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jolapeno · 11 months

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i. to fix a porch

joel miller x f!reader | chapter one of honey stained hands

chapter summary: it’s why he allows himself the chance to look, to admire. His hand slides in yours all over again, as you offer your name—dutifully exchanged. and all he can think is, you’re a pretty thing. He’s seen pretty, laid with it lifetimes ago, but there’s something different in you.

wordcount: 3.5k warnings: typical canon-angst. my spelling. joel trying to fit in and be good for ellie. an: i am so nervous about this. i hope you like. huge thanks to @guyfieriii + @thetriumphantpanda for holding both my hands.

The world had gone to shit, but the world hadn’t gone to shit.

It still grew, expanded—and changed.

Just as it once had. The grass didn’t stop turning green. The trees didn’t stop rustling, the flowers didn’t stop pollinating between bones and disintegrating fabric.

Nature, in all its immensity, didn’t bow to the cordyceps that stole minds and whispered destruction along roads and grass. Nature didn’t allow the rot to take the seasons, as it had done with so many other things.

The end of times wasn’t allowed to touch the moon’s schedule. It didn’t have an impact on how the daylight grew shorter and the night span longer. It had no bearing on the way leaves turned golden, the dew appeared on tall grass, or how both danced under amber-rising and lemon-setting suns.

The outbreak took souls, but it didn’t rid the craved scents of stews and freshly baked apples—two aromas that flooded Jackson's roads.

Mostly, even if something else thrummed along the ground, and spoke in claimed lives, it couldn’t try and claim to have any effect on the way frost made the morning path glitter—or how it made the world still feel magical.

Fungus had stolen a lot. Had spread its poison across state lines and once happy towns. But it couldn’t thieve the natural beauty that shifted in three monthly turns.

Joel wakes in a sea of sweat, panic and desperation. Forehead clammy. Salt and pepper hair clinging in thin spider-leg lines against the creases of his frown.

Each morning, since Joel has been here, has followed the same pattern. The shadowy nightmares were still there, ever-present—swirling and twirling, not ready to stop their dance. Even if the sun is blasting through, informing them it’s morning—it’s the time their claws should retract and allow him to experience a new day.

They never really do. They remain, hanging in the edges of his thoughts, his eyes—even as sleeping thoughts diluted into the present day.

Just the same as he did yesterday and the day before, his closed fist rubs in gentle circles against his chest—right over his heart. Where it thumps and beats, hammering quickly. Fingers and palm attempting to soothe it, half-wishing he could weave under milk-white bone and release the guilt-wrapped tendrils around it.

It doesn’t matter what his routine involves, it’s all in vain.

Little to nothing alleviates it. Not the circles of his hand over the bobbled t-shirt he sleeps in or the way he wills himself to breathe, to fill his lungs—advice given against his will.

Joel has attempted a lot of things, but the tightness always remains. The imaginary vines forever constricting, all stemmed with thorns, digging in, tightening their hold as he struggled to gasp, never mind breathe. It’s like a fungus of its own, a thing poisoning him, ruining him, blackening what’s left of his soul.

All because he made a choice—one he’d make a thousand times (if given the chance).

Blinking, he slowly sits. Back aching, body groaning as the honeyed sun coats the place he calls his. It flutters over the set of drawers, the flannel draped over the handle of his closet, and the strings of the guitar, gifted by Tommy to keep him busy and out of trouble.

It’s a good place he’s found himself in. A normal place—one found in the centre of moving on and trying to live life. Something he gives enough of a shit not to let it be torn from him and a thing he worries is being tugged from his grip all the same.

One wrong move.

That’s what he hears, even if no one says it. It never leaves their lips, but instead is etched into the faces of everyone he has been introduced to. It was discernible on his sister-in-law's face when he and Ellie appeared; it was poorly concealed by his brother when he’d handed him the instrument.

So much so, that he’s become worried all of this—the safety, the future for Ellie—will be taken from him if he breathes wrong. If he makes eye contact a little too quickly, a little too sternly, too forcibly and not followed quickly enough by a half-smile.

He tries. Not for him, but for her. The same person he keeps his jeans close by and his t-shirt on for—the one that makes him sleep on the side so his good ear can hear a scream of his name—just in case. The same person who manages to shift off the worry, dusting him down without knowing the impact she has on him—the young person who forms him, shapes him into someone half-decent, who is willing to try, who is willing to do things with his hands that isn’t fighting or shooting.

The only time Ellie has shouted for him since being here, though, is for breakfast.

Now, the house is silent—too silent. A smile almost appearing all on its own. An image bubbling, appearing, blanketing over the nightmares that tried to linger. One of her, in her new bedroom—the one she keeps talking about painting—all asleep, mouth open, catching flies.

Joel snorts, swallowing it back. All of the darkness that is weaved inside of him. Focuses on the little flecks of dust that glitter in the glow of a new day, how they fall absently in the space between light and dark—making a choice, one he makes each day, to be here. To try.

His hand slides from his chest, landing on his wrist. Sighing, he closes his eyes and lets his thumb slide over the broken glass of his watch—the one he never removes—another thing he does daily. Another thing that has become a routine.

He knew what Jackson was when he arrived the second time. A communal, a place where everyone chips in.

Joel had expected something more to be requested from him. Almost braced to be told he would be stationed on the other side of the gate—in a more permanent role than others. But, he wasn’t.

If anything, he was given tasks.

Menial things, but tasks all the same.

Little jobs, all reminiscent of a handyman back before things to fungus and rot. Oddities, bits and bobs. Projects half-finished or never begun at all—assigned, handed to him, chosen for him because he’s there and capable. And not, as Tommy explains, is because no one trusts him.

The first had been his own porch. The wood split, cracked, creaking—an accident waiting to happen (a thing he’d muttered to Tommy when he’d first walked up the steps of it), more so as the days became shorter and the nights loomed closer.

He shouldn’t have been surprised to find a toolbox placed at his feet the next day. A smug look on his younger brother’s face: think it’s time y’fix y’damn porch, brother. A clap on the back to cement it, a promise silently exchanged—that he could ask more of him when he was done.

And Tommy did, just not how he expected.

His breath mists the same as Tommy’s when he sighs, the weather biting as the two hovered on his newly repaired porch: got something else for you to do.

Maybe he should have said something when the silence filled the air when Joel suggested after. That he’d be good on patrol, that he could help in ways that weren’t repairing porches, front of shops and whatever else he brought to his door. If not for the fact he was grateful for the chance, for her—for the girl who is slowly making friends, who is beginning to smile—he may have done. The old Joel would have. He’d have pointed out that his skin isn’t stained with scarlet, that his hands are worn, but not smeared with the guts of those who’d crossed him. That he’d hung up as much of the former demons as he could.

He suspected, deep down, that Tommy could still see them haunting him. Knew that they kept him awake when the world went silent—that Joel didn’t sleep until the moon was at its highest, and woke with them jeering at him, perched on his shoulders, poking holes into his soul.

Joel also presumed that Tommy could see the way guilt had looped itself inside of him, strangling, making truthfulness harder to spill. Even if Tommy had no idea. Even if Joel hadn’t whispered to even the animals, never mind a person, what happened before he and Ellie had arrived.

So, he doesn’t argue, not as he’s handed another task, and another, then another. Days seep into weeks, weeks ticking into another month. Each time, his jaw grits, and his head nods, all well-versed, practised, as he picks up his toolbox and heads where he’s needed.

Except, today, when he’d finished up the fence that contained the sheep, a request came from someone else—a person he had spotted, but never spoken to. They were weary, guarded—approaching with caution as though bracing for him to snap, to become the callous individual they’ve likely heard through the whispers of gossiped stories.

In time, they approach, asking, burying their hands into their pockets as they do, before they continue with their reasoning for the request—one not for themself, but another person in Jackson.

A person Joel realised was his neighbour.

He’d been a good neighbour once, almost a lifetime ago.

Had hoped that it would come to him when Tommy had introduced him to you the following morning after he and Ellie returned. Your hand in his, smaller, but warm, a smile that was inviting, but slid over to Ellie upon Tommy’s introduction.

You usually rose early, that he had learnt when he’d begun to watch the sunrise before the leaves not just changed, but began to litter the floor in an array of shades. A pattern of habits he had picked up when he’d descended his own staircase, finding you already passing his home or your lights were on, already busy ticking off the hours of your day.

Today, he’d spotted (thankfully) the latter. His coat was thrown on, boots stepped into, toolbox in hand before he closed his door behind him and headed over. Your name on the tip of his tongue, all heavy, thick—an array of unsorted letters he’s hoping will shift into something as he climbs the steps to your front door. The syllables there, desperate to form, but in no order when his hand lifts to knock.

Air is what greets him, as the door rips open before his knuckles can even make contact.

Now, he’s standing in front of you—again. Your eyes land on him, brushing over in thick strokes of warmth, and all he can focus on is how you don’t step back in fright or stand a little taller. If anything, you don’t react, don’t move, as though it’s normal he’s there standing, talking to you.

“Oh, hi? It’s Joel, isn’t it?”

It’s kind, sweet, your tone. Eyes wide in a way that reminds him of a surprised, small animal—except, you’re grinning, not spooked. No sign of fear or question sketched across your features, or into the rest of your face, not as he stands, hovering.

It’s why he allows himself the chance to look, to admire. His hand slides in yours all over again, as you offer your name—dutifully exchanged.

And all he can think is, you’re a pretty thing. He’s seen pretty, laid with it lifetimes ago, but there’s something different in you. Something that has remained, that has weathered the storm of whatever it is, and however you came to be. Your smile rises, sliding into your cheeks, as his brain snaps a Polaroid of it and stores it somewhere less dusty in his mind.

“I just have to nip out, do you need something?”

Your hand sliding a jacket—one he’d just noticed in your hand—around your frame. It buries you, smothering, hiding yourself into it as you pull it around, watching, studying him as he does the same to you.

Shaking his head, he glances at your porch. “No, ma’am. Jus’ here to fix your porch.”

Sighing, you roll your eyes. “I make one comment and… anyway, I don’t want to trouble you. You don’t have to.”

“Maybe I want to.”

Looking down, you stare around at the porch. Him waiting, watching. “Guess it’s lucky for you, I wasn’t planning on taking it with me.”

It tugs from him, not forcibly pulled, but rather rolling from his mouth willingly: a laugh. It’s gruff, covered in cobwebs and sheets. It’s different, laughing with an adult compared to a pun book in the hands of a child.

“Well, definitely makes my life a bit easier that you’re not.”

Smirking, you lick your lips—a thing he spots, and finds makes his cheeks burn. “Yeah, guessing that following me around the animal pen wouldn’t be your favourite thing… after the other day.”

His eyes narrow, attempting to follow—until it dawns. Until it slams into him.

“You saw.”

“I did. Roscoe is a very boisterous sheep, though. So, it’s more on him than you.”

Cursing under his breath, he dips his head. Trying to stifle the embarrassment, the one rising in him like a phoenix, swarming up.

“Anyway, do you need any tools…”

That’s when he notices how your voice dies, your smile fading. Your words all fall from existence as the warmth around the two of you suddenly chills, as though he’s been plunged into a snowstorm. Your eyes had dropped, landing on the box in his hand.

It’s long, too long.

Almost prolonged, the quietness shifting into awkwardness until you’re blinking, head lifting, chin rising, determined and full of insolence.

“I’ll be back soon, yeah?”

Nodding, he swallows. Ignoring, for your sake, that your voice cracks before you’re hurrying past him. Watching, and staring until you’re a blip, a little figure in the distance of the cold morning—unable to forget about it, the look, the one that unhooked something in him.

Because it made him question—made him want to ask.

His hand shifts around the handle of the toolbox, staring down at it—the one he suspects belongs to someone you knew, someone you were close to. One that is in the hands of someone you don’t know, someone you live next to, that you know nothing about.

Except stories.

And fuck, Joel knows the stories can’t be good.

Joel had maybe made an assumption that you’d never speak to him again.

Sarah’s voice, barely discernable, wafting around his mind, assumptions make an ass of you and me, dad. He blamed it on being bitter, tired—or grumpy, as Ellie liked to call him. The kind of qualities he’d rather be known for, than the ones he sees reflected in the eyes of the people living here, wondering the kind of man he was to go back out there and then return.

He’d made the assumption based on the way your eyes flicked to the toolbox when you’d eventually returned home—him halfway done, waving away your offer to help. You barely spoke, and skirted around him, only placing a glass of lemonade on the welcome mat as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

He drained the glass, and hated how good it tasted. Keeping in mind to leave the toolbox outside when he rapped his knuckles on your open door to bring the glass back in, inform you that he’s done. You call out to him, eventually coming into view—apron on, doused in flour, cheeks and smile smothered in it.

For a moment, he could almost forget an outbreak had even happened with the way you looked at him—the way you looked in general. Something out of one of those cooking shows that play at ridiculous hours of the night; a thing that’d had a street talking about with sweet you sounded.

“I bake—sometimes,” you announce, hands down your apron, leaving flour-finger strokes against the navy blue.

He could see that. Placing the glass on the side, thanking you—watching you glance around him, likely for that. He almost tells you, informs you it’s outside, left on your porch. But, he waves himself off as a beeping begins, that he’ll get out of your hair, because you’re busy—knowing deep down it’s the right thing to do.

That’s how he left it.

Nothing more, nothing less.

His thoughts sliding to you when he saw you talking to others; his mind unable to rid himself of the way you’d looked at the box he’d been given to be a helping hand.

So, it surprised him when he watched you climb the steps of his porch from outside Tommy’s. Something in his chest narrowing—different from the way it does when he wakes up in the morning. Observing how you’re nervously shaking your free hand, moving from one foot to the other—a thin t-shirt covering your frame (no coat or jacket on your arms) as you try to stand still in the chill at his dark doorstep.

It’s only as he nears that he sees what your other hand is holding. A bottle, the contents from appearing amber in shade. The hesitancy woven into your figure is more prominent as he reaches his own boundary, unsure whether to clear his throat—and only doing so when you knock.

“Heard he’s out fixing more porches.”

Turning, he finds you smirking. Spinning around on your heels, slowly taking a step down—still above him—before your hand gestures for him to take the bottle. “A thank you.”

Thank you, he thinks, staring at it. His thumb catches your fingers as he tries to ignore the twist and knot of his stomach when he eyes the label. It used to help, for all the wrong reasons. It’s why he’d tried not to drink since arriving here, still able to remember how it used to scratch an itch, how it smothered over scabs—ones that never healed.

It unlocks that part of him that worries that they’ll become inflamed again. All raw, hot to the touch.

“Y’didnt need to.”

“Well, it was alcohol or baked goods—and you strike me as a drinker over shortbread.”

Snorting, he lifted his head, swallowing. “I do like shortbread.”

Your face lights up—shimmers—under the slowly setting sun. A part of him wishing you’d brought him a tin of those instead.

Because the main reason he hadn’t been to the Tipsy Bison is that he preferred the version of him that didn’t drink. The one from before all of this happened—the one with a clearer mind. One that isn’t trying to run but rather settle and live—the one that comes out when he tastes something akin to what he shared with Tess.

The bottle in his hand demands his attention—a note attached to it that reads the same as your words. Gratitude humming, rolling from you, all in plenty. The entry at being neighbours suddenly ajar, the door taken from the hinges so it can never be closed again.

“Next time, then?”

You say it purposeful, full of genuine nature. And, it makes him roll his jaw, biting the inside of his cheek. Palm and fingers still clutching the bottle—unsure if he likes this. The neighbour thing—the pretty neighbour thing. Especially one who looks at him with a sweet smile and who makes lemonade just because.

“I should go, don’t want to interrupt your evening—”

“Well, the only thing you’re interrupting is whether or not I should open this now or wait.”

You stop moving at that, coming to a stop in front of him, smile broadening, almost turning into a smirk. “

Rubbing the back of his neck, he sighs. “Got another job in the morning. Be a lot on my own.”

“What problems to have, ay?”

He snorts.

But then, he finds you nodding, licking your lips. “How about this, for the safety of the porches of Jackson, I’ll help you with your problem.”

“And what’s my problem?”

“You don’t wanna drink alone—likely worried about what it means if you do.”

You say it nonchalantly, as though seeing through him was a relatively easy task. Your body is still not moving; the cold either not bothering you, or you are faking it all so well.

“Alright.”

“Alright,” you say, slightly more chipper than him.

CHAPTER TWO ->

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #pedrostories #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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allzelemonz · 1 year

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Sit Still: Arthur Morgan X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 6, Dubcon/Frottage Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Slight dubcon, frottage, sex with clothes on, grinding, kissing, neck kissing, marking, low honor Arthur Morgan, dominate Arthur and submissive Reader, sleeping, slight cuddling Summary: With the whole camp noticing Arthur’s darker turn recently, Dutch sent you out to keep an eye on him.

The gang isn’t entirely sure what’s been going on with Arthur. All Miss Grimshaw told was that he’d told Mary-Beth that he’d been killing people without reason. Even Dutch is concerned, shutting himself and Hosea in his tent to talk about their son. You heard John telling Abigail not to let Jack near him for now. Kieran’s been shyer around him. Uncle hasn’t asked him for money. Something is wrong with the Van der Linde work horse, his mind isn’t as it should be.

So being alone with him is a little unnerving.

Dutch warned you explicitly before you left for this overnight job. “Watch him.” He said. “Tell me what you think.”

You glance up at Arthur. His eyes are fixed on the fire as he pokes it with a stick. He seems fine right now and he was pleasant enough on the ride out, telling a few jokes and making idle conversation. Dutch trusted you with this little ruse, a half baked job to observe Arthur’s mental state, because he knows you can handle yourself. You could fight him off at the very least, get to your horse, and you can watch him unlike Micah or Bill.

Still, your heart races.

“What’s got you all worked up?” Arthur mutters, eyes fixing on you as he sits back on his bedroll across the fire. “Somethin’ Dutch said?”

Your breath hitches but you shake it, keeping your cool. “Just cold out here, should’ve worn a better coat.”

Arthur hums, his eyes boring into you so hard you can feel it.

He just seems different, very much not himself. You know Arthur well enough to know he’s not usually the kind of man to feel so off putting. He’s an outlaw, sure, but he’s usually the type you’d feel safe sharing a camp with. Right now you have half a mind to think he might slit your throat in your sleep. But it’s Arthur, he wouldn’t do anything like that. He wouldn’t.

“Cold, huh?”

You meet his eyes for a moment, that same bright color shaded by the dark flames. They look menacing somehow, even though you’ve seen them scrunched with laughter and accompanied by flushed cheeks. You just nod.

“Suppose I am too.” He says without a hint of a shiver. “Maybe we should share, keep each other warm.”

You feel a twinge in your chest. Share? With Arthur? No doubt you’ve thought about it, cuddling up to him in his tent on cold nights at camp. And you especially thought about it when you were up in Colter. But now, with the way Arthur’s been these past few weeks, the thought makes you nervous.

“I’m alright, Arthur.”

“No.” He says gruffly. “I insist.”

You stare for a moment. Insist?

Then Arthur moves, standing and walking off into the dark. You assume he goes to take a piss, not overly concerned about his whereabouts. He’s too far away to see for a while so you give yourself time to think. Arthur Morgan… insisting?

It happens fast, hands shoving your shoulders and weight on top of you before you can do anything. You’re pinned to your bedroll and when you look up, it’s Arthur’s dazzling eyes looking down at you. He’s sitting on your legs, just below your gunbelt, his hands holding your wrists on either side of your head.

You swallow your nerves before you speak. “Arthur?”

He shushes you, soft and smooth, as he moves your wrists together so he can hold them with one hand. You don’t have the present mind to protest anyway. With his newly free hand, he unbuckles your gunbelt and you mindlessly lift your hips to let him pull it off.

“Good boy.” He mutters, his hand settling on your stomach. “Sit still fer me.”

You don’t dare move when he lets your wrists go. Arthur could kill you in a second if he really wanted to. Even if you still had your guns, no one is a faster draw than him. He shifts up your legs a little, leaning forward so his body covers yours. Your mouth goes dry when you feel it, Arthur’s dick pressing into your own. It’s hard, straining against his pants as he begins to grind into you. He hardly bothers to spare you of his weight, leaning hard into you and his arms only serving to sit beside your head as he breathes against your neck. His legs are spread over you, leaving only your own legs as a probable means of escape.

But do you want to?

Arthur’s an attractive man, usually a good one too. The Arthur you know would have asked before pinning you down, he would’ve been more gentle about it. But this… this feels good too. Arthur’s dick rubbing yours through two layers of pants has already gotten you half hard, and when you feel his lips at your neck, you become solid. Arthur groans against your skin, his hips digging against yours further and faster. He’s sloppy, needy, and you wonder why he doesn’t just shed the clothes keeping you apart.

In a way, you’re thankful he doesn’t.

“Ya feel good, boy.” He murmurs, his lips pressing wet, hot kisses along your neck.

“Arthur…”

He shushes you again, moving his head to kiss you properly. He’s warm and he tastes so deeply of whiskey you have to wonder if he’s drunk. The movement of his hips distracts you before you can think much about it. Fast, impossible good ruts that make your clothes rub heavenly against your sensitive dick. And when paired with Arthur’s rough lips on your own and the force of it all, you feel yourself getting close.

Arthur pulls away from the kiss, sitting up slightly as his hands return to hold your wrists. You haven’t moved them, you’ve barely moved at all. Only the slight jut of your hips or the squirming of your legs, nothing Arthur has noticed. He grinds down against you, a low groan coming out of him and you have to hold your own expressions in.

“Knew you’d be good.” He mutters. “Just wait ‘til I do this proper.”

You feel a hitch in your throat, then the waves over take you as Arthur ruts faster. You grind up into him and you can hear him chuckle as he leans down to suck a mark into your neck. Your vision blurs a bit as you come down. There’s a new feeling that accompanies the same heavy weight of Arthur, a wet warmth in your pants. Arthur has drooped into you, his breathing slow and steady and his arms wrapped around you. Timidly, you move your arms around him once you hear the gentle snores.

You have no idea what you’ll tell Dutch now.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x male reader #red dead redemption x male reader #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #x reader #x male reader #fictober #kinktober

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pochipop · 1 year

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＃MYSTIC MESSENGER !! ♡ — A LITTLE LITTLE MORE LOVE.

#. synopsis! — sweet gestures from them to you .

#. characters! — hyun (zen), jumin, saeyoung (707), yoosung, jaehee .

#. warnings! — none .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — back in the mm pit because it's summer and it's time for my annual redownload <3 i've also been thinking about opening a discord, so if anyone has thoughts on that, i'd love to hear them! PLUS, i played the free demo for this indie otome-esque game on steam called homicipher, and i am begging for the release of the first chapter, idk if any of you have played it, but i am way too addicted for having only played like half an hour of it. anyway lolol, enjoy!!

＃ HYUN (ZEN) !! ♡

Hyun, who buys bouquets of flowers every now and again on his way back home from rehearsals. He does his best to match the colors to your needs, —yellow on sad days in hopes they might lift your spirits, blue when you’re frustrated so that it might calm you down, etc.. They always smell so sweet, and you cherish them deeply. They always live longer than they typically should as a result of how well you care for them, and he loves to see the bashful smile tug at your lips as you accept them gracefully, even if you always tell him that he “really shouldn’t have” or that he “didn’t have to.” He does it because he loves you, and he thinks someone as beautiful as you should be presented with something just as gorgeous every now and again (even if he admittedly thinks you’re worlds prettier than flowers could ever be.)

＃ JUMIN !! ♡

Jumin, who writes little notes on the corner of the napkins he rests your coffee or tea on each morning, delicate and elegant handwriting in black ink sinking so perfectly into the ivory material. They’re never the same, always a different expression of his love or his admiration. You like to tear them off and keep them safe in a little box, and you open it up to read them when you’ve had a hard day or when you’re just not feeling your best. He always tells you that you don’t have to keep them, that he won’t be offended if you simply toss them away after you’ve read them and they’ve made you smile, —but you can never bring yourself to do it.

＃ SAEYOUNG (707) !! ♡

Saeyoung, who folds little origamis for you when he gets the chance and leaves them somewhere around for you to find. It started with a tiny paper star he was folding for the heck of it, but you liked it so much that he decided to do it again, and again, and again. So now you have a neat little stash of different animals, shapes, and otherwise cool-looking creations (all of which have silly, blank expressions drawn onto them as faces that really add a sweetness to their personality.) You like to sit and fiddle with them every now and again, just to feel the sharp edges of the crane’s beak against your fingertips or to split the little heart apart and see the “i love you <3” written on the inside.

＃ YOOSUNG !! ♡

Yoosung, who buys sticky notes for his studies but ends up using most of them to leave you little notes with cute messages and silly doodles. He likes to think this is a better usage for them, especially when he watches you spot one out of the corner of his eye, and you hold it in your hands like it’s some kind of love-stricken poetry from a wordsmith he knows he’ll never be. They might be simple and straightforward, but there’s not much room for stanzas of prose on these little post-its, and reminders that you’re doing a good job or that you look cute are so much more than enough.

＃ JAEHEE !! ♡

Jaehee, who bakes you little desserts for you to eat when you get home, often heart-shaped or dusted in romantic colors, —always in your favorite flavors. Cookies with little jam hearts in the center, cupcakes with heart sprinkles and a cream just to your liking filling up the inside; each and every one made with so much love that you can practically taste it on your tongue. There’s no one else she’d rather bake for, and no one else she’d rather spend the rest of her days with. Sometimes words are hard to come by, and she worries she won’t always get it right, but when you kiss her on the cheek before taking a bite of her treats, well. . . She thinks things will be alright anyway.

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daisynik7 · 11 months

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“S&M” by Rihanna for Toji Fushiguro - smut

S&M

I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it. Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.0k

cw: smut - PIV sex (doggy style), cunnilingus, mild S&M practices - whips, blindfold, handcuffs, protected sex (for once lol), use of safe word, rough sex, pet names (cutie, sweetheart)

Summary: You are next-door neighbors with a man named Toji Fushiguro. You don’t know much about him, except for the fact that he’s a divorced father who spends every other weekend with his young son, Megumi. On the weeks he doesn’t have him, you notice the same trio of women visiting his house. One night, his package gets incorrectly delivered to your door. Too curious, you walk over to return it, only to find the front door unlocked and a naughty secret to discover.

Author’s Notes: Thanks for the request anon! I love Rihanna, so it’s no surprise that she’s on the y2k karaoke party playlist! I personally am not well-versed with S&M practices, so this was an experience to write, definitely a little bit out of my comfort zone, but I hope it’s still okay! This is more on the milder side, I'm sure. Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated, thanks for reading! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

You’re not usually this nosey when it comes to your neighbors, but something about Toji Fushiguro draws you in. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s a divorced dad who takes good care of his adorable son, Megumi. Or maybe it’s the mysterious trio of women who frequently visits his house on the weeks he doesn’t have his child. Or maybe it’s his obvious good looks and impressive physique that you can’t help but notice every time he steps foot outside. Whatever it is, whether it’s a combination of all of the above, you just can’t get Toji Fushiguro off your mind.

On this particular Friday night, you’re staying in, binging a TV show with a glass of white wine in your hands and a frozen pizza that you just baked in the oven. There’s a knock on your front door, which surprises you because you aren’t expecting anybody at this hour. You give it a few moments, seeing if there’s another knock. When none comes, you get up to scope it out, finding a large package directly in front of you and a delivery truck driving off in the distance. You check the shipping label, reading Toji’s name on it instead of yours. You glance at his front yard, spotting his car parked in the driveway and no one else’s. His girlfriends must have already left; you noticed their vehicle earlier beside his.

Not bothering to change into anything presentable, currently wearing your sweats and fuzzy slippers, you carry the wrongly delivered package to its rightful owner, hoping if you can find some truth behind your neighbor’s unique bi-weekly ritual. You’ve thought about it before, the most likely answer being a polyamorous relationship or group sex. Still, it’ll put your mind to rest to know exactly what he does in there when little Megumi is away and Toji is free to play. So, you carefully lift the box, which isn’t heavy, over to his front door, setting it down to ring the bell. You push the button, then notice that the door is already open, slightly ajar. Another ring, and no one comes, though you’re certain you hear movement inside.

You should turn around. Go back home, sink into your couch, continue the night as normal. Yet, your feet guide you in, closing the door shut behind you, tip-toeing farther into the house, waiting to catch Toji in the act, whatever that could be. Eventually, you make it to the living room, where you stand in the doorframe, searching for your neighbor, who you find sitting on the couch with his shirt off, scrolling through his phone.

You knock on the wall, announcing your presence. He looks up, confused, inspecting you carefully before saying your name. “What are you doing in here?” He’s way more cavalier than you imagined he’d be, which you’re thankful for.

You present the box to him, a nervous grin on your face as you explain, “This just got delivered to my house on accident. I rang the bell, but no one answered. And your front door was open, so I figured I’d just come inside to give it to you.” It’s a poor excuse; you really shouldn’t have barged in without permission.

He seems to buy it though, rolling his eyes, muttering, “Damn Kimi. She’s always doing that.” He approaches you, grabbing the box from your hands. “Thank you for getting this to me. Been waiting for it all night, so I was bummed it didn’t come in on time.” He sets it down on the floor, kneeling beside it, ready to unwrap.

You search the room, trying to find any clues of what they could be doing inside here. It looks normal, nothing nefarious standing out. Slightly disappointed, you take this as your cue to leave, turning on your heel to make your way back home. Before you can, Toji calls out your name and asks, “Don’t you want to see the little present I got? After all, it was almost yours. Would have loved to see your reaction if you opened it by accident.” His tone is playful, yet there’s something wicked behind his words. Something naughty.

You swallow hard, mouth already salivating. This isn’t how you planned your night to go, but you’d be lying if you said you haven’t thought about it before. You face him again, stepping towards the box slowly, sitting on the other side. He uses a pocketknife to slice through the tape, eyes lighting up as he reaches inside, holding up his delivered item like a treasure. It’s a riding whip, soft leather on one end, handle on the other. He smirks at you, slapping it against his palm, making a loud crack sound. You jump up, startled by the noise. He barks a laugh at your reaction, laying the whip down on the coffee table next to him. He reaches in again, pulling out three sets of fuzzy handcuffs, twirling one around his fingers. “Damn, would have been fun to use these tonight.” Glancing over at you, legs squeezed tightly together, arousal seeping through your panties, he scans you up and down, giving you a wicked smile. “You want to try these out, neighbor? I promise, I’ll go easy on you.”

It's ridiculous, right? Completely silly and irresponsible for you to agree to this, right? You blurt out your answer before you can even contemplate those questions logically. “Yes.”

He chuckles, biting him lip, eyes focused on your loins currently throbbing against the fabric of your sweats. You really wish you dressed up now, but it doesn’t matter, as he commands you to, “Strip.”

Almost too eagerly, you obey, kicking your slippers off and undressing, starting with your shirt, which you toss behind your shoulder. He studies you carefully, eyes following your every move as you slip out of your pants, down to only your underwear and bra now. He licks his lips, stepping closer to you. “Yeah,” he purrs, breath hot on your skin. “This will definitely work.”

~~~

Within minutes, you find yourself naked in his bedroom, blindfolded, wrists handcuffed behind you, face buried into the pillow, and ass up, perfectly vulnerable for him to do as he pleases. The two of you establish a safe word: mignon, because he thinks you’re cute, and the filet mignon is his favorite cut of meat. He suggests several acts he wants to perform on you and lets you decide which ones you want to go through with. You make your choice, asking to be spanked with the new whip he received. Something about breaking in one of his new accessories turns you on.

Not being able to see anything, you listen carefully to what he’s doing behind you. You hear him unwrap the condom wrapper, sliding the latex over his cock. Then, there’s a squelch, most likely the lube he’s pouring into his hand, coating his shaft with it. “Are you ready, cutie? I’m going to start with the whip first, okay?” You nod, heart pounding in your chest, nervous and thrilled all at once.

“Words, sweetheart. Use your words. I have to hear you say it.”

You swallow your spit, trying to speak coherently. “Yes. I’m ready.”

“Good. That’s a good girl.” You feel the cool leather against your skin, anticipating it as he counts down. “Three, two, one.” Then, smack. It’s quick, painful for only a few seconds. You can tell he’s holding back, cautious of you. “Did you like that?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say, wiggling your ass to him. “Give it to me harder.”

He chuckles, swearing under his breath. “Fuck, okay. I’ll go harder then.” He counts down once more, the slap definitely more intense this time. Your skin stings from the contact and it feels like you’re already gushing from your cunt, core tight with pleasure.

He continues this until he’s delivered ten smacks to each of your ass cheeks. Your body is sweltering now, the skin on your ass surely hotter than the rest of you. Your pussy flutters, aching to be filled, clit throbbing, desperate to be licked. “Toji,” you whimper, drooling from the sides of your mouth. “Fuck me.”

There’s that laugh again, low, taunting, so fucking sexy. “Not yet. Want to make you come before I fuck this pretty cunt.” He positions himself beneath you, between your legs. “Fuck my face. You can be rough with me. I can take it.”

His grip is firm on your hips, guiding you as you ride him, spreading yourself over his wide tongue and gaping mouth. He’s eats you better than any guy you’ve ever fucked before, sloppy and wet, as if he thoroughly enjoys slurping at your juices. He slides his hands over your ass, massaging the skin made raw from his spanking. And before you get a chance to warn him, you come all over his face, gushing into his mouth.

“Fuck yeah,” he muffles, lapping up your slick. “So fucking good for me.”

Desperate now to be filled, you beg, “Please, Toji. Fuck me. Need you inside me.”

He slides out from beneath you, positioning himself behind you with his cock pressed between your ass cheeks. “I need it too, cutie. Need to pump my fat cock inside this perfect pussy.” He moans loudly as he slides himself inside you, stretching you out, inch by inch, until you swallow him whole. He thrusts into you, slowly at first while you adjust to his length. Gradually, he picks up the pace, pounding you hard and fast, his grip on your wrists, still bound by the handcuffs. The stretch in your shoulders is starting to burn now, arms pinned way back as he uses it for leverage. It’s not enough to coax the safe word out of you, yet. You need more of him to satiate this overwhelming desire.

“You’re taking it like such a good girl,” he moans, pumping himself into you. “Did you ever think about this before? Think about me?”

“Fuck yes. All the time,” you admit, drooling onto the pillowcase.

“Shit, I knew it. I knew I should have slutted you out sooner,” he growls, bullying his way deeper. It’s almost too much. Almost. A couple more strokes and it actually is, your shoulders sore, nervous they’ll pop out of its sockets. You’ve had your fill of him, your guts feeling like they’ve been rearranged by his massive cock. You’re tempted to stay quiet, not wanting this to end just yet. But your body is begging you for a break.

“Mignon,” you croak out, throat dry from the incessant moaning.

“Fuck,” he mutters, pulling out, immediately unlocking the handcuffs on your wrists and untying the blindfold. “You were taking that so good.” He flips you over on your back, inspecting you. For the first time since you started, you make eye contact with him, your heart swelling from the genuine smile on his face, gazing at you fondly. “Are you okay, cutie?” He brushes the tears from your eyes, cupping your cheek in his calloused palm.

You nod, mumbling an exhausted, “Yes,” closing your eyes to lean into his touch.

He cuddles you, kissing your neck as he continues to stroke himself off. He trails down your chest, latching his lips around your nipple, sucking until he comes inside the condom. When he’s done, he removes it, tying the open end closed and tossing it into the waste basket next to him bed.

It’s silent for a few moments as the two of you relax in each other’s arms. Eventually, he clears his throat to say, “This was fun. I usually don’t do this outside of the group.”

You understand that he’s referring to the trio of women who you saw earlier, and finally, the mystery is solved. Slightly disappointed, you respond, “I’m sorry if I messed anything up.”

He smiles at you. “You didn’t.”

You snuggle closer, kissing him softly. His lips melt into yours, tongue slipping inside your mouth. When you break apart, you ask, “Then, should I only show up when they show up?”

He shakes his head, smirking. “No. I think I want you as my own special plaything from now on.”

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk toji #toji x you #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji smut #fushiguro toji x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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skrrts · 29 days

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strawberry cakes (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x park seonghwa ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, fluff, engaged ✧ word count: 1,8k ✧ warnings: food/eating

After the most adorable proposal & your graduation, Seonghwa and you are ready to start the journey to plan the wedding of your dreams: maybe you do not have the greatest budget but isn't it normal for all couples to make use of the free wedding cake-tasting?

a/n: this came to mind when i saw hwa's new Instagram post yesterday. it's kind of inspired by one of my drabbles but you can totally read it without having read that one and maybe one day i will write the wedding to go with it T_T

After graduation and moving together, starting your first job, Seonghwa and you both spent a few weeks going through budgeting. With your small savings and the little your families added (insisting it was what they should do), it was obvious that you really would get the small wedding you two dreamt of but it also meant, cutting a little on corners that you likely would have enjoyed to invest more in. Not that it was tragic, but your aunts all were amazing bakers and you had no doubts, you had to worry less about them volunteering to help with a buffet, baking a few things so you could put that money in the most important cake of all.

After going through the options, Seonghwa and you settled down with one specific bakery that really seemed lovely, based on photos and reviews from other couples online. They even were in your budget if you decided to go with one of their less decorated cakes but your fiance had the idea that you really should make the most out of the cake testing which would mean plenty of free sweets.

"You really dressed the part," you chuckled as Seonghwa was cutely posing in front of you, grinning. "Well, we two are stunning, they will easily take we are some rich picky couple. The story of us being torn between an aesthetical or minimalistic wedding will be the perfect excuse why we end up with a smaller kind of order if we go for them."

His arms curled around your figure as he placed a kiss on top of your forehead. "You really have no bad feelings for stealing cake from them, don't you?"

Your man looked just a little innocent: "I'd not say we steal. After all, we go there with the actual intention of hiring them. I would more say, we take the same right as all of those other couples, the full experience."

Oh, how could you not think he was the sweetest?

"Of course, of course. Well, if my outfit is approved of by my very wealthy husband-to-be, I'd say we are good to go?"

Seonghwa stepped back as you playfully posed for him but he gave you the kindest of smiles, the spark in his eyes ever so present. He never stopped looking at you like this, if anything, his admiration seemed to grow, sometimes making you feel just a little shy.

"You are the most beautiful person in the entire universe for me," he whispered, pulling you close and kissing you lovingly. "My star," Seonghwa cupped your chin and your cheeks were likely as red as a strawberry at this point.

"If you keep going like that, I am not sure we will make it there because I might melt into a puddle," you joked and he laughed. "Fine, let's make sure we get to eat all of the free cake first."

Seonghwa gently took your hand, squeezing it as you made it to the car.

The café wasn't too far away, barely a twenty-minute drive and a very friendly-looking lady already expected you. The place was closed on Sundays but more so to invite in couples to try their cakes.

"You two are beautiful, I already can see it, an outdoor spring wedding with your loved ones," she clapped her hands together, quite excited. "Strawberries will be in season then, such a good choice. I have prepared six different cakes I believe would fit beautifully."

She rambled on while leading you to a small table with a lovely decoration. Seonghwa pulled the chair back for you to sit down at, you gave him a soft smile before he took the one next to you.

"So you said you are aiming for a more minimalistic but elegant cake?" she opened a file with the information you had to fill out online ahead of the appointment.

"Indeed," Seonghwa used what you liked to call 'his business voice' when he was not cute but looked like the hot guy everyone wanted at their office and he was more discussing business than wedding cakes.

"As you said, we have planned a Spring wedding, my family has this lovely traditional property," he continued and you were glad the woman served some coffee because it was hard to stay all serious. Seonghwa and you worked with a budget and his uncle's small Summer house had a lovely garden close to the river. It was far from modern but it seemed perfect for your own wishes and other locations were quite expensive.

"We have been together for quite some time and we care more for traditions and values rather than to leave a great impression on the media. This is why we have chosen your cafe. The cakes are lovely with such a unique design," he concluded and the woman was more than thrilled to hear this.

"Mister Park, count on us. If you decide on one of our cakes, you will receive the one of your dreams."

With that she pulled out photos, showing you different concepts from more detailed ones that had price tags you two automatically knew were out of the question to two that seemed promising.

"I really like this one. The details are lovely but not too ... sappy. Would it be possible to maybe have a few smaller bites like cupcakes to go with it or something similar? We could place the cake in the middle surrounded by them;" you asked although you regretted how you did not bother to look up names of those things, only focused on cake.

"We are quite keen on the strawberries," Seonghwa chuckled, squeezing your hand which he had been holding the entire time.

"Oh yes, absolutely! I will give our baker a small call, maybe she can send an example. Would you like to try the different variants meanwhile?"

Your fiancé's eyes sparkle: "Oh yes, of course. Please do take your time."

He kept it together until a platr was served with four different combinations of fillings for the cake as she excused herself. Seonghwa was eager to pick up a fork and carefully picked some of the first slice, offering it to you, a hand placed underneath to ensure it wouldn't slip off.

"You look an awful lot excited, Mister Park," you teased but leaned in, accepting it. He was pleased to see you obviously enjoying the taste, covering your mouth with a hand.

"Of course I do, I have the most lovely person next to me while picking the cake for our wedding," he hummed before also trying some of it, making a face. "This reminds me of the overpriced cake I had during my trip to Paris when I learned only later how I spent my entire budget of a day on a cake."

You chuckled, taking a spook to offer the second option to him: "Ah yes, that infamous trip with Hongjoong for your graduation. I am relieved you two made it back home, based on all that happened."

Seonghwa blushed a little but he leaned in, accepting the spoon. The moment you were about to lean back, he pulled you in and sealed your lips into a kiss.

You didn't even have time to gasp when you were kissing softly, tasting the remains of the strawberry cream on Seonghwa's lips. Your heart was beating loudly when your arm curled around his neck. Sometimes, it was still hard to believe you were about to marry this man. Now the times when you were reading college books while he was lying in bed next to you, snuggled onto your side while playing Animal Crossing felt like a lifetime ago.

You couldn't wait to see how it would change over the years, all the new memories. As his spouse.

"I love you, so much", he whispered and his big eyes looked at you full of love. You bit your lip: "I love you too, Hwa."

There was no more time when the woman returned with an iPad in her hand: "How about those? Very popular in France right now and they would go lovely with any cake."

Seonghwa quickly had another bite from the slice as you looked at it: "I love them, what do you think love?"

He was quick to nod: "Ah yes, I enjoy them as well. I believe, around thirty should do." It was the moment where the two of you hoped this wouldn't be too costly: "Of course. As we are unable to provide an example here, we would ensure to send you a photo together with the calculated costs and you can make your final decision then."

At this point, Seonghwa was casually eating the testing slices while you listened. You admired how he pulled it off without the woman even realizing he likely ate the entire thing, unlike most other couples who only cared to try them out.

You had picked up one of the fresh strawberries.

"With fresh ones from the season, it will be amazing." Seonghwa finally finished and licked his lips, leaning back, his long legs crossed: "Absolutely. We are quite content we would love to work with you. Would you be able to provide everything by the time of October?"

You sipped on your coffee, ignoring how Hwa had eaten three of the slices.

"Absolutely! Do you have a favorite for the filling?"

You two glanced at each other, somehow you forgot the most important part: Choosing one. Yet, it proved once more just how perfectly you matched: "The Second."

The woman seemed confused, blinking at the almost empty plate in front of her but she did not comment on it. A few more details were discussed before the two of you left half an hour later without paying a single thing.

"Your family's traditional property huh?" you laughed as held each other's hands, swinging your arms a little.

Seonghwa grinned: "Well, you always liked our short breaks there and my uncle now seems adamant to put effort into it after I told him we would love to use the large gardens for the wedding."

You were excited about it, no matter how modern the building would be. All you could think about was to make this man yours, officially and all for once. You never thought of yourself as somebody caring a whole lot about weddings but now, you looked forward to it.

Seonghwa stopped, embracing you as your foreheads leaned against each other.

"This is where I ask the question you will glare at me for," he begins.

"Oh?"

Seonghwa's little pout warned you that his question was about to be silly.

"So we did not talk about the wedding toppers..." Of course, oh you should have thought of it. You couldn't hold back the laugh: "Are you really asking me if we can put those little animal crossing figures on top of our cake?"

Your boyfriend grinned: "Well, they played a crucial part in our engagement."

"How could I forget about that?" you hummed. The two figures received a special place in your new living room. Ah, he was still so silly and you loved him for it.

"Well, guess we are going to save some money there but you will have to explain this excited lady how exactly they fit into our traditional family wedding."

The one you couldn't wait for.

#seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #seonghwa oneshot #ateez x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez au #ateez writing #park seonghwa x reader #sh tag #reis writes #fluff tag #seonghwa fluff #ateez fluff

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tossawary · 3 months

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I still think that the ending of "Avatar: The Last Airbender" was poorly foreshadowed, specifically the lion turtles and the energy-bending. (Not Aang not killing Ozai! I like that part! It suits the themes, it suits the characters! That part is fine. I am glad that the last airbender found a way forward that respected his people and beliefs.)

Like, I saw ATLA when it was originally airing and I thought these things kind of "came out of nowhere" at the time. I have heard the arguments to the contrary over the years and I have never really been persuaded by them, while at the same time personally agreeing that the lion turtles and the energy-bending absolutely do fit the world and lore! They are fitting elements! They work! I like this ending at the same time that, in my personal opinion, I think it was poorly established.

I think that the story BEGINS to establish lion turtles and energy-bending well enough. We meet both many other spirit beings and bending-capable animals earlier on, including the Moon and Ocean Spirits who apparently gave the world water-bending. S2 introduces Ty Lee's chi-blocking techniques and Guru Pathik teaching Aang about chakras. There are also a handful of lion turtle easter eggs in the background of some episodes, the most prominent perhaps being on a scroll in Wan Shi Tong's library.

But the story then jumps from these various establishing elements all the way to "lion turtles are real and not extinct and telepathic and can also energy-bend and Aang has suddenly mastered this new art well enough to take someone else's bending away permanently, and these relatively new elements are going to resolve the main conflict of the show". It feels like "1+1=3" to me. I think that last jump in the story is too big. Like, we're REALLY close, but I personally needed another 1 in there somewhere to bridge that final gap and get to that 3.

(Includes some fic ideas / suggestions on how to maybe add to strengthen the foreshadowing under the cut.)

The fact that a lot of people, especially more casual viewers, were really confused by the way all of these elements suddenly came together at the end says to me that, no, the foreshadowing that WAS done (there WAS foreshadowing, I cannot rightfully say that it all came completely out of "nowhere", but it) was not good enough. Or maybe I should compare it to someone presenting me with all of the necessary ingredients for a cake and then telling me that it IS cake? Yes, all of the right ingredients are HERE, I agree, this COULD be a really great cake, but... you still have to mix it all together in a bowl and then put it in the oven to bake to get that specific cake. It's not quite cooked yet.

(Okay, wow, that sounds kind of mean. Maybe I should compare it more to a missing stair? We have MOST of the staircase, I just need one last step to get to the Deus Ex Machina at the top. To be clear: I don't think a "Deus Ex Machina" is inherently bad. I often like them a lot. I just wanted a little more foreshadowing than the stuff that is already there.)

In storytelling, there's this technique casually called "The Rule of Three". (And yes, of course, rules were made to be bent or broken depending on what story you're trying to tell, but usually, these rules exist because they are effective.) This rule is also sometimes known as "Introduction, Pattern, and Payoff". (It has other names, but that's how I remember it.)

Very loosely, this rule states that an important element of the story must appear at least three times. 1. It must be introduced / established in the world. 2. It must appear again to remind the audience that it exists / and establish a pattern such that the audience begins to expect it to appear again later. (And is hopefully excited for it.) 3. Payoff. The element returns in an important way, probably to resolve part of the plot. The previous two appearances have acted as foreshadowing for this ending.

There's also a "Rule of Two" version of this general storytelling technique. Like, "If this special crystal can zap the bad guy and save the day, we have to have shown or at least told the audience that it can do that BEFORE the big final fight scene."

In regards to ATLA, no, I don't think that a scroll in a library or a statue in the background of some scene served as adequate introduction and reminder for the existence of lion turtles, so it didn't necessarily feel like a payoff for me that they solved the main conflict. (It's the "solved the main conflict" that's most of the issue for me. If the lion turtles had just appeared in another episode as a random cool thing like those sea monsters by Kyoshi Island, I would not have cared.)

I actually think that the establishment of other spirits like the Moon Spirit and bending-capable animals like sky bison and dragons can serve as a decent enough "Step 1) Introduction". Though this does not establish that lion turtles specifically exist, we have established that powerful creatures similar to lion turtles exist. But I still needed a solid "Step 2) Pattern / Reminder" that would have established that lion turtles specifically exist and are important BEFORE one shows up at the end like that.

I think that there's at least one episode somewhere in Book 1 or Book 2 that could have been cut in favor of an episode where the Gaang meets and rescues a young lion turtle baby or something.

Maybe Guru Pathik could have learned his ways FROM a lion turtle? Aang could have gone to an isolated village somewhere (with more brown people besides just Guru Pathik?) where people are living in harmony with a lion turtle, or maybe even on the back of a lion turtle! That would be cool!

Concept: Aang encounters Guru Pathik living alone on the back of a lion turtle which doesn't talk to people anymore (Aang swims down to look at its face and it doesn't even look at him), because its kind have been hunted nearly to extinction and it's tired of violence. Guru Pathik learned his ways from his old teacher, who learned from his old teacher, all the way up the teaching lineage from a person who once learned from the lion turtle itself before it gave up on the world. Guru Pathik tends to this nearly empty temple on the back of a silent lion turtle who ignores him, because he will not forsake his teachings even when the world seems uninterested in hearing them and the old lion turtle seems like it could die any day now. The people in the fishing village on the shore think that Guru Pathik is crazy and most of them don't even believe that the floating island really is a lion turtle, it's just weird geography.

Guru Pathik could also have chi-blocking abilities! We could see him demonstrate them in self-defense! He could teach a few chi-blocking moves to Aang, who could later go on to use them occasionally in Book 3, and it would have been really cool to see Aang exploring non-bending skills. We don't need Guru Pathik to explicitly name energy-bending here, but I would like to connect him just a touch more strongly to chi-blocking. Like, he IS connected already by helping Aang clear chakras, which is kind of like a reverse of chi-blocking, but it would be nice to establish Guru Pathik as somewhat capable of the opposite but perhaps not liking to use the skill.

Aang really vibes with this dying culture of pacifists, but he still has to leave Guru Pathik before he can finish the training. Later on, he can encounter Guru Pathik and the silent lion turtle again, and he can confess to them how desperately he doesn't want to have to kill anyone, no matter what his past lives say. He just wants to STOP the violence and restore balance to the world without sacrificing himself. And THEN the lion turtle could wake up and gift him with energy-bending.

Or something like that! The foreshadowing doesn't have to be THAT heavy-handed, but SOME brief appearance by an actual lion turtle would have served as a better "Step 2) Pattern" to me.

Things like chi-blocking, chakras, water-bending healing, water-benders losing their bending when the Moon Spirit was killed, and even Zuko's spiritual turmoil serve as a good "Step 1) Introduction" to the concept of energy-bending to me. The ingredients are THERE. But again, I would have liked some clearer "Step 2) Pattern" that had actually baked the cake in regards to this being a skill Aang had specifically.

The above episode concept with Guru Pathik on the back of a lion turtle could have worked as a "Step 2) Pattern / Reminder" for energy-bending.

ANOTHER option would be to have Aang temporarily lose his bending at the beginning of Book 3, after Katara resurrects him with that special spirit water after Azula killed him at the end of Book 2.

I think Aang losing his bending for at least 3-4 episodes would have been really good for him / the show. So much of Aang's identity is tied up at this point in being the Avatar and the responsibilities of being the Avatar. Losing his bending, especially his AIR-BENDING, and his connection to the spirit world and his past lives would send him into a personal crisis. The Gaang could worry over whether or not a new Avatar has somehow been born or if the Avatar powers are gone forever. The characters could confront the fact that perhaps they've been relying too much on Aang as the Avatar and what they'll do now without the Avatar.

Also, it would be really funny if Aang woke up and picked up his glider to jump off that boat, then just fell into the ocean, and Katara needed to fish him out. (Which would then transition into the dramatic revelation that he has lost his bending!!!)

Katara could use her healing abilities to tell Aang that what's happened to him feels a lot like Ty Lee's chi-blocking. Katara would then probably try to emphasize with Aang, who gets angry with her and says she has no idea what this feels like! Katara could then have a really good intimate scene with Aang over how scary it was when the Moon Spirit was killed, what it physically felt like to lose that spiritual connection, and how scared she was even afterwards about what it would have been like to permanently lose that connection to her people and her culture. Aang then apologizes to Katara and they resolve to find his bending again.

Aang then goes on some spiritual journey with his friends to reconnect with his bending and his past lives as the Avatar. Probably some partially internal spiritual journey with Guru Pathik's teachings. Katara and Toph could both talk about what bending means to them personally as different people, and also what it feels like to them as they interact with the elements of the world around them.

Aang could have some cool fight scenes where he dodges some random thugs using all of his bending skills (martial arts) without the actual bending, air-bending techniques, water-bending techniques, and earth-bending techniques, and then finally some chi-blocking techniques that Guru Pathik showed him. There could be some scene where Aang saves a kid from these random thugs and realizes that he can still do good in the world even if he's not the Avatar! Even if he's not a bender anymore!

There could also be some REALLY funny scenes of Aang trying to get Appa and Momo to teach him how to reconnect with his air-bending. Aang mimicking their movements and so on. (Sokka: "Is that... working so far, buddy?" Aang: "NO! They're terrible teachers!!!" Cue sad Appa bleating and offended Momo chittering.)

You could even do it in a cycle of sorts, where Aang reconnects with his air-bending first using Guru Pathik's teachings and his friends' help. (He is OVERJOYED.) And then Aang slowly regains water-bending and earth-bending over the next few episodes, culminating in him having to face his fears learning fire-bending again. I think you could accomplish this storyline by squeezing it into about 3-4 episodes, or else starting off with losing then regaining air-bending plus the Avatar state in the first 2 episodes of the season and then threading relearning the other elements in the background through later episodes.

ANOTHER option where Aang temporarily loses his bending is after the eclipse, because he has a spiritual crisis over the fact that he was resolved to kill someone and he really doesn't want to do that. I don't like this option so much because it feels a little too late in the season compared to kicking off Book 3 with the drama of Aang losing his bending(!!!), but it's an option.

See, if Aang temporarily loses his bending and has to find it again somehow, then the show could establish what this kind "energy-bending" and spiritual manipulation within a person looks like. If Aang has had to get his bending BACK, then it would better establish Aang then using this ability he has now practiced on himself to take bending away from another person. It's a pleasantly surprising twist that Aang figures out how to reverse a previously established energy-bending technique and successfully uses it against Ozai.

And then the ending, though arguably still in the realm of a Deus Ex Machina (which is cool), would feel more like "Step 3) Payoff" instead of "What just happened?" We needed to see more obviously that Aang was capable of ANY kind of energy-bending before it saved the day like that.

Anyway! This post became way longer than originally intended! I hope this has made it clear that I like both the lion turtles and energy-bending as concepts. I think there are many elements in the show that begin to introduce lion turtles and energy-bending as Aang uses it as things that COULD exist. I just think that the show needed some kind of additional baking step in the middle to establish a pattern and use those ingredients to foreshadow that specific "an ancient lion turtle teaches Aang energy-bending and Aang then uses it against someone else" ending.

#tossawary atla #fic ideas #long post #aang #guru pathik #lion turtles #spoilers

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terras-domain · 1 year

Text

Forever More (Ahn Yujin x Male Reader)

Reader’s POV

Another stressful day at work. Fuck my body is aching so bad lately. Good thing weekends are near, now just need to kick back and relax at home. “Honey, I hoooome~” I called, waiting for a respond to come back at me. Instead of a shout back at me, I saw an angel’s face beaming at me, an innocent smile reflecting in my pupils. “Baby?” she said, giddily walking towards me and giving a sniff on my body. “IT IS YOUUUUUU” she shouts out her happiness, hugging me tight I couldn’t breathe for a moment. It’s always been something that we do together whenever, whether it’s the first thing in the morning, or I just got home from work. The love of my life, Yujin will always be there for me and giving the brightest of smiles takes the pain away. We’ve been dating for three years and even though we decided not to get married, I’m still the happiest man in the world and content with her.

“What you up to baby?” I asked, it’s not usual to see Yujin working in the kitchen, not to mention doing it alone. “Awwww c’mon babe, you think I’d forget, did you?” she raised an eyebrow, making a smug face as she sighed. “It’s our third anniversary silly!” With a face that screams “TA-DA” she presented the dining table looking well made, a small flowerpot with indigo-coloured lilies in it with an artificial candle to set the mood. “So, what do you think?” her hands behind her back and tilting her head with the cutest smile one could ever imagine. All I could do was smile and cup her cheeks with my hands, giving her a peck of kiss on her lips. “I love it, my little babyboo.” I smiled back at her, enjoying the moment as we shared a quick romantic moment before a sudden unpleasant smell reeked in the kitchen. “OH FUCK, THE PASTA!!” It felt as if the part where we should be kissing deeply into each other’s mouth suddenly went to a halt, and the overcooked pasta had to ruin the scene.

“Nauurrrr. It’s ruined.” A clear display of disappointment is shown in her pouting face as she looked down at the mushed-up pasta noodles go down the drain, as well as the pot since the stove absolutely baked and burnt the pot as well, leaving us with a spaghetti sauce with no spaghetti to eat with. “I am so sorry baby….I don’t know what to say” crystals starts to form underneath her round puppy like eyes, pouring down as the self-guilt hit her hard. I couldn’t bare watching it and just wiped the tears of her face, gently caressing her face. “Aww don’t say that baby. It’s far from over. We can always improvise, right?” with a gentle smile to convince her, I gave her a big hug as an of comfort. Yujin has always been a sensitive person ever since we dated so it’s not something odd for me to comfort her. “C’mon, I’m sure we have some instant noodles in the shelf. Let’s use it as our noodles, what do you say, Ms. Chef?” I reached into the shelf and grabbed a pack of instant noodles and tossed it to her, seeing a brighter reaction than she was a few minutes ago after the sad story of the fallen noodles. Since our pot is also burnt, we decided to prepare our ‘pasta’ with hot water, doing it the plebian student-ish way despite being grown adults.

It didn’t take long before our dinner could get started (it really wasn’t, instant noodles literally only take 2 minutes to make). With whatever we had on we sat at the dining table and had a good meal together where we laughed at the incident and had a nice evening to loosen up. It’s great to see Yujin back to her angelic smile again, it’s way better than seeing her all sad and depressed. “Thanks for the quick improvision bae. If you didn’t help in just now, I’d be by the trash can crying right now.” She sighed and took a sip of water from her glass, clearing her throat from the rather dry meal, possibly because the sauce was dry. I could feel the food lacking a lot of things, but who am I to complain, it was made by my only Yujin, and what matters is she made it with all her love. No matter how dried and unseasoned it is I’d still finish it all like a man who hasn’t eaten for weeks. “Umm baby”, Yujin paused me with a soft calling. “Mhm?” I gave a short reply, my mouth filled with the instant noodles topped with Yujin’s dry spaghetti sauce. Yujin could only give out a soft giggle, but it didn’t take long for that to build up until she chuckled and laughed out loud, looking at my face. “What’s wrong?” I asked, which Yujin immediately responded. “You look so adorable what the fuck hahahaha!” she shook her head and reached out to me, grabbing a cloth to wipe a stain of tomato sauce off my face. “Slow down dumbass, food’s not going anywhere.” She shook her head, smirking as a reaction to my attitude.

As time passes by, we exchanged laughter and conversation kept going and going till one point we just thought it was time to hit to the bed – the best part of having a significant other. As we both laid in bed, I just had to lay on top of Yujin’s soft tummy, feeling her breath moving her body up and down, the warmth forever soothing me. Yujin made a sincere smile while looking down at me, caressing my hair. “It was a tiring day, wasn’t it?” Yujin broke the silence, asking as she hummed a little song as she kept playing around with my scalp, scratching it gently and swirling my hair. I couldn’t say a word, all it there was, was a little nod followed by a little sobbing, tears running down my eyes and flows onto hers. “I just don’t know. I appreciate you so much Yujin. I can’t say that life isn’t as tough as it is.” I sobbed, hugging her tight and before we know it, it was a tight cuddling, each of us holding each other tightly, embracing ourselves in a vulnerable state. “I understand baby, it’s a tough life. And I appreciate you for being strong for me, for us. I’m proud at what you’ve grown into after all this time.” Yujin embraced me, holding my face as I watch those eyes beaming at me as if it’s a ray of hope, her soft fingers wiping my tears off before she gives a soft kiss on the forehead. It felt magical, almost as if a burden was lifted off my body and I felt lighter. Yujin’s soft lips didn’t stop there. Her lips travelled and pecked all over my face, kissing me gently. And whilst that the same three words repeated again and again, almost like it was singed into my ears and stored into my brain. “I love you.” Was all I heard every time her lips crashed landed on my face until they touch my lips. Yujin took her time there, taking as long as she wants to kiss me, and eventually the innocent healing kiss turned sensual, and a touch of romantic lust injected into our bodies.

Our little make out led one thing to another, and it ends up with me sliding my hands underneath her shirt, grabbing Yujin’s perky breasts as our mouth were practically glued to each other, making out as much as we could. Yujin’s soft moans radiate inside my mouth as we threw each piece of garments the floor, leaving us without a string to cover us up. “Take me babe” Yujin urged me as she pulled me back in to get a good kiss into my mouth. I replied to her kiss as I pinned her on the bed, letting my tongue invade her mouth to play inside her mouth before pulling out. We both breathed heavily, as if we just ran a marathon. But I didn’t care, my face traced down her gorgeous body, before my lips reached her golden triangle. I gave took my time smooching around the area, teasing her as I looked up, her red face flustered from my actions just motivates me more as I kissed and suckled gently on her inner thighs, making Yujin let out a soft moan. “Fuck…. baby please…. don’t just tease me. Please me baby” she pleaded, her adorable puppy eyes begging to be treated right as my lover. I shrugged with a sinful smile as I stood up and aligned my erection to her entrance, my face directly on top of hers. “Ready?” I signalled her, not even letting her grasp a second t reply before my cock penetrates inside her, gaping her walls inch by inch slowly, making Yujin let out a whimper to show her satisfaction. I gave her time to adjust to my size, using the time to return the kiss on the forehead she gave early before my body did its work, moving back and forth inside her.

Yujin’s moans were ecstasy to me. The more her sounds coming out of her pretty mouth, the faster I got. It got to a point I just couldn’t help myself and start to plow her insides, holding her legs up to reach deeper inside her. “Aaah nghhh oh God Yujin you’re as tight as ever fuuuck” I grunted, feeling my cock hitting her cervix as kept my pace fast but still sensual for Yujin to enjoy it. “Ohhh fuck yes baby just like that. Give me all of you please” she moaned as her arms wrapped onto my back, encouraging me to go harder and faster for her. The room that was quiet a moment ago is now filled with moans, whimpers and other lustful noises one could think of. Yujin’s arms on my back abled me to lift her up and make her sit on my cock, letting her do her part of and work for our growing lust. I brushed her hair away from that pretty face to kiss her whilst she rides on me, grinding her body on mine while my cock enjoys the depth and warmth of Yujin’s pussy. The heat in the room just overwhelms each other as we crave to satisfy one another, Yujin grinding on my cock and me thrusting it deeper inside. “God fuuck I love you so much Yujin” I groaned as my cocks harden inside her, making me much more sensitive as Yujin gets tighter, sucking in my member like its refusing to let go. I could barely move or thrust from how tight it is and could just moan from the pleasure Yujin is giving me by grinding on me while bouncing a bit on top of me. Yujin’s scrumptious ass was too good not to touch as I caress them gently, feeling them while Yujin rides me, enjoying each other’s presence as our eyes’ stares into each other, the lust from our moans and the heat of the moment, everything was on point and was just perfect. Yujin pushed me to lay down so she can fully take charge, leaning towards my chest to kiss and suck on my nipples before she starts riding again, this time faster and rougher to the point I was moaning loudly and could barely hold my load any longer. “B-baby, I need to cum….” I grunted and whimpered, trying so hard not to cum too soon without Yujin’s consent, which in the end she allowed me to by saying, “Then cum for me baby. Give me every ounce of you inside me.” Those words whispered into my ears were like a catalyst to erupt a volcano, making me shoot ropes after ropes of cum inside her. “Nghhhh aaah. Fuuuuck I’m cummiiiing.” I grunted, unloading everything my balls could store into her tight pink pussy and filled her up. Yujin moaned and came together with me, feeling her pussy getting filled up and draining her energy. Didn’t take long before she fell onto me, exhausted and nearly lost consciousness from such an amazing anniversary celebration. I couldn’t help but smile and kissed on her scalp, softly speaking into her ears. “I love you Ahn Yujin, to the moon and back”. Even though I couldn’t see her face that’s is planted on my chest, I just know she was smiling before she responded.

“I love you, forever more”

#kpop smut

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acesofspadess · 1 year

Text

Avocados...

a/n: its the big three...

summary: Louis ends up talking about his relationship with you and avocados

The news had been out for a few months now that you, Louis, Niall and Harry were in a committed relationship. And while it wasn't exactly news to your fans who had predicted it since you had all met during the One Direction days, people had opinions they felt had to be heard. You four already kept your personal lives to yourselves, but the occasional ‘my girlfriend’ or ‘my boyfriend’ would present itself in interviews or shows.

Louis was at LADbible for a day of interviews and was currently doing a snack war.

“You know i feel really bad for saying this because i actually really fucking hate baked beans.” He looked up at the crew in front of him, seeing their faces. “I must be one of the only men in England- or only person in England that hates baked beans, yeah.” He brought the plate to his side listening to Becky, a crew member, try and give him the easiest way to eat it.

“Go on, let me.” he flipped his eyesight to the other bowl. “And what have we got here? What's this?” he put down the fork before switching back to the beans. “I'll come to this in a sec shall? Right. Oh, i fucking hate beans, do you know what? For you lot, though, I will give it a go. Oh, H will never let me live this down.” He sprinkled some cheese on top, completely missing his mention of one of his significant others. “It must be fifteen years since I've had some beans.”

He listened to Becky explain what was in the bowls, apologizing for not explaining himself. “I don't know, they're just weird.” was his response to why he didn't like it. He took the smallest bite he could and chewed with a pained expression. “Oh, fucking awful, man. Oh that's gross, man.” he shook his head hoping that would diminish the taste from his mouth.

“Right, mac and cheese, fucking staple.” he moved onto the bowl of pasta after taking a drink to rid the taste of beans from his mouth. “Again ‘american’ right? Cause it looks Italian to me.” he took a hefty bite and relaxed in his chair. “Banging though. I had a lot of mac and cheese, or a lot of cheesy pasta, growing up as a kid. To be fair, for my little lad Freddie, my girlfriend - who is half Italian, makes him a lot of cheesy pasta, so… I'd have to go with that.”

“Is there anything else she makes for him? Or is that like the staple?” Becky asked out of pure curiosity.

“My fans are gonna hate me for this, she makes a lot of food from her Trinidad side and one thing we always have in the house is avocados, Freddie loves it when she makes them. She makes those and - i know it's not the right wording but like candied bananas. Those are really good. Actually-”

He took out his phone from his pocket and tapped a few buttons before the facetime ringing was heard. “I really hope she answers otherwise that would be-” he cocked his head with a laugh and watched as the call connected, your beautiful face popping up on the screen.

“Hey love.” a smile so big was plastered on his face as he saw you. “Hey Lou. I thought you were filming still?” your washed Trini accent was heard through the phone, confusion laced within. “I am,” he walked in a circle to show you and laughed. “I don't think you should be on your phone in the middle of an interview, Lou.”

“No I'm not. I wanted to ask you a question though.” The phone was now visible for the cameras to see and they could see you cock your head with questions. “Alright then.”

“When you make avocados for us you make like this candied banana but i forgot what they're called and i don't want to keep saying ‘candy bananas’ like a wanker.”

Your laugh as well as others was heard and he just shook his head at you. “Its fried plantains Lou. and you can have them sweet or salty. Just like avos.” he was mesmerized with the way you spoke about things from your culture, “Thank you love.”

“Was that it?” you asked, adjusting your sunglasses as you walked out of the shade. “What are you doing and who are you with?” he asked, remembering the second laugh he heard. “I'm with Ni right now. We just went out to this little cafe before going back to the studio where H and Freddie are.” you showed him Niall who made a silly face at lou. “Alright love, I will call you when I'm done. Love you both.”

Niall who was no longer in frame was heard shouting an ‘ i love you’ back and you giggled. “I love you Lou.”

“Give my love to H and Freddie will you?”

“Of course Lou.”

“Alright , alright, I'll see you later.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

And as he went to hang up Niall's second ‘love you’ was briefly heard. “Right, fried plantains and ‘avos’ as my girlfriend says. The only way I eat them. Fucking avocados man.”

#louis tomlinson #niall horan #harry styles #tomlinsonedits #louis update #lthq #holding on to heartache #fitfwt #all this time #shirtless louis #niall james horan #nialler #cute niall #niall horan x reader #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfiction #narry storan #larry stylinson #nouis horanson

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twilidragonrin · 2 months

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Hey, quick question, is another piece for Underneath the Howling Moon in the works like a stand alone or a new chapter for In the Clutches of the Wolf's Jaws ? I read all of it again and resurrected my brainrot.

If not would you have some small facts and headcanons to give ?

Have a nice day

Oh you better believe there is another story in the works for Underneath the Howling Moon. And I am also working on another chapter for Clutches of the Wolf's Jaws, it's just a little slower because a lot of my brain rot has mostly been the little stories that took place before the current events of Clutches. But I do have some facts and headcanons to give out!

Bela is two years older than Cassandra, and Cassandra is a year older than Daniela. Making Bela and Daniela three years apart.

When the sisters transform into wolves, their clothes are left behind. Many clothing have been lost due to Cass and Dani transforming in the middle of nowhere in their estate.

Alcina has specific nicknames for her girls based on their traits as wolves. Bela: "My little shepherd." Cassandra: "My little bloodhound." Daniela: "My little pup."

The girls have middle names in this series! If Alcina calls out their full name then they know they're in deep trouble. Bela Josephine Dimitrescu Cassandra Milicent Dimitrescu Daniela Fiora Dimitrescu

Daniela was very sick when she was younger. I never went into details in the fic but she actually had aplastic anemia. Bela was a perfect donor for a bone marrow transplant that Daniela needed.

So in the current time of Clutches, the girls don't have jobs. The most is them working around the estate, Bela helping Alcina with paperwork, Cassandra in charge of the staff, and Daniela helping however she can.

Aside from Bela, none of the girls are trusted to get jobs outside of Alcina's business because they might end up revealing themselves. And Bela just prefers to work for her mother.

Hobbies!

Bela: Reading, considering she loves to learn. Not much romance like Daniela though she does have some soft spots for certain romance. Botany, absolutely considering I think she would love to cook and bake. Grows her own fruits, vegetables and so on. Definitely works for Alcina from time to time. Other hobbies would include playing the piano, and painting.

Cassandra: Loves to restore antiques. She likes to work with her hands. Probably is the family's own handywoman, happily getting dirty and fixing stuff. Absolutely loves to play the guitar too. Other hobbies would include some sports like hockey, and surprisingly dancing.

Daniela: Reading romance even though she loves to do physical activities with her boundless energy. Wouldn't be surprised if she does sports but she couldn't really settle on one thing. If she was asked what her favorite is, she would pick basketball. Other hobbies would include sculpting, and surprisingly sewing.

Clothing! This is something I'm taking from my friend who suggested what the girls should wear. I'm not normally keen on writing clothing so this should help gauge what everyone wears.

Bela: A casual chic/business casual style. As she’s the oldest who takes the most after Alcina and helps on the business end, it fits that she wants to make herself look presentable but approachable.

Cassandra: She wears a more casual/artsy style. As she’s the most physical out of the sisters she needs clothes that she doesn’t mind getting dirty and help her move around easier. But she still likes to look good so she mixes it up with fun and chic styles. Think like cute overalls and tank tops. But also some jackets too.

Daniela: The youngest and most energetic of the sisters, I could see her leaning more into the tomboy/sporty style. She’s a free spirit and the least likely to care too much about looking prim and proper. Plus, she’s running around all the time, it helps to have something more loose and easy to tear off when she transforms.

Alcina definitely punishes the girls differently whenever they're in trouble. Growing up, it was such a struggle because Cassandra would always talk back whenever she would lecture her. But Bela would become a sobbing and anxious mess if she were to talk to her the same way. It absolutely caused rifts between Cass and Bela in their teenage years. It's what led to Faults of a Mother.

That's it for now! I'll be thinking of more facts and headcanons, especially about Donna and Angie! Thank you so much for reading, it really makes my day to know there are some people who have massive brainrot for my silly yet heartfelt werewolf series!

#asks #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #re8 #headcanons #ao3 fanfic #Underneath the Howling Moon

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androgynousblackbox · 4 months

Text

How I Met Your Father. 11 [Appleradio, Radioapple]

AO3 link

How We Got Separated

"Where are you going?" Emily asked, floating behind him.

Alastor did not answer. He kept making his way to the main doors that thankfully were easy to find. The door that he came out from was one of many in an ample circle full of other ones, but he could not care less to find out what was behind them. There were no other angels or winged creatures present. Only Emily that seemed to be more curious to know what he was planning than to stop him.

When Alastor opened up the crystal doors, he had to squint his eyes again. Why did everything in this place had to be so bright? How did anyone could see anything like that? As soon his vision adjusted, his stomach dropped through the floor back to home.

The sky was a clear perfect blue, decorated with fluffy white clouds. All the street were spotless shinny gold reflecting that could reflect anything like a mirror. Not a single trace of vomit, trash or blood as far the eyes could see. Nobody was fighting or yelling. Every creature that was passing by had their own set of wings and halo.

The air he was breathing in was too pure. It smelled vaguely pleasant, like someone was baking cookies everywhere at the same time. So perfectly organized, so immaculate that surely not even a pin would be out of place without getting fixed.

Alastor felt his own soul snearing. How could anything be so vile? How did anyone could live like this and not want to blow their head off to scape it? Where was the chaos? Where was the violence and grossness of the human condition? Where was the power struggle and the heart wrenching failure? Where was the fear that pumped the heart? Why nobody was screaming!?

What kind of monster could set up such a setting for eternity?

Controlling his own nausea, Alastor forced himself to move. He had already seen where he wanted to go. Emily noticed the direction of his eyes and perked up.

"Oh, do you want to see Saint Peter?" asked.

"Yes" said without looking at her.

The creatures that were on his way all moved to let him pass. They weren't doing it out of fear for knowing his reputation. They were just being polite. Some even said "excuse me" as if somehow it was their mistake that Alastor wasn't paying any attention to them.

Hell.

This place had to be the real hell after all. It made sense. He had too much fun back at home and now finally was receiving the punishment he deserved. His own personal hell. And he was called cruel? Oh, whatever he ever did, alive or dead, was child's play compared with the sadistic mind that would make such a horror as this one.

Alastor speed up.

"I can take you with him directly if you want" offered Emily, keeping up easily with him.

"No, thank you" said Alastor, clenching his jaw. "I missed the part where you explain why you are following me."

"Well, you seem… a little upset. And it's my job to spread joy to everyone so, I should probably do something with that. If there is any way in which I help you out to adapt better to Heaven, please let me know."

"Joy?" Alastor laughed, like that was a foreign idea. In this place at least it was and certainly more with this creature that was annoyingly remind him to Charlie. Good grief, that would be just the best way to torture him. To twist the knife on his gut real good. "Are you part of my punishment too?"

"What?" When Alastor didn't clarified any further, she continued, concern layering her voice. "I am… Are you okay? Maybe the travel was too abrupt and left you confused? I assure you, nobody is here to punish you. The punishment is over actually! You don't have to worry about anything anymore."

Alastor stopped on his tracks and turned to her.

"I assure you, my dear. I am very well aware and conscious of my surroundings" said, his smile feeling tense as his eye twitched. "That is not the issue I am facing. If you care about my wellbeing, you can rest easy now and come back to your heavinly duties. I don't need a babysitter."

Emily pouted at that. Clearly, she wasn't used to people rejecting her help. He started walking again and she didn't stay behind.

"I am not trying to babysit you!" she protested, floating at his side. "You are obviously going through something right now and a friendly hand goes a long way! If you let me help you, I am sure you will feel better."

Alastor looked around them, almost expecting mocking faces or people to look weirded out at anyone trying to be caring out of in the open. But everyone just kept walking, trusting that whatever was happening this Emily would know how to handle it already. That also meant that nobody was going to do anything to take this angel off his back if she decided to stick around.

He mentally groaned. Maybe if he played along for a bit she would be convinced to leave him alone.

"I changed my mind. Take me to Saint Peter" said and after a beat, added. "Please."

Emily arched an eyebrow, but she still smiled with a nod.

"Of course. I understand that for new souls it's always difficult to adapt to their wings. Later I can teach you how to handle yours! Lift your arms."

"My what" Alastor lifted his arms, trying to look at his back when suddenly Emily took him by the hands, elevating him on the air.

The travel up to the gold gates he had seen at a distance lasted only a few minutes. Emily let him land softly on the ground and floated to knock on the gate.

"Peter, can you come in for a moment? A new soul that just arrived wants to speak to you."

"Sure!" A perky voice answered on the other side and the gates opened. Alastor saw another road of gold up ahead that got lost in more clouds, no clear beggining or end. If he managed to jump from it, would he be able to get home or would just be a splatter on Earth, only to be brought back again? "What I can help you with?"

Alastor looked up to the saint and something inside recoiled at his too big openly friendly smile, full of good disposition to spare laid out in the open. Was this man ever really a human? Where was his nose? What did Heaven had against noses?

"I wanted to ask if you can see my name" said Alastor, after swallowing. "I believe there must have been a mistake. I shouldn't be here."

"Well, my friend, if you are here it must be because you are supposed to be here! Although it is weird that you didn't appear here directly. I am supposed to be the one to greet the new ones, not you, Emily" commented Saint Peter with a slight frown.

"That is because he is a reformed soul!" intervened Emily enthusiastically. "He appeared right in front of me and Sera at the very center of everything! That must be why he had a different way of entrance."

"Oh, seriously? Reformed from where?" Saint Peter looked at him with a new look of curiosity and Alastor showed his teeth on a too wide smile too, more than willing to bite if he put his hand on him. Saint Peter made a oh sound when understading reached him. "From downstairs. Right. Yeah, I can see that now. He is still a bit… rough around the edges, huh?"

"I am sure a period of adjustment is to be expected" said Emily, conciliatory.

"I will say. But anyway!" Saint Peter shrugged, elevating himself on the air to reach his book. With a flick of his wrist the thick volume floated in front of him, the pages moving from front to back. "I can take a look if that makes you feel any better. Your name, please?"

"Alastor… " Alastor looked down at his hand to see that his wedding ring was gone.

He was expecting something like that, it was only logical, but actually seeing it was still a new kick to the face. To make it even worse, his hands were so different now. The skin of his hands was desaturated brown instead of pure black and the tips of his fingers had lost their intense red color, turning into a muted pink. If Charlie was there, people wouldn't connect them directly as father and daughter even if they did paid attention.

"Alastor… what?" asked Saint Peter.

Alastor frowned. Did that last name even applied to him anymore? They had taken his colors, his family, why not his last name too?

"Try Morningstar" suggested anyway, without noticing the way that Emily's eyes light up. "If that doesn't appear, Abaddon."

"Morningstar?!" repeated Emily, looking him down and up. She gasped, holding her own cheeks. "Are you the father of Charlie Morningstar by any chance? I did heard that one of her parents was a sinner! I knooow…" The eyes of Emily darted for a second to Saint Peter, concentrated on looking in his book. "I mean, I didn't know that you were him! What a coincidence that you would be the first success of her hotel!"

The way she laughed, keeping tabs on Saint Peter, concentrated on his book, made Alastor suddenly a bit more interested on her. He decided to save that as a mental note for later.

"I am" said, relaxing a bit more around her.

Charlie did mentioned a seraphim that was willing to listen and believed on her ideals just as much as she did. This one had to be it. Emily smiled again, taking his hand to pat it gently. Alastor allowed her to.

"She would be so proud of seeing you right now."

He just let the silence fill the space until Saint Peter spoke up again.

"You are here" said, floating close to Alastor. He turned the book around so Alastor could see his name, at the very bottom, written with the same golden ink as any other. "Right there, see? Alastor Morningstar."

A small comfort, but a comfort all the same. Alastor clinged to that feeling as strong as he could. That is right, that was him. He was part of the Morningstar family, ring or not.

"I suppose you don't actually know why, though" said, knowing already that it was useless and useless it was when Saint Peter shrugged.

"Sorry, not my job" said, returning the book to its place. "Is there anything else I can do?"

Alastor looked at the saint and then at the gates.

"Oh no! What is that horrible thing over there?" Alastor pointed at something on the side.

When both angel and saint turned their heads, he made his way to the open gates. The stupidest and oldest tricks on the book sometimes could still work. But even though he was sure that his feet landed on the other side, he felt a pressure around him as if moving through a wave and suddenly found himself in the exact same place where he started.

"What are you doing?" asked Saint Peter, honestly confused.

Alastor grunted and ran again. For a second he thought this was working, only to be pushed back.

"Is… is he trying to leave?" Saint Peter looked to Emily to confirm that his eyes weren't deceiving him. Nobody had ever tried to leave.

"Mmm" Emily frowned with concern when Alastor raced a long way back and then throw himself to the open gates, with the expected result of landing on the floor over his side. He couldn't get hurt, but still it wasn't something she liked to see. "Alastor, I don't think that is going to work."

Alastor glared at her. The sudden rage behind his eyes took her aback, but did not scared her and that was even worse for his mood. She had no reason to fear him. Here they were on her home. She had the power and ranking over him, which meant he was at her mercy.

Emily offered him her hand to help stand up and Alastor took it. But instead of lifting himself up, he pulled the angel closer and spoke to her on a low, controlled, voice, just for her ears.

"Get me out of here or I will tell everyone you helped out the king of hell to have an unofficial meeting with a winner. Let's see what the rest of heaven thinks of a seraphim that is supposed to spread joy breaking the rules."

"Everything okay?" asked Saint Peter.

"Yes!" said Emily, quickly, turning around to him. Alastor was relieved to see that he had hit the nail on the head. He wasn't entirely sure she was the same seraphim when he said that. "Everything is perfect! Alastor was just… playing a little prank, right? Right, Alastor? A little joke for Peter?"

That was more like it.

"Yes, a prank" said, returning to his normal charming smile. "A winner trying to escape heaven after finally managing to get out of hell! Tell me if that is not the hilarious thing you have ever heard."

"Ooh, I get it now!" Saint Peter laughed, so hard that his eyes started to tear up. "That is hilarious! You would have to be an idiot to do a thing like that!" He calmed down finally, smiling to Emily. "Heaven could always do with another kidder, right? Makes things more interesting."

"Absolutely, yes" Emily bite her lip. "But, uh, I have to give Alastor the tour now. You know the drill! I will let you get back to work."

"Don't worry, it was a slow day anyway so I needed the distraction" Saint Peter chuckled as he patted the back of Alastor, completely missing the look full of murderous intent that he got as a response as he flew to the other side of the entrance no issue. "Welcome to heaven, Alastor. Feel free to come by anytime!"

"Thanks for your help!" said Emily, waving at the man until the gates were closed. Once she was sure they weren't moving anymore and therefore Saint Peter couldn't hear them, she turned to Alastor with tense fists at her side. "You know, when someone does a favor for you, most people would be grateful instead of holding it over their heads by blackmailing them!"

"I was grateful" said Alastor calmly", right until I got stuck here against my will. I was perfectly content back in hell."

Emily's eyes widened at that.

"Wait, really? I thought the hotel was for redemption. Isn't end up here supposed to be the goal?"

"Mine wasn't. I was only there to support Charlie" Alastor sighed, rubbing his temple. This is what it got him try to be a good father. "I had a daughter, a husband and a life I had built for myself after years of hardwork. Why, and pardon my french, the hell would I want to give up any of that to be here?"

"Oh" Emily looked down, twisting her hands together. "I-I am sorry, I didn't know. I thought this was what you were looking for. If you didn't, then of course you would be upset to being send to an entirely different realm."

Alastor let his shoulder fall. Truly, she wasn't more to blame for his situation than anything else was. At least she was able to actually listen instead of insisting how lucky he should feel for being there.

"I have to get back. My family needs me" Emily nodded, but her eyes still had doubt on them. Alastor crossed his arms. "Surely there must be a precedent to a soul being send back to hell. If my husband managed to get kicked out from here, there is no reason why I shouldn't."

"Your… Oh, right, Lucifer. I don't know, Alastor. Angels and human souls are not really treated the same. I think maybe the rules are a bit more strict for us. Heaven is supposed to be for humans after all."

Alastor thought of Adam. That crude, violent man who took genuine joy of slaughtering people. Besides that last detail, with no redeeming qualities that he could imagine. A human soul given too much power that reveled on it. Maybe that was the real reason why he still was up in Heaven while others had been casted out for doing a lot less. He had been deemed "worthy" already, the decision was final.

"I have no use for a place like this" said, disgusted at the thought. "Find a way to get me back or I will do it after telling everyone what you did. If I have to burn every house I come across and slash every neck that I can get my hands on, then I will. I will show to you and the rest of heaven how right they were sending me to hell."

Alastor wanted to call his magic to give his words more emphasis. But his shadows didn't respond and no tentacles were coming out of him. Did he even had any power left on this new realm? It made him sick just to think of how weak he had to be now. He didn't let any of that show on his face, smiling as usual.

Emily stared at him, not sure of how to respond.

"Okay, so, just so we are clear, we don't want to come to that, right? We both can agree there" asked after a while.

"I don't know, I feel with a particularly arsonist mood every minute I am away home" He sighed. "I am missing the battle too by being here. That doesn't help."

"You mean the… Oh" Emily floated closer and Alastor remembered that the rest of Heaven wasn't supposed to know about the extermination. He could probably use that as more leverage. "Is that how you ended up here?"

"Are you asking me how I died for the second time?" Alastor arched an eyebrow, amused. "Isn't that a morbid topic for an angel to feel curious about? Do you want me to describe how I felt myself drowning on my own blood, my dear? Or how I touched the injury of my neck open? Oh, wait, I could give you a demostration myself! Since Heaven won't let me have pain, I could just…"

"Do you do that a lot?" asked Emily suddenly. "I already accepted to help you out, Alastor. You don't have to try to intimidate me."

Alastor cleared his throat. Old habits died hard. She was more perceptive he gave her credit for.

"You do realize that try to send a winner to hell falls under the breaking rules category, right?" changed the topic easily.

"But if I don't do it, you will tell I already broke the rules before so what is the difference?" Emily frowned. "And just so you know, I would have help you even if you weren't backmailing me. If you genuinely are miserable in Heaven and want to return to your family, that would be the least thing I could do. I don't want anyone to be sad for all eternity."

"My mood is irrelevant. Like I said, they need me down there" clarified Alastor, holding his hands behind his back. "That is a nice sentiment, but I need to be sure we are going to be on the same boat, dear" Alastor smiled wide, petting her head like a little kid that was finally learning to multiply. "That is how we do things back in hell. I can't count on your word alone. If I don't fall, you fall. Or whatever else they decide to do with you, I don't know or care. Understood?"

"You are really mean" Emily pouted slightly, looking to a side.

Alastor did too when he thought of Lucifer calling him out.

"I know" said, before taking a breath. "How are we going to go about this? I already know what method I prefer to go with. The infinitely funnier one. Let's hear yours."

"Maybe the library?" suggested Emily. "It has a record for the most notorious souls that reached Heaven. If there is a soul that was vanished to hell after coming here, their name should come up. Then we can find out how they did it."

With no other alternative, that is where they went. The whole library seemed to be a cathedral by itself, way too big for anyone without wings or that couldn't fly, which was not an issue for Emily. As she was elevating herself to reach at the highest registers of books, Alastor had no other choice but to wait for her on the ground. That obnoxiously clean reflective ground that was returning to him the image of his new body there.

It was awful. Besides the change on his own skin, his hair had become duller like his finger tips. His whole suit had been changed into a soft yellow with some details in pure white, like the cross on top of his chest, the sleeves and the lapel jacket. He hated it, almost as much as the white his antlers had turn into, but none of that was as offensive and disgusting to his mind as the pair of white wings at his back and the halo above his head. Those two things in particular made him want to slam his head against the reflection until somehow he could destroy it or cause enough brain damage that he would die again.

On the time that Emily took to come back, he had at least the chance to learn to conjure his staff. White and gold, again, with a red heart on the center rather than an eye. The same connection was there, but it felt different, warmer than before. He wasn't sure that he liked that.

The only thing he could very well tolerate was his new brown eyes. He knew those were the closest to his when he was alive and that made it all the more alien after years getting used to the red ones.

Alastor gripped his hands together behind his back, elevating his gaze so he could ignore that. He didn't want to get used to any of this.

He was hoping she could have a faster solution at hand. A potion, a crystal, a portal. Anything that he could just eat, grab or jump into directly into the fiery pits that he called home, only to forget he ever saw any of this.

Purely because of habit, his hand reached out for his pocket and, surprisingly, something was actually there. He pulled his pocket watch and stared at it. Why was that still with him, but not his magic or ring?

"What is that?" asked Emily, floating nearby with a book on her hand.

The book in question was thicker than her entire torso. Despite that, she seemed to have no issue at all handling it.

"A present from Lucifer" said Alastor, frowing. "I don't know why it followed me to here."

Emily flied over him, throwing a quick glance to the object. Just that seemed to tell her everything she needed to know.

"It's made of angelic steel, isn't it? Then technically it already belonged to Heaven, so I guess it just came to its origin. With all the more reason if you are the owner" she explained, taking the book to a nearby table to open it up. One of the heavy half of the book slammed against the table, but no dust came because of course it wouldn't. Emily wasted no time going over the written lines, her eyes quickly jumping from one point to another. "It's a beautiful work, by the way! I haven't seen steel used like that in a long while. I guess people consider it old fashion now."

Alastor smirked at that. It was old fashioned in hell too. That is why Lucifer knew it wouldn't be out of place for him to have it. He opened up the cover and the clock was still ticking like normal. If what Vaggie said was true, then his time was still the same as it was on hell. Meaning that there had been already four hours since the battle started and two since he died again.

"Right now the first man must be dead" assumed, shrugging as he put the watch back where it belonged.

Emily shook her head at the casual comment.

"What-what? Why do you say that?"

"He killed the spouse of the devil. In hell" Alastor explained it like it should be obvious enough, relying his weight on the marble table. "A dumb move if I ever saw one. Lucifer doesn't know that I am here either. I will be very surprised if he left any of your little exorcist alive after that. Ah, what I would give to have seen it with my own eyes. It must have been truly glorious. To not witness my husband going all out on some puny angels and stain the ground gold with their blood in a mockery of Heaven might be the biggest tragedy of it all."

Emily stared at his wistful expression. She did not understand hellish beings at all.

"I don't know if to be creeped out or endeared by that" said after a while. Her finger was still moving over the page, following each line. "Your face and the words you say are confusing me."

Alastor chuckled. He took notice that she wasn't saddened by the lost of Adam or the other exorcists, which did earn her a few more points.

"Feel whatever you want, dear, but do keep searching. The sooner I can come back, the sooner I can ask Lucifer all the details."

Emily sighed.

"I don't know how long this could take" recognized, throwing a glance at him. "You know, while I am doing this, you could…"

"No" Alastor alredy knew what she wanted to say.

"You didn't even let me finish."

"I won't go visit my mother."

"Ah." Emily played with the corner of a page for a second, almost shy. She knew she was threading on personal territory and didn't want to overstep his boundaries. Alastor could appreciate that. "Mmm, want to tell me why is that?"

"What is the point? Just so I have to say goodbye again? To tell her sorry, mom, I actually prefer to live in hell for the rest of eternity than live in heaven with you? By the way, we might never see each other again, so let these be my last words to you." He exhaled through his lips, practically a snort but not quite. Luckily for him the entire library was empty with the sole exception of a library angel that was floating on the furthest shelfs, no interested in telling them to shut up. "What mother wants to hear something like that from their only son? What person even?"

Emily pressed her lips together, thoughful.

"She does know Lucifer though. And Charlie" said, as gently as she could. "I am certain that she would understand that you want to be with them. And don't say again that your mood is irrelevant. You are allowed to miss your family."

Alastor's lip twitched as he straighten up again, leaving the table. Emily followed up his movements, not sure if she had screwed up or how badly.

"Keep looking, dear. I need some… disgustingly fresh air. I might see where I can get gasoline."

"You are not going to burn houses, right?" asked Emily. The snickering she could hear from Alastor did nothing to calm her down. "Hey, no cut anything either, okay? If there is anything here that can help I will find it! Just have some patience, alright?"

Alastor dedicated her a high thumbs up, not promising anything. When he heard a little groan from Emily, he draw a bigger smile. She was too easy to pick on.

He thought that a walk would help distract his mind and it did, replacing the thoughts of his mother with more disgust directed at this entire realm that he thought was capable of. Up head he saw someone dropping their purse while talking through the phone, only for a stranger to pick it up and give it back without even trying to see what was inside. The owner of the purse thank them, they shook hands and each of them were their separate ways.

Neither of them tried to knock the other. There was no demand for a reward. There was no second inspection of the purse to see that something gross hasn't been put inside. There was no bomb in the purse to surprise any of them. A perfectly civilized and calm interaction that nobody around them cared about.

How utterly disgusting. How could they live like this? Every day for eternity?

Alastor shook off the shiver that ran through him and continue walking. If Lucifer could find him no matter where he was with his own angelic powers, then no doubt Emily could do the same when she found his way back home.

He didn't had any concrete objective in mind, so his steps somehow end up in what looked to be a commercial area. Except that everything was for free all the time and yet, nobody was trying to take out the products off the shelfs or exhibitors. It was all registered calmly by a cashier and it was done, wishing everyone to have a good day with a genuine smile. Absolute madness.

He was looking for a butcher shop or appliance for the kitchen where he could see the knives, when a reflection in the vitrines made him stop. He turned around and wasn't wrong. An exorcist was just coming out from a ortophedic shop, testing out still the shiny metal arm coming up above where her elbow used to be.

Alastor felt his heart skip a beat. Did Lucifer do that? Did his love ripped an arm clean on his rampage? Oh, he could only imagine the scream of pain that exorcist would make. He hoped it had been a espectacularly high pitched one. The voice of a soprano perhaps whose painful notes could break glass. The only question was why was she alive. The thought of her somehow managing to escape was unlikely, but not entirely impossible, he imagined.

Before he could realize what he was doing, he was already following after her, instinctively knowing to keep a healthy distance to not alert her at first. Did any of them survive too? Was Adam somewhere? But no, that would be actually impossible. Once Lucifer had a reason to want someone dead, they had to be a goner. Of that he had no single doubt.

When the exorcist turned in a corner, Alastor went there too and immediately was knocked against the wall. Her metal arm was pressing against his chest.

"Why the fuck are you following me?" asked the exorcist. Alastor noticed that her eyes looked so very tired and slightly red, like she had been crying not that long ago. That brought him even more joy to think were tears of grief. "If you like me so much, you could be less of a creep about it. But beyond that, I am not interested so you can forget it."

"Goodness gracious, no!" Alastor laughed at the misunderstanding. If he did ever had such intentions, she would have never seen him coming. He had been so curious that he didn't bothered to be as stealth as he could be. "I am a married man, my dear. Trust me, I have zero interest on you in that way."

The exorcist arched an eyebrow, looking down for a second before looking up again.

"I don't see any ring."

Alastor's eyes crinkled.

"My point still stands."

"Why were you following me then?"

"Well, you see, dear" started Alastor, grabbing her arm and twisting it to press it against the exorcist's back, putting her now against the same wall. Even without his powers, he still remembered a thing or two of how to use his body. "I just have a couple of questions and I will let you go. Simple as that. First one, you just came back from the extermination, didn't you?"

The exorcist froze in place, stopping her attempts to get ride of him and looked at him over her shoulder. It took her a couple of seconds, but soon her eyes widened with recognition.

"The red demon on the roof."

Alastor gave her a toothy smile. He had no idea of who she was without her mask. To him she was just any other of the exorcist that used the same dark uniform. It still made him happy that apparently she had been paying attention during the fight with Adam.

"The radio demon to be more exact."

"W-why… what are you…"

"To tell you the truth, I am just as confused as you are, dear. I am trying to rectify this mistake right now. If we are both lucky, I won't be on the same realm as you for long. But that doesn't answer my question, doesn't it?" Alastor let her go when he realized she wasn't going to fight anymore. She turned around, her hand holding onto the start of her mechanical arm as if it was suddenly hurting. Alastor sighed, lifting a finger to press against the metal plaque. "Did my husband do that?"

The exorcist looked creeped out by the tone of his voice. Alastor did not bother to hide the yearning on his voice. Here he didn't had to keep the secret from anyone.

"N-no…" Her eyes darted around, no doubt evaluating the prospect of risking causing a scene. If she did, Alastor would loudly talk about the extermination for anyone to hear. They both knew it. "No, I did it."

"Well, that was stupid and dissapointing. What happened after I was out of commission?"

"Adam…" The exorcist closed her eyes, as if saying that name was already costing her too much. Alastor smiled bigger. Oh, a true loss. How fun. "Adam went for the princess and Lucifer appeared."

"Then what?"

She sighed, her brow wrinkling at the effort of controlling herself. Alastor waited. He could have patience for this.

"I don't really know how, but he took us all out. It all happened so fast. First Adam, then everyone else."

"You are the only survivor?" asked Alastor, imagining alredy the terrifying vision that it must have been to witness.

The sounds of the scream and slaughter as they all succumbed to the king without quartel, learning way too late that they couldn't do anything against his king. More than ever since waking up in Heaven, Alastor so wished to hold Lucifer.

"That is so awful" said Alastor with obvious mirth. "He left you to be his messanger. What message did you had to deliver that it was worth your life, dear?"

The exorcist nodded.

"He said…" She swallowed, looking to a side. "He said I should get to live, knowing I couldn't do anything to save him. He also said that… all of that was the price for his sinner."

Alastor put his forehead against the wall above the head of the exorcist, closing his eyes as he breathed in. His whole body shivered as he bite down on his own fingers. The exorcist's eyes darted around as she took a silent step to the left, away from him. She didn't want to ask or know what was that about.

Alastor wouldn't have tell her even if she did, even if they were close friends instead of strangers meeting in the weirdest cicumstances. He wouldn't be able to describe the pure violent longing that made its home on the pit of his stomach, making him wish he could burn all of Heaven already. Burn them for ever making Lucifer to hurt himself and burn them again for having the audacity of keeping them apart. He wanted to do it now, until there was nothing more than ashes and the gold finally lost its shine, the sky turned grey and their gates was pulverized. The image was so clear on his head that it was already a beautiful painting. It would be his offering, his gift to Lucifer, given in a golden platter before he let the familiar flames consume him.

After a definitely uncomfortably long amount of time, Alastor woke up from his trance. He cleared his throat, regaining his composure as if nothing had happened.

"I am okay" said Alastor, fixing his suit. "Thank you for being so cooperative, dear. I have no use for you anymore so you can continue your merry way. I will keep my mouth shut too" added when she glared at him.

She had no reason to trust him, but for now the need of putting distance between the two of them was bigger than her reason. Right before she ran, her eyes fixated above Alastor and straighten up with a salute.

"Maam!"

Alastor had heard the delicate flapping of the wings already. When he turned around, though, it wasn't Emily that was standing behind him. That other, what was her name? The older one smiled pleasantly.

"You can go, Lute. I was intending to talk to our new resident. You earned yourself a rest."

Lute nodded emphatically, throwing a glance to Alastor before she put her legs to good use. Alastor likewise, hiting the floor with his staff.

"I don't believe we have been properly introduced, my dear! I am…"

"Alastor Morningstar" said Sera, tilting her head lightly. "Of course, Saint Peter told me already."

Was Saint Peter the gossiper of this place? Had he made a mistake already? No, they were going to find out his name sooner or later.

"Well, that is no fun!" declared Alistor with a lightheated chuckle. "I wanted to keep some sense of mystery for a while longer, but alas! Let me return the favor then. You are Sera, isn't it? I think Emily might have mentioned it when we first met."

The seraphim nodded. She was beautiful, he had to give her that, but she lacked the open arms aura of his husband. This angel kept her arms in front, where she could maintain at a distance what she didn't need.

"I am sorry I wasn't able to welcome you before. I had to have a talk with the elders about your… situation. You probably understand already how peculiar it is."

"No doubt about it!" laughed Alastor, wondering where the hell was Emily. "Emily has been a delight showing me around already! I don't think I will need any further assistance navigating this place. I appreciate the concern anyway."

"Oh, no, I wasn't trying to offer you another tour" Sera put a graceful hand on his shoulder. "Would you mind coming with me so we can have a talk?"

This seraphim was older than Emily. Bigger and probably a lot stronger. Worse than that, he had nothing to hold against her. He had no choice but to follow, for now.

"Lead the way, dear."

#radioapple #appleradio #duckiedeer #lucifer x alastor #hazbin hotel au #arranged marriage au

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differenteagletragedy · 9 months

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oh oh! as a Capricorn, i would love hcs for the olba guys spending your birthday in between the holidays with you, bc we don't get elaborate birthdays :( as a birthday gift, thank you

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!! I got you words about boys hope you love them <3

-- You probably already guessed it, but your birthday isn't getting skipped on anybody's watch here.

-- Cove will be mean about it if he has to be. Omg imagine little savage baby Cove over at your house and some relative or friend of your moms is there and gives you a present with the old "This is for Christmas and your birthday!" routine.

Cove: Those are two separate things. I always get a present for both.

Moms: Come on Cove, it's the thought that counts.

Cove: They should have thought harder.

-- Even when you get older, Cove isn't going to let that fly. He loves giving gifts, it's really important to him, and you are the MOST important. If one of your friends gives you a double duty present, he might not say anything, but he's judging.

-- Derek would never in a million years try to combine everything. Would you get a specially planned party with your favorite people, foods, music etc. any other time in the year with him? Of course. So this is no different.

-- When you were kids and he figured out when your birthday was, he had A Talk with his parents about it. The holidays are for family, sure, but your birthday is for you and he wants to be there with you for it. If you want him to be! No big deal if not!

-- Baxter is throwing you a birthday party, and if whatever venue he picks uses holiday decorations then he will burn it to the ground.

-- He is very very thoughtful, so thoughtful that he doesn't even really want you to know how thoughtful he is. And he notices tons of things without you saying. So if it does bother you that everything sort of gets lumped together a lot and you don't get to have a big special day just for you like everybody else, then he's going to notice that and he's going to fix it.

-- I'm not saying your birthday is MORE important than the holidays to Cove, but I am also not NOT saying that, you know?

-- Oh we've been doing Cliff and his MC too haven't we?! This is one day that, as long as Cove doesn't live at home anymore, Cliff is going to just let Cove know that he's not going to be super available.

-- Cliff knows he's got some baggage and he appreciates you being so accommodating with how much he takes Cove into consideration, but this day is all about you, regardless of anything else.

-- This isn't super specific to this kind of birthday, but Baxter will make you a cake if you ask nicely. He'll still want to get Xavier to bake one, but baking is obviously a special little thing between the two of you.

-- Every year you bake each other a birthday cake and it turns into a competition to see who can outdo the other. You hear him in the kitchen, muttering to himself as he tries to draw a template at the counter.

Baxter: *presenting you with a cake in the shape of something you like* This is like that trend, is it a cake or is it *object*?

You: ... It's obviously a cake, Baxter. Geez.

-- Do you like the holidays too? Because if you want, Derek will take down all the decorations the night before your birthday then put them all back up the day after if you want. You can tell him that's too much work, but you're worth the effort!

#our life beginnings and always #cove holden #derek suarez #baxter ward #cliff holden

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kitkatopinions · 11 months

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Nitpick for Day #9

There's like, barely any work put into the relationships between the adult characters in RWBY and it makes them feel unplanned and half-baked. It's obviously not as important as the kids relationships with each other, with their mentors, etcetera, so it's technically a nitpick, but it's one that drives me up the wall.

Tai and Qrow have some sort of moment in V3 before Qrow tells Ruby some important stuff? That's never come up and likely never will again. We have no information on what their relationship is like outside of that singular moment and the fact that Tai laughs about tricking him into wearing a skirt when they were kids (I am so glad I rejected the idea of Tai and Qrow disliking each other for my own headcanons, but that's the sort of vibe those two interactions give me.)

Was Tai originally part of Oz's inner circle? What was his relationship with Raven like? What was his relationship with Summer like before they got together?

Tai is friends with Peter Port and Barty Ooblek enough that they came over to his house, but Yang never is like ??? "why are my teachers here?" And yet there's no indication outside of that scene that Port and Ooblek are old friends of Qrow's, we never see them talk to Glynda or Oz, there's no mention that Ruby or Yang have any reason to believe their teachers are connected to Tai and yet they're in his house later and it's treated as normal old friends just dropping in.

We don't know when Qrow and Winter's rivalry started, we don't know anything about Amber, we don't know if James even really knows who Raven is, we don't know what Glynda or Qrow or James's relationship with Lionheart was like, we don't know when exactly any of them got recruited to Oz's inner circle, we don't know when Oz went to school or with whom despite the fact that according to the After the Fall/Before the Dawn books, he was 'younger than forty,' and we don't know anything about who 'Ozpin' was outside of Oz. We're told that Tai 'shut down' after Summer's death and left Yang to raise Ruby on her own and yet Tai as we know him seems like a perfectly fine and present dad, so when did he break out of it? What was Qrow's reaction to Summer's death? How did the Inner Circle respond to Tai's shut down if at all? Did Summer have parents? Does Tai have parents? Were Qrow and Raven born into the Branwen camp? What sort of treatment did Qrow and Raven get there growing up? Why would Raven leave it just to go back? There are big blazing question mark signs attached to tons of the adult characters, and yet none of it is treated as that important. Literally in ten years, we're only just now starting to get information about Summer that feels out of place because of how little work was gone into the adults in general. The whole scene with Summer and Raven in V9 just raises more questions, and at this point it's unlikely that we'll get any satisfying answeres considering the possibility of V10 being the last volume (if we even get a V10.) What the heck is up with Theodore? We might not hear very much of it, but he's Inner Circle, he's a Headmaster, we should know something about him in the main show.

The closest we get to like, meaningful relationships is Oz's inner circle, James and Winter, the Ace Ops, and then the weird rushed work they put into making Qrow be Clover's friend for a season and then making Qrow be Robyn's friend in the season after that. And even those got not a lot of attention at all so they all feel weird and shallow. We're randomly supposed to believe that James groomed Winter, but we're given very little details on their relationship. We see Oz's Inner Circle working together or arguing or talking things out, we see Ironwood and Qrow hug, we see Qrow want to kill James, and yet even all of that is not actually treated as important enough to really have good resolution or consideration. I like a lot of them, but one reason why I like all of them is because I've come up with tons of wide backstory about their teen years and dynamics and how they wound up joining up with the things they've joined up with.

#rwde #rwde nitpicks #nitpick november

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wewerebornsextuplets · 4 months

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I dunno if someone asked this already but how did your sweetie lesbians meet and fall in love ? What kind of dates do they go on and what’s their relationship dynamic 🥹

i am OVER THE MOON that you asked!! i'll give a little abridged version of their history first [mostly because i wanna do a more in-depth post later.. id feel weird doing that on an ask OTL] and then get to the present-day fun stuff ^__^

the two of them met in college, when they were in their second year! keiko was friend's with kiru's roommate at the time, which is how they met. it took a few months for them to actually get to be Familiar with one another, mostly because they were in wildly different courses and had absolutely zero classes in common [keiko was studying for librarian certs and kiru was shooting to get into a more prestigious veterinary school once her bachelor's was done], but they were both pretty interested in each other since they always really enjoyed the few conversations they Would get to have. once classes + schedules changed and allotted for more free time, the two of them started hanging out more and more and became friends Very quickly.

their third year is when they started to Actually get close, though; even though their personal experiences were very different on paper, i think they both related in that they felt similar ways about themselves, especially in relation to other people. in particular i have a very specific comic idea in my head related to keiko learning makeup and other skills from kiru; since the latter had so many bad experiences with cosmetics and trying to appear "feminine" in the past, i think she was Very careful about making sure keiko knew that she didnt have to do anything she didn't want to, and that above all else it should be fun for her. this assurance helped keiko navigate her own personal tastes and preferences much more easily, and it brought the two of them much closer together. they decided to try out dating at the end of their third year in college and have been together ever since :,)

during the early stages of their relationship, i think kiru tried to take her on a lot more ""fancy""/nice dates since she felt like she had to impress her, but over time they both realized they kind of hated that LMFAO. they both tend to be pretty adventurous and would try Anything once, but i think they would like going on movie dates the most :-) in particular they both really enjoy watching movies that they KNOW are gonna be bad just so they can make fun of them later on. theyll stay in just to watch movies so bad they dont even MAKE it to the theaters sometimes!

as for their actual dynamic. i think keiko is probably still the more direct/"assertive" one? thats not to say kiru Isnt direct or assertive when she needs to be, but keiko has more of that confidence across the board. "somebody's gotta tell the waiter i ordered mashed potatoes and it aint gonna be be" or however that quote goes. shes still got a little of her upbringing baked into her behavior is all! they tend to be a pretty jokey couple as well; theyre always looking for silly ways to annoy one another or just to make each other laugh. i like to think of them as the kind of couple that seems like theyve been together for much longer than they really have... like the kind of people where youre genuinely shocked when you find out they Havent been married for 20 years even though you know that would be impossible

that said when it comes to like, domestic life, they split household chores and daily tasks pretty evenly [the main exception here is that keiko Cannot cook to save her life... that lady could burn cold cereal and its hardly an exaggeration]. both of them are very diligent, and are the kind of people who prefer to plan ahead/keep track of a schedule [a vet + a librarian is kind of a winning combination when it comes to keeping a schedule], so when it comes to vacations or the like theyre both very well-prepared! theyre the type of people have one of those gay little dry-erase wall calendars hanging somewhere.

#larry time #answers #kiru #keiko #this ended up being so long LMAO sorry about that 😭😭 i hope i didnt ramble too much!!#im very glad you like them TT_TT... i should talk about their relationship more #and keiko herself more ngl.

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windblume-wishes · 1 year

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So….I hate that you love to torture me with my simps and one of them is deuce..

I want a fluff request of GN! S/O giving Deuce a gift for his birthday which is chicks and a spade card with the adorable note for no reason. And then proceeded to kill him with kiss after the gift giving..

I am SOO gonna kill you BLUME!!!!

𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤, 𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕣! 𝕀𝕥’𝕤 𝕒 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥! ♡︎

Rose, I’m wounded! Kill little ol’ me? What have I EVER done you you?/j Well, no matter, I see you want some Deucey, eh? That can be arranged. What’s next, dearie? Some Rinne? Some HiMERU? Kufufufufu~!

𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎, 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝙶𝙽 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛. 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚛!

𝕃𝕖𝕥’𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕨, 𝕀 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕒 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖...

Deuce Spade x GN!S/O - Chicks And Kisses

You absolutely loved Deuce, he was your world as much as you were his- after all, he always said you reminded him of his mother who he loves deeply. When he says words like that how could you ever not like him? Simple, you could not and you would not. Now that it was to be his birthday soon, you had to give him something special- but what?

You sat at your bedroom desk and pondered about what to gift your boyfriend, it had to be something special, something sweet yet something simple. Deuce was never the sort of guy to go the extravagant route, he enjoyed simplicity as he himself is a very simple minded guy. You eventually came to the conclusion that you should ask his dorm mates, they had to know at least something, right?

“Oi, human! Where ya goin’?” Grim ran over to you with a huff, planting himself right on your feet so you could not move. “Ya ain’t leavin’ me! I know I ate your sandwich earlier but ya can’t stay mad!”

“Grim, I’m not mad, you silly cat! I’m just heading over to Heartslabyul to get some present ideas for Deuce, his birthday is soon.” You smile, bending down and picking your feline companion up and scratching behind his soft ears. “Could you be a good boy and watch over the dorm for me? You are on Guard Kitty duty!”

“So whatcha sayin’ is in officially the man of the house and I’m in charge! HAHA! Thank you, henchman! I’ll be sure to bring you a reward tonight!”

You froze, knowing full well it may yet again be another deceased mouse or bug. “Just as long as it’s not another dead bug or mouse…”

“Fnnggaaa! Fine!” He huffed and hopped out of your arms, leaving fur on your clothes. “I’ll be sure to bring ya a live mouse then!”

————

Asking about was more difficult than you had anticipated, every answer was vastly different from the last and you did not know how to pull off half of the outlandish responses you were given. Ace has proved himself useless saying that all Deuce would want is an A in a class for once in his life, the other roommates were also useless, claiming they really did not have a clue as to what to get him. Cater was not particularly the best at giving advice on what to give Deuce while Trey suggested that you simply bake him a recipe from his mum- no that would not do, especially considering that Deuce would know something is up the second you ask about a recipe his mum would make for him.

Back to square one indeed.

You sighed and began to stroll towards the Rose Garden Maze where you could hear faint laughter coming from the bushes- you knew that precious laugh, it was Deuce! You quietly hurried over to the noise and hid, watching him from a distance as he played with the hedgehogs and baby flamingos. You had never seen him so soft and gentle, holding hedgehogs with the upmost love and affection and petting the baby flamingos gently as they gave him their version of a kiss.

That’s it! What baby animal does Deuce have the most love for? Chickens! He loves little chicks! This should be an easy little present- all you had to do was talk to Riddle about allowing them in the dorm and then finding out how to get your hands on some unhatched eggs containing baby chicks.

Riddle approved of the chicks under the condition that Deuce takes care of them all the way that Deuce takes care of them and is responsible- of course, you knew that meant Deuce would try and be as attentive as humanly possible for the baby birds in his care. You took a trip to Sam’s shop and asked him about baby chickens for a present for Deuce, surprisingly he was able to order some just in time for Deuce’s special day.

—————

“Happy Birthday, Deuce!” You called out, running to him with a blindfold and a smile on your face. “I have a surprise for you, birthday boy!”

Deuce began to blush the second he saw you run up to him so happily, never once letting his goofy smile fade from his sweet face.

“Y-Y/N, thank you! U-um what’s with the blindfold…? There’s no piñata is there? I did not see one so…?”

“No, no there is not!” You giggle. “Now come and put this on, I have a special surprise for you!”

Deuce did as he was told, the rest of Heartslabyul staring at him knowing full well what the surprise was and how happy it would make him. They watched in anticipation as you tied the blindfold carefully around his eyes and lead him out to the Heartslabyul gardens, where the baby chicks were waiting for him with Ace. You remove the blindfold and immediately Deuce fell to his knees in surprise, letting out tears of happiness as Ace releases the chicks who immediately run to him.

“Hello, little ones! Oh hello! Y-Y/N did you do this?” He smiled as tears fell from his blue eyes as you nodded. “Thank you! This- This is the best day of my life! I’m now a chicken daddy!”

“Happy birthday, Sweet Deucey! I love you!”

—————

*Later that day…*

Deuce picked up his phone and called his mum, the phone immediately answered and the cheerful voice of Ms. Spade immediately spoke up.

“Hello sweetie! Happy birthday!”

“Mummy! Mummy, guess what!” Deuce exclaimed excitedly.

“What, baby boy? What’s going on?” She asked happily, genuinely curious as to what got her son into such a excited mood.

“Mummy, I’m now a father!”

“D-Deuce…?! I’m sorry, love, what d-did you say?!”

“I’m a father now! Guess that makes you a grandmum now!”

Ms. Spade felt her soul leave her body at that very moment…

#windblume writes #twisted wonderland #twst #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #deuce spade and his mum #twst deuce #deuce twisted wonderland #deuce twst #disney fanfiction #twisted wonderland fanfiction

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