, squeezing lightly. You turn to Azriel, who has a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “Beautiful.” Is all he says as you smile up at him. You look over his black attire and could say the same. You hear a small cough and look to see Rhys, staring at you with an unreadable expression. “I think we should go,” he says, perhaps a bit cooly. Azriel wraps you in his arms as you fly down to the glittering city below.

***

As nights with the Inner Circle tend to go, you ended up filing into Rita’s. You let the music wash over you as you take a shot from Mor, quickly downing it. Rhysand acted completely normal at dinner, and has already gone to find a female to entertain him here. You were a little dismayed, but you weren’t going to let that ruin your evening. You settled into the normal booth you all took as Azriel slid in next to you. Mor and Cassian left to get more shots, and Azriel quickly pulled you onto his lap. You let out a gasp at his actions, moving to get off. His hands tightened on you as he murmured , “We need to up it a little. He almost seemed jealous before he left, didn’t he?”. You nodded before settling more into Azriels grasp. Soon Mor and Cassian were back, with Rhys not far behind. They all looked at you before looking at each other, eyes glittering as they shared a common thought.

You took shot after shot, desperately wanting to forget everything. Rhysand kept ignoring you and too many beautiful females were coming to the table. Eventually he seemed to tire a little of this, and turned to the group. “A game?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Mor laughed and Cassian banged his hand on the table, always ready for some friendly competition. You couldn’t help but wish Amren was here, she was excellent at beating them in any sort of game.

“Truth or Drink!” Cassian yelled, ever the young boy you had first met. You rolled your eyes but nodded, noticing Azriels hand start tracing the skin on your calf. You thought nothing of it until you felt him place a light kiss to your shoulder, sending chills over your skin. You turn to him with a smile, muttering “What are you doing?” through your teeth. He leaned down and placed a kiss right under your ear, squeezing your waist with one hand as you gave a small gasp. “Making him jealous” he stated, bringing his hand up a little higher and adding another kiss to your shoulder. You turned your attention back to the others, trying to not react to Azriels touch.

Almost immediately Cassian and Mor got in an argument about his question to her, turning all attention to them. Azriels hands slid higher and higher as he softly caressed the middle of your thigh. He began pressing more kisses to your neck, the hand on your thigh drawing circles on your skin. His teeth drug across the soft skin of your neck as you let your head fall back. You were struggling to focus on the game or on your friends. You knew this wasn’t real, that you weren’t supposed to be feeling like this. You hoped Azriel thought you were just playing along and that he didn’t realize the heat radiating from you.

That is until his hand traveled high enough he could feel the slickness that had traveled down your thigh. Until he lightly sucked the skin under your ear and you gave him a small moan. He stopped everything he was doing, his hand gripping tight on your thigh. You pulled your head up to look at him with wide eyes, but he was looking elsewhere. You followed his gaze to…Rhysand. You locked eyes with Rhys, shocked by the anger and jealousy in them. You genuinely didn’t believe this plan would work, but it seems it is. “If you two are done fucking each other in front of us, we have a game to get to,” he spat out. Your face flushed red as you readjusted on Azriel. His hand stayed on your thigh as the night went on, but he didn’t move again.

***

The next morning you lay awake in your bed. You were thinking about how Rhys seemed jealous, and that maybe this plan wasn’t totally irrational. However you were also thinking about the feeling of Azriels hands and lips on your skin, a burning in your stomach as you remembered. You ran your hands over your eyes and tried to forget how good he felt touching you. You jumped into a cold bath, forcing all hot thoughts away from you. This was all a game to get Rhysands attention. Azriel did not even like you like that. You needed to get over the way he made you feel.

Over the next few days you and Azriel fell back into your plan, lingering touches and longing gazes. Nothing like that night at Rita’s though. You felt a gnawing in your gut as you realized that made you a little upset. You leaned against a cold wall in the hallway, trying to calm your racing mind.

You heard footsteps coming towards you and you shot your eyes open. You relaxed a little to see it was Azriel. That relaxed feeling quickly changed as he slid is body in front of yours and pressed you back into the wall. Your arms shot to his chest, moving to push him away. He locked his hands on your waist before dipping down and biting under your ear. Your mouth dropped open and he whispered “He’s coming this way. Play along.” You nodded before he began kissing and sucking on your neck, one hand sliding under your shirt. Your hands gripped onto his clothes as you moved your neck to give him more room. His lips were bruising on your skin and you felt that familiar heat rise in your core. His hand traveled across your stomach, tracing the soft skin there. He gave a particularly harsh suck on the spot where your neck met your collarbone and you arched into him. His hand started playing with your waistband, almost begging to go down.

“Azriel..” you breathed, body on fire from his touch. You felt him smile on your skin before his fingers dipped lower. Your heart rate quickened, unsure how far you would take this game. You were scared when you realized you didn’t want him to stop. His fingers found you over your underwear, pressing down onto that bundle of nerves. You arched into him again as you moaned out his name, forgetting where you are and why you are doing this. His head comes up to look at you, his eyes full of heat. He presses again to hear you make that delicious noise for him. He bends his head to hover his lips over yours, beginning to slide your underwear out of the way. Everything is on fire, you can’t handle this teasing, you don’t want to wait for him anymore-

“What is going on here?”

Azriel lets out a low growl of frustration as he pulls away from you, glaring at Rhysand. You straighten your shirt and glance over too, shocked by the anger in his eyes. “What does it matter to you?” Azriel asked coldly. Your eyes couldn’t decide which of the men to look at as you observed the situation in front of you. Rhys scoffed as he said “I’m just not interested in watching you whore yourself out around my home.” You felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes, mortified at what he had said. Azriel stiffened as he spoke, “That’s enough. We weren’t doing anything wrong. Do not act as though you are so much better, High Lord.” Rhysands hands clenched into fists as he stared Azriel down, his dark power beginning to fill the hall. You found yourself reaching out to grab onto Azriels arm as the darkness got closer. An action Rhys did not miss. “What would he have to offer that I do not?” he spat. You immediately noticed the hurt come across Azriel and the regret that passed through Rhysands face as he realized what was said. You didn’t want to hear this anymore. You pulled Azriel back down the hall, away from the ashamed shape of Rhysand.

***

It had been a month since that incident. Azriel left Velaris to train in the mountains and Rhys avoided you completely. Mor and Cassian tried their best to keep you occupied, but everyone could feel the tension. No one knew what had happened between you three and no one was brave enough to ask. Only Amren had rolled her eyes about it and muttered something about “incompetent men and their emotions”.

You were curled up in one of the chairs in the small library of the house when you felt eyes on you. You looked around to find Rhysand standing there. You noticed that the little skip your heart usually does was absent. “I have come to apologize.” He said softly, hands in his pockets. “I’ve noticed how you look at me over these years and I grew to accept it as fact. It was harder than I expected to find you with Az. I didn’t mean what I said. It was unfair to you. I am truly sorry.” He spared a glance up at you to gauge how you felt. You looked at him with tired eyes. “I longed after you for so many years, Rhys. I tried to pretend I didn’t want you and failed everytime. It wasn’t until Az that I began to realize there may be someone else for me. It didn’t start off real. All I ever wanted was to be enough for you.” Your words faltered on that last sentence. You caught Rhys’ surprised expression as he came closer and grabbed your hands. “You were always enough.” He whispered, sinking to his knees in front of you. “I am so sorry. I took advantage of your feelings. I liked how you quietly sought after me. I should never have let it go on so long.” He pressed a kiss to your hands before laying his head on them.

You pulled one hand out of his grasp to thread your fingers through his hair. “Rhys,” you sighed softly, “it is not just me who needs your apology. What you said to Azriel was very wrong and you know it. You need to find him and convince him to come home. Please.” He looked up at you, his eyes lined with tears. He nodded as he stood, releasing your hand. “You’re right. I will not be the one to destroy this family. Not over who you choose to love.” He began to walk away, preparing to find Azriel. “Rhys,” you called after him, “tell him to find me when he is back. We have much to discuss.”

***

A few days later you were relaxing in your bath when your door crashed open. You jumped and looked to see Azriel standing in the pieces of your bathroom door. You guessed Rhys and him got their emotions out, as he had bruises on his face and arms. Yet his eyes shone brightly. Especially as he realized the predicament you were in.

He walked over to you without hesitation and plucked you out of the bath. You squealed in protest but quickly hushed when he placed you on your vanity and stood between your legs. His eyes burned over your body. You felt that heat curl around you again as his hands gripped onto your thighs. “You told me to find you.” He spoke, eyes locking with yours. All you could do was nod, not quite having words to use at the moment. “What is it, my little bird? What do you need?” His words dropped to a deadly whisper as he leaned in close. Your eyes widened when his hand moved to cup your heat. “A-Az,” you stuttered out, mind going blank. “Tell me what you need.” He growled, letting his fingers gently explore you. You let out a frustrated moan and pulled him closer to whisper in his ear.

“Touch me Azriel.”

That was all it took for his fingers to plunge into you, causing your back to arch against the mirror behind you. His mouth caught yours, the action making you gasp. He took advantage of that to slide his tounge into yours and explore. He broke away to continue kissing down your neck, down your chest. His fingers curled in you, hitting that perfect spot that sent lighting down your back. Within seconds his mouth was on your thighs, working his way to you. He pulled you to the edge of the vanity and licked up your folds. You grabbed his hair and moaned his name, so close to your finish. The second his lips attached to your bud your eyes rolled back in your head, wave after wave of pleasure coating you. He devoured you through it, not stopping once the pleasure had subsided. He continued to increase everything he was doing until another orgasm washed over you with a scream. Only then did he pause, but only long enough to pull you down and turn you to face the mirror.

“I want you to watch how well you take me.” He says into your ear, pulling himself out. You tried to turn and look but he forced your head back towards the mirror, making you take in the sight before you. You looked at yourself, at the bruising marks leading down your body from his mouth, at the handprints on your thighs from his grip. You saw your flushed face and swollen lips, looking fucked out. You looked up to see Azriels reflection, his eyes a burning fire, his lips wet with you. A shudder passed through your body at the enticing sight of him. You felt him slide his tip through your wet folds, preparing to slide into you. Carefully he pushed in and you saw your mouth create a perfect “o” at the sensation. He was bigger than anyone you had ever taken before. Inch by inch he slid in until you were perfectly seated on him. He put his hands on yours on the tabletop, pressing them down. His lips met your neck, pressing harsh bites down. “Watch as I make you forget any other male exists.” He growls, thrusting in and out of you. You are so sensitive after two orgasms that the pleasure takes root instantly. Moan after moan slide past your lips as Azriel takes you as his. One hand slides up to find your most sensitive place again, rubbing small circles. “I want to feel you cum on my cock.” He commands as his actions speed up. You feel that all too familiar tightening in your belly as you squeeze down on him, tears flowing at the overstimulation. Azriel gives you a soft kiss on your cheek, never ceasing his thrusting. “Such a good girl for me. You can give me one more, my perfect girl. One more.” He whispers against your skin. You want to say you don’t think you have any more in you when he adjusts and hits the perfect spot inside of you. You scream again, fingernails digging into the table. You feel Azriel speed up and his fingers connect to you again. He bites down on your shoulder as he hits that perfect spot inside again and you let go for a fourth time. You yelling his name and squeezing around him has him finish deep, letting out a roar as he emptied himself in you.

The room is quiet aside from the sounds of your heavy breathing. You are certain if Azriel backs away you will collapse to the ground. He slowly pulls out and you let out a soft whine at the emptiness you feel. He gently scoops you up and runs a fresh bath. Within minutes he is fully undressed and in the bath with you, cradling your body to his. He washes your sore skin, paying close attention to the marks he left on you. You could fall asleep right there, with his hands massaging your body and your back against his chest. Az notices and takes great care pulling you out with him, bundling you in a warm towel. He carries you to your bed and slides under the covers with you. You curl up into his chest, feeling more calm and sated than you had in centuries.

***

You half expected it to be a dream. The first thing you notice when you wake up is Azriel still holding you tight. The second thing you notice is how deliciously sore your body is. Heat curls up through you again at the feeling, and Azriel stirs. His eyes open slowly and he looks down at you. He reaches up to push your hair out of your face before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Good morning my sweet girl.” he says, kissing you again. “Good morning Az.” you mumble back before grabbing his mouth again. You groan in frustration as he pulls away and laughs. “We have to talk about it.” He points out, and you’d rather him just take you again.

You roll onto your back and let out a breath before saying, “I know.” You turn to look at him again and pause to collect your thoughts. “I do not want this to be a game, Az. I do not care about Rhysand. The only male I can think of is you. It has been this way since this all started. You have been here the whole time and I was too busy pining after someone who would never want me to notice it. I want to be with you, Az. I want it to be you and me.” You start off confident, but your words lose the feeling as you go on. You look at him without breathing, afraid of what he may say. Instead, he pulls you close to him and says;

“Why do you think I came up with this plan in the first place?”

****

Thank you for reading! I’d love to know what you all think and please send any requests you have for other stories! <3

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #azriel #rhysand #acotar #azriel smut

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twinsimming · 1 year

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I posted 105 times in 2022

That's 44 more posts than 2021!

93 posts created (89%)

12 posts reblogged (11%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@twinsimming

@simbouquet

@jamiegirlposts

@bioniczombie

I tagged 105 of my posts in 2022

#twin is talking - 65 posts

#asks - 59 posts

#sims 3 - 42 posts

#ts3 - 39 posts

#download - 38 posts

#my cc - 36 posts

#4t3 - 35 posts

#4 to 3 conversion - 35 posts

#ts3cc - 35 posts

#s3cc - 35 posts

Longest Tag: 37 characters

#i’ve been waiting for a mod like this

My Top Posts in 2022:

Yoga Mod by Twinsimming & Alunn 🧘🏾‍♀️

This mod brings the yoga activity from The Sims 4: Spa Day to The Sims 3. Originally created by Alunn, I recently took over to add additional features and bring it to release!

This is a script mod that can be placed in your Packages folder. It was built and tested on 1.69 but should work fine on 1.67.

Overview

New Object: Yoga Mat

4 New Interactions

49 Converted Animations

10 Yoga Poses

Objects

Entertainment -> Sporting Goods

The Perfect Yoga Mat: two channels | §130 |

Zen Again Yoga Mat: two channels | §125 |

| All TS4 presets included and base game compatible |

The yoga mat is draggable in Live Mode and can be placed in a sim’s personal or family inventory.

Yoga Mat

Using any of the yoga mat interactions will build the Athletic skill (except for Children), though some more slowly than others. As your sim’s skill increases, they will learn new yoga poses and improve on their execution of previous ones.

A sim’s Athletic skill also determines how long they can use the mat before becoming Fatigued* (anywhere from 4-7 hours):

Skill Level 1-3 (Poor/Novice): 4 hours

Skill Level 4-6 (Normal): 5 hours

Skill Level 7-9 (Skilled): 6 hours

Skill Level 10 (Expert): 7 hours

*Children will always get Fatigued after 3 hours.

Your sim won’t gain muscle, lose weight, or become more fit from using the mat, but they will fulfill any generic workout related wishes. And sims won’t lose Hygiene as fast as they would using other athletic equipment.

Sims aged Teen and up will switch into their athletic outfit, take off their shoes before using the mat, and put them back on when finished. Children will switch into their athletic outfit, but leave their shoes on.

Pregnant sims can use the mat in any trimester!

Interactions

Practice Yoga (Child and Up): Raises Athletic skill, gives sims the Tranquil moodlet after 2 hours, small boost to Fun need

See the full post

644 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

Contemporary Teen Bedroom Set 🛏

Hi everyone, I’ve finished my first set of conversions from The Sims 4: High School Years! I’m breaking the objects up into sets since EA did a really good job this time around making complete sets of bedroom furniture. The first one up is contemporary themed and includes a bed, desk, dresser, end table, shelving unit, rug, and a few other décor items.

Most of the objects included have overlays on some areas while others remain CAStable. I did this to provide as much flexibility as possible for customization, so there are several CAStable presets available for each object. The top photo is fully decorated and the bottom photo shows just the objects that come in the set.

I don’t want to make this post too terribly long, so if you’re curious about where an object in the top preview photo came from please don’t hesitate to ask!

Comfort

Slightly Sneaky Storage Double Bed Frame: one channel | §50 |

Slightly Sneaky Storage Double Bed Pillows: three channels | §400 |

Slightly Sneaky Storage Double Mattress: four channels | §300 |

Décor

Artistic Assembly: non-CAStable | §65 |

Hobby Holders: non-CAStable | §100 |

Rug Hongry: one channel | §65 |

Study Stacks Expanded: non-CAStable | §65 |

Storage

Drawers for my Drawers: three channels | §410 |

Surfaces

For Star Shelving: three channels | §140 |

Simple Yet Stylish Wooden Desk: three channels | §450 |

Steadfast Side Table: three channels | §140 |

| All TS4 presets included and base game compatible |

Credit: meshes by EA, mesh by aikea-guinea, The Sims 4, Sims4Studio, TSRW, Blender, Milkshape, Photoshop, and Gimp.

Download (SFS, package) | Mirror (MEGA, package)

Experiencing issues with my conversions? Inbox me. Enjoy! 💙

651 notes - Posted September 13, 2022

See the full post

679 notes - Posted April 13, 2022

INSOMNIA by Charly Pancakes Conversions 💤

Charly Pancakes is one of my favorite custom content creators for The Sims 4, so naturally I had to have their stuff in The Sims 3 as well! I’ve converted all six items from their INSOMNIA set to share with you today. This set contains a wardrobe, a bed frame, a mattress, a small potted plant, a rug, and a functional candle.

The floor plant is from kandiraver-sims here, the suitcase end table is from Around The Sims 3 here, the wall art is from julietsimsccblog here, the mirror and hand sculpture are previous conversions of mine here and here, and the flooring is from pixelfrogslegs here.

Comfort

Double Bed Frame [by Charly Pancakes]: one channel | §370 |

Organic Cotton Bedding [by Charly Pancakes]: four channels | §260 |

Décor

Insomnia Small Plant [by Charly Pancakes]: one channels | §60 |

Insomnia Rug [by Charly Pancakes]: two channels | §170 |

Lighting

Birdskull Candle [by Charly Pancakes]: one channel | §80 |

Storage

Insomnia Wardrobe [by Charly Pancakes]: two channels | §580 |

| All TS4 presets included and base game compatible |

Credit: meshes by @charlypancakes, The Sims 4, Sims4Studio, TSRW, Blender, Milkshape, Photoshop, and Gimp.

Download (SFS, package) | Mirror (MEGA, package)

Experiencing issues with my conversions? Inbox me. Enjoy! 💙

792 notes - Posted June 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Country Cottage Kitchen Set 🥚

Happy new year everyone! 🥳 I haven’t converted a kitchen set since 2020, which means it’s past time for another one! @hideoutpeach sent me an ask a while back about converting items from the Sims 4: Country Kitchen Kit, so I converted everything with the exception of the sink and cabinets. I also converted my favorite fridge from the Sims 4: Cottage Living!

I also just hit 1,000 followers on this blog! I’m so glad so many of you like my conversions, it means a lot to me!! 💙💙💙

Appliances

ReFridgeAdeezer - by Re FrostyFridge Corporation: three channels | $500 |

Pancakes at Dawn Stove: three channels | $600 |

Country Charm Fridge: two channels | $1750 |

Décor

Handy-Dandy Flower Caddy: two channels | $35 |

Granny's Cozy Casserole Dish: one channel | $83 |

Nicki Knack's Anything 'n Everything Jar: non-CAStable | $45 |

Heritage Bread Box: three channels | $75 |

Heritage Flour Tin: two channels | $63 |

Bountiful Bucket: non-CAStable | $57 |

Surfaces

Country Charm Shelf: one channel | $165 |

| All TS4 presets included and base game compatible |

Credit: meshes by EA, The Sims 4, Sims4Studio, TSRW, Blender, Milkshape, Photoshop, and Gimp.

Download (SFS, package) | Mirror (MEGA, package)

Experiencing issues with my conversions? Inbox me. Enjoy! 💙

1,179 notes - Posted January 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #non sims

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gremoria411 · 1 year

Text

Just for fun, let’s think up a list of reasons as to why Mcgillis chose not to use the Fareed Family Gundam.

It was destroyed/lost in the calamity war.

It reminds him of Iznario, and he wants to reject that connection.

It’s got a very specific way of fighting (like Flauros) and he wants something with a more generalist bent.

He feels a greater kinship with Agnika Kaieru than he does the Fareed family founder.

It was the 72nd Gundam frame built, and was completed postwar, thus running counter to Mcgillis’ ambitions to be like his idol.

It’s been chained up in a similar manner to how Bael eventually will be.

It was scrapped to repair another Gundam frame.

It’s biometrically locker to a blood member of the Fareed family for some reason.

The previous pilot was an amputee, and didn’t so much pilot the Gundam in so much as they were “plugged in”. (Think Gundam Thunderbolt).

Iznario (or a prior member of the Fareed Family) sold it, or parts of it, for bread money (as the Warrens did).

It was stolen by Gundam thieves.

It requires three pilots.

The colours clash horribly with his hair.

Despite their great combat skill, the Fareed family founder was just kind of a prick, and nobody looks on their history with much fondness.

The Fareed family founder was very small by modern standards, and the cockpit’s uncomfortable to sit in for any length of time.

The hands were damaged, and are now in the permanent pose of throwing up gang signs.

Bael’s just, like, so much cooler.

It’s really, really uncomfortable to look at for a significant period of time.

Any time it’s activated, the Fareed family founder’s custom mixtape of post-calamity rap starts playing and nobody knows how to turn it off.

It’s haunted.

Iznario lost it in a poorly conceived bet.

It’s likeness was bought out by a prominent snack food corporation some years back, and as such it legally is not allowed to be viewed by anyone.

The door to it in Vingolf is stuck, and nobody ever noticed until Mcgillis came along.

Somebody spilled drink on the controls, and now they feel weirdly sticky.

The cockpit’s stuffed with body pillows, and nobody can bring themself to clean them out.

It’s lying at the bottom of the ocean after someone took it for a joyride.

It’s got an absolutely awful paint job that Norba Shino would be proud of.

It’s uninsured.

It was mounted on the prow of the Fareed family ship, and it’s exceedingly difficult to remove.

It’s stored in multiple separate locations. All Vingolf has is a pair of legs and the right hand.

It’s currently being used as a soundstage for a prominent punk-rock band on Jupiter, and no-one’s sure when the lease ends.

It has the words “free ice-cream” prominently painted on it somewhere.

It achieved sentience and promptly grabbed some popcorn.

The Fareed family never had a Gundam, and just killed that many mobile armours with conventional tactics.

It’s covered in rust.

It doesn’t have nanolaminate armour for some reason.

It’s being used as a power source for Gjallarhorn’s premier health spa and resort.

The Fareed family threw it into the sun when the war ended, believing they wouldn’t need it anymore.

It’s been repaired really badly, and the duct tape and welding really doesn’t inspire confidence.

It’s off starring in its own, less successful show.

It’s got a hit play on broadway.

It runs off a subscription service, and nobody’s been paying it for the last 300 years.

Mcgillis has really poor gatcha rolls, so he just got 26 common rarity grazes instead.

It’s really a Leo somebody scotch-taped a v-fin to.

The entire Gundam is made of cardboard.

Mcgillis forgot the password to get into the hangar, and he can’t ask Iznario.

Somebody doodled angry eyes and a handlebar moustache on it, and nobody can look at it without cracking up.

It was taken apart, then reassembled incorrectly. (It’s got a leg sticking out of where it’s head should be, and nobody’s sure where the sword ended up)

He can’t activate it without deleting the entire Fareed family’s Doom highscores.

It’s currently being used to hold a massive tv that the rest of Gjallarhorn use to watch the hockey.

It is currently on fire.

When he went to pick it up, two of the engineers were using it to hold a romantic candlelit dinner and he felt awkward interrupting so he hasn’t been back since.

A head of the Fareed family used it as the site of a drunken party and when everyone came round from their hangover it was just gone, and nobody could remember what happened to it.

It looks exactly like the Gundam Dantalion, and records have been lost as to why this is the case.

It’s currently being used as a scarecrow.

Feel free to add any more in the comments!

#gundam #gundam ibo #iron blooded orphans #Mcgillis #Gundam frame #Fareed Family Gundam #ramblings

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transformers-mosaic · 1 year

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Transformers: Mosaic #328 - "Shogun"

Originally posted on January 12th, 2009

Story, Art - Iván Mas

deviantART | Seibertron | TFW2005 | BotTalk

wada sez: A Bludgeon-focused strip set in an alternate version of IDW's continuity—sort of along the lines of Evolutions. Mas offered his own commentary on the strip on his deviantART; I’ve mirrored it and some behind-the-scenes material below, along with an entirely separate strip in a similar vein written by Enric Farguell that was apparently rejected by the Mosaic editors on the basis that it wasn’t “sequential art”. I decided to reach out to my friend Sam to get an independent view on the strip’s cultural background:

Sam sez: So Sekigahara was one of the last big battles of the warring states period. The narrator is a Toyotomi loyalist, while the Tokugawa he is talking about is Ieyasu Tokugawa, who will win the battle, establish the Tokugawa shogunate and his territory of Edo will become capital and eventually modern day Tokyo. It’s basically standard tonal samurai stuff, all “my death brings honour to my family” and that. A bit orientalist in tone here for sure, but there’s an element of truth to be had. The thing is there’s an official Transformers thing from Japan that is exactly this—not exactly, in that Bludgeon isn’t there, but there was a Warring States/Transformers crossover thing during the Age of Extinction windup. [wada sez: Sam was thinking of a collaboration between TakaraTomy and a company that made actual armor/swords inspired by Sengoku period factions, and also wanted to mention that one time the protagonist of Sengoku Basara showed up on Q-Transformers.] The thing about Japan is that this is all happening 500 years ago so it’s about far out enough for this to be easily mined for fantasy stories. Lots of fiction about what if there were literally demons on both sides and such.

Well, I think it's one of the mosaics I've made that I like the most.

I think it is quite complete in many aspects, we have on the one hand a small historical study of documentation.

It is one of the most famous battles in the history of Japan, Sekigahara, which ended up deciding the Tokugawa Shogunate with Oda Nobunaga, for the next 300 years and which was one of the bloodiest in memory.

So... somehow I link what is the IDW transformers universe with real facts, as we know, in the IDW universe some important politicians or military leaders are under decepticon influence, in Infiltration, but... because they couldn't start said infiltration from Japan?

It could have been, and that is what I wanted to propose, so whoever was Shogun won this battle thanks to some decepticons infiltrating their ranks, commanded by a Bludgeon, something that seems obvious to me since its samurai-style design always amazes me. It seemed a bit unjustifiable.

However, the story is told by a general in the ranks of Toyotomi. Trying to follow the samurai spirit a bit, it follows that this samurai is going to die. I took this image from a statue in Japan and it served me very well both for its pose and its shape to convey what I wanted, also, we can say that... it is another nod to something existing.

I know that maybe it is a bit complicated to read, but I was interested, since the story is told by a guy, that the typography was more calligraphic, so to speak.

The last balloon surely costs more, the one in Bludgeon, but it is intentional, as you can see, its appearance is very unpleasant, and I wanted the test globe to convey the same thing, that it be dirty, illegible, aesthetically ugly, unpleasant, in order to help give the personality of Bludgeon, who by the way, already gives a clue about the Infiltration that we said before.

Even so, I think that on the mosaics page there are problems with the resolution, a pity.

If you look closely, my signature appears with Japanese characters at the bottom left, and the whole frame has a great job, the blood stains are evident why I have put them, and if we look at the page as it progresses, it acquires that reddish tone, giving to understand that the battle hardens.

Another detail is the Mosaic logo, which... if we look closely, I decided to put a "What if..." implying that it was a kind of separate universe. In addition, in the header, we have the signs of the two banners, if you search a bit, as a curiosity you will see that the one on the left is the Tokugawa sign, mixed with the decep symbol.

And a little more.... I did the page in pencil with gradients, it is a very grateful technique but somewhat slow and tiring, however, it turned out well.

#Transformers #Transformers Mosaic #Maccadam #IDW Transformers #Iván Mas #Bludgeon

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sivavakkiyar · 1 year

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“Ramakrishna said the report on Keeladi is the “first of its kind in Tamil Nadu” and took a year to complete. He had begun documentation work in December 2021 with a core group of 10 members comprising archaeologists, experts, draughtsmen, and photographers.

Nearly 6,000 artefacts were unearthed during the first two phases of the Keeladi dig, which the excavation report termed as a “unicultural” site. The report details how Keeladi became an urban centre due to a slow and steady growth in rice production, which also increased internal and external trade and commerce activities. The settlement was also an animal-based economy focused on cattle (cows and bulls), buffalo, sheep, and goats, dated between the 8th century before common era and the 3rd century common era.

According to Ramakrishna, the lack of detailed reports of previous excavations has posed difficulties in documenting Tamil Nadu’s historical record, for instance, in fixing dates. He said the Sangam Period is dated to 300 before common era to 300 common era, based on literary references but archaeology can authenticate these literary references. “It is important to excavate sites, but it is equally important to document everything”, Ramakrishna told Scroll. “

#Tamil Nadu #archaeology #kind of a clickbaity title in the sense that most of the article is about the actual site #and that statement is mostly ‘yeah we just don’t have enough data to actual determine that so let’s slow our roll”

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charlie-rulerofhell · 3 years

Text

For they know exactly what they do

Today there was a pretty long article published in the German newspaper FAZ, written by Julia Schaaf. Since there were quite a few interesting topics raised in it and Måneskin talked about some new aspects (or in more detail), I translated the whole thing (it might also have helped me to procrastinate).

Full interview in English under the cut.

For they know exactly what they do

June 22, 2021

Four young rock musicians from Rome are today's hottest band. Måneskin are enchanting Europe. Why? We met them for an interview.

Every romance needs its founding myth, an anecdote from the beginning, something you can tell later in more difficult times for self-assurance.

In the case of the band Måneskin, who first had Italy and now half of Europe wrapped around their fingers, and who are now trying to conquer the rest of the world with their rock music, there is the story of the shoe box. Rome, around five years ago: Four teenagers who are meeting every day after school in their rehearsal room to make music together, and sometimes they play their songs on the Via del Corso in the city centre in front of a changing audience. One day they want to record their own stuff. They find a studio that they can actually afford and as they go there they bring a shoe box, with the name of the band written on it, 'moonshine' in Danish, the bassist's mother is Danish. In the box: around seven kilogram of coins. The things you get from playing music on the streets. Everyone searching through Instagram for photos from that time can find four hippies with children's faces, three boys in batik, the girl is wearing a straw hat.

As they have to pay [for the recording], frontman Damiano David, 22, says that there was this guy, Angelo, and his bandmate Victoria De Angelis, 21, is interrupting: “No, Andrea, not Angelo”, and all of them have to laugh because a rigid studio manager with the Italian name 'angel' would be even funnier for a founding myth. David continues his story: “The guy was completely dumbfounded. 'We can't do that.' We went: 'Sure we can, that's worth the same even if it's just 20 cent coins, it's still 300 euros.” Thomas Raggi, 20, the guitarist of the band, is gasping for air as he laughs, while drummer Ethan Torchio, 20, is smiling dreamily. David finishes: “And then we snuck off before he was able to count it.” [the German text says 'verdrücken' here which is just a colloquial way of saying 'we left', but it entails some sort of a dramatic exit, so yeah, let your thoughts get creative how they left exactly :D].

Four young musicians on the verge of global fame are sitting on a white interview sofa in Berlin, completely styled, babbling across each other like overeager teenagers.

Ever since the Roman band first won the music festival Sanremo and then also the Eurovision Song Contest, carried by the enthusiasm of European viewers, you could say Måneskin has become a phenomenon. “Rock 'n' Roll never dies!”, Damiano David yelled fueled by the adrenaline of winning, and the insinuation that circulated on social media of the singer snorting during the counting of votes in front of a live camera – including their strict denial followed by a negative drug test result – might have given an additional boost to their public interest, their exploding album, ticket and merch sales, and their outstanding success on Spotify.

“We think it's a shit prejudice against rock music that there always have to be drugs involved. We fully threw ourselves into our participation with the utmost professionalism. We give everything for the music. So of course we don't want people to think that we can only do that because we take drugs.” – Victoria De Angelis

Prior to Eurovision, Måneskin was more of an insider's tip outside of Italy. Handmade rock music, not creating something entirely new but paying homage to the good old times with classic guitar riffs and cracking drum beats, being a lot of fun but also quite fragile and vulnerable at times and, first and foremost, conveying a captivating energy. Finally, on the stage of Rotterdam, live after so many months of isolation and renunciation, this wave of energy spilled straight over into European living rooms. It seemed easy to (mistakenly) interpret the winning song “Zitti e buoni” (Shut up and behave) as a declaration of frustration of our youth in times of a pandemic. In fact, singer Damiano David is singing about the favourite topic of the band: the unrelenting need to, against all odds, be yourself, despite or perhaps because you are different. The message fits their provocative sex appeal, which the band uses to demonstrate their independence of gender norms at any given time. But the core essence of rock music has always been the promise of unlimited freedom.

Thus at the first moment, the meeting with Måneskin is kind of startling. It's Wednesday, we are in the top floor of the new Sony head quarters in Berlin. The four Italians have just started their two-week long promotion tour through Europe. In the afternoon there will be a live concert in a queer club [the SchwuZ, but that's not mentioned here] in Neukölln, which will be streamed via TikTok. Around one million viewers will watch the show, some of them even from Brazil, so people at Sony are pretty excited [for Måneskin to come here]. But at first, these stunningly gorgeous creatures [yes, that's the exact wording :D] are standing surrounded by an entourage of people – their management, PR team, a stylist, a photographer, people who can hold a smartphone or a cigarette if needed [this paragraph is worded a little weirdly, especially taking into account that basically their whole team / 'entourage' is just friends of them, but it seems like the journalist didn't know that or maybe they just wanted to describe their first impression]. They seem like fictional / artificial characters out of a Hollywood movie. Transparent frill blouses with blazers and flared leather trousers, even the platform boots, everything brand-new, the makeup makes their faces look like a glossy magazine cover even in person. The smokey eyes of De Angelis and Raggi make them look smug and bored. Later, on the pictures it will probably look cool.

So of course your first impression might be: This band is under contract to industry giant Sony ever since their success on an Italian casting show [X Factor] in Winter 2017. The music industry must have its hand in the game when a band is photographed half-naked by Oliviero Toscani and styled by Etro. Also, one does not simply rent a villa with a pool in Rome to produce new music there, isolated from the rest of the world. And who else went to London for two whole months, shortly before the winter lockdown, just for inspiration? After the TikTok concert in Berlin – De Angelis and David are now wearing fishnet shirts that sparkle with every move, their bare nipples covered with an X of black tape – the band is posing with a few influencers. In the world of social media you would call that 'producing content'. But what does that mean for a band who are preaching their hosanna of authenticity? How authentic is Måneskin? And is their pointedly casual approach to sexuality and gender cliches in today's pop-cultural spirit more than a marketing strategy?

We're in the interview, the recording device is running for not even five minutes, when Victoria De Angelis says: “Actually, we just try to be ourselves and do what we really want to do.” And really: The more you listen to those four how they speak about the early days of the band in their slurred Roman dialect, about the shoe box and their own experiences with being different, but most importantly about their shared obsession [with music], the more you realise that [De Angelis] is very serious. Ethan Torchio, who got his first drum kit at the age of six or seven from his father because he was beating everything he could reach, says: “For me, music is like food. I cannot live without it.” The bassist next to him laughs at his pathos. Singer Damiano David applauds the otherwise more reserved friend for his truthfulness [it says 'klarer Punkt', meaning 'for the point he makes', but it makes it seem like Damiano is agreeing with Ethan here, although it doesn't indicate whether he agrees that yes, music is everything for Ethan or that he understands and feels the same].

De Angelis and guitarist Raggi already knew each other from middle school and they were the ones who tried to form a band at the age of only 13, a band that actually took music seriously.

De Angelis: “It's just difficult at that age to find other people who really put everything into music and who truly commit themselves and are willing to invest a lot of their time.”

Raggi: “We set strict rules and scheduled fixed times for the rehearsals, for every day.”

David: “Fever, stomach ache, there was no excuse. Even if you were feeling sick in the rehearsal room. At least you were in the rehearsal room.”

The way the four of them talk across each other, completing each other's sentences, taking turns in talking and sometimes joking about each other, seems intimate and playful. Singer David remembers how at first bassist [De Angelis] was merciless towards him when it came to her first metal band project, as she told him that he wasn't committed enough [to the music]: “Back then I was still playing Basketball. I was one of the people that Vic absolutely didn't want [in her band].” Drummer Torchio was later discovered through Facebook, even though there had already been a drummer, a close friend, but he was not good enough. It seems as if even back then music was everything for them. Even if it meant that only Raggi managed to graduate.

And why rock, why rock music of all things? Because it's great, the four of them say in unison. David adds: “Actually, it's a genre that allows you to do everything you want to do.”

When they played on the street, they were laughed at by their classmates. But not only there. De Angelis explains that she never wanted to be a typical girl: “I was always deterred by those stupid boxes that people put you in, and that are just restricting and constraining you, because something is only regarded as male or female. I always rejected that. Instead, I just wanted to do the things I enjoyed doing, I went skating and played football.” Torchio says: “Friends who are not friends anymore were already telling me at the age of ten that those“ – he grabs his long, silky black hair – “were wrong. Because I'm a boy and boys are meant to have short hair, long hair is only for girls. I was bullied a lot for that.”

“Compared to the past, people in our age became much more open-minded. It gets better.” – Thomas Raggi

Frontman David on the other hand, for whom eye shadow, jingling earrings and nail polish as well as his bare torso with the tattoos have become trademarks by now, says: “I was actually more of the average boy.” De Angelis convinced him to try out some eyeliner, which he describes as a spiritual awakening: “I liked myself much more [with makeup]. I saw myself more as myself. As if it had been a suppressed desire of mine.” On a trip to Copenhagen with the others, when he realised that it really didn't matter what people were thinking about him, he got his first fake fur [coat? the article doesn't specify that] in a second-hand shop and let his clothing style be guided by his own love to experiment: “I realised that my whole life I was just going at half speed.” When it comes to diversity all four of them are becoming almost missionary.

At the same time, their success is not only opening doors for them. Back home in Rome they are barely able to go out on the street due to all the paparazzi. “[You need a] hoodie and huge sunglasses”, David says, “the mask is quite helpful, too.” And still, none of them is complaining, and Torchio explains why: “Even if those experiences right now may have sides that are not so pleasant, we still know that for us a dream is coming true. We experience something that we always had in our minds, so we are willing to face every consequence that this entails.”

So is the band facing difficult times, is Måneskin going to change with all the success? Again, all of them answer at the same time.

David: “I'm not worried about that.”

Raggi: “No way!”

De Angelis: “On the contrary. Everything that happened to us happened because we are who we are, so we want to continue the exact same way and stay ourselves.”

Just a few hours later, they are at the stage in Neukölln, bouncing around like pinballs, hammering at their instruments, flirting with each other. “We are out of our minds, but different from the others”, David sings their winning hymn against conformism, and: “The people talk, unfortunately they talk.” Here on stage, the four paradise birds [a German word describing someone with a flamboyant personality] with their half-nude-glittering outfits are radiating an incredible energy with the utmost sincerity, and you begin to wish there was a live audience instead of the TikTok cameras, absorbing and spreading this energy. Måneskin. A cry for a life after the pandemic, a cry for freedom and a better world.

“We do what we wished for all our lives.” – Ethan Torchio

#måneskin #maneskin #måneskin interview #my stuff #i'm sorry if someone already translated it but i was working on this for the past 3 hours now so i'm still gonna share it #i know most of it is not very new but there were some quite interesting details in there #and it's just always great to read about those four dorks so i wanted to share it with all of you who wanted to read it but couldn't #enjoy and please ignore any possible mistakes i didn't have the time to proof-check everything

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say-narry · 3 years

Text

The Tonight Show

>> Versão em PT-BR

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Sorry, english isn't my first language! Hope you all like!

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"Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it for our friend and singer Harry Styles and his friend and new Marvel's actress, Y/N Y/LN!" Jimmy raised his arms pointing to the stage entrance and Harry and Y/N entered side by side.

They smiled and waved to the audience, who returned the whistling and clapping.

Harry greeted Jimmy with a brief hug and Y/N did the same, giving kisses.

Jimmy pointed to the two dark armchairs next to his table and Y/N sat down next to Jimmy and Harry next to him.

The whistling and clapping ceased. They were both smiling for the cameras and sure enough, The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon was scoring very high ratings.

"Great to have you here, everybody! " Jimmy started "We've been on this marathon interviewing friends in the business world and you're closing with a bang!" there was some applause "How long have you been friends?"

Y/N and Harry looked at each other and posed as if they were thinking.

"About three years, right?" Y/N looked at his friend, who agreed. "I wasn't so well known yet, I was participating as a co-star in This is Family, Harry was very nice to send invitations to everyone to his show. From that moment on, we started our partnership."

"Very nice that! And you must hear this question a lot..." a chill went through their stomachs, they knew what it was going to be "Nothing ever happened between you?" Jimmy let out a chuckle and their cheeks flushed.

It was more the discomfort of the question than the act that never happened. They were very close friends, nothing more than a tight hug and kisses on the cheek.

On social media, it was clear that Harry was the friend every woman would want to have, and to S/N fans, there was nothing going on between them since she had a few quick flings with Chris Evans, but only one person knew how much Harry was in love with his best friend, ever since he saw her in the sitcom she acted in, it motivated him to give input to the cast. He himself was that person. He wanted to see if the energy she conveyed on the small screen was the same, but it wasn't. It was simply much better. Y/N was Harry's fit, he had known that since they had spoken in person and Harry had already pulled strings to keep her around.

"No, we never had anything." Harry answered.

"Okay!" Jimmy joked making a funny face. "Kidding guys, it's uncomfortable this kind of question, but I think that just like me, your fans also think that you would make a cute couple."

"We see this a lot on twitter, I often take screenshots and send them to Harry, we laugh a lot, but we have a mutual respect. " Y/N tried to close the subject.

"And about your new song, Harry..."

"We are back with our guests, guys, and they agree to play our "hit the target" game!" Jimmy pointed to three dolls with the picture of himself, Y/N and Harry. There were scores written on part of each one's body.

"It's just a game, but we want to test your aim!" Jimmy continued "As you can see, there are points on every part of our body. Whoever manages to get the five arrows with the most points can choose a charity to donate 50 thousand dollars!" Harry and Y/N clapped side by side again "The loser will have to answer a question from our little box." Jimmy waved a dark red cube and his friends agreed.

The game began with Jimmy aiming at the head height of his paper doll. He fired all five plexiglas and accumulated 100 points.

The next player was Y/N, who ended up taking off her heels to make her move firmer, being assisted by Harry, who made the audience gasp for the act of affection when he held her to take off her shoes.

Y/N shot the first one, hitting the heart of her dummy, starting with 300 points. The next two missed, and the last one hit his dummy's forehead, adding another 100 points.

Harry just looked at her amused. She was good at this, sometimes you guys played this at his parties, it was a game that got on his nerves, because he wasn't good at it.

"Come on, Harry!" The host handed the little arrows to Harry and he positioned himself as Y/N did, maybe if he followed her way, he would be able to hit more points.

Big mistake.

The first arrow hit his wrist, starting with ten points. He made a snapping motion of his neck, drawing a few laughs from the audience. Harry shot two more arrows, one of which hit his arm, and the other fell before it hit the dummy.

"I think it's those rings." He complained loudly and took them off, giving them to Y/N who put them on, showing his fingers to the cameras, making a joke to the home audience.

Harry pointed to the heart of his dummy. If he got it right, he wouldn't have to answer the question.

And he shot. The arrow made a turn and unfortunately stopped in his arm, giving him another 50 points.

Harry would have to answer the damn question.

He groaned in despair as Jimmy and Y/N celebrated their victory.

The announcer walked away and picked up the red box and waved it at Harry. Who pouted in disappointment, sure all his fanclubs would be commenting on his cute expression.

"Take a little paper and read it to us, Harry." Jimmy held out the box and Harry put his hand inside, feeling some papers on his fingers.

He moved his hand a little and brushed at a piece of paper. He unfolded it and read.

His breathing had suddenly become heavier. It seemed as if he was out of breath, his fingers holding the small paper trembled.

"Er... Your challenge is: declare yourself to your crush!" The audience let out a few shouts and Y/N, always very expressive, opened her mouth and her eyes widened. Harry denied it with his head, laughing sideways, trying not to show his nervousness.

As close as they were, Harry didn't mention his girlfriends. She followed his fans that were also Harry's fans and sometimes she saw news about him dating some woman, but if he didn't say anything, it could be just his friends and if it was, she wouldn't invade his intimacy, she would wait for him to say something. Nothing had to be heavy in that friendship, she was aware of that, sometimes they would rather spend their time talking about random things like constellations and signs than their boyfriends and that was fine with her.

"Is this really necessary?" Harry asked in a playful tone.

Jimmy laughed and nodded positively.

They had formed a sort of open wheel on the stage.

"Come on, H! You can do it, because that's what I want to know too!" Y/N teased him.

He looked at her, closing his eyes as if she had failed in some secret plan of theirs.

"Okay... The person I like is very special..." He took a breath, playing with the paper in his hand "I won't say the name, but I will tell the situation we lived."

Y/N squatted down next to Jimmy, who hugged him in a friendly way while they listened to Harry.

"We were at a party among friends. We drank a lot, which we never did. It was on our friend's yacht, it was really an exciting day. I remember that we drank so much that this person... vomited a green liquid on my feet." Jimmy made a face of disgust and the audience murmured with disgust as well, Y/N remained static, because she knew this story. She had been there. She had vomited on him, which got a good laugh when she sobered up. "It's disgusting, I almost followed this person, but seeing this person so vulnerable, so sensitive in my arms... It made me see how much she was the perfect person for me, showed me how completely in love I was with her."

Y/N's heart soared, but as an actress who had conquered Hollywood, she made the best expression of curiosity, pretending not to know what it was all about.

"Do you have any idea who it is, Y/N?" Jimmy asked.

"I have no idea, I wish I could use my mind reading powers right now." She joked, referring to her character.

On the other side of the stage, there was an embarrassed Harry. His heart was tight, because he knew his best friend wasn't stupid and hadn't forgotten that day on the boat, when he took care of her, so much so that she slept on his lap and thanked him for it. He knew how spontaneous she was, he was dying for her to run out of Jimmy's side and jump on his lap and kiss him in front of everyone.

On the social networks, there was no other talk. Both of their names were at the top of the world trends topics, and in the news of the famous as well.

Y/N had donated the amount to the institution that cared for homeless people in New York. In a game of scenes, she returned the rings to Harry and didn't look at him, just went along with Jimmy's antics, leaving her friend completely out in the cold.

She didn't want to even think about it. Harry had never given the slightest sign of interest, he had gone out with a woman in the last few days... She was just another friend, no?

Jimmy thanked them both for their presence. They posed for some pictures with the host and the fans in the audience, both of them swallowing dryly and not looking at each other.

Soon the Y/N's accessory called her over and they left. She couldn't look at Harry, couldn't imagine that her favorite teenage singer, her current best friend, was in love with her, a foreigner new to show business.

It had been 15 days since the show had aired. There was still some murmuring on the social networks, Harry and Y/N had come in to check what they were talking about and most had picked up on Harry's words, they had even gotten pictures of them both from the day of the party on the yacht. It was clear from the whole thing.

But they hadn't exchanged a word, their friendship was shaken and Y/N couldn't stand it anymore.

On her day off in London, she took a coat since it was autumn and considerably cold in the late afternoon. She had always been a person who liked to dot the i's and cross the t's. Why was she running away this time? It was Harry there. It was Harry declaring that he was in love with her. What was the problem? She had been in love with him since she was a teenager, the Hollywood world was attractive and fantastic, but to whom could she be sincere, be herself, be the Y/N who left Brazil in search of opportunity and conquered the world? Except for her family, Harry was the only person fit for the job. Him. Only him.

Harry lived a few blocks away, she closed the apartment door and left the condo, there were no paparazzi, not that she had seen.

She pulled up her black hoodie and put her hair over her face, walking quickly through the cold streets of the chic neighborhood.

Braving some closed pedestrian signals, she arrived after a few minutes at the brown stone wall and black gate.

She had the key, they were so close at that point. They trusted each other.

Entering and closing it quickly, she saw some lights on. Y/N hadn't wondered if Harry was accompanied by someone else, his producers or his family.

Her finger slid between the detailed gold knob and opened the door, the wind and the smell of Harry's perfume went straight to her nostrils, filling her lungs.

She stepped inside and took a deep breath. Her heart seemed to throb close to her throat, and as cold as it was, she was sweating.

"Harry?" She called out. "H?"

No sound, no "I'm here!" The alarms hadn't gone off, he could be in the shower or in the studio composing something.

"Harry! It's Y/N, we need to talk!" She said a little louder "If you're with someone, I'm leaving..."

She walked to the center of the huge decorated room, there were some golden items, it was Harry's face. Y/N smiled as she touched a beautiful vase on the table. She couldn't lose him. She loved him, loved his way, his voice, his everything.

"Y/N." She heard Harry's husky voice, behind her between two sliding doors. It was his home office.

Harry was wearing a robe, his face had a sad, tired expression. His hair was not as she was used to seeing it. It was just the way it was. His nose was red, as if he had just cried.

That was it.

"Hazza!" Y/n murmured, walking slowly over to him, who bowed his head in shame.

"What was it?" Without denying his Aquarius side, Harry answered short.

The woman took a breath of air, until she walked more quickly in front of her best friend, stretching her hands until she held his face and joined their lips.

If you could see their stomachs, it would be something similar to fireworks in Copacabana on New Year's Eve.

Harry pushed the doors aside and took his best friend by the waist, pressing her against him.

How much he had dreamed of this. How much he wished it would happen. Their lips were warm, their tongues met, caressing each other, the sighs were audible, Harry couldn't help but smile at that.

"Forgive me." Y/N pulled away minimally whimpering, stroking between his best friend's jaw and neck. "I'm not afraid when I'm the superhero, but in real life... I'm a coward."

Harry shook his head negatively.

"I shouldn't have exposed us like that." Harry passed his hand over his girl's face "But I had to tell the truth."

Y/N agreed, putting her arms around her best friend's neck, hugging him tightly.

"I'm glad you came." Harry murmured. "I couldn't stand another day without talking to you."

"Not anymore, babe. I'm yours from now on."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Any suggestions?

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To @leeroysdancer ;)

#harry styles #imagine harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #fanfic #imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot

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katfett · 3 years

Photo

LITTLE VALKYRIE - PART FOUR

A/Ns: So um, here it is. I’m a little uncertain about this but I’m hoping it holds up to the previous three chapters as it is beginning to get into the trek to York, which I’m stretching out as land travel with a marching army, ain’t happening overnight so we got a nice trek across England coming :) I hope you enjoy!

All mistakes are my own! I’ve edited, but likely missed a lot as it is nearly 2am here and I have work in 4 hours but I refused to stop writing haha

TAGLIST: @peachyboneless @youbloodymadgenius @criminaly-supernatural @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @surewhyynot @revolution-starter @punkrocknpearls @oldglitterstory @bloooferladyy @naaladareia @ecarroll1978 @mrsalwayswrite @eveenstar

(If you wish to be added, removed - just lemme know)

SUMMARY: She wasn’t meant to be here, she was on holiday in England and the next thing she knew she was in the middle of a war. Nora needs to survive if she ever hopes of finding her way home, but she wasn’t prepared to run into the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok. She wasn’t prepared for the adventure and trials coming her way.

CHAPTER FOUR

The chariot ride was uncomfortable; it felt every little bump and dip. Her back ached something fierce. She was grateful to not have to walk, given her lack of food or water over the last few days, but it was hard to find a positive beyond that. Nora could feel the start of a dehydration headache creeping in, making the trek ten times worse as the sun hurt her eyes. She tried to sleep the ride out, a near impossible task she was beginning to think.

Leaning her head against the wall of the chariot, ignoring Ivar’s presence, Nora wondered where they were heading. She hadn’t been the best history student, she’d eagerly sit through any movie about it like 300 or Braveheart and so on, even though they weren’t accurate, it was awesome to watch.

Probably should’ve paid more attention she thought drolly to herself. Then she’d be able to work out who these Vikings were, the rough year, and where she might be. This wasn’t how her holiday to England was meant to have gone. It was going to be hard to find her way back to where she’d arrived. There wasn’t a possibility it’d even be her way back. There had to be a reason she came here, right?

Though, it was going to be difficult, her arrival spot wasn’t going to have a neon sign about it to help her out, maybe there would be something that came with her that the English had forgotten, or not found? How was she even supposed to get back?

Nora couldn’t imagine what was happening back home; had she completely disappeared? Had time stopped? Were there people out looking? Was Mike okay? How did someone even rationalize something like this? How did she even explain it to Vikings who believed in a rainbow bridge?

Her eyes flickered to where Ivar sat towering over her. He hadn’t acknowledged her since they’d set out, his attention fixed on wherever they were heading.

What did he even want? Why had he dragged her along?

Would he think her mad if she ever found the ability to communicate what and who she was?

He must’ve felt her staring because after a moment those blue eyes lowered to her, and Nora found herself unable to look away. It was hard to work out what he was thinking as he stared back at her, his head tilted a little.

Those eyes were paralyzing; she couldn’t move when they locked on her. It was haunting to see the lack of emotion in them as he stared at her.

A shout from just ahead and Ivar pulled the chariot to a halt. It rocked as the horse shifted at the sudden lack of free movement. It was the rocking of it that allowed her to look away as she swayed with the movement, bumping into his legs.

He stiffened, she saw it and her wide eyes darted back to his. She didn’t know why she did it, but she quickly mumbled out an apology. It was a useless gesture when he couldn’t fucking understand her. It had been an accident. His eyes weren’t narrowed, but he didn’t look happy.

She leaned further back into the wall of the chariot, holding her hands up in surrender, hoping he understood she didn’t do it intentionally.

She could feel the scratching of that headache permeate through the back of her neck and brow. This was going to be a long day. Reaching up, she massaged her brow with the palm of her hand. If only someone would give her a drink. She didn’t care if they didn’t feed her, but she was dying for a drink.

***

She’d been quiet most of the day. He was thankful she’d stopped struggling with them for the time being. While he’d admired her fight, it would be tiring to drag her behind the chariot the whole way to teach her to behave at the right times. Fighting Harald, he still found the sight of her knocking the man down hilarious. Of all the people, he’d expected Bjorn to do it, but then again, his older brother didn’t really see the threat Harald posed.

To have a woman have Harald’s size do the job, was glorious. Ivar preferred her sitting by his legs, so he knew where she was. Harald had decided to remain with them, he’d been planning to return to Kattegat but had opted not to. Ivar knew why, and he could feel her watching him.

Glancing down, Ivar caught her bright gaze with his. He was still trying to work out how to communicate with her. This wasn’t like when Ragnar found that damnable monk, Athelstan; who’d been able to speak their language and was able to teach him English.

They were making good time, but Ubbe’s call to stop made him pull Fenrir up. The chariot rolled back as Fenrir fought the halt a little, and Nora bumped into his leg.

He stiffened. Embarrassing rolled through him; that rare, but powerful sensation making him freeze. People didn’t touch his legs; his mother had, Harbard had when he’d been smaller, ridding him of a great deal of the pain that had made him scream for hours on end. The jostle didn’t pain him, just made him keenly aware of what his legs felt like, how they looked beneath his clothes. She would feel the lack of muscle there.

She mumbled something through her gag. He didn’t know what she’d said but when she held her hands up in a gesture of surrender, he assumed it wasn’t cruel. She looked worried; like he might hurt her. He didn’t feel that sense of pleasure he’d gotten when he threatened Margrethe. Ivar didn’t want this woman so terrified of him that she’d not interact with him.

He watched her brow furrow and then the way she massaged at her head. Was there something wrong with her? He’d had head pains before, was she suffering from one?

Hvitserk appeared along the rim of the chariot, leaning over to look down at Nora. “I’m surprised she didn’t jump from the chariot halfway out of Wessex.”

Ivar hadn’t been. She seemed intelligent enough to understand there was an army between her and escape. He watched her cringe as Hvitserk’s loud voice startled her. She looked worn out.

“When was the last time she ate? Or had a drink?” he asked, looking at his older brother over Nora’s head.

“Before we caught her?” Hvitserk said with a shrug.

Ivar nodded. She had to be near dead on her feet if she hadn’t eaten or drank in the last few days. It was quite the feat to still be conscious in his opinion. He’d seen prisoners lose their sanity after a day. She had to be feeling the effects of it.

“Can you get her into my tent? Get one of the thralls to bring food, and water as well.”

Hvitserk nodded. He stepped around to the back of the chariot and Ivar felt the way Nora leaned further back into the wall. He frowned. She looked up at him, unsure.

“I don’t think she likes you,” Ivar said, grinning at his older brother who glared back.

“What woman wouldn’t like me?” he replied. Ivar rolled his eyes. Most women did like Hvitserk, because he knew just what to say to them, because he was a son of Ragnar, a non crippled son of Ragnar. Nora refused to move towards Hvitserk, and it made Ivar smile at the stubbornness of her. Even when Hvitserk held his hand out, smiling at her, patient. Ivar watched them, watching one another. He shifted Fenrir’s reins into one hand and reached down, grabbing hold of her upper arm. She stood rigid as he let go of her arm after dragging her up the wall of the chariot.

“Go.”

He pushed her forward to Hvitserk who caught her by the arm. She didn’t struggle as Hvitserk helped her down from the chariot. Ivar glanced up in time to catch Harald nearby, watching. He then noticed most of the people near them were watching; frowning or speaking to one another as they gestured to Nora. He’d need a guard on her.

***

Hvitserk guided her to a tent nearby, his hand clutching her arm firmly. Nora was too exhausted to put up a fight right now. She didn’t want to fight him; he wasn’t hurting her. In fact, he kept her close, half shielding her, and she was a little grateful as she noticed people were staring and pointing at her. Nora knew she stood out; her clothes alone gave her away.

She was glad to be out of the light when Hvitserk pushed her through the tent flap. It was quiet, and uninhabited as Nora’s sore eyes adjusted to the low light of the tent. She took in the bed of furs, the posts holding the tent up, and the low table. This was Ivar’s tent. She turned to look at Hvitserk who was standing in the entryway, holding the flap open as he watched her.

She gestured to the gag and glowered when he grinned, shaking his head. He motioned for her to stay, like one might command a pet with their hands and it would’ve made her growl but in truth, the gestures were their only form of communication.

To show she understood, Nora stepped toward the low table and sat at it, crossing her legs under her, and leaning her still bound arms on the table so she could rest her aching head on them.

Hvitserk didn’t speak and she was a little grateful when he left her, dropping the tent flap back down. Darkness encased her and Nora rolled her shoulders, trying to find a comfortable position. She wasn’t going to consider looking for an escape, just yet. She was too tired. She needed her strength back. To get that, she needed food and water. On queue her stomach grumbled, and she frowned.

If their aim was death by starvation, they were doing a bang-up job of it. Nora stayed where she was and had nearly fallen asleep when the tent flap reopened, letting in the light from outside through.

She glanced up.

A tall man, with white hair, held the flap open as a young, dark-haired woman stepped in. A slave? She gave her the briefest of glances before she stepped to the side and Nora watched Ivar crawl through. It didn’t escape her notice the way the slave girl recoiled at his presence.

Were people that repulsed by him? Was he a monster of a warlord?

Nora didn’t bother with them; she went back to resting her head on her arms. The sound of a crackling fire soon filled the tent and she listened as they spoke quietly to one another. She heard the shuffling of feet and Nora shivered as she felt Ivar come up alongside her.

It was him; she could tell by the way he dragged himself along the ground. How had he survived all these years with his condition? This time didn’t have the science, or the medicine hers did. What was he suffering from?

Nora startled a little as a hand scooped her hair back from where it covered her face. She looked up at Ivar. Her eyes went wide as she saw the knife in his hand. The slave girl had disappeared, as had the white-haired man. The fire lit the space, bathing them in a warm glow.

In fright, she tried to recoil but his hand twisted in her hair by her scalp, holding her still and she flinched but stayed put. Ivar’s face was passive and unreadable as he held her. Time felt like it froze as he brought the dagger up and slipped the blade beneath the cloth of her gag on her cheek. She held her breath.

With one firm pull, the dagger cut through the cloth and tight pressure eased. Nora couldn’t move, surprised and a little uncertain. Ivar set the knife down on the table and then, as though dealing with a wounded animal before him, slowly reached up and pulled the gag from her mouth.

She licked her dry, cracked lips and winced as it stung. He watched her, those eyes intent on her every little move. Oh, this wasn’t good. The tent flap opened and broke whatever hold Ivar had on her.

The slave girl reappeared and stopped in the doorway as she took them in. Nora didn’t move, but her eyes left Ivar’s face to watch hers. His fingers tightened in her hand, reminding her she was still held firm in his grip.

He glanced over his shoulder, speaking to the girl who jostled herself back into action and quickly stepped forward, setting a tray down near Ivar on the table. She hesitated to let go and Ivar snapped at her. Nora felt bad for the girl, but she also wasn’t daring to utter a word while he held her hair in a vice like grip with a knife in reach.

Even though he’d tried to communicate with her, she still didn’t fully trust him. She couldn’t. The girl left, and then they were alone again. Ivar didn’t look back at her straight away and Nora wondered what was going on in his head.

She wished he would let her hair go, give her some space.

Tentatively, Nora reached up, taking hold of his wrist. His head came back to look at her and she slowly wrapped her fingers around his brace covered wrist. She felt his fingers release her hair and as his hand slid out of her hair, she let go of his wrist.

She didn’t move as he reached for the knife, and she didn’t flinch or recoil as he reached out cut the rope around her wrists.

Rubbing her wrists, she nodded her thanks and then turned to face the table. The smell of meat reached her nose, and the heavenly scent made her empty stomach grumble, loudly. She winced and blushed, unable to face Ivar.

She wanted to reach out and take something to eat but she wasn’t sure if she was allowed.

After a moment, Ivar pushed a cup in front of her. He hadn’t moved from where he was resting, though he had moved his legs, so he was more comfortable. Glancing at him, Nora found him leaning an elbow casually against the table, his gaze on the table before them as he twirled the dagger in his hand.

Her mouth was dry, her lips parched, and she wanted whatever was in the cup before her.

He could’ve poisoned it for all she knew, and yet, she would still drink it because after three days without anything, she would take whatever was on offer.

Reaching out with both hands, she grabbed the cup and lifted it to her lips. She skulled the liquid inside. She shouldn’t have but the water tasted sweet. Nora coughed as the liquid slid down her throat and she pulled the cup away to cough into her hand. It was so good to have a taste of water.

She sighed, setting the empty cup down and wishing she could have more, but she needed to remember it could make her sick if she overdid it.

***

Ivar scooped her hair from back from where it covered her face. He knew how to do this, he just needed to get her to trust him a little. The thrall was off getting food and drink, and White Hair was ensuring no one stopped her in her mission. The fire bathed the tent, warming them as the evening air had started to grow cold outside, and the last thing he needed was to get sick.

She startled, trying to recoil but he anticipated it and twisted his fingers into her hair, hard enough to hold her still, not enough to truly hurt her. Her eyes were wide, she was frightened. He palmed the dagger. He needed her mouth free if he was going to try this.

Ivar didn’t need her to fight him. He was careful, unhurried as he lifted the dagger to her cheek, slipping the blade under the cloth. She’d stopped breathing. Ivar, had it been another woman, would’ve chuckled darkly at the sheer terror in her eyes. She wasn’t Margrethe though, and she wasn’t a thrall. No, Nora was something else, something unexpected.

He gave the cloth a firm tug and it sliced through the cloth easily. Hvitserk had gagged her after Ubbe had shown them the deep gouges on his hand from her teeth yesterday but Ivar trusted she was smart enough to know not to dig those teeth into him.

He was quiet as he set the dagger down before reaching up to pull the torn cloth away. His eyes dropped to her lips when her tongue darted out to lick those dry, parched lips and he didn’t fail to see her wince. He’d felt a similar sting was time ago, when the English had ferried him back to Kattegat after Ragnar’s deal.

The tent flap opened. The thrall stopped in the entryway, annoyed that she couldn’t just hurry on and leave, Ivar tightened his fingers in her hand as he watched Nora’s eyes jump to the thrall.

He glanced over his shoulder as he spoke, “Set it down, and go, quickly.”

His tone left no room for tardiness, but he also disliked the girl’s presence. She recoiled at the mere sight of him, and if he could, he’d gouged her eyes out for the venom he saw lingering whenever she looked at him.

He watched her set the tray down, her eyes going to Nora and she hesitated. She was lucky she moved before he could bark at her again. The thrall retreated, leaving them alone again.

Fingers brushed against his wrist, and he looked back at her. Her bound hands were slowly wrapping around his wrist. She was quick to understand that communication was better with slow gestures that gave them time to work out what the other was saying. He would remedy that, sooner rather than later.

He eased his grip on her hair, letting his hand slide from it as she let go of his wrist. She surprised him, a little, by not moving away. He picked his knife back up and freed her hands.

Nora nodded her thanks and then faced away from him.

It was quiet for a moment, peaceful even, he thought and then her stomach grumbled. He saw the red flame her cheeks and smirked. She didn’t reach for the food and water though.

Ivar made himself more comfortable before he grabbed one of the cups and slid it across to her. It was just water. He didn’t want to ply her with mead. He needed her to be able to talk with him.

She scooped up the cup and down the water, quicker than he expected.

He was quiet as he watched her. The English wrote to communicate, he didn’t expect her to be able to read runes, and he wouldn’t be able to understand her writing.

He reached out and took the cup from in front of her.

Small he thought.

He nudged her arm with the empty cup, and grinned when she looked at him, confusion evident. He held the cup up, and like he was speaking to a small child, trying to teach them to speak, he spoke.

“Cup.”

He motioned to it with the knife in his hand. Quiet settled between them. He repeated the word. It must’ve dawned on her what he was doing as she twisted to face him, her legs curled under her as she leaned forward a little, her eyes eager. He shook the cup a little, and pointed the knife at her, waiting.

She gave him the most perplexed look but then she tried to repeat the word, in his language. It was rather rough, and it took every bit of him not to sigh at the way she butchered a simple word with that strange accent of hers.

Then, she surprised him. She reached out and plucked the empty cup from him. Holding it in the palm of her hand, she pointed at it and spoke.

The smug look on her face made the corner of his mouth curve up in a smirk. He fought the urge, just. Rolling his eyes, he nodded, gesturing with his knife to the cup again. She repeated the word in her language.

***

Ivar was intelligent, frighteningly so. When he’d reached out to take the cup, Nora had half hoped he would refill it. Instead, he nudged her with it, like a toddler trying to get her attention. She looked at him, brow furrowed, and tired. She really did want to sleep once she was hydrated and her belly reasonably full.

He held the cup up, gesturing to it as he spoke one word. What? She was so confused. He repeated the word, still gesturing to the cup.

Wait.

Was he – Was he trying to teach what word meant cup in his language? The idea of sleep suddenly vanished. If she learned how to speak basic words in his language, she could ask for things, she would be able to learn more about this place, where they were going.

Twisting to face him fully, Nora leaned forward, wanting to try. Hang Yoda’s suggestion that there was no try, the little green frog didn’t get transported back in time and taken prisoner by Vikings.

Ivar shook the cup a little and then pointed the knife at her. It was quiet, and for a moment she tried to remember how he had pronounced it. She tried to replicate it, though by the look on his face her accent was butchering the simple word.

Two can play this game.

She reached out and took the cup from him, setting it in the palm of her hand and holding it up, pointing to it.

“Cup.”

Let’s see you do it, Mr. Smug she thought, internally chuckling. She saw the corner of his mouth twitch and she felt her heartbeat quicken at the way he rolled his eyes at her, nodding. He gestured to the cup with his knife. Repeat.

She did as he hinted and said the word again. Just as her accent butchered cup in his language, his butchered hers. Nora giggled; she couldn’t help it. She watched him purse his lips and held a hand up as a means of apology. It wasn’t at him, just at how bad their respective accents made this.

He turned and made her flinch when he skewered a piece of meat with his knife. He turned back and held it up. Nora’s stomach growled. The smirk that came to his face made her audibly growl as he pulled it away when she went to reach for it.

Apparently, he could play this better than her.

Once she sat back, waiting, he held the meat back between them. He said a new word. Did this mean meat? He said it slowly the second time. Nora knew what he was doing. If she didn’t pronounce it right, he wasn’t going to give her the meat. Pursing her lips, Nora leaned her elbows on her knees and then her head in her hands as she ran through the word in her mind. She could do this; she would do this.

“Meat.” She said the word slowly, carefully. Hoping her damn accent didn’t lose her brownie points this time. He looked at her past the meat and she narrowed her eyes at him, holding her hand out and making a give it over gesture.

Nora felt her pulse quicken and her cheeks warm as Ivar smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Oh boy, he was handsome up close when he smiled like that. He tipped the point of the knife to her and let her take the meat off it.

Carefully, she chewed on it. It was pork, she gathered. It wasn’t chicken, that was for sure. It was good, whatever it was. She held her last bite up, rubbing her mouth on the back of her sleeve.

“Meat.”

This time she said it in his language, and then hers. He turned and grabbed another piece, holding it out to her. She didn’t even care that he’d grabbed it with his fingers, she devoured the last bit she held and then reached out to take the new piece.

As she took it, she repeated the word in her language. He was watching her, his eyes taking her in, and she was struggling to work out why he was staring at her like he was.

The tent flap opened.

Nora jerked out of her daze, and whatever was going on, to look at their visitor.

Hvitserk stepped in, his gaze searching the tent before landing on the two of them at the table. He grinned, and Nora didn’t miss the way Ivar rolled his eyes as he looked back at her. She covered her mouth with both hands to hide her smile at the lack of utter contempt Ivar seemed to have for their lesson, or whatever being interrupted.

***

“Enjoying yourself in here?” Hvitserk asked as he approached, not waiting for Ivar to offer for him to join them.

He plopped himself down on the opposite side of the table to them, grabbing the second cup and a piece of meat. Ivar slammed the knife he was holding down into the tabletop, stopping Hvitserk and making Nora jump.

“Who said you were invited in?” Ivar looked at Hvitserk, clearly not happy. Realizing that, Hvitserk smirked and ignored his little brother to look at the woman among them.

“You took off the gag,” he said, and his eyes fell to her wrists, “and her bindings. Was that wise?”

Ivar looked back to Nora who was watching them both, still sitting beside him. He jerked his head to Hvitserk. “Fool.”

Hvitserk glared at him.

Nora spoke, trying to repeat the word, she didn’t quite get it. Hvitserk glanced at her, eyes widening. She then held up the cup, and proudly butchered it again. Ivar rolled his eyes, though he was grinning at the absolute confusion on Hvitserk’s face. Nora surprised Ivar though as she moved, getting up onto her knees and leaning across the table alongside of him to reach for a piece of meat. He let her, his eyes following her intently as she came close to him.

Most people kept a healthy distance from him. Nora froze, seeming to realize what she had done. She blushed bright red, and as quickly as she’d moved, she sat back, a piece of meat in her hand. Ivar didn’t know how to respond as she held the meat up to Hvitserk.

“Meat.”

He had to grin. She got that one perfect. He looked at Hvitserk, and his grin faltered as he realized his older brother was watching Nora before his gaze moved to Ivar.

“Why are you teaching her our language?” he asked. Ivar rolled his eyes, and leaned forward, taking the cup from Nora’s hand. He held it up and said the word for it in Nora’s language. He smirked at the way Hvitserk’s eyes bulged. “Why?”

“Why not? We need to communicate with her,” Ivar said, with a shrug as he refilled the cup from the larger pitcher and slid it back towards Nora without glancing at her. He could see from the corner of his eye as she took it. “I want to know who she is, where she comes from, where she got those clothes.”

Hvitserk slowly nodded. “And you’re learning her language, why?”

Ivar grinned. “So, she won’t be able to plan anything behind our backs.”

***

Nora didn’t know what they were saying, but least it gave her a chance to watch how they interacted. She wondered if they were related to one another. They had similar features here, and there, and their smiles had that same upturn at the corner of their mouths.

Who was the older brother?

When Ivar took the cup off her, and refilled it, after shocking their newest addition by saying the word for it in her language, he surprised her by sliding it back to her. She was silently thankful for the kind gesture, though she was careful to sip this time.

After finishing off her food, and water, Nora struggled to fight the yawn that came on. She covered her mouth, looking sheepish. Both men looked at her. They spoke to one another before Hvitserk sighed, clearly not happy but he climbed to his feet and stepped around the table towards the furs. Wait, this was Ivar’s tent, wasn’t it?

She watched as Hvitserk picked up a few of the furs and dropped them unceremoniously near the fire. Nora glanced at Ivar when Hvitserk spoke to him. He looked at her and jerked his head in Hvitserk’s direction.

She climbed to her feet, a little stiffly and made her way towards Hvitserk. He didn’t move as she stepped around him to the furs. She glanced up at him. He was so tall. She smiled a little awkwardly and nodded her thanks. He nodded, and then moved away, back to the table.

Nora unzipped her jacket, shrugging out of it. Her vest followed, she collapsed down onto the furs and unlaced her boots, tugging them off, her socks following. She tucked them into her boots which set beside her jacket and vest. Grabbing one of the furs, she dragged it over legs and glanced across at Ivar and Hvitserk.

She paused.

They were staring at her.

Fisting handfuls of the fur, she waved a little awkwardly before shuffling to curl up on her side under the fur, facing the fire. She wasn’t going to wish them goodnight. It didn’t take long for Nora to fall asleep, exhausted, finally not so starving or thirsty.

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bigfootwrites · 3 years

Text

{escort fic}

This idea has been in my head for a while. People on the server seem to like it. I’ve gone back and forth on whether this is ooc or not but nobody has mentioned that it is so I’m gonna roll with it. It’s just a concept idea but if people are interested I’m happy to turn it into a full fic so please do let me know. Can also be read on ao3.

@today-in-fic @mypanicface @improlificinsarcasm @baronessblixen @foxscully @gillywitch @arboreta @agirlcallednarelle @starbuckthirteen @clarke-oswald

- - -

He should go out and meet somebody. Get to know them, fall in love with them, build a relationship with them. Yet, relationships took time, he had been down this road multiple times and each one had ended just as badly as badly as the other, this recent relationship taking it to the next level.

He was divorced from somebody he once worshipped and the custody of their child on the line.

He wasn’t going to make a habit out of this. His hand and porn usually did the job but it didn’t always fill the void, fill that sense of loneliness that has been there since he was twelve. Sometimes he just wanted physical human companionship, sometimes he just wanted that too much.

Yet still even after swiping a leaflet that fell out of a magazine at the Lone Gunmen’s for an escort agency it took him a week to build up the courage to call them.

He chooses something called “A Girlfriend Experience”, picks someone somewhere within his age-range and tries not to feel guilty about the whole thing.

.:.:.:.:.:.

She was running late.

Tardiness never felt like an option with her yet Emily had refused to go to bed even after Dana told her she had to go to work. It had ended with Dana a few minutes behind and Emily asleep in her bed.

But it was time to push that life aside for now, to enter this restaurant as Danielle and Danielle doesn’t have a child named Emily or a pile of textbooks to study through.

The restaurant her client had chosen was nice enough; one of those business-y type places that not many wealthy people touched but it was still classy enough to be considered decent to use.

It was rare that she would be fed- food wasn’t often part of the price, after all, it was an extra expense. Besides, most of the men she had encountered just wanted a suck and a fuck and maybe the odd therapy session. Maybe around three of her requests were for this Girlfriend Experience and it wasn’t like she was rolling in requests that much anyway.

Dana had realised quickly the types of women men went for: blonde, tall, boobs. Short redheads who just about fitted into a B-cup never made the cut that often.

Yet, for whatever reason, she had be chosen. From the emails sent this man seemed nice enough of course from the stories she would hear that wasn’t something concrete to go off. People could carefully choose the words they typed, could portray themselves in a certain way online. The same could be said for in person interactions too but people were more likely to slip up during those.

For now, Dana is tucked away, she dons Danielle and approaches able 25 where her companion for the night waits for her.

When she gets there, it’s a gentle tap on the arm, a smile, and a simple “Hi, Mulder.”

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Mulder’s heart stops in his chest as he stares at her, struck with the thought of how breath-taking she is.

He wouldn’t say little redheads was his ‘type’ but as he was going through the countless lists of girls he hadn’t wanted somebody his type, he wanted no reminder of Diana and so he had chosen her; Danielle, 5’3, 26 years old and the complete opposite to Diana.

He hadn’t seen her face before, for whatever reason she had kept it off the page, Mulder hadn’t been expecting much in terms of looks because of it yet he can’t keep his eyes off her.

He realises she’s said his name and almost comically stumbles his way to standing up, bashing a leg against the table making the cutlery jump and a brief amount of pain to ripple length ways across his right tigh.

“Danielle,” he says wincing through the pain. Her professional name knowing full well it wasn’t her real name. He might be new to this escort world but 1-800 numbers and taught him enough about fake names, maybe he should have considered using one.

She looks to be smiling at his clumsiness, fighting it back, trying to hide it.

A shaky start Mulder thinks, as he pulls out her chair yet she’s sitting down before he gets a chance to show how much of a gentleman he is.

He’s looking through the drinks menu when he realises she’s staring at him, drinking him in. It makes him feel self-conscious.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Danielle seems to have realised what she was doing, she quickly looks away from him.

“You’re just…different to who I usually meet with,” she says.

Mulder smiles wryly and cocks his head.

“Is that good or bad?” he asks unsure himself.

“That’s good,” she tells him. “Usually I get the…older men and they definitely don’t go out of their way to buy me food.” She lifts her head up and smiles waiting for his reply.

He has none other than how strange he must seem to her right now, how sad. He also tries not to feel jealous at the thought of her with other men. It’s a thought that comes out of nowhere, a thought he has no right in occupying.

“So do you come here often?” she’s asking.

The answer to was that no. It was a drive away from his apartment, away from any potential sightings of colleagues or people he sees on a daily basis.

“Never,” he says realising this could be chaotic.

But she’s laughing and it’s one of the nicest sounds his eyes have ever heard.

“I hope you didn’t come here just to try and impress me.”

“Try?” he counters. “So I take it you’re not so easily impressed?”

She shrugs. “I’ve been told as much.”

Mulder leans in, surprised at how comfortable he feels around her, how at ease he is.

“Well tell me,” he says. “Are you impressed?”

She looks around the establishment, pretending to think.

“Hmm…I think you could have done better.”

“Okay,” Mulder says leaning back and giving the room a once around himself. He would say he’s done pretty well but she’s laughing again, giggling actually, and the restaurant doesn’t matter.

They order food, not that he’s particularly hungry anymore, but for some reason he doesn’t want this to end. Spending $300 a night to talk seems better than spending $300 on an apology.

“So,” Mulder begins. “What do you do aside from…this.”

He wonders about the answer he will receive. She’s lied about her name, will she lie about this or will to follow the truth as much as she can, altering things here and there. He wonders how much of her true name is in her fake name.

“Well…through the day I study mostly,” she says and this perks his interest.

“What do you study?”

“Uh…” He sees she’s searching for an answer and it breaks his heart to know that he isn’t getting the truth though he had expected her to be a bit more prepared for these questions.

“Chemistry,” she finally says. “I wanted to be a scientist.” She says it almost shyly, tucking her head in and refusing to look at him. He amends his previous thought, perhaps there is a truth after all.

“Wanted?” Mulder asks. “Is that still not possible?”

“Well…I guess so. I’m just worried about somebody hiding out about…this.” She purses her lips and shrugs.

Mulder wonder if he’ll get to ask why she does this but then wonders if that’ll be rude to ask anyway even if did get the chance.

“Well, let me pose you a question,” he says just as their food arrives. “Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?”

He watches as she processes his question, her eyebrows knitting together as she attempts to formulate an answer and Mulder is curious as to what that answer is.

“Logically, I would have to say no,” she says slowly. “Given the distances needed to travel from the far reaches of space, the energy requirements would exceed the spacecraft’s capabilities.”

Mulder finds himself impressed with her, the certainty in her answer, he wonders if he’s getting a glimpse of a real person beneath the professionalism, other character.

“Okay, conventional wisdom,” he says, he expected it. “But when convention and science fail us, should we not start looking to the fantastic as answers?”

He thinks he’s caught her, she takes a while to answer, thinking it over through mouthfuls of salads. Mulder is too preoccupied with her mind to worry about the food that goes cold beneath him.

She swallows her food, sitting back in her seat and Mulder waits for the mental foreplay.

“That’s only if convention and science actually fail us.”

He thinks he’s in love.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

There’s an easiness Dana feels around Mulder. He’s nothing like her previous clients who see nothing beyond her sexual capabilities. Mulder seems to be interested in her mind, in her and she worries she might have revealed too much of herself to him but it’s rare she finds somebody to match her intellect, her classmates can’t keep up with her, her professors shut her down in order to give other members of the class a chance. She feels intellectually frustrated at times.

“Why do you ask all this?” she inquires.

Mulder shrugs. “Oh, it’s just a hobby.”

“Talking about extraterrestrials is a hobby?”

He looks away and mumbles something she doesn’t quite catch.

“What was what?” she asks.

“I look for them.”

It’s endearing, how different he is from anyone else she’s ever met.

“Do you think you’ll ever find them?” It’s not to jest or to make fun of him.

“I’d like to,” Mulder says with an essence of hopefulness in his voice.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

He makes the decision that he won’t fuck her.

He’ll pay $300 as a fee to access her amazing mind if he must.

They go away from the talk of aliens, something for which Mulder was glad. He has his own secrets locked away and if they continued on the subject anymore, he was worried they would tumble out of his mouth and he’d reveal how spooky he really was. They talk of other stuff, he throws conspiracy theories at her that he barely believes in himself just to hear her debunk them with finesse. She was the one who was right and he was wrong and Mulder is completely okay with that.

He stops when he reaches her hotel, this is the end of one of the best nights of his life. He’ll go home, think of her, perhaps rub one off to the thought of her, and that will be that. He’ll bin that leaflet and they’ll never talk again.

But she’s stopping when she realises he isn’t beside her anymore and turns with a puzzled look on her face.

“Tonight was great, Danielle,” he tells her. “I really enjoyed it.”

Her face almost seems to fall when she realises what he’s doing but she picks herself back up again, nodding.

“Well,” she says walking back towards him. “If we’re not doing that anymore at least let me give you this.”

Her lips touch his and fireworks go off behind him. Mulder feels as though he’s experiencing his first kiss all over again, new and exciting, and a fear that he’s doing something he’s not meant to do.

It doesn’t take long before he’s kissing her back, his tongue trying to gain access to her mouth and to her own tongue. She grants him permission, thank god, and he almost melts inside her mouth.

They fall against a wall, his head collides with the brick but he doesn’t care, there is nothing else on his mind other than the want to pick her up. He’s bent at an awkward angle because even in heels her forehead just about reaches his chin. He’s unsure what to do with his hands, on her hips, on her waist. She seems to become annoyed at his indecisiveness and takes his hands in her own, placing them against her ass all the while not breaking the kiss.

He grows impossibly hard as his senses go into overdrive. He wants her so bad when he said he wouldn’t.

“Danielle…” he moans coming up for air.

“Dana,” he hears her say and at first he’s confused wondering what she’s talking about. “Call me Dana.”

The penny drops. Her name!

“Dana.”

She’s back on him, kissing him harder this time and Mulder was kidding himself before; he’s going to make love to her.

#concept idea #potential fics #au #just another of my out there ideas #for reasons im not going to state #im incredibly worried to post this

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dreaminae · 3 years

Text

We All Need The One Friend

Chapter 8

Hours rolled by as sunlight shifted to moonlight. Friendly competition soon became dangerous as personal tensions rose within the group.

"Rise of Batman!" One person guessed of Jordan's pose.

"Transformers!" A friend playfully argued.

Jordan changes poses in hopes that it might be easier to guess.

With time up, Jordan cracked up as everyone failed to guess his term.

"Okay, what even was that?" Simone giggled.

"Back to the future." Jordan responded in a 'duh' tone as if everyone should've known. "Greatest movie of all time!"

"I've never watched that movie in my life." Simone chuckled, "Plus, the greatest movie of all time is Parasite. Hello!"

"Jordan doesn't do subtitles." J.J laughed. "Like have you met my man?"

Everyone joined in the laughter, but Simone couldn't help but feel like it was strange that she hasn't known a small detail like that.

The game went on as Vanessa took the reigns.

"One word." One person shouted.

"A place. No no, a person." Another one added to list of clues.

"Uh, a painting.... a movie." Layla interjected.

"No, a plane. Wait, what?" One of them fumbled over when Vanessa switched stances.

"You're on a plane."

Giggling, Vanessa changed gestures again.

"Bald. You're bald. A bald eagle." J.J guessed.

"No, not an animal." Vanessa choked up.

"Aye, no cheating." Jordan chuckled as Vanessa spoke.

"C'mon guys." Vanessa encouraged, ignoring Jordan's rules. "You had a poster of him in your room when your ten." She spat out in Asher's direction.

"Samuel L. Jackson!" Asher shouted, jumping up as if he won the lottery.

Liv glanced between the two of them as if they grew two heads. It was stupid how one small detail held a bigger picture.

"Well, you don't get a point for that one." Simone scrutinized, gaining a careless shrug from Vanessa.

The game rolled on, leading to Spencer's turn.

Galloping his feet and twirling his arm, Spencer caused everyone to gather into fits of laughter.

"A cowboy," Jordan shouted first.

"The rodeo." Asher chuckled.

"Wild, wild west." Layla joined in, holding back her laughs.

Adding to his performance, Spencer shook his foot hysterically, while twirling his arm like a madman.

Finally catching on to his charade, Olivia thought back to the night she made Spencer rewatch all her favorite childhood movies. Quoting one of her favorite lines, Spencer had her in hysterics for half an hour. She could still remember him using her belt as a rope, shouting 'There's a snake in my boot'.

"Woody," Olivia muttered with a small smile.

"What?" Her brother asked curiously, not completely hearing her response.

"It's woody!" Olivia laughed, which Spencer replied to with a smirk.

They met each other eyes, before bursting out, "There's a snake in my boot!"

The entire group fell out laughing, excluding Layla.

Spencer returned to his seat grinning like an idiot, but couldn't help but to notice his girlfriend's harsh mood.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Layla nodded lightly. "Guess I am just tired." She muttered, not bothering to look in his direction.

Sensing there was more to it, Spencer left it alone, not wanting to cause a scene in front of his friends.

"Alright, I have the perfect game to play next," Vanessa announced, as she returned from the house with her bottle of booze. "Anyone up for a game of Never Have I Ever. The more you've done the more you drink."

Her announcement soured the mood as Spencer immediately shut down her idea. "Sorry, Ma." Spencer asserted firmly. "Ain't bo drinking happening this weekend."

His eyes flew to Olivia, followed by everyone else's. She rolled her eyes at their dramatics.

"Oh, please. Don't stay sober on my account." Olivia dryly encouraged. After all, this was the first time in weeks she'd been completely sober. With all of her friends within proximity this weekend, drinking wasn't an option for her.

Noting Liv's bitter tone towards her, Vanessa tried to ease the tension. "Sorry, Liv. I forget that you don't drink. That was so insensitive of me." She apologized, placing the booze on the ground.

"It's okay. It's not something I'd expected you to know, so.." Liv shrugged it off, dismissing the subject all together.

"No, liquor. Got it." Vanessa summed up, ignoring Liv's clear implied diss of Vanessa's newness to their group.

Asher rubbed Olivia's thigh, silently asking her to lighten up. Cocking up a brow, she gave him her iconic 'I could careless' glare.

"No drinks doesn't mean no turn-up." J.J cheered. "Introducing the burns of all burns -- jalapeno-infused pickle juice."

"What don't you have in that box man?" Spencer questioned, seriously wondering where J.J randoms items came from.

"Let the burns begin."

---------------------------

"Alright, never have I ever walked in on my parents doing it." Simone started the game off.

First victim up, Asher gulped down his first dose of the throat burning juice.

"Oh, God. Asher. No!" Olivia cringed.

"I don't wanna talk it." Asher chuckled at the memory. "RV trip...'08....super weird."

"Oh, you're gonna talk about it." Spencer and Jordan laughed together.

"Not the one to up to Sanoma. How could you not to me?" Vanessa asked playfully, catching Olivia's attention yet again.

Liv couldn't help but wonder just how much did Vanessa know about Asher, that she didn't.

"Cause I was scarred for life," Asher replied, oblivious to the questionable expression of Liv's face.

"Alright, my turn. Never have I ever bought 300 dollars shoes for my one night in Vegas." Simone teased Olivia's bad spending habits.

Tensing up, Liv looked everywhere besides at Layla.

"No cheating. Drink up, Liv." Simone laugh, unaware of the big secret she just revealed.

Layla's eyes narrowed in Liv's direction, fed up with the secrets.

Spencer gawked at his girlffriend, realizing that he and Liv might have to come clean sooner than expected.

"Alright, never have I ever said I love you just to get someone to hook up with me." Vanessa added to game.

All the boys drank besides Spencer.

"Yikes, that was a test that you all failed." Vanessa taunted, "Besides Spencer."

"My bro is a real one. When he says it, he means it." J.J admired, increasing the growing tension between Spencer and his love interest.

In Liv's case, her heart clenched at the mentally, replayed memory of Spencer professing his love for her. She yearned to have a chance just to tell him how she felt, despite the chance he no longer felt the same.

However, in Layla's case, all the times that Spencer claimed to love her we're burning in a flame of betrayal. Because despite that fact she had no solid evidence, that conveyed her worse thought she knew Spencer wasn't being truthful with her.

"You're a lucky one, Layla."

Layla's sneer went unheard by the majority of the group besides the two people who knew the jig was up.

Unaware of the conflicts brewing, J.J continued the game. His hand already pointing at his aimed victim.

"Never have I ever ran naked through a football field."

Admitting the embarrassing memory, Jordan gulped back his shot of pickle juice.

"Jordan! Tell me you didn't!" Simone teased.

"Okay. Okay. I did it. I run through the field, butt naked." Jordan chuckled. "What was it? Freshmen year?"

He and J.J chuckled laughed over the recollection.

"Varsity team stole all of our clothes, thanks to Ash -- over here --- acting like he owned the place during tryouts" Jordan recalled funnily.

"Cause I did." Asher cockily popped his collar. "It's called confidence."

"Confidence. Okay." Jordan playfully mocked. "Whatever you want to call it. Your dumbass stays getting us in trouble."

Asher nodded with a knowing smile. But Vanessa saw nothing funny about it.

"Wow." She gasped seriously. "Okay. Never have I ever crapped all over folks that we're supposed to be my friends."

The laughter stopped, and the smiles dropped in reaction to Vanessa switch up.

"Uh, Vanessa it's alright." Asher tried to jump in before she took things too far.

"It's just jokes." Jordan defended himself, not seeing the harm in messing around.

Vanessa's scornful expression was enough for Jordan to see that she couldn't disagree more.

Maybe it was her role as a protective sister that came into play. Perhaps, it was the jealously towards Vanessa knowing things about Asher that Liv didn't. Or maybe it was simply that Liv didn't feel Vanessa had any right to make presumed assumptions on any of the dynamics within their group when Vanessa barely knew any of them beyond a first-name basis.

Whatever it was, Vanessa's attempt to trash talk her twin was Olivia's last straw. And with that, she felt it was only right to return the favor.

"Hmm, well, Never have I ever spent the summer getting to somebody else's boyfriend a little too much." Liv snapped at Vanessa.

"Liv! What the hell!" Asher choked up, unable to believe that she publically humiliated Vanessa in that manner.

"Yo, Ash. Relax. Let's just play the game." Jordan instructed, trying to ease the tension he caused.

"You wanna play? Fine." Asher groaned. "Never have I ever cheated a concussion protocol to play in a game." He added spitefully.

"What is he talking about?" Simone inquired seriously, over the entire game. "You cheated your concussion protocol? How could you not tell me something like that?"

"You mean like you told me about Princeton?" Jordan asked, trying to guilt trip her right back.

"Wow!" Simone gasped in awe, tossing her blanket aside before storming off.

"Ah, babe, wait! I didn't mean it like that!" Jordan quibbled, following behind Simone. "Baby, wait. Sweetie!"

With the fun atmosphere ruined, the remainder of the group broke off to deal with their own problems.

-----------------------------

"Can you believe Liv?" Asher groaned, as he and Layla entered the kitchen.

"Not really. Find it hard to believe anyone with all the secrets that's been hidden." Layla replied harshly.

"What do you mean?" Asher asked, clueless.

"Simone's Never Have I Ever!" Layla responded in a duh tone. "When has Olivia ever gone to Vegas."

"Olivia wouldn't lie about going to Vegas. She has no reason to." Asher scoffed.

"You mean like she had no reason to lie about being in Mexico." Layla revealed.

"Liv came to Mexico? When?" Asher asked desperately. "She never told me."

"She went to Mexico to surprise her boyfriend." Layla groaned, annoyed that she had to be the one to tell him. "Only when she got there she saw you and random girl boo'd up." She gestured towards Vanessa as the brunette and J.J entered the room.

"Wait, you and Asher?" J.J asked heartbroken, catching the last part of Layla's statement. "Since when?"

"Where's Olivia now?" Asher requested to know, needing to hear all of this from her.

"I don't think that" Spencer began to suggest against going after Liv, but was interrupted by his girlfriend.

"She's down by bonfire," Layla interjected before her boyfriend could continue to shield his side piece from the mess they made.

Bypassing the other three teens, Asher went to find his girlfriend and demand some answers. Meanwhile, Vanessa and J.J left Spencer and Layla to handle their business in private.

------------------------------

#3x07 #all american #olivia and spencer #spelivia #olivia baker #spencer and olivia #spencer james #3x06

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queenofnohr · 4 years

Text

Twisted Wonderland Event: Scary Monsters - Episode 4-15

Dreamwidth link here.

Episode 4-15: So Beautiful He Must Be A Vampire

-Mirror Chamber-

Man A: A- AHHHHHH———! I don’t wanna be drained dry~~~！ Woman B: Vil is a real vampire! I’ll delete my entire camera roll! I’ll never take stealth pics ever again so forgive meeeeeeee!

Run, run, run……BANG!

Epel: The MagiCam Monsters sure ran away fast. Vil: ......Alright. Everyone, you can get up now. Pomefiore Student A: Dorm Leader, how was our acting? Pomefiore Student B: To give it a sense of realism, I actually held my breath during the scene where I was making a pained face. Rook: Très bien! It was a realistic performance that had me on the edge of my seat. I truly regret that I was only able to be a spectator. Were this a performance at a grand theater, the applause would be likened to thunder! Pomefiore Students A & B: Vice-Dorm Leader......! Vil: Rook, don't speak carelessly. You both were playing the parts of pitiful victims, but each of your lines and actions was delivered too deliberately. This isn’t a stage-play, so you should’ve planned to act more naturally. Pomefiore Student A: M- My apologies…… Dorm Leader. Pomefiore Student B: The honor of co-starring with the Dorm Leader is too much pressure. Epel: We succeeded in driving off the MagiCam Monsters, so I don’t think you need to criticize them too harshly…... Vil: Well, that is true. For an improvised play that was more-or-less completely off the cuff, you all performed well.

Epel: But……Was this really okay to do? You played the lead role in kicking them out. Vil: Of course it was. In fact, it was refreshing. Those guys have been a thorn in my side for a while now. Thinking they can just take pictures of me without permission...... Epel: Um……That’s not what I meant. If rumors spread that you’re a vampire…… Rook: Fufufu. Monsieur Cherry Apple! How kind you are. Are you perhaps worried on how this will impact Vil’s work? But worry not! We have already taken matters into our own hands! Behold. This is what happens when you search for the tag #SoBeautifulHeMustBeAVampire on MagiCam. Epel: Uwah, there’s so many posts……! This tag is all photos of Vil! All of them have him looking at the camera with fixed poses…… They’re photos that absolutely couldn’t have been taken in secret. But what did you mean by “into our own hands”......? Pomefiore Student B: We Pomefiore students took lots of pictures of the Dorm Leader and posted them to MagiCam with that tag. Pomefiore Student A: I think there were about 300 in total? And each photo has a huge amount of likes! Rook: Thanks to their enthusiasm, pictures of Vil in his vampire costume are extraordinarily popular on MagiCam. Even if someone were to spread the rumor that, “Vil Schoenheit is a real vampire!”…… The only reply will be, “I know, right!” Vil: Thanks to the popularity of the #SoBeautifulHeMustBeAVampire tag, I’ve already received a number of requests to make appearances at next year’s Halloween event. This year is a given, but next year’s Halloween will also be mine for the taking. Epel: Th- That’s good……I think? Vil: Hmph. I suppose those MagiCam Monsters were good for something after all. Everyone, thank you for your hard work today. These are the hours real vampires are on the prowl, however…… Don’t stay up too late, my little Pomefiore vampires. Let’s get our beauty sleep. Now then, let’s have a fantastic party tomorrow. Happy Halloween! Epel, Rook, Pomefiore Students: Happy Halloween!

Episode 4-14 ← → Episode 4-16

#twisted wonderland #scary monsters event #disney twst #rook hunt #epel felmier #vil schoenheit #pomefiore #my translations #long post

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the-colony-roleplay · 3 years

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Annie Perrault | Twenty Three; Survivor

House: Delma Security Class: 2 Status: Deluded

History

Anxiety has always been an issue for Annie Perrault, so you can imagine that in the wake of the ‘end of the world’ she’s not exactly sure-footed.

As a child, Annie was nothing out of the ordinary. She was well-behaved and excitable, close with her older sister, sweet with her parents, and confident in her gender identity from a young age. But she’d always been a shadow of the personality her sister boasted and though this had never posed an issue in her younger years, everything changed when she entered middle school.

Not only were kids more competitive and more judgmental, but her parents had also removed her from the private school environment, enrolling her into public instead, which was really a whole other ball game. Annie had been looking forward to it, as the idea of meeting new people that had only ever known her as female presenting seemed thrilling, but as it would turn out, if students weren’t teasing her for her shy and quiet behaviour, it was her gangly height that made her a target, or how often she put up her hand in class. They goaded Annie to the point of tears, insecurity, and a sudden unwillingness to participate in school. She didn’t dare raise her hand anymore, because she couldn’t stand the looks her bullies would shoot her, the things they’d whisper behind binders when the teachers weren’t listening.

The bullying escalated over the years to constant emotional torture and even violence, and eventually Annie became scared to leave the house or encounter people at all. When her family moved to a new city a couple years later, she hoped to get a fresh start. And though the move allowed her to escape the worst of her bullying, years of anxiety and fear of social situations, couldn’t simply be erased overnight.

Annie became determined to be a stronger person, but her desperation for it had her throwing herself somewhat blindly into her responsibilities and school work. It made it challenging to handle her stress levels because she wouldn’t give herself a moment to relax, a moment to unclench, because everything was a fight and she was constantly on the edge of panic. This was not helped when she was finally old enough to start HRT—the early stages of hormone therapy increasing her anxiety at times and making her moods unpredictable.

Graduating year was an especially hard one, with preparation for college now a factor. She developed a rather severe addiction to caffeine, one that had been ebbing its way into problematic over the past year or so, but flared dangerously in her 12th year. She began avoiding sleep—first it was an inability to turn off her brain—the constant worrying and anxiety making it almost impossible, not to mention the caffeine—but over the months, her decreased mental health twisted it into a confused fear of sleep. Like if she slept, she would be wasting time, or if she slept, she might not wake up.

A wrought mess of anxiety and stress, Annie began having serious panic attacks at school. Even just having her shoulder inadvertently knocked in the hall would make her flinch, her throat tighten. Presentations and anticipation for tests could cause her to hyperventilate, and it got to the point that simply the fear of having another attack could bring one on—a cruel irony.

Eventually, Annie’s parents withdrew her from school to complete the rest of her final year from home. When she graduated, her mother took her to London as a reward, thinking that the holiday would be good for her, and that they might get some quality time together.

That was when the world ended, and Annie was left alone.

Annie Today

Infections of the apocalypse touched Annie and her fear of sleep with cruel, ironic fingers. After the End of the world, Annie woke believing that she’d simply fallen asleep again—but for the last time. She was convinced she was living in a nightmare, stuck here as punishment, for not being strong enough, good enough, smart enough.

Six years have passed, and though she still believes herself to be a permanent resident of a dream world, she is much the same person she used to be. The loss of her family and her classified delusion has put her on a very slow track of recovery, and she spends several hours a week in therapy—partially because it’s where she goes when she doesn’t know where else to. Though this nightmare has been hellish, she’s found that there are some kind people here, and the therapist’s chair has become a sort of comfort for her. Something that feels a little more connected with the real world she’d left behind, perhaps because it’s familiar—not unlike the therapists chairs she’d sat in week after week while she was in school and suffering debilitating anxiety.

She has fewer panic attacks than she used to, and having gotten accustomed to her surroundings, her generalized anxiety is a little less prominent. Finally being able to get an implant that keeps her hormone levels consistent has done wonders for her happiness as she feels more secure in her body than ever. But there are times that she will still stay awake for days, sometimes weeks, because going to sleep in her nightmare has done nothing in the past 300 some-odd weeks to get her back to the real world—so maybe by some backwards logic, the trick is to stay awake. To not be rested in this universe, because as long as she’s sustaining life here, here is where she’ll stay.

Unfortunately, neither of these theories have paid off, and at the tail end of these insomniac phases, which are fuelled on fear and as much caffeine as she can get off the black market, she’ll reliably crash hard, find some kind of normalcy for a week or two, and then cycle back.

Obviously her mental condition and lack of sleep don’t make her the best candidate for training and the games. But she finds, despite her obvious disadvantages, she wants to do well. These people of her living nightmare have grown to mean something to her, especially those in her dorm, and she doesn’t like the idea of disappointing them, real or not. Some days she’ll make it all the way through training without too much incident, others the pressure will be too much, and she’ll crack under it.

She excels most in the area of archery, however, because it is a sport that requires silence, patience, and even breathing. In fact, it works a bit like meditation for her, and though she isn’t known for her performances in endurance or direct competition scenarios, she will actually spend some of her free time doing target practice. It helps to clear her head, and give her some sense of peace of mind.

TAKEN

#literate rp #original rp #bio rp #mature rp #para rp #annie perrault #hunter schafer #taken #female #infected #survivor #taken female #taken surviror #taken deluded #calyset #sc2

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gayregis · 4 years

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vampire headcanons 2020, pt. 1

part one: (non)physical form

the purpose of and reasoning behind writing all of this out: mainly to ward off against human-centric ideas of biology, and the preoccupation with gore that i have seen floating around when it comes to the vampires of the witcher

the nature of this: structured around the descriptions of vampires in the books. of course a lot of this is conjecture but it is intended to be based upon what is canon.

references: i am using the UK translations (2nd edition). (usually i think citing which translation you are using is a little unnecessary, but these headcanons are based upon the most minute details of how the vampires are described, where a change in the translation of words can make all the difference, in addition i have influced page numbers for ease of reference). i have transcribed these quotes from the paperback editions by typing, so hopefully there are no spelling errors.

disclaimer: i understand that there are meta reasons for certain parts of the lore (such as in the tower of the swallow, vampires not being able to be detected by long-distance magic was likely only written into canon because it was a necessity for there to be an error in the report of information for geralt to accuse cahir of betrayal). in addition, topics like magic in the witcher are not defined by extremely specific lore, the amount of specificity varies according to the necessity of it in relation to the narrative. this post is for fun and i only write things in a serious tone because i like treating things i care about with formality.

the theory as it stands:

> vampires do not have a physical form

technically, vampires do not physically exist. their physical forms are variations on something similar to illusion magic.

within their range of powers alloted to vampired in canon are a large amount of mastery relating to controlling others’ minds, influencing their thoughts. they can put others to sleep, send them nightmares, and control their movements.

instead of having a physical form born of biological means of development, my theory is that their physical forms literally exist only as something similar to illusion magic, a trick on the minds of those around them to percieve someone as being there. of course, it is much stronger than an illusion, as they can physically interact with the rest of the world in their physical forms.

this would explain much, including how they do not have reflections or shadows because they do not technically exist within this dimension of existence. in addition, this would explain how they are not able to be detected using long-distance magic:

“Geralt may be right,” Regis said slowly. “Like every vampire, I’m invisible to magical visual probing and scanning; that is, to a detecting spell. A vampire may be tracked using an analytical spell, from close up, but it is not possible to detect a vampire with a remote, scanning spell. The detection will report that there’s no one there.”

The Tower of the Swallow, pg. 190.

from close up, they are able to identify that someone is there, because that is the extent of the vampire’s power to maintain their physical form. but their physical form is not able to be detected from far away, because they are not projecting their form into the minds of everyone on the continent - that would take an incredible amount of power. instead, they create this physical form only so that they can interact with their immediate surroundings and be visible to everyone who can see them physically. for all intents and purposes, their forms exist physically, as in one can interact with them: see them, hear them, touch them, but they can activate and deactivate this form at will when they have enough power to do so.

why do i think they exist metaphysically and not physically?

vampires demonstrate a number of abilities which would be difficult to explain if they existed with the type of “real” forms that humans and other alike creatures do. they are able to fly, shifting form into bats and disappear completely, not only turning invisible, but purely dematerializing. they are able to continue being alive following decapitation and other fates which would absolutely kill any other type of creature.

their physical being is the result of a variation of polymorphism. multiple characters in the series utilize this magic; the main ones being borch three jackdaws (aka villentretenmerth) and philippa eilhart. (dopplers are excused from this because their process of shifting form is not illusion, but perfect manipulation of their physical forms into the replication of others’). polymorphism is a magic that combines the physical and the illusory.

we see vampires dematerializing/rematerializing and changing from/into bats multiple times during the series.

Emiel Regis (...) shook his cape, wrapped himself up in it with a flourish and vanished. He simply vanished.

Baptism of Fire, pg. 220.

“Geralt,” the barber-surgeon said, his vague, wavering shadow materializing at the Witcher’s side, and immediately began to cut his bonds.”

Baptism of Fire, pg. 205

“Witcher,” said Regis. “This running is senseless. I’ll go off... I’ll fly off and do some reconnaissance.”

“Fly.”

The vampire took off as though blown by the wind. Geralt had no time to be surprised.

Lady of the Lake, pg. 352

“The bat beat its wings, soared up and glided towards the fountain. As the crooked claws scraped against the stone casing the monstrous, slobbering snout was already blurring, morphing, disappearing, although the pale little lips which were taking its place couldn’t quite hide the murderous fangs.”

The Last Wish, pg. 64.

“He (...) shot a blinding white flame at the attacking vampire (...). Regis nimbly avoided the flame and materialized in his normal shape alongside Geralt.”

Lady of the Lake, pg. 378

but unlike the others in the series who utilize polymorphism, such as villentretenmerth and philippa eilhart, vampires are able to undo their entire physical being and recreate it at will (during a full moon, when they are at their most powerful). i do not doubt that philippa eilhart and other sorcerer/esses could turn themselves invisible or undetectable, but to absolutely remove their bodily form from existence is another practice altogether.

they are able to create these physical forms and dematerialize and rematerialize them at will, during the time when they have the power to.

> vampires conciously mimic humans, mimicing humans is not something that comes naturally to them

their “true forms” in physical terms, as in what their default form is when they initially create one, are likely the giant bats that we see them transform into, and not the human-like form that we see vereena take and the form closer to a human one that we see regis take.

“He’s already surprised me a few times, so he might still have something up his sleeve. I suspect he’s quite remarkable even among vampires. He imitates humans perfectly, and has done so for years. (...) Though my medallion doesn’t react to him either, and it ought to.”

Baptism of Fire, pg. 291.

from this statement, we can glean that vampires usually do not imitate humans perfectly, and this is congruent with the characters we have been presented with. regis, unlike vereena, is able to speak aloud without telepathy and interact with a broad array of humans and non-humans, living in a human city and convincingly posing as one.

even though vereena’s normal form is more similar to a human than a bat, we receive this other statement from geralt:

“You’re so like a rusalka,” the witcher continued calmly, “that you could deceive anyone. All the more as you’re a rare bird, black-haired one. But horses are never mistaken. They recognize creatures like you instinctively and perfectly. What are you? I think you’re a moola, or an alpor. An ordinary vampire couldn’t come out in the sun.”

The Last Wish, pg. 62.

this quote focuses on the part about deception. she is posing as something she is not, she is hiding her nature as a vampire. i call this mimicry, because it’s also what regis calls it:

“One could call it that,” Regis agreed. “Although I would argue that when mutation is spread over a sufficiently long period it ceases to be mutation and becomes evolution. But what you said about physical structure is apt. Adapting to sunlight was an unpleasant necessity for us. In order to survive, we had to become like humans in that respect. Mimicry, I’d call it.”

Baptism of Fire, pg. 300.

vampires mimic humans by adopting human-like forms, but the vast majority of them are not quite that good at it. they usually can only speak in telepathy and not aloud like humans do, and so usually, they are not able to interact with humans on a large scale.

(next post)

#the witcher #emiel regis #regis #vereena #vamp squad #long post /#tagged for the tags #vampire headcanons #im only tagging that so i can find it later fkjdhfsk and tag this whole series as one cohesive thing

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my-soulful-remedy · 4 years

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I can’t stop making trolls help. but seriously...his concept bloomed.

PERSONAL INFORMATION

“Don't wait for the perfect moment to strike, strike in the current moment and make it perfect.”

Name: Kialos Sage Plutonus

Nickname(s): Pluto, Ki (Kee)

Title(s): Pluto the Phantom Prince

Gender: Male; He/Him

Age: Adult; 26 human years

Species: Troll

Race: Gumm-Gumm

Height: 6’2”

Weight: 300 + lbs

Tattoos: Various, swift strokes of amber upon his body, most notably, his chest.

Piercings: None

PERSONALITY & TRAITS

Likes: Chasing things, Hunting, Debates, Sweets, Savory Food Items, Cool breezy nights under the stars, Scrollkeeping, Writing,

Dislikes: Sour Foods, Cooked human meals, Complete darkness, being alone, sleeping too much,

Strengths: Direction, Swordplay, Culinary Arts Weaknesses: Clumsy, Shallow, ,sometimes Aggressive, Challenges authority Fears: Losing his loved ones, being alone, Fire

Aspirations: To become a strong, brave warrior

Hobbies: Scrollkeeping, Writing, Cooking, Adventuring

Personality: It's easy to get to know an open person like Pluto, but if there's anything you should know it's that he's determined and sociable. Of course he's also persuasive, balanced and daring, but these are in a way distorted by being vindictive as well.

His determination though, this is what he's most well-liked for. People often count on this and his methodical nature especially when they need comforting or support.

Nobody's perfect of course and Pluto has plenty of character faults too. His demanding nature and prejudices pose plenty of problems and could ruin plenty of evenings.

Fortunately his sociable nature assures this isn't the case very often.

Biography/History: He's witty, responsible, innocent and perhaps a little too restless. But what'd you expect from somebody with his position.

He was born in a fairly rich family in a developed town. He lived free of trouble until he was about 16 years old, but at that point things changed.

He gained new responsibilities and was gaining a little fame. Through hard work, he is part of an adventure in a wild world. But with his capability and sense of humor, there's nothing to stop him from reaching great success. He could quickly become an unstoppable force.

But there may be more to it than this; he is currently enjoying the simpler life. He feels like there's more to enjoy in this world. Luckily he has a great family to support him.

BASIC INFORMATION

Weapons/Tools: A Magic imbued Crossbow titled, Hunter’s Bane: This common compound crossbow has been adeptly constructed of valuable hickory. Its string is made from deluxe hide, it's a fairly uncommon material around these parts of the world.

The limbs have been decorated with rows of large teeth and end in curves ornamented with axe heads. The stock is wrapped in obsidian and decorated with gilded decorations.

The broad quiver is made from hollowed out bamboo and is supposed to be worn around the archer's back. The outer side has been decorated with small animal horns, which although seemingly random does have some reason behind it.

In the hands of a master archer this bow is capable of firing arrows up to 70 meters while still retaining lethal power.

Skills: Scavenging, Crossbow Accuracy, Writing,

Rank: General, Gunmar’s Mate (AU)

Occupation: General to the Gumm-Gumm Army

Accessories: He only carries a small satchel on his person which holds the poison and magic that is used to power up his crossbow.

Love Interest: Gunmar the Black,

Sworn Enemy: James Lake Jr.

Best Friend(s): Genesis,

Theme Song: Plumb-Smoke

FACTS

-He is a completely different entity in the eyes of his enemies. Around Gunmar or his dear ones, he is protective and affectionate, but when faced with danger or enemy contact, he becomes a force to be reckoned with.

--He normally comes off as antisocial at best...but will open up to some.

-Pluto is not Bular’s sire, he offered to take care of Bular when he was young, and he took over the responsibility of parenthood from then on.

--Bular to this day does not accept him as a parental figure.

-In the tradition of his tribe, it is tradition for males to carry out an act of kindness for a stranger every solstice. It's supposed to be a symbol of integrity and humbleness and it's usually part of a larger ceremony that can last for a week.

--This was how he attracted the attention of Gunmar to begin with…

-In the region of The Phantom Kin, it is tradition for men to create a traditional work of art on the first day of the third month. It's supposed to be a symbol of confidence and loyalty and it's usually part of a spiritual ritual or festivity that can last for days.

--The Phantom Kin. Built upon the intense labour, bountiful nature and bitter struggles of its past, this union is now among the most adored tribes in its corner of the world.

--Their trade, fuel production and clean water are among its current greatest strengths. Unfortunately they lack a little in natural resources and hygiene.

--TPK is a patriarchal union. There are no opposing groups against the current leadership and this doesn't appear to be changing any time soon.

--However, the current greatest threat to the nation is a flood, but the current leadership is supported by other nations to solve this issue.

--The people of The Phantom Kin are delighted. They live great lives and while natural resources might be lacking, their trade helps relieve most of their issues.

--Religion holds a fair deal of importance in their lives and, if anything, has made them more faithful. The people of The Phantom Kin are moderately spiritual as well and they have an abundance of celebrations and special rituals.

#trollhunters #tales of arcadia #trollsona #troll #original character #my art #art of pluto #gumm-gumm #gumm-gumm troll

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