#but by golly i can still dream!!!!

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

these scenarios of FL being comforted and having poofy hair makes me so SOFT i love them so much!! I wanna pet his hair so bad it's illegal that I can't ;__; <3 <3

same anon, same...... sometimes i really just want Foul Legacy fluff to bury my hands into but woefully i have no Foul Legacy with me ;-;;;

but we can imagine!!! so think about having a tired Foul Legacy curled up on your lap, snoozing away as you idly wind your fingers through his fluffy hair, staring at the fireplace. he's heavy, but not so heavy that you feel crushed, and whenever he snuggles closer you feel your heart grow warm. your hands move slowly from just petting his hair to scritching behind both of his horns, Foul Legacy cooing in his sleep and leaning subconsciously into your touch, head pressing into your hand more and more until he tips over and startles awake with a little yelp. he blinks, still so so sleepy, and nuzzles down into the crook of your neck as you cradle his head, fingers buried in his fluff. with a couple tired, drowsy trills Foul Legacy melts against you, eye slipping shut with a blissful croon when you caress his face, thumb gliding over the dips and edges of his mask-like face

you resume petting him, Foul Legacy resumes his nap, and all is safe and peaceful today

[artiststarme]

It's No Secret... Anymore

Thank you to @mx-jinxous for the prompt! This took a really long time to write but it was so much fun playing with everyone's dynamics. I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Steve felt like he was dreaming. It felt like he was looking through someone else’s eyes, dissociating far from his own body. He couldn’t feel the weight of Eddie’s slowly-fading body in his arms or the burning of the wounds in his sides. He wasn’t aware of where he was or if anyone was following him. He was purely relying on muscle memory and muscle memory alone. 

He didn’t see the speeding car in front of him that swerved into a nearby bush and fence post. He hardly noticed the hands pulling him backward and out of the road. He came back to himself though once he heard his brother’s voice. 

“Steve? Steve-O? Come on buddy, you’re worrying me here. Where have you been? I haven't seen your ass all week. Come on man, are you… are you fucking bleeding? Brother, answer me. We can’t be out here, there’s an earthquake going on. Come with me.”

Steve blinked just to come face to face with Phil. He was shining his flashlight on Eddie’s face against Steve’s shoulder but his eyes were focused directly on Steve’s.

“You with me, bro?” His mustache twitched unhappily and Steve rushed to answer. 

“Um, no. Not really. I think he’s dying and I kinda might be too. And I think my friends are missing? Where am I?” Steve couldn’t get his thoughts together cohesively. His mind was fractured, overcome with too much trauma in too little time. 

Phil just looked more concerned at his words with his face becoming vaguely panicked once he looked at Eddie. He looked quickly up at Steve, down at Eddie, then back at Steve. “Is this Eddie Munson? The murderer Eddie Munson? The Eddie Munson that has been on the run all week? Good golly Steve, I’m trying not to curse but what the fuck?”

Steve just looked at the pinched expression of pain that Eddie held and murmured, “he’s my friend.”

“Oh my god, Steve. Fine, we’ll deal with this later. Think you can walk to my squad car? I kinda damaged the front end but I’m sure it's semi-driveable. Powell’s tied up with the gates to hell opening up, I have plenty of time to take care of you.”

“Yeah, I can- I can walk,” and he could with the support of Phil. He felt his brother supporting both his and Eddie’s weight until they were deposited into the backseat of the patrol unit. 

“And uh, is the girl hiding in the bushes with you? She’s kinda been watching us for awhile. You might have a stalker, little bro.” He shined his flashlight over to the bush and saw a sandy bob duck behind the foliage. 

“Robin?” Steve muttered, still out of it and only on the verge of consciousness. 

“Buckley, is that you? Come on, you’re coming with us back to Steve’s place. Let’s go,” Phil waved the light between the two. He had both hands on his hips and stood like a disappointed middle-aged dad. “I don’t have time to be doing things willy-nilly. Let’s go!”

Robin poked her head out of the bushes and scooted gracelessly over to the car until she was able to bump elbows with Steve. They both relaxed a smidgen within the same space, the two brain cells reuniting after a stressful ten minutes apart.

Phil hopped in the driver’s seat and bumped his head against the steering wheel. What had this idiot gotten himself into now?

~*~*~*~

By the time Phil arrived at his house at the edge of the suburbs, all three kids were out cold in his backseat. He stood at the open back door for a moment before sighing and lugging first Robin, then Eddie, then Steve into his living room, huffing with exertion all the while. He would definitely have to cut back on the station donuts and start exercising again. Right after he dealt with the dying fugitive on his brother’s couch, the blood seeping through Steve’s shirt, and his brother’s unconscious best friend that was snoring atrociously. 

Jesus Christ. 

Well, he had plenty of practice with medical care from his EMT training so he got to work. He got the first aid kit out of the squad car and started with the murderous Munson. Phil didn’t know what had happened to these kids but it couldn’t be any good. Munson’s entire torso was torn apart like he’d been gnawed on by a wild animal. It wasn’t bleeding too bad but he was missing chunks of skin, so much so that Phil couldn’t sew him up with just sutures. Hell, this kid was going to need skin grafts. A lot of them. 

He put gauze on the worst of the wounds then cautiously stepped over to Steve. What he’d seen on Munson made him hesitant to look at the damage but surely it couldn’t be worse than that. Right? As soon as he lifted Steve’s shirt, he came immediately to two conclusions. 

1. Steve had a lot more chest hair than he did and that was totally unfair.

2. The wounds on Steve’s abdomen were deep, infected, and horrific. 

Just like with Munson, there was nothing to close. All he saw were missing chunks of skin and muscle that should have been in his sides. The marred remains were covered in grime and yellowish puss that made the entire room smell of infection. 

Fuck, he couldn’t help them here. He had to get them, all three of them because he wasn’t touching an unconscious girl for anything, to a hospital. But that begged the question; which hospital? Munson… Eddie was wanted all through the state of Indiana for at least three murders and an assault. If he took him to any nearby hospital, he would be arrested and surely there was more to the story if Steve was protecting him so much. He couldn’t let one of Steve’s only friends get arrested without hearing the story from the both of them. 

He had to take these three up to a hospital in Illinois. Chicago was roughly four hours away, he knew from his and Steve’s annual visits to their great aunt in Evanston. It was a risk, both for aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive as well as hoping he survived that long of a drive, but his gut told him to trust his brother on this one. So that’s what he did. He loaded the three teens back into his patrol car and mumbled swears under his breath when he passed the “Leaving Hawkins” sign. He hoped to all that was mighty that he was making a good call. 

~*~*~*~

Steve woke up to familiar voices; one hushed and one screeching. 

“You kidnapped them?! You’re a cop, I thought you would help them but instead you drove them all the way to goddamn Chicago like some middle-aged pervert loser?” Steve came around to a loud argument between what sounded like Dustin and Phil. It was weird though because he’d never introduced the two. 

“Hey, listen here shithead, words hurt. I am not middle-aged, I’m 28. And why would I kidnap my own brother? I can legally take him anywhere, it's practically my birthright. I don’t have to go through all the work of kidnapping him.” Phil shook his head at Dustin.

“Stop trying to trick me, I know Eddie is an only child!”

“Munson?! I’m Steve’s big brother, you little gremlin. Can’t you see the resemblance?” He gestured between where Steve was groggily looking up at him and then back at himself. 

“No, but I can’t see anything past your outrageous mustache.” Steve saw Phil’s jaw drop and knew that Dustin had crossed a line. 

“You short fucker, that is too far! I take a lot of pride in this ‘outrageous mustache’,” Phil put air quotes around the offending remake before pointing an aggressive finger in Dustin’s direction. “I will absolutely take you off the visitation list, toothless. Do not test me.” 

“Don’t threaten me, I’ll report you to the authorities!” Dustin countered. 

“I am the authorities!” Phil dropped all decorum and screamed at practically the top of his lungs. 

Sensing enough was enough, Steve tried to push himself up to a sitting position before a burning in his sides caused him to fall back down. Both men (or one man and Dustin) stopped their squabbling and rushed to his sides.

“Steve, you’re hurt so don’t try to get up. Shit kid, let me get a nurse or something. You weren’t doing too hot.” With that Phil sprinted out of the room, presumably to the nurse’s station and Steve was left with Dustin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin. 

He looked blearily at all of them before asking the most important question, “where’s Eddie?”

They all parted to reveal Eddie lying in the bed next to him. His neck and chest were covered with bandages but his face looked peaceful. There were no cuffs on his wrists as Steve assumed there would be. He laid back again and let out a sigh. Everything was as it should be, he could finally relax.

“Um so Steve, don’t be mad but your brother can be really persuasive when he wants to be and you never introduced him as your brother so I just kind of assumed that we were getting captured by the police and that it was going to be so much worse than the Russians because I always thought Officer Callahan was kind of psycho. But then I woke up here and he bought me Cheetos so everything is fine. Except it's kind of not because you and Eddie have been out for a couple of days and I told Big Not-Harrington about the Upside Down and now he’s really worried. Why did you have to stay asleep so long, dingus? I missed you!”

Steve honestly zoned out when he heard “Cheetos” and only tuned back in when Robin, the usual physical affection-hater, threw herself on top of him in a hug. He withheld the grunt of pain and held her back just as hard. 

“What the hell just happened, bro? Like that was a lot of words, little bird lady. Woah.”

Steve didn’t know if he was hallucinating the long-haired surfer in a Hawaiian outfit or if Vecna had somehow managed to melt his mind after all but he had never been more confused in his life to see the new visitor make themselves known. 

“Who the fuck is that?” He muttered in absolute bafflement. 

Dustin sighed as he too wrestled a hug from Steve, “that’s Argyle. Come on, Steve. Keep up.”

“Like the sock pattern? How many drugs am I on right now?!”

~*~*~*~

“... and that’s kind of why I didn’t tell you about the Upside Down,” Steve finished from his seat beside Eddie, their hands tangled together as they both sat across from Phil. 

He looked at both of them with a completely deadpan stare. “Again, but the truth this time.”

Eddie huffed in annoyance. “We are telling you the truth, man! An evil wizard guy named Vecna-”

“Slash Henry, slash One,” Steve and Robin interjected in unison.

“-possessed four teenagers to end the world or something and broke their bodies apart with his mind. Then the angry mob thought it was me but I would never kill anyone, especially not Chrissy. She was always really nice to me and remembered my band from the talent show in middle school. And then we got stuck in Hell where evil demon bats ate our flesh and tentacles ripped through the earth. Then we saved Nancy from the evil mind melt powers by playing her favorite song. After that, we made a plan and she shot Vecna and killed him while Dustin and I were decoys where I was attacked.”

“Then I went back for Eddie and carried him out where you almost ran us over. The end,” Steve emphasized the finale with a deliberate nod of his still-aching head. 

Phil looked at them with the most exasperation Steve had ever seen in his life. He let out a pitying chuckle, his poor brother didn’t sign up for this. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Phil's eyes rolled so hard that Steve could tell he saw stars. He could almost see the scream being prepared in his throat and couldn't gather enough strength to escape it.

"STEVEN MICHAEL HARRINGTON, WHAT THE MOTHERLOVING FUCK?!"

"Look Philly, I'll say it one more time then I'm done, okay? It first started way back when Will Byers went missing in 1983..."

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[critterbitter]

HELLO HI ID LIKE TO ASK WHAT PROGRAM AND BRUSHES YOU USE CUZ IM LITTERALY EXPLODING EVERYTIME I SEE YOUR ART

actually actually... *pulls out whole stack of paper*...I have. a FEW,, a good few,, questions to ask. they are not many I swear 😇

OK SO FIRST OF ALL HOW DO YOU DRAW SO FAST???? everyday I log onto Tumblr I always see something new from you and I get very very happy. But then I start to question my own existence because not even I CAN SPEED RUN ART LIKE THAT. AND SO SPECTACULARLY TOO

Last question! how do you color and make it look so well?? just. How. I need to know. This is a CRY FOR HE-

anyway thank you for being one of my favorite artists that always feed my brain rot, pls keep making amazing art because like a little yamper I will follow behind and stay updated.

(Stands there)

Response and thoughts under cut!

First question! What art program I use!

Mostly procreate, along with a handful of brushes! (Specifically the Jing Set and some custom stuff, which is really just a circle brush with the shape changed to a square.)

Second question! How do i draw so much!

Okay so. I am. Ahhah. Unemployed,,,,? No, I do freelance illustration, but hmm. A studio job would be nice.

i graduated college last year and I’m very used to eight hour art shifts. The body sort of remembers to keep working, even though I no longer have storyboards or visdev homework to do.

Also. The hyperfixation is a deep vast tunnel I STILL have not seen the end of the light to, good golly. (I have dreams now about the kids committing shenanigan crimes. I wake up in cold sweat and write them down in a journal. It’s like being the mouthpiece to an angry god.)

So the overall gist is: I was trained to be a storyboard artist with a visdev background, and I’m using that higher education to draw funny muppets because my brain’s funny.

I also DO have a queue, and I’ve been treating this as a sort of inktober project. I am definitely going to slow down soon though! Maybe. Hopefully. Ah… (sheepishly drops my kofi here)

Third question! How do i color!

I. I, uh. I dont know man the coloring demons have a grip on my soul and i just go along for the ride. But also, if it helps, i prefer to limit my pallets to only a few colors at a time. Lighting is king, so if you can figure out if you want to focus on either on your lights or shadows, you’ll have a much easier time composing. That, and symbolic colors— idk, something hits different about art drenched in gold with a tiny hint of a man staring into the blinding horizon, or a green leafy environment with a single dot of artificial red. I also like using blue and purple for shadows, and I’m a big fan of muting colors with only one or two that pop— one of the reasons why I was so attracted to submas in the first place is because from a design aesthetic, they’re both super funny muppet men AND really cool train guys that have a limited pallet and thematic apparel.

Overall response! THANK YOU SO MUCH. This goes out to a BUNCH of people who sent me inbox queries— sorry for not responding, it’s a tad overwhelming because some of them are story questions even I don’t really know will go yet, and others are words of praise and I’m selfish and like scrolling through the inbox to look at them when I feel down. I am more of an artist who sits in the corner and sprouts like a potato rather then a branching vine who socializes, but I really do see people’s responses and they make me go :)))))

Okay ramble over. Thanks for coming to the soapbox, and good luck on creating!

[satorusugurugurl]

hii may i request a pirate! Nanami x mermaid!f!reader?

Iike in the Disney movie "the little mermaid"? I think id be so cute 🥰

If u do this request, thank u ❤

My Lovely Mermaid

Summary: You're a curious mermaid, Nanami Kento is a book loving pirate, a match made in heaven.

Word Count: 2,738

Pairing: Pirate!Nanami Kento x AFABMermaid!Reader

Warnings: mentions of fire, near drowning, nudity, half-burnt (BUT HEALED) Nanami, fluffy goodness!

A/N: I love mermaid au’s, yes I was that girl at the pool asking if people wanted to play mermaids! 🤣 this was so fun, I loved writing for healed half burnt Nanami, I've seen fanart of him, and golly, so pretty.

You have been obsessed with the surface world for as long as you can remember. Humans were strange creatures and carried many strange items on their ships, from a little metal trident to jewels and round circular things with deep holes. They had papers bound together with netting of some kind, and the papers were littered with strange black smudges—weird but fascinating creatures.

You want to learn all about them, ask them what they use the sharp metal things for. Why do they carry trunks full of flat yellow metal? Every time you found yourself exploring a new shipwreck, more questions arose. You desperately wanted someone to answer all of the questions you had.

The only problem was the fact that humans were terrified of your kind. Whenever you’d breach the surface when a ship would pass, all of them would cover their ears, screaming not to listen to your singing. They were convinced that you would drown them. Such a terrible stereotype; you and your kind in these warm waters had never drowned sailors, or anyone else for that matter. Other mermaids in different waters might do that so that you could understand their concerning caution. If one of them would give you a chance, all your dreams would come true.

Little did you know your wish would

Come true on a beautiful summer night.

You had been lounging on some rocks, staring at the little trident you had found and the shipwreck down below. You ran through your damp hair as your tail flipped in the water, splashing the rock below. You were lost in a trance when shouting could be heard in the distance. You sat up, looking to find a red-orange glow in the distance, the lights consuming a ship as black clouds rose. The humans on board the vessel were screaming, jumping off the edge, climbing into smaller boats, and rowing away from the ship that was collapsing in on itself.

You wondered what sort of treasure you would find inside when a man in a small boat began fighting against two other humans trying to hold him back. “Nanami! Nanami! He's still on board, captain!”

“Haibara, stop!” a man with long black hair shouted, holding the man with short brown hair back.“There’s nothing we can do right now!”

“Kento!”

“We’ll circle.” The moonlight overhead shone on hair as white as the shells you collected. “Maybe he jumped off on the other side.”

The smaller boat began rowing around, calling for this ‘Nanami.’ As they turned, you watched a man run to the ship's edge. He looked down at the water. The beam above him cracked and snapped, and the red glow crept up.

“Look out!” you cried as if he could hear you from as far away. “Hey!” attempted to get his attention a second time as the beam began cracking, falling in his direction. “Look out!!” Leave your mouth as the beam snaps, falling towards the man with the color of sunlight.

The man turns to stare as you scream in horror, covering your mouth just as he manages to dodge it. No relief is found as a rope tangles around him, pulling him off the ship and dragging him under the surface. The second he hits it, you’re diving in after him. Your tail frantically moves against the waters as you search for the man. Amongst the ropes, boards of wood, and jewels, you spot the tangled ropes of the man on the ship's edge. Bubbles rose from his mouth and nose, and his eye twitched as he dragged further down.

You wouldn’t allow the ocean to clean his life. Not today. Gritting your teeth, you swim faster, grabbing his hand and pulling him up out of the dark blue abyss of the water. Untangling him out of the ropes, you swim behind him, hooking both your arms under his, dragging him up to the surface. When you breach the surface, you ensure his head is held above the water as you swim for the shore.

The waves rock against the sandy shore as you drag him to lie on the beach. It's at that moment that you were able to see him truly. His chest slowly rises and falls as he breathes. You brush back strands of his hair, gently running your fingertips over the eyepatch that covers his left eye. The entire left side of his body, from his head down to his hip, is covered in healed scars.

“So pretty.” You whisper, running your hand down my cheek. His head leans into your touch, making your heart flutter fast.

You stay like that, staring at the beautiful man until your tail dries and shifts into your legs. You lie there next to the stranger until the sun begins to rise. It was about that time when he groaned, turning his head to the side before he blinked slowly.

Nanami’s vision was blurry, blinking slowly. He was on warm, damp sand, and his head was pounding. He turned his head to the other side and stared at the knees of someone sitting near him. His eyes trailed up higher, cheeks burning as he stuttered and sat up, finding his knees belonging to a very naked and beautiful woman.

“Oh! You’re awake!” You chirped happily, tilting your head to the side and shifting your hair. “Thank goodness.”

“I’m sorry—I'm just a little confused.”

“Well, you were drowning, and I saved you.”

The man before you slowly nodded, averting his gaze from your direction. “Oh, thank you very much; I would like to thank you properly, but—“ His cheeks flushed pink. “You’re uhm—naked.” You hummed, glancing down at your naked body before shrugging your shoulders.

“Merfolk don’t have the need to wear clothes.”

Nanami has deduced that you weren’t exactly human when he first looked at you. Your ears were shaped differently, almost similar to what he’s seen in books depicting elves with a slight point. Your cheap bones were littered with glittering scales, and you had a starfish pulling some of your hair back. He had heard rumors about mermaids being in the ocean but had never seen them in person.

“Right, well uhm—“ he sighed, rubbing his hand down his face. “Hold on,” You watched as he took his shirt off before handing it to you. “I don’t want to be rude and stare. Even though you’re very beautiful and you have a very stunning body. I want to thank you properly for saving me, so if you don’t mind, could you put this on for a second?”

You took the white fabric from him, examining its sleeves and two openings. You slid it over your bare body the way you had seen him wearing it. The shirt was long on you, covering your torso, and the end rested against the top of your thighs. The sleeves were long, swallowing your hands as you flapped them around curiously.

Nanami finally turned to watch as you cutely moved your arms up and down. He watched as the sleeves of his shirt flapped with you. He grinned, turning to face you, sitting on his knees. You examined him briefly before getting into the same position, sitting on your knees so that you could stare at him.

“Thank you for saving my life.” He bowed his head, which quickly followed suit.

“It was my pleasure.” You went back to examine the shirt closely.

Nanami scoffed, shaking his head as he sat against the glittering sand in the rising sun. “My name is Nanami Kento, what’s yours.” You quickly told him your name, more eager to stare at the different stitching in the fabric you wore. “I would like to repay you for saving my life. I owe you a debt.” For the first time in your entire life, a certain sense of excitement washed over you like the warm summer waves. This was your chance to ask him your questions and get some answers!

“I have lots of questions about you humans.”

“Do you?”

“Mhmm, why do you guys carry mini tridents on all your ships?”

Nanami cocked a blonde brow at you. “Mini-tridents?” You held the finger up in front of him before reaching into the net bag you had made and pulled out the trident.

“These things.”

Nanami reached out with the most gentle smile on his face. “This is called a fork. We use it to eat food.” You allowed him to take this so-called ‘fork’ from you. “Watch.” He reached down, scooping some of the sand onto the fork. “This way, our hands don’t get dirty when we eat. We also use spoons and knives as well. But depending on the food or culture, utensils aren't used.” But you didn’t hear any of that because your eyes were sparkling with all as you watched him take the fork into the sand, picking it up before dumping it down onto the ground.

“Amazing!”

“What else would you like to know?”

“Oh, I have so many questions! Lik—“

“Nanami?!” Both of you turn, watching several men come running down the beach towards you. “Oh my god, Captain, it’s Nanami!!”

“Haibara!” There was a relief in Nanami’s tone, which had you smiling with a heavy heart. He had a life on the short to get back to you; he couldn’t just lie there and answer all of your questions. So you pulled the shirt off and handed it back to him. “Huh?” Looking down into his lap, he found his sweater and glanced up to watch as you walked towards the water, stepping into the crystal blue ocean. ���Wait! Where are you going?”

“Home.” You say, slowly sinking deeper into the water, feeling your legs shift back into your tail. “Your friends are here now. They’ll be able to get you home.”

Just before you can dive into the water, there’s a splash behind you, and Nanami grabs your hand to prevent you from leaving. “Answering one of your questions isn’t enough to thank you for saving my life. Could you come back here and meet me every day? I’ll be happy to answer any questions you have.” Your fingers interlace with his.

“I’ll meet you here tomorrow. How about when the sun is highest in the sky?”

“I’ll be here.”

Just like he promised every day when the sun was highest in the sky, you would meet him at the beach where he would be waiting for you. He always brought lunch for both and was more than willing to answer every question you had. You learned all about forks, spoons, and knives. Nanami told you that women like to wear jewels, and the flat yellow coins in their trunks, which you found at the bottom of the ocean, were used as currency to buy things like food or clothes.

When those questions were answered, Nanami began bringing books to the beach for you both to read. You’re so glad he did because You’ve learned all about different things: foods and far-off places. Every day, you would lie on the beach, reading with Nanami. He'd tell you stories of his days with the crew. Sailing the seas and fighting battles, he always did it with a fond but almost sad smile.

He loved his friends and his job defending people from the Pirates, who were horrible humans. Kenjaku and his gang of horrible people had plagued the ocean for so long. They were sinking ships, stealing money, and committing the most heinous of crimes. In the battle leading up to Kenjaku’s defeat, Nanami lost his eye, and half his body was burnt by a pirate named Mahito. At the same time, his voice and eye are full of pain. He claims that it was well worth it because, in the end, they were able to defeat them. Even though he was left with the scars for it.

“I suppose it's still taking me some time to get used to. People tend to stare.” He said as he stroked your hair back. “But, you never once questioned or made comments about it. Why is that? From the mermaid who has millions of questions, I thought that would be something you would be curious about.”

“Oh,” you looked up from your book, turning to face Nanami, “I just think you’re beautiful.”

His hand gently cups your cheek, holding it there. “And I think you're beautiful. A beautiful, strong mermaid who saved my life.” The distance between your lips gets smaller and smaller as he inches forward. “You know that you are far too kind?” You lean into his touch, nuzzling against the palm of his hand.

“I couldn't just idly sit by and watch someone die. I honestly believe there was a reason behind my lounging that night, and I'm glad that J was there because I got to meet you. You are so kind and handsome. You never think any of my questions are stupid or ridiculous.”

“Because they’re not. Do you have a curious mind, and I’m happy to feed that.”

Before your lips could touch, you pulled away. “I’m happy being with you,” you whisper, playing with the sleeves of Nanami’s shirt, which he always lets you wear when you lounged on the beach with him. “But uhm, Gojo mentioned that he has another ship lined up for you. That you should be able to get back to work soon.”

Nanami can see the disappointment in your eyes. You knew this day would eventually come. He wouldn’t stay on the beach with you forever, answering your questions and feeding the delicious food he prepared. He’d eventually go back to sailing the seas, and you would go back to exploring shipwrecks soon. This beautiful time together was going to be short-lived. Because how would you make this work?

A mermaid and a pirate being together. Because one saved the other from drowning, was there anything holding him here to be with you? For you both to continue meeting on this secluded beach outside his hometown. No, he had a life to get back to.

“Yeah, about that.” he gently grabbed the back of your head, pulling you close to his face. “I told Gojo that I was going to retire.”

“Retire?”

“Yes, it means I'm no longer going to work.” The way your pupils dilated and sparkled made Nanami’s heart soar. “I've made enough money to last me the rest of my life.”

You press your hands against his bare chest. “What do you plan on doing now?” Your voice is high-pitched as your breathing quickens in anticipation and excitement.

“Oh, the crew said they will help me build a house here on this beach. I plan to fill it with all the books I haven't read yet. Books that my curious mermaid can read. Because her curiosity and awe of the world is something I want to continue to fuel because I have fallen in love with every bit of her beauty, curious mind, and heart.”

“Kento,” you whisper, eyes flooded with liquid.

“May I kiss you? And so selfishly ask you to accept me as yours?” There were no questions to be asked. You closed the distance between you both, slamming your lips against his in a searing kiss. As Nanami hit the soft sand below, his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight against him.

A few years pass, and Gojo tracks down the beach with Suguru and Haibara. They had been kind enough to bring back gifts for you on their latest voyage: books, wine, and exotic fruit. The house you and Nanami had built stood tall, providing shade for you both. You lie in the sand holding each other as your daughter happily places a seashell on the pile of sand she deemed a castle.

“Ahoy there!” Haibara yells, drawing Nanami’s attention from the little wavy blonde girl clapping her hands together. “We brought treats!”

“Uncle Yu!!” Your daughter bolted for the group of men, throwing her arms around Yu’s leg and giggling as she stepped forward. Her hair flowed in the warm summer breeze, revealing her pointed ears. She might be a carbon copy of her father, but at least she got your ears.

Nanami watched from the shade, taking a deep breath before looking at the ocean. An ocean that had left him scarred almost drowned him and brought him to the best thing in his life. You plopped down next to him, stretching your arms above your head before your husband leaned down, kissing you softly. The ocean had brought you together. And he thanked it every morning for his lovely little mermaid wife and beautiful daughter.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

[zephyalle]

Fanfic Idea

Wade (after Vanessa broke with him somewhere between movie 2 and 3) is launched through dimension and time to land in the worst Wolverine’s universe eleven years in the past (one year before the massacre).

Apart from his small group of precious person, he would do everything to get back to them. But he is deadpool. And deadpool does what deadpool do. He gets distracted by the side quest.

He meet this world Vanessa who needs his help. Weasel who never open his bar. Dopinder never wooed his crush. Colossus never got rid of the broom shoved in his ass. And worse than all, blind Al live alone!

And since he’s there, he might as well go rescue Russel and the little orphans from the pedophile. And maybe keep Russel as a sidekick this time. (The first person he saves is a little girl name Ellie. He kills her aggressor right in front of her and has to console her. She didn’t want to get sent to the X-men. Wanted to stay with her savior, but she is too young. He give her his name and phone number. So if she gets in trouble with bad guys or has a bad dream, she can call him.)

Then he hears of an anti-mutant organisation and, well, he is between two jobs and bored as fuck. So he infiltrates the place, get engage, and the night of the attack at the X-men mansion, he is among the rank of the bad guy. After multiple interruption of the leader’s evil monologue, he starts shooting and slicing his former colleague, wreaking chaos among their rank.

His intervention, not that he or the X-men would know, save the life of multiple mutant, among them a little girl he now saved twice. When everything is done, she refused to leave his side and the X-men want some explanation. Wolverine goes home to a carnage.

Explanation happens, Wade sees Wolverine, gush and fanboy, remember about Project X and his like « Golly, I get to kill Francis twice! ». But the X-men aren’t too happy to let him leave to kill more people.

Wolverine is sent with him to supervise him. Wade talk, Wolverine loses his patience and attacks Wade in an Odyssey they had to steal for X reason. And during their mission, Logan discovers things about himself he didn’t want to know. Like how he quite like having someone indestructible as him near to spar with when his temperament gets the better out of him. Or how he likes having someone who is as dangerous as him near that doesn’t fear him, no matter how bad he can get. Or how he likes getting silly cutesy nickname that no one would dare to give him. He isn’t falling in love, but… he after the mission, he starts to get softer around Wade and lets him get away with things other would get mauled over for. But he still has lingering feelings for Jean (and Scott?) while Wade still has his for the Vanessa of his world.

Interlude for family stuff with Wade, Ellie and Russel, Logan getting to meet Vanessa blind Al and co. Wade meeting and getting on the nerve of the adult X-men while the children (some he saved) love him. Wolverine tries to run away from his feeling and gets tracked down by Wade because of course he does.

Now for the third movie: The TVA kidnaps Wade to convince him to work for them and he learns about the imminent destruction of his universe. But instead of wanting to stop it long-term destruction, he wants to stop the short term and accidentally enrolled the « worst » wolverine in the adventure. And while Logan isn’t broken by the destruction of his world, he is grumpy and snappy because he thinks Wade will leave them behind to go back to his original universe. The one he keeps talking about and ranting about how much he wants to go back. Blah blah blah void blah blah blah machine explodes. At the end, the TVA is getting ready to leave with Logan when Wade is like, « Wait; I want to go with you. » after realising that the world has gone on without him and his family is now in the other universe.

Logan, now certain that Wade will stay, let himself fully fell in love with Wade.

Cute interlude with more comfort and family stuff plus a Wolverine in love but uncertain of Wade feeling and fearing a repeating of previous crush, where he was only good for a good fuck and nothing else, while Wade is also in love but don’t want to ruin their friendship and is full of self-doubt about his personality and his appearance.

Then Logan learns that Laura exists in this universe. He has a daughter to save. In a character grow, he warns Wade where he is going and Wade decides to tag along.

I draw blank for the next part.

Difference that could be interesting to insert between the two worlds.

WD- Normal

LW – Soulmate mark (Logan knows Wade is his soulmate and thinks Wade is just not interested, which is why he says nothing about it, and is full of angst before learning to know Wade because, of course, his soulmate is a killer. What else would do for an animal like him) or ABO (Wade as a strong scent but no designation and can’t smell the pheromone around him which cause a lot of problems since it is a normal tool of communication among the population and add a lot of contexts to any given situation or conversation. Logan is an Alpha (my personal preference) and has a keener sense of smell than other. It drives him crazy (aggressively at first) to not be able to know Wade’s second gender.)

[aslightaddity]

Frothing at the mouth (read; relistening to falsettos) and love is blind is SUCH a song man.

The chorus being “Love is blind, love can tell a million stories, love’s unkind, spiteful in a million ways” compared to Marvin’s verse of “Love is crazy, love is often boring, love stinks, love is often debris, when you find what you find, the. Never never never never never do it over again.// love reads like a bad biography all the names are changed to protect the innocent”

Like good golly gosh that’s the most ironic part of the musical series. Like yes Marvin acknowledging his love life is shit (but not yet taking accountability for his shortcomings) and how little he really values love, how petty and mean love is to him. And in the first act that’s very clear but when we get into a day in falsetto land/act 2 despite his redemption and everything, love is still cruel to him even if it isn’t a self fulfilling prophecy this time. And it hurts.

And in a similar vein Whizzer plays fast and loose with his love and it’s when he’s finally sort of settling back in with Marvin his desires change, or at least come to light, “nothing is everything to me, except sex. And money.” (The chess game) v “all the stupid things I dream about” (you gotta die sometime). It goes from wanting basically a sugar daddy to wanting a proper lover and in the end having that leads to his end.

Love is blind in falsettos. Love does tell a million like 8 stories in falsettos. But is also unkind and spiteful in a million ways in falsettos.

[icedragonlizard]

What if dream friends had dialogue in Star Allies?

I suppose it could've been a lot of unnecessary work for HAL to do, but I still think it could be highly fun and imaginative to think about.

How cool would it be if the game's plot actually acknowledged the existence of the dream friends? The things they'd say in-game, etc...

I think it would be especially fun to think about what all the different dream friends might saying during the mage sister fights. Like, y'know, the points of the game where there's dialogue. What they all might say to the mage sisters in response to their words....

... I'm not going to go over what I think every dream friend would say in these moments, but I think I'd like to focus on ones such as Susie, Magolor, Marx, Taranza and Daroach. Why these ones in particular? Because I think they'd probably be the more entertaining ones in what they'd have to say in their dialogue during the mage battles.

How funny would it be that Marx and Magolor just troll the shit out of the mages? How funny would it be that Susie acts condescending when talking to them? How funny would it be that Taranza joke-flirts with them, he doesn't actually mean it as he's just doing it to get them riled up? How funny would it be that Daroach tells them to watch out before he steals from them? This stuff is fanfiction-worthy! Heck, this might be the biggest reason why I might attempt my adaptation of Star Allies into a fanfiction in the future, although I've got many other fics planned beforehand so it'd be a long while.

But still! There could be endless potential when thinking about this.

Let me demonstrate an example. First, let's look at the part where the game first introduces Flamberge, and she's really angry.

"HEY, YOU! Stubby little...pink thing! Yes, YOU! I have a buuuurning question for you! You're the one who was so rude to sweet Francisca, aren't you?! Don't you dare try to deny it!"

"Ohohohohohohoho! We sure put that crazy blue lady in her place! What are you gonna do about it? Throw a temper tantrum? Go so berserk that you lose control and we can easily beat you?"

Wanna guess who said that? Hahahaha... the purple text probably made it obvious. In this interpretation, it's Marx who said that. There's no way he wouldn't just totally mock them and rub it in their faces. At the very least in my interpretation of Marx, it'd be like him to do that.

And by the way, I'm one that actually headcanons Marx becoming friends with the mage sisters post-HiAD because he loves how chaotic they are, and loves that they're willing to join him in doing insane shit (especially Francisca). But during Star Allies when the mages were the enemy? I bet he totally mocked the shit out of them!

Magolor, too. Here's a good example of Magolor having dialogue against one of the mages:

"Bonjam. I am Zan Partizanne, the eldest of the three generals of magic."

"Woah... Zan what? I didn't hear that thoroughly! I think I'll call you Zan Parmesan Cheese, though!"

".... I absolutely HATE that you ended up getting my name more right than a lot of other fools have."

It'd be hilarious to see a lot of dream friends trying to say her name. All the different ways they could say it wrong.

Here's a Taranza example:

"This must be the fiery flames of fate at work! Ooooh yeaaaah! My flames and I are fully stoked now!"

"Golly, you're really hot, good ma'am!" with a trollish look on his face.

"... Excuse me? EXCUSE ME?"

"Hahahahahaha! Am I making you overheat too much, fool?"

I think Taranza deserves to be depicted as silly sometimes.

A Daroach example:

"We wish to assemble the dark Jamba Heart pieces that were scattered across the universe."

"Woah... you want them all? That's a big bummer! What if I want to steal some of them? Maybe I'll still do it out of spite, teehee!"

I hate the limited amount of colors allowed for tumblr posts. To make it clear, for this example, the blue text is Francisca while the red text is Daroach. While, of course, Flamberge was the red text in the examples with Marx and Taranza, while Magolor was the blue text in the example with Zan.

And now, let me demonstrate a couple examples with Susie. I think she'd delightfully fire off on them like the feisty cheeky woman she is.

"I shall now turn this pink ball of nice into a frozen block of ice!"

"No you won't. This 'pink ball of nice' is a force of pure destruction, and you're going to defrost by daring to harm the universe with all of this insolent nonsense. You must be destroyed!"

"... Very well. But I won't go down without a fight, so you best watch out that you all might become ice sculptures this time. I can more than make sure of it!"

"We will more than make sure to obliterate you, just like the rest of your barbaric cult! Let's put her in her place, Pinky!"

Susie example with Zan:

"I did not expect you to survive your visit to Jambastion."

"You thought that would've gotten us? Pfft! We've all been through worse than that. You're going to have to try harder than that if you really want to eliminate us for good."

"Really, you survived worse? Well, that doesn't matter, because your luck has run out."

"No. Your luck has run out. We're going to exterminate all of you like the savages you are!"

This works out well with my interpretation that Susie's Japanese SA pause description containing the words "exterminate the savages!" is referring to the Jambastion cult when they were still the enemy. I headcanon that she's slowly in the process of unpacking baggage, and "savages" is just a thing she calls people she views as enemies.

And uh... to be honest, the cult kind of deserved to be called words like that during Star Allies when they were threatening everything.

I've done a lot of examples of a few dream friends having dialogue during the mage battles. But what about when confronting Hyness?

I think all the dream friends would be horrified at the moments that Hyness knocks Zan out of the way, weaponize all three mage sisters' bodies in his second phase of the fight, and then sacrificing them and himself to Void Termina. It would make them just flabbergasted.

Although I bet Marx would probably laugh at how unhinged he is.

"It seems... we do not have enough energy... to revive our Dark Lord... Must we... allow ourselves... to fall... into oblivion?"

"Yes, you should do that!"

"No."

"Yes."

"NO!"

"YES!"

"No no no no no!"

"Yes yes yes yes yes!"

"*goes on his giant unhinged rant*"

"*laughs hysterically* Look at you go off! It's hilarious!"

Marx is just... lmao.

Sorry that I don't have examples with every dream friend having dialogue in this post. But you get the general idea! Perhaps if you have ideas as to what the other dream friends could say in these moments, feel free to mention them in the notes!

Although I'll leave you here with a King Dedede example, just cuz:

"For what you've done, I'll scorch you to such a degree that... that... even tasty, toasty marshmallows will seem like ice cubes compared to you!"

"You ain't gonna be scorchin' any of us, ya hot fiery slimeball! We'll put you in your place like we did to the blue look-a-like of ya!"

Hahaha... ha... I interpret southern accent Dedede. Sue me.

Thanks for reading the post if you did! Let me know about more ideas of dream friend dialogue you have in the notes. I'd be curious what else you think in this broad, interesting concept.

[liluchunnies]

I was ranting to my friend about mha being my new fixation and how I’m relapsing to that LIKE MHA IN 2024 that’s gotta be a new low for me😭✊

I was telling them how I miss 2020 mha because I REALLY LIKED WHEN WE HC THE LOV TO BE A FAMILY BEFORE SHIT GOT SERIOUS💔💔💔

And then I said smith like ‘I miss villain deku’ so I proceeded to go on an entire analysis as to why and how villain deku was made and looking back it, I decided to post it cuz this shit is way too funny.

SO ENJOY!! (this is like half satire)

♡♡♡ ♡♡♡ ♡♡♡ ♡♡♡ ♡♡♡

Okie so basically: U might think 'what does bkdk have to do anything with it?' Ya u've probably heard of it and say it was popular ERRR WRONG it was deemed toxic in the earlier seasons of the show since bakugo bullied deku in middle school and was still kinda an ass to him (it was only in like s5-s7 where bkdk became MUTUAL and had themes like loyalty and friendship surround it)

So whats that gotta do with v.deku?? There was a specific line bakugo said to deku which was "go take a swan dive off the roof and pray you're born with a quirk in your next life" so people wanted to be like "u know what this dude's life is so bad he needs to be a villain" and thats exactly what they made him (background of the context: deku was born quirkless so he's ostricized from the others and ur gonna say "hows a quirkless person gonna be a villain" deku's like REALLY smart he's a nerd who literally analyzes everyones quirk and has every single detail of it on his ntbk

And another plot hole they can add is making all might say a different thing:

(Background of the context: All Might is a famed hero and is, not surprisingly, also deku's fav hero so of course he looked up to him.

In canon, deku was saved by all might and thats when deku asks him "can i be a hero too even without a quirk" i forgot the specific details about it but he's basically made into all might's successor and that gave him a fighting chance)

Going back to the idea now:

In v.deku au, instead of encouraging deku, all might crushes his dreams and tells him "naw dawg u cant be a hero ur a quirkless loser" and thats another way they can diverge from the canon while still maintaning some aspects of the original to support their au

In most v.deku aus, he joins the LOV (league of villains) and sometimes in gacha vids, him and shigaraki are siblings

(Background of the context: in canon, all might passes down his quirk to deku which is called "One for All" now this quirk originated from a single person atleast 9 generations ago. That bitch had a brother who's quirk was stealing other ppl's quirk and he's like the main antag so the good brother was like "yo i wont let u do that" and wow golly gee wilikers guess what the evil bro's name is?? All for one which is just OFA but reversed.

So what does that have to do with deku and shigaraki?? If deku is all might's successor, shigaraki is AFO's successor. Also transferring or passing down quirks can like tie the past and present conscious of the users.

BUT! THATS NOT ALL!! Thats actually partly canon already and was used later in the series AFTER that fact was revealed!!

The actual popular reason/theory is that AFO is deku's dad and since AFO adopted shigaraki, that would mean deku and shigaraki are half-siblings)

Afo being deku's dad is STILL a popular theory till this day

omg I can’t forget about their matching red shoes

♡♡♡ ♡♡♡ ♡♡♡ ♡♡♡ ♡♡♡

No way am I taking this more seriously than my actual essays for school😭✊

[cartoon0bssesedb1tch]

My angel ♡︎

Lucifer x fem! Fallen angel! reader

Summery: Lucifer and reader have been friends since Lucifer was still in heaven but sadly separated when he fell. What happened when the two are reunited but reader has experienced something that concerns Lucifer.

!Warnings!: sexual assault , bullying, abuse, violence . Also Adam’s a dick. (If you like him I’m sorry it just felt right to the story)

A/n: hii! So this the first time I’m writing something here in a while so I hope you enjoy this! XDDD

𖦹

Freedom.

That’s what she felt when she fell.

She felt free to speak her mind and not be judged, she felt free to agree with him…Lucifer.

Although, the two shared the same dream, (y/n) decided to stay quiet since she was scared of the seraphims and was scared to also be like him, fallen.

But it changed when Lucifer’s daughter came for a meeting in heaven.

*𝑭𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌*

“Oh my goodness! It’s you!”

Charlie heard behind her right before she entered the room for the meeting in heaven. She saw an angel, who looked oddly familiar to her.

“Wait? You know me?” She asked. “Well, of course, being the daughter of the king of hell gives you quite the impression up here” the angel said while smiling but stopped when she saw the worried look on Charlie’s face.

“Oh no! Not in a bad way! Well, at least not for me, I always knew that Lucifer’s daughter will more like him.”

The younger demon sighed in relief “ oh that’s good- wait you know my dad? Like personally?” She asked.

“Oh I’m so sorry! Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself, my name is (y/n).”

‘(Y/n)… that’s right! That was dad’s best friend when he was in heaven!’ Charlie thought. “Wait- so you don’t hate him?”

Hate him? She could never hate him.

“Heavens no! He was my best friend, my only friend actually…” (y/n) said. “How is he? I heard about the divorce, it must tough for him…”

“He’s fine? I honestly don’t know… when he’s around he seems all cheery but I notice that it’s not really… sincere, you know? As if he’s trying to mask his feelings just to make others feel better.” Charlie said sadly.

(Y/n) sighed “I wish I was there to help him…”. The two stood in comfortable silence as if a mother and a daughter would. “Oh golly! Look at the time! You don’t wanna be late for the meeting, now do you?” She said while slightly pushing Charlie to the doors of the room. “I hope the meeting goes well, Charlie. I’ll see you inside” (y/n) said right before Charlie goes in.

She stood there in silence, and disappointment not at Lucifer or Charlie.

But herself that she couldn’t even be by his side at his lowest.

He still is her best friend…

… And first love…

Almost tearing up she stood in front of the door to the meeting room until…

“Heya babe, whatchu doing here?!”

Adam.

The one person she despises most.

“Are you fucking crying?! That’s hilarious! Well what are crying about hmm?” He asked with fake sympathy in his voice.

“It’s non of your business” she said.

“Yeah probably about that guy that literally fallen from heaven just to not to see your face” he said

Although she never took his words seriously, this one really hurt.

“Well you know I can satisfy you in ways that guy wouldn’t even think of” he said while putting his hand on her waist.

It got lower and lower…

“Please stop-“

“Adam” the voice of Sera the head seraphim was heard. And immediately his hand left her body. “The meeting is starting”

“Yeah right we were just going in” he said. He waited for the seraphim to go inside. When she did he didn’t hesitate but throw a punch right in the angel’s face.

“You fucking bitch! You really want sera to fucking think of me as the bad guy huh?! Well, next time it won’t be just your face you’ll have to cover” he said while going inside the room.

She sat there yet again in silence. She took out a pocket mirror that she had and some foundation.

Because it was not the first time …

* 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 *

When she fell felt even happy to out of there.

Until she hit the ground breaking her wings and most of the bones in her body.

She saw shades of red in the sky and was the last thing she saw before she fell unconscious

Lucifer’s pov:

I was in my office sorting some paperwork I don’t even know what it was, until I heard something crash.

Or rather someone…

I rushed outside since I can’t just leave the person alone to suffer.

The first I saw was wings. White, beautiful wings, although cover in blood since they were injured. The blood was gold that meant one thing.

It was an angel. A fallen angel.

I quickly went to check the angel’s other injuries so I turned them around only to find out…

It was (y/n)… my best friend from the beginning of time. My (y/n)… wait what was I thinking she probably met some tall hunk while I was out of heaven.

I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on helping (y/n). I took her to my room and carefully laid her on my bed.

Thankfully she was breathing and was starting to heal since angels can heal faster. (a/n: idk if it’s actually real but for the sake of the plot k go with it )

What did she do to fall? She was always so kind to everyone and was cautious not to talk too loudly about things that were forbidden by the seraphims.

What happened?

No one’s pov:

The first thing she felt when waking up was pain in her back specifically her wings.

When she opened her eyes she was confused and also scared because she didn’t recognize the room she was in. She groaned in pain while trying to get up.

“Oh no no no don’t do that, they’re still healing, you should rest” that voice.

The voice she loves oh so much. It was him.

“Lucifer?” She asked while her eyes are filling up with tears. Even though it hurt and she really shouldn’t do that, she didn’t care. She got up as fast as she could and wrapped her arms around him, crying in his chest.

Those were tears of happiness and relief that she finally got to see him again.

“Hey it’s okay, I’m here shh don’t cry” he told her in the softest tone ever as if she would break if he had spoken any louder.

“Im just- I’m so happy to see you” she said while looking up at him smiling through her tears.

“I’m really happy to see you too, sweetheart, but seriously you should rest. You still aren’t fully healed .” He said while picking her up and gently laying her down on the bed. “You know, I was really worried you wouldn’t wake up.”

“What? How long was I asleep?” She asked genuinely confused.

“It was only a couple of days, don’t worry. But my back did start to hurt because I was sleeping on the couch” wait what.

Then she realized, it was his room. And that was the way he saw her for the first time in eons, she probably looked terrible. That brought tears to her eyes yet again.

“I am so sorry, lucifer. I-I didn’t mean-“ she was cut of by her own sob while Lucifer quickly went to comfort her.

“Hey shh it’s okay. Really, I don’t care if i break my back, I just want you to feel better.” He said while holding her close to him.

Boy he really did miss this.

Eventually (y/n) calmed down and said “well I’m glad that you’re the one that found me and not some random weirdo on the street”

He laughed softly. “Yeah well I’m glad as well. Speaking of finding you, why exactly are you here?”

* 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 *

“Are you fucking kidding me?” (Y/n)’s voice was heard in the meeting room.

“(Y/n) use proper language-“ the head seraphim was cut off the angel’s enraged voice.

“I don’t give a flying FUCK about the language. But extermination of human souls just like us. What is wrong with you?!” She exclaimed.

“Ooh the nice little girl is getting feisty ” Adam said sarcastically.

“And YOU! You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself. If i were to decide, you would be in hell in no time” she said to him.

“Careful or else-“

“Or else what? You will throw me to hell? To me it seems much more nicer than here. If you gonna do it, knock yourself out. Go fuck yourselves, all of you.”

* 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 *

“You really did that?” Lucifer asked shocked. He never thought that (y/n) can even say curse words.

“Yeahh… well now I’m here.” She said smiling at him lovingly.

Lucifer’s pov:

I’ve missed her so much. Her voice, her eyes everything about her.

God I love her…

“Wait what”

Shit. I said that out loud.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckkkk Lucifer calm down breathe in ,breathe out. SHIT NO how can i mess up this badly already. I mean she just got here and you’re telling her that you’re so stupid why did you do tha-

“I love you too, Lucifer”

“What.”

No one’s pov:

“I love you too, ever since you left heaven I realized that more and more everyday but I also knew I could never be with you. You were in hell and I was up there in heaven also you were with lillith-“ (y/n) was cut off by Lucifer after he calmed down from his internal panicking.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, because now you’re here with me and nobody is going to change that” he said while leaning, glancing at her lips until their lips touched.

It was something that both of them wanted for a long time and it’s finally happening.

His hand went to cup her cheek and the other one went to her waist.

But then she flinched way.

She wrapped her arms around herself, almost as if protecting herself from something.

Lucifer did know what caused this or why was this happening but he knew he had to help.

He went closer to her but not touching her to not trigger her even more. “(Y/n), my love, it’s me, it’s okay” he said trying calm her down.

She looked up at him. She was scared. But why?

When she saw it was him, she started to clam down “I’m sorry it’s just something that happened u-uhm it was-“

“Love, it’s okay you don’t need to explain if you don’t want to. I just want you to know that I will never do anything to hurt you. I love you and I mean it.” He said softly. “Darling, is it okay if I hug you?”

She nodded and was immediately wrapped in a warm hug.

She realized she was safe, with Lucifer, finally.

☆

[neverchecking]

I come to you with not just a request but a challenge koridai x reader nsfw with a side of breeding kink please, I dare you.

(Honestly just do what you can I want to see if someone can make nsfw with koridai, like in general and I believe in your skills) (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

nhhh you guys understand that I can't back down from a challenge , >:( /J

Smut so MDNI! 18+

Everyone go thank @angry-trashcan for making this 10x more painful. Enjoy :D

Smut CW: Breeding Kink, Ko*idai, I kept it G/N but there is talk of trapping reader with a baby. I never confirm if it is possible with Ko*idai's partner though.

"Golly."

There weren't enough words in the Hyrulean language to describe the pure, unfiltered bliss he was feeling. From the buzz deep down in his toes to the mindless feeling of mindless lust clouding any and all rational thought in his soupy brain right now.

All he knew was that you were such a sight to behold. The sheen of your skin as sweat dripped down in salty pearls down every curve of your flesh glowed in the limited last, casting your form in a heavenly glow so perfectly suited for you. Anything painting you as the divine deity he knew you to be suited you.

Golden Goddess above, even the shine of your eyes, watching him as you sunk down his shaft only to raise yourself up once more has him shaking in want. His arms were already locked around your back, feeling the heat pulsate off of your flushed skin, as your own hands laid on his shoulders, pushing down with every move you made or letting up to let you sink back down. It was a continuous rhythm you picked up for yourself. Something that kept him yearning for more but placated enough he wouldn't dare disobey your command.

Who was he to do so anyway?

He was nothing more than a servant to your demand. Your glorious decree.

"I really, really need you to stop talking." You panted, raising one of your hands to comb through his bands, pushing them back before using them to pull his head back. Your eyes were half-lidded as you stared down at him, daring him to speak back to your demand. Why would he ever dream of such a thing? "You sometimes ruin the mood."

He understood that his language was a bit more...primitive when considered against the other males traveling in your caravan, but who had you, bouncing on his lap, spreading a fiery trail down his back with your every touch? Not them. Who had the privilege of feeling your lips on his ear, gently sucking on the shell of it before taking it between your teeth?

Him.

"Golly, Y/N," He stuttered, squeezing you closer. "You do feel so good."

You groaned around his ear, hips stuttering for a second before picking up your pace once more. That only had to mean good things, right? You had to have enjoyed his talking more than you let on. That had to be the only reason.

"Makes me wanna give you some babies." He purred, trailing his hands up your sides. You burrowed your face further into his neck, shifting from steady bounces to grinding with him still buried deep inside you. "Would you like that? Me filling you up, making you such a perfect parent?"

His grip around your hips tightened, rocking you back and forth before shifting you to move up and down once again. What a beautiful idea that was. Filling you with his kids. You would make such a pretty house spouse!

He had spent far too long getting his heart broken by undesirable scum he foolishly thought could fill a hole in his heart. Too long listening to them spit out some pathetic excuse of "Their dog just suddenly died" or "I forgot to fold some dishes" only for them to disappear out of his life.

Phewee with that! He had no care for them these days anyway. Not when he had you! Effervescent you. Who he would never let go.

You were never leaving him now. He wouldn't let you! And you wouldn't be able to pull away from him. No. He was far stronger than you with the power glove, so he could easily out-do you physically. Any magic you could think to throw at him, he could easily turn right back around on you! And, while he portrayed a dimmer persona, he could see far beyond any silly plan you could come up with.

Might as well cut it all out before it has the chance to lay roots!

His hands moved your own hips faster, up and down, over and over again, all but dropping you back onto his lap before picking you up once more to repeat the process.

It was such a euphoric feeling, making his gut tighten as your clung onto him for dear life, pushing him to lay back on the bed as his hips took over the movements for him. "Golly- Gee, Y/N!"

Your groan barely resonated in his ears before he was stilling, cock buried as deep as he could go, and holding you in place.

"GOLLY-"

You shouldn't have been surprised when the arms around your back went slack, Koridai quickly falling asleep under you before he could even pull out.

Should've slept with Legend instead.

(Y'all are lucky I left out the "Koridai moans out his own name" bit Bailey and I came up with >:()

[spaceyaceface]

Wow your prompts are so good 😖 can I request either 1 or 20? I prefer Ominis for these prompts but you can do Sebastian too, whichever you like 😁 Thank you!

My pal I also prefer Ominis, so this works out nicely :) I decided to go with 20 because golly gee do I love little love sick Ominis. Also this one kind of got away with me because I was thinking about it the whole time I was at work and it basically turned into its own oneshot, oops. I'm actually extremely proud of this ahhh

20 - "it hurts me, just how much i ache for you."

Warnings: None :)

Link to prompt list

He couldn't help but think that perhaps coming to the reunion had been a mistake. Ominis had never been one for crowds; they could be difficult to navigate, given his blindness. He also was just not much of a people person. But even so, he found himself seated at a table in the Three Broomsticks, five years after he graduated Hogwarts.

Various people came to greet him here and there, stopping to ask how he was, how his job in Muggle relations was going. Each was just as polite as the next, but every time, he couldn't help but hope... well, he couldn't help but hope it was her.

If he was honest, she was why he came in the first place. He was still holding onto hope that she would be there, that he could here her voice---even just for a short greeting. It was pathetic, but he craved it.

In the five years since they had graduated, they had corresponded only in letters. She was off traveling, trying to discover more about her ancient magic. For a while he had hoped that the separation would allow his unachievable dreams to fade. But time had only made the ache in his heart grow stronger.

He clutched the long-since empty glass in his hands. Why had he dared to get his hopes up---even if she did come, what good would it have done?

But a voice stirred him from his thoughts.

"Ominis!"

It was like a wave of cool water had come over him, the sound giving him new life. He sat straighter in his chair, saying her name as he smiled.

She didn't hesitate before sitting beside him, nor did she hesitate before throwing her arms around him in a warm embrace. His eyes widened for a moment before he returned the action, savoring the feel of her finally so near. The scent of her perfume invaded his every thought, tainting them with fond memories of their time in Hogwarts. The time he had fallen so madly in love with her.

She pulled away, but kept her hand on his shoulder. "I've missed you more than you could imagine."

He almost laughed at her words. Did she really think she could compete with the longing for her he felt each and every second? Even so, he smiled. "I've missed you, too. Your letters, however wonderful they are, weren't enough."

This was the truth---but only a small portion of it. How could mere words, no matter how kind or telling they were, amount to the warmth of her hand on his arm? How could they compare to the brush of her skirt against his knee, or the musical tone of her voice?

She laughed. "Tell me, old friend, how are you doing?"

The conversation flowed like the years had never passed. For a while, Ominis was afraid she would share the same pleasantries his other peers had, and move on. But as the night continued, it became clear that was not her intention. As popular as she had been in school, other classmates approached the pair of them, asking how she was on her adventures, and in turn doing the same with Ominis. There were ample opportunities for her to leave with another, to spot someone else across the room and bid him farewell. But she didn't.

Instead, she sat by his side the entire night, letting her chair scoot closer inch by inch as she moved to hear him better over the noise of the inn. Soon, it wasn't just her skirt that tickled him---it was the whole of her leg, nearly pressed into him.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt her breath on his ear as she spoke softly to him. "I think I've talked to everyone I care to. Do you think we could take a walk outside?"

It was no surprise to him when he readily accepted her offer.

Together, they strolled through the dark streets of Hogsmeade. They were arm in arm, and her warmth felt all the more inviting in the cool of the night. He didn't bother taking out his wand---he trusted her. She was the only guiding light he needed.

They came to stop at the end of the path where an overlook laid. She sighed, resting her head against his arm. He had gotten taller in their time apart.

"It was nice seeing everyone again," she said.

"Yes," Ominis replied. It had been nice. But really, this was much better---time with her, away from the crowds.

"I didn't realize how much I had missed this place," she said softly. "I'm glad I'm coming back."

"You... You're coming back? For how long?" Ominis asked. Don't get your hopes up, you fool.

"Forever, maybe."

He swore his heart stopped. His throat felt dry.

She must have felt him stiffen up, because she lifted her head off her shoulder to look at him. "Ominis? Are you alright? You're not... disappointed to hear that, are you?"

"No, I'm fine, it's... it's the opposite, really. I... how do I explain this?"

He gently unlinked their arms, but traced his hand down her wrist, taking hold of her hand. Their fingers intertwined without a thought. He took a deep breath---it felt shakier than he would have liked. "For five years I have wished I had the courage to beg you not to leave. To tell you how desperately I need you with me. For five years, I have tried and failed to love you even a fraction less than the day before. It never worked."

He could feel his heart racing---or was that her pulse?---In the palm of his hand. They had stepped closer together. The distance, as small as it was, still felt like too much.

"I wanted to call you home to me, but how could I cut off those beautiful wings of yours? I convinced myself I could live with the pain of letting you be free." His head angled down, and he could feel her breath fanning against his face. The hand not holding hers came to rest on her cheek, fingertips grazing the back of her head, tangling with her hair. He felt the gentle weight of her palm come to rest on his chest. Her nose brushed gently against his own, and as he whispered, his lips ghosted over hers. "It hurts me, just how much I ache for you."

He wasn't sure who had made that last motion, the one that finally allowed him the feel of her lips on his. It didn't matter---nothing else mattered outside warmth of their kiss, the way he pulled her desperately closer with the hand in her hair, her fingers gripping at the fabric of his shirt as if her very life would end if they ever moved apart.

Finally, when their lungs screamed for air, the separated, ragged breath tangling between them. She rested her forehead to his. "I've flown home, my love," she whispered. "And I never intend to leave again."

[writing-intheundercroft]

Your Ivy Grows // House of Gaunt

AO3 Link

Summary: Ominis Gaunt cannot see, but he can feel. He can feel the tall thickets of grass outside of his Aunt Noctua's house, now his for the summer. He can feel the sand down by the beach, the water of the tide pools, the overgrown ivy in Noctua's beloved garden. Most importantly, he can feel the gentle brush of his house guest's hand against his as they take their daily walk. He fears that he may feel much, much more for his new house guest.

Word Count: 6,745

Chapter Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, oral sex F!receiving, vaginal sex NSFW, MDNI

“Are you ready?”

Ominis wasn’t ready to answer her question quite yet.  He squeezed his eyes tight, taking in a deep breath.  He hoped they wouldn’t be gone for long, but he couldn’t fight the twisting feeling deep down in his stomach.  Something told him no matter how their trip to London went, things might not be the same upon their return. So, Ominis took his time memorizing the house in its current state.  He wanted to remember everything as it was–the fresh, salty sea air, the earthy smell of the garden wafting in the breeze.  Afternoons spent basking in sunlight, laying in the lush grass while his companion trimmed the ivy. 

Of all the things Ominis would miss, it would be the freedom the old seaside manor provided the young couple that he would long for the most.

Not long after Marvolo’s howler had destroyed itself, a thestral drawn carriage bearing the Gaunt family crest arrived.  Golly had pointed out the carriage in the front drive of the house, anxiously drumming her hands against neck.  Of course, Ominis could not see them, nor could his houseguest.  Sebastian, giving a weary sigh, confirmed the arrival of the winged beasts.  The house immediately descended into chaos.  Golly, still trembling, made her way upstairs to pack their trunks.  His houseguest trailed behind her, trying to appease the house-elf’s worries.

Sebastian and Ominis stood in the study, listening to the commotion upstairs.

“Can’t put it off any longer,” Sebastian said quietly. “You’re going to ask him for her hand, aren’t you?”

“It’s our only option.” Ominis put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I…I want to thank you for trying.”

“I won’t stop,” Sebastian warned him. “There’s got to be another way.”

“While I admire your tenacity, Sebastian, I’m not sure we have time for your plan.” Ominis sighed. 

His only solution was to beg his brother for her hand in marriage, and if that failed…

No, Ominis thought. He wouldn’t even dream of it. 

Within the hour, Golly had strapped in their trunks, she and Sebastian watching the couple anxiously as they departed the front drive.  The thestrals picked up their pace, cantering down the gravel drive until they reached a high enough speed to take flight.  Ominis’s hand flew down to hers as the carriage rocked, squeezing it tightly.

“Taking off is always the worst part.” he said sheepishly, patting his brow.

She sidled up to him, a curl brushing his cheek. “I figured it would be.” she mused. “How long until we’re in London?”

“Give or take an hour or two,” Ominis sighed. “And while I’d love to spend the entire time holding you,” he said, slipping a finger under her chin, “we should probably get a few things straight.”

“Like what?” she asked, tilting her head.

Ominis chewed the inside of his cheek. He let his finger trail upwards, the pad of his thumb brushing over her lips. He groaned when she parted them, taking a deep sigh. “For starters, we probably shouldn’t do that around my brother.  Anywhere in the house, really.  We shouldn’t even be near one another.”

Even without his wand out, he could sense her deflate, pulling away from him. “We could be sneaky–”

“The word doesn’t exist at my brother’s house.” Ominis grumbled. 

“But the night of the ball–” she argued, Ominis pressing another finger to her lips.

“While a fond memory, it was a lapse in judgment.  We’re lucky there were plenty of distractions the night of the ball, and we nearly got caught then.” he reminded her. “Marvolo will have his eyes on us when it’s just family in the house.”

He could feel the way her shoulders bowled over. “Fine,” she grumbled. “A week without touching you.  I think we’ll survive.”

“I can’t say the same for myself.” Ominis admitted.

She chuckled quietly, which brought some relief to him. “What else should I be mindful of?” she asked.

Ominis sighed. “You should be wary of my sisters. They’re normally lingering about the house, and they always have a trick up their sleeves.”

“Sisters.” she said slowly. “What are they like?”

Ominis rolled his eyes, leaning his chin into his knuckles. “Cedrella, Dorcas, and Apolline.” he drawled. “The worst.  When they’re not gossiping about their friends, they’re complaining about their husbands. I can’t blame them, they’re all cretins, but still.”

“Oh come on,” she argued. “Your sisters can’t be so awful.”

Ominis hardened his jaw. “Cedrella never cared much for me in the first place–she and Marvolo were already off at Hogwarts by the time I was born.  The other two…well, I would’ve thought we had a close relationship, until they cast the cruciatus curse on me as a child.” he said bitterly.

“Oh.” she whispered, her voice small and quiet. “I…I didn’t know.”

“You couldn’t have, I didn’t tell you.” Ominis said gently. “They’re why I detest the unforgivable curses, and the dark arts in general.”

“So, I shouldn’t trust your sisters.” She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Ominis fiddled with his wand. “Don’t trust my sisters,” he echoed.

“Who else will be there?” she asked.

“I doubt anyone else,” Ominis grumbled. “Most of the time my parents stay at the manor.  My father is harmless enough at this point–he’s been senile for years.  My mother mostly stays with him, so you won’t have to worry about her.”

“What of Marvolo’s wife?” 

Ominis shrugged. “My sister-in-law doesn’t particularly enjoy his company, so she stays at the manor with my parents while Marvolo has his fun.”  The word came out viciously. “I’m sure one of his many mistresses will be there.”

“I wonder what they’re like,” she mumbled.

“A rotating door of ladies,” Ominis rolled his eyes. “Except for his favorite, Araminta Malfoy.  She’s the one you saw at the ball–his most regular companion. They were lovers when they were in school.”

“Why didn’t he marry her?” she asked.

“I was very young, so I don’t remember it exactly,” Ominis admitted. “There was a terrible argument over it, though.  I think there was a rumor that one of her cousins had gone soft, and they’d thought he was a squib.  Father was worried it might dilute our bloodline, so he forced Marvolo to marry a Lestrange instead.”

She was quiet for a moment; Ominis could almost hear the gears ticking in her head as she thought. 

“She must really love him.” she mused. “To put up with it.”

Ominis rolled his eyes, tilting his head against the cool glass. “I doubt either of them are all that emotional.  It’s hard to imagine my brother feeling anything at all, really.”

“I’m not talking about your brother.  I know firsthand that he’s deficient in that department. But imagine being someone’s mistress for that long. Gods, I’d hate it.  Never fully belonging to someone the way you want to.” she said wistfully. “Think I’d rather be put out of my misery than live half a life, you know?”

Ominis paused, ruminating over her sentiment.  He never wanted to feel any sympathy towards his brother or his mistress. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”  

She didn’t say anything else; his companion merely tangled her fingers with his, her head leaning against his shoulder.  He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her hair.

“We would never be like that, would we?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Never.” Ominis declared.  The carriage dipped as the thestrals adjusted in the air; his companion slid even closer to him, hugging him closely. 

“I’ll have to be indifferent towards you when we’re there.  At least until I can get Marvolo alone to ask him.” Ominis swallowed thickly at the thought. “But I just want you to know that I don’t mean it.  The way I act, the disinterest…you know I could never feel that way towards you.” Ominis reassured her.

“I know.” She murmured, pressing a longing kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I know.”

Somehow, that didn’t reassure him.

Ominis had always hated the London house.  He’d never spent much time there as a child; his parents were embarrassed to have their blind son out around their society friends, punting him off to Noctua instead.  By the time Ominis was old enough to hold his own at society events, Marvolo had taken over the house as his main residence.  He’d filled the Gaunt’s London abode with his collection of magical artifacts, and allowed his pet snakes to roam freely.  

While the luxurious furnishings and decor were enough to impress wizarding society, Ominis knew better. The rugs were worn and fraying, artwork borrowed or stolen. Thanks to Marvolo’s many raucous social gatherings, the carpets were damp and smelled of stale firewhiskey. 

“I don’t remember it looking like this during the ball,” his companion whispered.  She trailed behind him, gingerly slipping past the cluttered hallway.

“Marvolo is quite talented at hiding away the mess he’s made,” Ominis grunted.  “I dare not ask how he’s paid for half of these artifacts. He has all the house-elves work overtime to spruce the place up in time for a party.”

It was a short trek to the ballroom; Marvolo sat atop his makeshift throne, his mistress Araminta seated at his feet like she had been at the ball. Ominis could sense the presence of his sisters, scattered around the room.  Cedrella was sitting next to the window, paying them no attention whatsoever, while Dorcas and Apolline quietly sewed.  As expected, none of their husbands were present.

“My dear baby brother,” Marvolo mused, tapping his chin. “Finally well enough to travel. I do hope our friend here was of some help during your illness.”

“Yes,” Ominis feigned. “She was a great help.”

“Come forward, girl.” Marvolo barked.  

Ominis awkwardly stepped to the side, his houseguest tiptoeing forward.  

“You look very nice in the clothes I bought you.” Marvolo said haughtily. “It appears you do have a lovely shape, after all. Doesn’t she, Araminta?”

“She does,” Araminta declared in her syrupy sweet voice. “Very pretty.”

Ominis gritted his teeth, clenching a fist behind his back. 

“Thank you, I suppose.” she muttered, feet pattering backwards. 

“I hope you weren’t too bored,” Marvolo droned on, “stuck with Ominis.  Although it can’t have been that bad–you look well recovered, brother.” There was a hint of suspicion to his voice, but it melted away as a house elf tiptoed into the room.

“Tea is prepared, sir.” the house-elf squeaked. “And Binky will start working on scrubbing the hallways down right away.”

“Take care not to damage anything whilst you’re cleaning,” Marvolo barked at the house-elf. “And make sure to lock the cellar door before everyone arrives tomorrow.” he stood, his chair scraping the marble floor. “Girls, please show our guest to her room.  Ominis, care to join us for tea in the garden?  I have to send an owl first, but Araminta can escort you.”

“Of course. Thank you,” Ominis said awkwardly.  He could hear his sisters accosting his companion, pulling her away.  

“Come along, Ominis.” Araminta said, appearing at his side.  Her voice was slightly hoarse, missing the sickly sweet tone she adopted whenever Marvolo was near. She slid her arm through the crook of his elbow, patting his hand. “To the garden.”

Araminta led Ominis out to the garden, gently guiding him to a patio chair. 

“Lovely weather in London,” she hummed, nestling into the chair across from him.  

“Yes, lovely.” Ominis uttered.

“Although I’m sure it can hardly compare to the seaside.” Araminta noted.  Ominis could hear the clinking of the china teacups, Araminta murmuring a warming spell under her breath towards the teapot. As she continued her pleasantries, Ominis found himself drifting back to the conversation he’d had with his companion in the carriage.

Even without sight, Ominis understood Araminta Malfoy to be beautiful.  His entire life, he’d heard that she was tall, had delicate features, and was quick-witted. She had to be well into her thirties at this point, Marvolo’s oldest and most beloved mistress. There had been others, younger and equally pretty, but Ominis had never known any of them to linger as long as Araminta had. As far as he knew, she was married with a child of her own, an entire life outside of her dalliance with his brother.

“Alright, Ominis?” Araminta asked, fanning herself with a little lace fan.

“Just fine,” he lied. “How…how are you?”

“Quite well,” she said, pouring out a cup of tea for him. “Just got into town earlier this morning myself.”

“From whereabouts?” 

He could sense her wry smile. “From Wiltshire.”

“Forgive me, what’s in Wiltshire?” Ominis cocked his head.

Araminta let out a tiny sigh, the fabric of her dress crinkling as she leaned back into her seat. “Malfoy manor.” she said coolly. “My husband’s home.”

Ominis nearly spat his tea out. “Oh,” he said awkwardly. “Right. How is…” he trailed off, trying to remember the name of her child.

“Abraxas. He’ll be four this year.” she dropped a sugar cube into her tea, pushing the sugar bowl his way. “Any milk?”

Ominis held his hand up in refusal. “No thank you. And your husband?”

“Also faring well, if not a bit miffed at me.” Araminta hummed. “I’m missing a boating party he assembled.”

“Sorry to hear it,” Ominis sipped his tea.

“It’s quite alright.  Would’ve been dreadfully hot anyways.” she droned on, tapping her nails against the metal table. “I hadn’t been expecting your brother’s invitation, but always happy to join a Gaunt family weekend.”

“Family?” Ominis’s ears perked. “Everyone is coming?”

“Yes,” she said, fanning herself once more. “Your father and mother are due to arrive tomorrow evening for dinner.”

It was unlike his parents to leave the manor, he thought to himself.  Marvolo must have had something significant up his sleeve if it was interesting enough to draw his senile father and glacial mother out of their den.

“I wouldn’t worry,” Araminta reassured him. “I believe your brother wants you to meet someone while you’re here.”

“Oh,” Ominis blurted. “ That’s why he has the house-elves hiding everything away?”

Araminta let out a bright, sparkling laugh. “Yes, I believe so. Your sister met a very sweet girl during her recent trip, and Marvolo thinks she might be a match for you. He’s invited her and her family to join us for supper tomorrow.  Marvolo was quite impatient for you to feel better; kept rescheduling on them.”

Ominis fidgeted in his seat, trying to find the right words to follow up.  If only they knew , he thought, that his heart was already spoken for. 

“Galleon for your thoughts?” Araminta teased.

Ominis swirled his finger over his tea, stirring it.“The business of marriage is tiresome, don’t you think?” 

Araminta’s laugh faded into a sigh. “It could be worse.” she mused. “You could be a woman, after all.”

Ominis raised an eyebrow. “A blunt sentiment.  Is it really that awful?”

Araminta took a sip of her tea. “I’d ask your brother’s wife.” There was no mistaking the icy tone in her voice.

“Do you love my brother?” Ominis blurted.  The question had slipped through his lips without a second thought.

“Your brother and I have known each other for a very long time.” Araminta shrugged, setting her teacup down. “And while I was not considered a suitable match for him, we enjoy each other’s company.”

“But do you love him?” Ominis insisted.

Araminta paused, ruminating over the question.  “Even if I didn’t, do I have a choice?” she retorted. 

Ominis was struck by her honesty.  He’d opened his mouth to reply, but the sound of his brother’s heavy footsteps interrupted them.

“I’m sorry for the delay,” Marvolo said cheerfully. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Araminta’s head. “Catching up, you two?”

“Yes,” Araminta said sweetly, voice dripping with honey once more. “I was just telling your brother about the guest of honor for tomorrow's dinner.”

Marvolo, brutish as ever, spilled the tea as he poured it into the little teacup. “Yes, that’s what I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he said absentmindedly. “The Pinch-Smedley family will be joining us for supper tomorrow.” Ominis raised an eyebrow. “The Pinch-Smedleys?  As in, Grace Pinch-Smedley?”

“That’s the one,” Marvolo snapped his fingers. “I do believe you two were in the same year at school.”

“We were,” Ominis crossed his arms. “And you’re inviting her so that I might court her?”

“Marry her,” Marvolo said simply. “Her father is eager to get her off his hands, and he’s looking for a match that will elevate his station. They’re new money, but I can look aside that given the size of her dowry. And considering your deficiencies, she’s a good match.”

Ominis felt his mouth go dry. “You can’t possibly be serious.” 

Marvolo’s friendly demeanor shifted rapidly, voice going cold. “Why not?”

“Grace, we barely have anything in common,” Ominis wrinkled his nose. “Sure, we went to school together, but I hardly know her–”

“Oh honestly, Ominis, don’t be such a girl about it,” Marvolo complained, draping himself over a chair.  

“Marvolo, darling, I think Ominis is just nervous.” Araminta suggested.

Marvolo snorted. “Nothing to be nervous about–he’ll be winning a pretty girl.  I could think of worse things. For example, the little Lestrange troll our father set me up with.” he joked.

Both Araminta and Ominis were silent, neither daring to respond to his jabs.

“Besides that,” Marvolo said coolly, attention turned back to Ominis. “Once you marry the Pinch-Smedley girl, and our little houseguest marries one of her many suitors, we’ll have a decent haul.”

Ominis felt sick, the bile rising in his throat. It felt like his heart was trying to claw its way out of his body, begging him to shout his affections for her. He opened his mouth to bring up his question, but nothing came out.

“Are you alright, Ominis?” Araminta asked, voice piqued with curiosity. 

Ominis coughed, clearing his throat. “I’m fine.” he lied.

Ominis’s bedroom had long gone unused; he’d had to wedge himself between statues, stacks of books, and dusty old furniture just to fall into his old bed.  He tossed and turned on his creaky old bed, struggling to find peace. On several occasions he found himself drifting off to sleep, but the chattering of Marvolo’s pet snakes kept him awake.  He couldn’t imagine how his houseguest felt, subjected to the ever-present hum of hissing. 

If Ominis really wanted comfort, he could always leave and go back to the flat he shared with Sebastian–he hadn’t been there all summer, and he yearned for the feeling of his tidy old bedroom. However, pressed stomach down against the flimsy mattress, Ominis found he longing for something else.  Rather, someone.

Listening to his clock chime twelve times, Ominis got out of bed, tiptoeing around the mess of artifacts.  Tying his robe around his waist, he held his wand up to guide himself down the stairs and through the tight, restricting corridors.  Several times he found himself tripping over the fraying runners on the floor, needing both his wand and a hand on the walls to navigate his way to refuge. 

The library was perhaps the only quiet place in the house.  Marvolo had no interest in books, so he and his pets had no reason to enter the room.  Ominis waved his wand quickly to unlock the doors, slipping through them without a sound. As the heavy wooden doors clicked shut behind him, he let out an audible groan, head banging against the surface.

“Tough day?”

Ominis nearly jumped out of his skin, hand pressed to his heart as he raised his wand.  His eyes widened, realizing it was his companion, sitting cross legged in a wingback chair.

“It’s you,” Ominis sighed in relief. “Always out of bed in places you shouldn’t be,” he hummed, padding over to her.  He pressed a delicate kiss to the top of her head, luxuriating in her smell.

“It’s a part of my charm at this point,” she mused, pressing a kiss to his palm. “It’s been a very long day.”

“Long is one way to put it,” Ominis grumbled, settling into the chair across from her. “Do you know how torturous it’s been being apart?”

“I’ve been relegated to spending time with your sisters,” she reminded him. 

“Right.  So, you understand the torture.”

She laughed, her voice low and hoarse. “They’re really not that awful,” she sighed. “Just…boring.  They spent most of the day talking about clothes, hating their husbands, and gossiping about other ladies. I thought they were going to tear my head off when I told them Marvolo bought me new clothes.”

“Boring is kind of you to say,” Ominis huffed. “Devoid of feeling is the way I’d put it.”

“Did you miss me?” she taunted him.

Ominis raised a brow. “Is that even a question?” he slid off the leather chair, shuffling on his knees towards her. “I’ve missed you from the second we left the carriage.” he breathed, his hand catching around her ankle. 

She took in a sharp breath. “I thought this was part of the rules,” she whispered, breaths stuttering as Ominis slid his hand higher up her leg. “Not being around one another.”

“I’ll never understand your incessant need to gallivant around the house in such little clothing.” Ominis chirped, the feeling of her thin nightgown catching between his fingertips.

“Hey,” she complained. “I am wearing a robe.”

Ominis rolled his eyes, fighting back his smile. “I love you,” he murmured, sliding her gown over her knee.  He pressed a fervent kiss against her calf, tongue tracing circles over her skin. “And fuck the rules–Merlin, I missed you.”

“What if someone comes in and sees us?” she whispered, legs squirming as he pressed kisses along the inside of her thighs. It reminded him of their first encounter, his lips pressed against her thigh as a party raged outside the doors. Only this time, the stakes were much higher–there was no party, no noise to distract anyone who might hear them. 

Ominis was almost always the north star of good judgment, but the smell of her was too intoxicating, and the feel of her silky skin against his had him ready to throw away all of his good manners.  She always had that effect on him; something about her felt too good.

“They won’t,” he assured her, tugging her closer to the edge of the seat. He slipped his hand inside his robe pocket, pulling his wand out to cast a silencing charm on the door. “It’s just us.”

Setting his wand down on the floor next to him, Ominis hooked his hands behind her knees, tugging her closer.  The hem of her nightgown was pushed up to her waist. He relished the sound of her soft sighs once his lips found skin; grinning as his tongue flicked against her warm, wet center.  She muffled a cry, biting down on her hand to keep from moaning.

“I missed the way you taste,” Ominis confessed, brushing his nose against her cunt. “I’d do anything to feel you around me right now.”

“I’m sure…that, ah …that can be arranged.” she said breathily. “Quick, get up.”

Ominis pulled away, wiping her slick on the back of his hand.  She shuffled around him, pushing him down onto the chair.  He bounced slightly, feeling hand trail down his chest.

“What are you doing?” he tilted his head.

“Sit,” she whispered, nimble hands making quick work of his pajamas.  Ominis let out a throaty groan as her hand wrapped around his length, slowly stroking him. “Relax.”

“On my lap– please,” Ominis whimpered.

She did as he asked, crawling onto his lap.  His hands found her hips, tilting his head into her chest when she sank onto his length. He had no words for the feeling of utter bliss–it had been such a draining day, the feeling of her pulsing around him was bringing him back to life. 

Despite the silencing charm, neither dared to be too loud.  The only thing Ominis could hear was the creaking of the leather chair below them, her sharp breaths, and the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.  She slowly rolled her hips as Ominis wrapped his arms around her waist, praying to hold on as long as he could.  He didn’t want the feeling to end; he knew the moment it was over, they’d have to go back to separate beds, pretending they had nothing to do with one another once the sun came up.

“I love you,” Ominis breathed against her neck.  Her hands were tangled in his hair, tugging at his locks to tilt his head upwards. “I love you .”

“I don’t want to go back to bed alone,” she croaked, pressing her lips against his in a fervent kiss. “I want to go home. To our bed, Ominis.”

Ominis nearly lost his resolve at her words.  He imagined them leaving the wretched city together, hand in hand. Fuck the rules, fuck polite society, fuck arranged marriages.  They could go back to the seaside manor, just the two of them. He’d ravish her in their shared bed, in the garden, down by the shore.  It was home–their home–

He buried his face into her chest, thrusting upwards as he came, spilling inside of her.  Her name dragged across his lips, face pressed into the sweaty cotton of her nightgown.

Panting, he leaned his head back against the chair. “I’m sorry,” he groaned. “I didn’t want to finish quite yet.”

He felt her mouth open, lips pressed against his temple, but she never had a chance to speak.  The couple froze as they heard the door handle jiggle, muffled voices on the other side of the heavy wooden door.

Ominis panicked, realizing he’d missed a crucial step in safeguarding the room. His wand was on the ground; in his hurry, he hadn’t cast a locking spell on the door.  Whoever was on the other side would surely catch them in their post-coital mess, his companion still perched on his lap.  Ominis quickly lifted her off his lap, hastily pulling her nightgown down before falling to the ground to find his wand.

“I’m just going to fetch some whiskey,” the voice in the doorway said.  The door creaked open while Ominis patted the floor for his wand.  He could hear his houseguest gasp, and the patter of footsteps stopped.

“Oh,” the voice said, bemused.

Ominis held his wand up, preparing to defend himself, until he realized who was standing before them.  It was Araminta, also clad in her nightgown; she’d been heading for the decanter of firewhiskey near the desk. His mouth fell open, but he had no words to explain away the scandalous scene.  Face burning bright red, he used his free hand to cover his manhood.

“What’s the hold up?” Ominis could hear Marvolo’s lazy drawl from down the hallway.  He blinked rapidly, praying that his brother would stay outside.

There was a moment of silence until Araminta cleared her breath. “Nothing, my love.” she called out.  Ominis could hear the crystal decanter scraping against the desk as she grabbed it. “I’ll be right there.”

Somewhere down the hallway, a door shut. Ominis half expected his brother’s mistress to leave right away, but she turned back around to address them.

“The two of you better dress and get off to bed,” Araminta whispered. “You’re lucky it was just me.”

Ominis hastily pulled his pants up, helping his embarrassed houseguest to her feet. The two of them fumbled around with their robes, trying to sidestep the woman at the door. Araminta let her pass through without issue, but she put a hand on Ominis’s chest, stopping him in his tracks.

“You know better,” Araminta scolded him lightly. “You must be more careful.”

“Why would you care?” Ominis asked.  It sounded bitter, but it was an honest question.

Araminta sighed, smoothing her hand over his chest. “You know how your brother can get; he doesn’t like to share–”

“She’s not his toy,” Ominis hissed, straightening his back. 

“She’s not yours either,” Araminta reminded him. “Your brother charged you with her care, and I’m sure he didn’t mean it in that way.”

“It’s not like that,” Ominis muttered. “I love her.”

“I’m sure you do,” Araminta mused. “But be careful, Ominis. She deserves better than being someone’s mistress, don’t you agree?”

Ominis opened his mouth to respond, but he was too late.  She’d already flipped her braid over her shoulder, confidently striding out of the library.

“Good morning,” Ominis grumbled, walking into the dining room. 

“Merlin’s beard, did you sleep at all?” Cedrella chortled. The girls had already tucked into their breakfast. While his three sisters had all turned to stare at him with raised eyebrows, the girl situated between them kept her head down, pushing the eggs around her plate.  Araminta sat at the head of the table, absentmindedly licking the oatmeal off her spoon.

“I’m fine,” Ominis lied, slinking over to the buffet.  He wrinkled his nose at the smell of breakfast; while he was starving, his stomach was in knots.  After their encounter in the library with Araminta, there was no way he’d be able to sleep peacefully.  For most of his life, Ominis had never seen her as much more than Marvolo’s favorite mistress, but considering her choice words, he wasn’t sure what to think anymore.

Would she have told his brother?  No, it didn’t seem likely.  Would she perhaps use the information to blackmail him? A possibility.  She gave nothing away, ignoring the rest of the table.

Ominis piled eggs and toast onto his plate, swallowing back a yawn as he sat down at the breakfast table.

“You really should take a focus potion,” Dorcas said lazily, draping herself against the back of her chair. “Mother and Father will be here shortly, and I doubt they’ll want to see you as such a mess.”

“No, not with your future bride in tow.” Apolline chirped. “You’re lucky Cedrella proposed the idea of Grace to Marvolo, you know.  Pretty and she has money. Very hard to pin a fully pureblood girl with both nowadays, it seems.”

Ominis’s head flew up, wand gripped tightly in his hand.  He could make sense of the faces around him; his sisters all had haughty grins on their faces.  His houseguest, on the other hand, had turned her gaze to a portrait across the room.

“It’s not official,” Ominis announced. “Marvolo only told me yesterday.”  The statement wasn’t for his sisters, merely a plea of reason to his lover.

“Well, you know how Marvolo gets when he puts his mind to something,” Cedrella grunted. “That’s how I got saddled with Montague.”

“Ugh, at least he’s not half as boring as Alphonse.” Dorcas complained. “My husband couldn’t be bothered to read a book.”

“Yes, but you at least get to enjoy Travers’s gold,” Apolline interjected. “Herbert lost it all in that dragon breeding ring…”

The girls went on about their husbands and unhappy marriages, while his companion remained quiet, scraping her fork across the bone china plate.  Ominis felt a wave of dread crash over his senses; while he’d had some semblance of hope yesterday, what little remained was dwindling by the second.  He wanted nothing more than to pull her away, reassure her of his affections.  Instead, they were across the table from one another, forced into silence as his sisters babbled. He yearned to hear her voice, for something witty and smart to come out of her mouth–yet nothing.

The door opened, and everyone stopped their chatter.  Ominis could hear the little pittering footsteps of a house-elf. 

“Master Marvolo has asked to see Master Ominis in the library, sir.”

Ominis regretfully pushed away from the dining table, following the house-elf down the thin corridor. Their voices grew further and further away, until only his footsteps were audible.  He pushed into the door of the library, raising his wand to get an idea of Marvolo’s position.  His elder brother was sitting behind the desk, absentmindedly flipping through papers.

“There you are,” he droned. “Sleep well? You’ve got a big day ahead of you.”

“Just fine, thanks.” Ominis grumbled. “What’s so important it had to interrupt breakfast?”

Marvolo leaned forward, palms flat on the desk. “We’ll have a few more guests joining us for dinner tonight.” he said cheerfully. “Thought we should make it a celebratory affair, if we’re to celebrate two engagements tonight.”

Ominis felt his blood go cold. “Two engagements?” 

Marvolo rapped his knuckles against the wooden table top. “Well, there’s you and Grace to start. If Mr. Pinch-Smedley is amenable to the dowry I’ve negotiated, we’ll make it official. You know, I despise social climbers, but we need the galleons.” he sighed. “That, and I’ve decided on a match for our little houseguest.”

“Who?” Ominis asked, almost a bit too quickly.

“Augustus Carrow has thrown in an offer of seventeen hundred galleons.” Marvolo chuckled. “I daresay the girl has made quite an impression on him.  Thought we could deliver the happy news tonight, and get her out of your hair.”

“No.” Ominis clenched his fists. “Marvolo, I must insist.  You can’t do this.”

“Do what, little brother?” Marvolo asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Ominis inhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. “I…I can’t let you promise her to him.”

Marvolo stood up slowly, leaning over the desk. “And why is that?” he asked dryly.

“Because she’s not…she…” Ominis stammered, trying to make the words come out.

“Spit it out then,” Marvolo demanded.

“Because she’s not…pure,” Ominis choked out. 

“As far as I see, she comes from a long line of pureblooded witches and wizards.  Peasants, but still decent stock.”

“Not in that way.” Ominis said hastily, now fiddling with his wand handle. “I…I’ve been bedding her. I’ve taken her virtue, and it would be dishonest to peddle her off to Carrow in this state.”

Marvolo was silent a moment, before snorting. “Well of course you’ve been bedding her.  I knew that, silly.”

He felt his mouth go dry. “You do?”

“You’re a hot blooded male, she’s a girl bored out of her mind.  I figured you two would start fondling each other before long.” Marvolo laughed so hard, he had to clutch his stomach. “Bravo, Ominis. Good for you.  She’s very pretty; I’ll bet she’s quite feisty in the bedroom.”

“And knowing that, you’ll still promise her to Carrow?” Ominis blinked rapidly, trying to piece together Marvolo’s rationale.

“Omi, my darling brother, you’re so proper.” Marvolo laughed. “Who cares if you’ve bedded Augustus Carrow’s wife? Merlin, everyone knows I’m shagging Malfoy’s wife.”

“But–”

“Ominis,” Marvolo sighed, flattening a palm against his forehead. “She’s just a girl.  There will be plenty more for you–in fact, Dorcas has said the Pinch-Smedley girl is quite nice to look at…well, I guess that doesn’t really matter for you, does it…”

“But I want her ,” Ominis blurted. “Marvolo, please.  I’m serious.”

Ominis could sense the change in his brother’s demeanor, mood hardening.

“Why do you care?” Marvolo spat. “Oh Omi, don’t tell me you love her.”

“Let me take her,” Ominis straightened, still and calm. “I want her.”

“That’s too bad,” Marvolo said coolly. “Because she’s not yours to have.”  He sensed his brother move from behind the desk, leaning against the edge with his arms crossed.

“I’ve never asked you for anything, Marvolo.” Ominis insisted. “Just–just let me have her.”

Marvolo groaned. “Ominis, she’s a peasant.”

“You just said she was of decent stock.” Ominis argued.

“Yes, decent–but given certain circumstances, you require a bride with money ,” Marvolo reminded him. “And as far as I know, the girl is penniless.  Father hasn’t a galleon to his name, I’ve made sure of that. If I let you have her, we lose the dowry from the Pinch-Smedleys, and I make no profit from hosting her all summer.  We’ll be in the red.”

“But Marvolo,” Ominis interjected. “ Please .”

“That doesn’t mean you have to stop having fun with her, you know,” Marvolo drawled. “Honestly, doubt Carrow will ever be sober enough to notice–”

“That’s enough,” Ominis growled. “I would never behave that way, you know that.” 

“Oh right.  Ominis the honorable,” Marvolo chortled. “Honestly, here I thought you were finally loosening up now that you’d finally had a taste of pussy.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.” Ominis snapped.

Marvolo laughed. “Touchy, I get it.  I’m just saying, you needn’t be so down.  Look at Araminta and me, we’re quite happy with our arrangement.”

“It’s disrespectful, that’s what it is.” Ominis crossed his arms. “What of your own wife? Araminta’s husband, her children?”

“That’s enough,” Marvolo seethed. “Ominis, this is how marriage works.  This is how it’s always worked in our family.  You can have your fun, but at the end of the day, it’s about preserving and protecting our bloodline. You are a Gaunt–it’s time you start acting like one.” he hissed, brandishing his wand. “You are going to quit this incessant whinging, and do as you’re told.  You’ll marry the Pinch-Smedley girl, and you’ll stop carrying on about this summer fling of yours. Get over it!” he snarled. “And get out of my sight.”

Ominis opened his mouth to argue once more, but shut it tightly. Without another word, he turned on his heel, stalking out of the library. Raising his wand with a trembling hand, Ominis realized that his companion had been right.  

The idea of marriage with her had been a last ditch effort, that he would admit.  Hell, even she’d known it was a bad idea. Even if Marvolo had blessed their union, they’d still be Gaunts.  And as Gaunts, they’d be destined to live the same, miserable existence his family had endured for centuries. Lukewarm marriages, illicit affairs, joyless existence–the wheel turned on and on, chasing the standard Salazar Slytherin had set for them.  

As Ominis walked down the hall, hand running over the peeling wallpaper, he thought of his siblings and their unhappy unions, matched to their spouses without a choice.  He thought of his father and brother, who were always fighting to prove the Gaunts fledging superiority.  He thought of how dreadfully unhappy everyone was, and how the only happiness he’d come to know was her company.  Just her, just them, together.  It didn’t have to be at the manor, in the garden, or their room.  So long as he was with her, he’d be free. 

Ominis knew he had little time to act before his parents, Carrow, and the Pinch-Smedley clan arrived for dinner.  The house-elves, all panicking to finish the housework before guests arrived, hardly noticed the blind man slipping out the service entrance at the back of the house. He tiptoed until he knew he was far enough away that his siblings wouldn’t hear the familiar crack of him apparating away.

Ominis’s feet landed on the creaky wooden floors; the flat smelled of mallowsweet, firewood, and parchment, even in the heat of summer.  He’d reminded Sebastian to open the windows in their parlor room from time to time to let the air in, but it seemed his roommate had forgotten.  

“Ominis, what are you doing here?” Sebastian gawked.  Ominis could hear the chair at the dining table scrape back, his best friend standing up to face him.  

He twisted his wand in his hand anxiously, his other hand running through his hair.

“Plan A didn’t work out in my favor,” he admitted. “Still have your plan up your sleeve? Perhaps you want to fill me in?”

After years of friendship, Ominis didn’t need his wand to know when Sebastian was nervous.  The brunette always dug his toe into the ground, anxiously fiddling with his collar.

“I don’t think we have much time to execute upon the original plan, but I got to thinking last night about another option.” Sebastian admitted. “It would mean leaving.  And by leaving, I mean absolutely everything.”

Ominis walked over to the dinner table, settling into the chair across from Sebastian.  

“Well, go on.” Ominis insisted. “We don’t have much time.”

Sebastian sat down, fingers drumming on the splintered wooden table.  “Are you sure?  Ominis, this will change your life.”

Ominis tilted his head towards the window, feeling the warmth of the sunlight streaming onto his face.  It made him think of afternoons spent in the garden with the girl he’d fallen in love with. 

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.”

[vengefulvermin]

Can i get more passage of time/music development yapping ☹️☹️☹️??? I give you official permission to yap the most you can im so interested

YES YES YES YES YES I LOVE THIS ASK

warning beneath the cut SCARY WALL OF TEXT WARNING 😱

decided to divide it into colored parts if you dont gaf about certain elements 😭

second warning all of this is unedited rambling so some points might contradict each other or just plain not make sense.

okay so for CONTEXTTTTT

i have diagnosed OCD, and like, roughly since the end of last year and the beginning of this one, the 'obsession' part of OCD that was negatively affecting me, was the concept of time. how fleeting it was. how it's basically unescapable ALL THINGS MUST PASS (get out of my head george harrison) that shit proper cold dead SCARED ME MAN. sleepless & haunting me in my dreams type shi. sometimes it still does. i try not to think about it too much

to cope, i found great comfort in the 70s-80s since at the time i was and still am hyperfixated on david bowie and that was sort of his prime (love his 90s-00s work tho.) i was also starting to think of how much parallels and similar experiences i have to previous generations and how it's not ALL that bad after all so far. i can still walk to a record store and roller skate if i really wanted to, or go to a diner.

okey here's where the life changing stuff happens. i decided i'd listen to pink floyd's the dark side of the moon. then TIME CAME ON. ohhhh god oh gosh golly god i was bawling and everything the whole song spoke to me on a molecular level. then i found out about DB's song also called time, and i ALSO crode to that. i was like. wow. i'm not alone on this feeling of utter desperation and helplessness as eventually all things Must Pass. (GEORGE HARRSION GTFO)

i used to be bitchy on how i whined i was part of the 'wrong generation.' i thought i was alone, but virtually everyone of almost every era has thought this. somebody who lived my dream life wished they had what i have now.

that's when i started to lowkey realize the parallels and oneness of human experience. i could go to a club in the 70s, and (granted the infrastructure and music remains similar) i could today. nothing would change on how i perceive events. there is no color filter on the past. unless you got huge TVs and stuff all over your house, you could walk around, and think it's the 80s. AND IT'S BASICALLY THE 80s. the way your parents or any other gen Xer saw the world with their *eyes* (not counting the changes in buildings and stuff) is the same as you today pretty much.

i already really enjoy subcultures, and particularly how they evolve and adapt. the indomitable human spirit prevails no matter how gentrified or 'banned' things become. nowadays i feel like there is No Youth Subcultures. at least, none that will pass the test of time and be memorable enough to be remembered in the books. nobody's gonna go to their child and proudly say: "when i was your age, i was a chav" or something. and i credit this to the lack of creativity allowed in the wider music industry.

HEAR ME OUT this is because 90% of youth subcultures had everything to do with music. and now, everything must be palatable. to be clear there's nothing inherently wrong with that type of music, but to me it speaks no soul. it has no risks. contemporary pop music is very much formulaic and this is because now more than ever entertainment (this also applies to movies btw) is more of an investment than passion. I WILL SPECIFY.

music production is so vastly different genre to genre, and we're not letting it flourish because of how much short form content is valued nowadays. LET ME COOK.

tiktoks are formulaic. algorithms are formulaic. WE'RE GETTING SOMEWHERE. there must be an instant hook or rift in music if you want to 'go viral' as a musician. digitized fame doesn't mean SHIT (to me), since clearly monthly listeners don't equate real world fans. album sales are being replaced with streams, and because of how ASS spotify treats its artists, newer, less established acts need to GET ON THE GRIND INSTANTLY to earn Coin. that means that to be smart and work with the exploitative system they're given, they have to make albums filled with 1 minute 30 second songs. so you can technically give them the most amount of streams possible. i feel with this formulaic approach, you can't get 6 minute long gutwrenching guitar pieces. no more 4 minute drum solos, hell avant garde experimental works were 2 people shout their names out at each other for 20 minutes. THERE ARE NO MORE FRANK ZAPPAS.

i'm not going to be one of those sad assholes who claim there's 'no more good rock music' and how it'll never be the same. as corny as this is, the next beatles or nirvana could be right under our noses and we'll NEVER know because of how fame is distributed. it sucks to see a small band beg on tiktok for streams to kickstart their career. but this is what we gotta work with. if we want subcultures to be created and thrive, we gotta go looking underground again, except unlike in the past it's a kajillion times easier now AND everything gets gentrified in 2 tiktok weeks. but this is evolution. MUSIC EVOLUTION

the end honk shoo honk shoo (it's midnight)

[pistachiotalenti]

saw this post by @bottleofchaos, decided to write something for it! idk!

~

"Golly, you two are too sweet."

It doesn't process in Dream's head, at least not at first. But then a weird silence falls onto them, the kind that's made when someone is expecting a response that hasn't come yet. George's eyes fall from Dream's face to search for the source of the voice, and Dream follows his gaze until it lands on the small, white-haired lady sitting at a table nearby.

She stares at them, eyes wrinkled, lips curled into a knowing grin. Now that they're all looking at each other, Dream understands that they've officially started a conversation with this woman. He has nothing to contribute besides a series of stuttered false starts: oh, uh, haha, uh, thanks–?

She interrupts him before he can spit out a whole thought. "So which one of you popped the question?" she asks, her smile spreading even wider, sweeter.

Dream nearly chokes. "Who– what–"

"I couldn't help but notice your rings," she says, uncurling her hand from her walker to point between them.

My rings? Dumbly, Dream looks down at his own hands, at the rings he wears with nearly every outfit. There's nothing really to notice about them today, other than that the one he usually wears on his pinky is missing–

George pulls his hand up between them, the thick silver of his borrowed ring gleaming pretty on his second-smallest finger. Dream starts to feel faint.

"Oh," he starts. "We're not– uh–"

"He did," George replies, and the shock that slams into Dream's entire body nearly throws him off his feet. He looks to George at a breakneck speed. George merely smiles up at him with that cheesy beam, the one where his cheeks pucker up into his eyes and his mouth spreads so wide that the very edges of his teeth show, the one that makes Dream so fucking happy to see up close in person—and my god. It hits Dream now that it's that exact type of exchange that makes them look so incredibly married, not just to the millions of viewers who search for moments like this, but also, apparently, to this random lady waiting for her order in Starbucks.

Satisfied, she claps her hands onto her knees and leans into George's space. "Oh, that's lovely! I'm sure you must've felt like a million bucks."

"I did," George answers, uncharacteristically sweet. Dream thinks that each word coming out his mouth feels like a punch to the face.

"And you," she continues, turning to Dream, "I bet you were really nervous, huh?"

Dream falters. He didn't ask for the spotlight on him, but now he's left to deal with it and this insane lie George has crafted for the two of them. He figures he should just be honest and tell her that this was one big misunderstanding, a big joke, but then he jumps at the invisible touch on his lower back. It's George, looking up at him with wide, inquisitive eyes and resting a hand on his waist like it's something he does all the time, or even ever.

Dream feels his entire face turn hot. This fucking asshole.

"Uh– I– yeah, I mean–" He can't think at all, not with this weird, dumb warmth lingering at the base of his spine. A small, still-coherent space in his mind flashes back to a few months ago at Twitchcon, where he had infamously held George's waist for the briefest of moments. He hadn't been so eager, hand not as solidly placed against his back the way George's hand is on him right now, but even if it had been, Dream wouldn't expect it to look (and feel) so... romantic.

Maybe it's a weird thought, but Dream feels like such a girlfriend in this moment, such a piece of arm candy, small and held and cared for, and it's so strange—yet also only so expected—to find himself in this position alongside George. It's a lot to think about. It's so much that he abandons thinking at all, and instead lets his tongue and teeth go on autopilot.

"I was, yeah. I mean, look at this guy. He's gorgeous. Of course I'd be nervous asking him to marry me!"

George lets out a sputtered laugh. The hand on Dream's back twitches, curling briefly into the fabric of his hoodie before slipping off and away. Dream would feel smug at successfully throwing George off-guard, if only he didn't miss the touch.

"Oh, shush. You're both handsome. You look great together," the lady assures with a wave of her hand. "But you know, in all honesty, looks don't matter. What really matters is how you two interact, and work together, and... and love each other, really."

It's an alarmingly heartfelt bit of advice, one that George takes with unexpected sincerity. "That's true. I mean, I... we met online, so I actually... I didn't know what he looked like for years, even while we were talking."

"Oh, wow. Really? That's... that's real commitment there. That's lovely." Awe flashes across her face. Dream catches George's eye, and by his strained smile, Dream can tell they both feel exposed in this instance, teetering on the edge of something a little too real, cutting a little too close to who they are and what they've been through together. The stranger before them knows no difference, chatting onward. "No, of course, I should've known two young men like you would've met on the Internet. What is it called, the one on your phone? Tinder, or Grindr, or..."

"Uh–! Grindr," Dream says, chuckling a bit as he falls back into the absurdity of this conversation.

"Sure! That sounds right. My grandson, Brian, bless his heart. He actually met his partner on one of those apps on the phone, and now they're engaged. Isn't that wonderful?"

Dream and George both chime in with the polite response, congratulating the woman for the exciting development in her family. Giddy, she basks in the well wishes. "It'll be first time one of my grandkids will get married. I'm so excited." Her dreamy expression off into the distance suddenly lazer focuses onto the both of them. "What are your names? I'll have to tell Brian about you two. I think it'll really please him to know that there are other young folk like him who are married and happy and thriving and..."

Dream and George exchange a precarious look. There's no way in hell they'd give their real names, lest the wrong people get the wrong idea and end up spreading rumors across the Internet about Clay and George's secret marriage. So George looks back to the woman. "My name is Nick."

Dream scoffs, just quiet enough to escape suspicion. "And I'm Karl."

"That's lovely. Thank you, boys. I hope you two live long, happy lives together!"

It's a sweet sendoff. The two wish her and her grandson the best, then they leave the Starbucks, making sure to pick up their drinks before the barista can holler out their true names in front of this woman they wholly, egregiously lied to. And for the most part, the moment is over with reality restored and all turning back to normal.

They're not married, or engaged. They're not even a couple. They're just... Dream is just...

"Idiot." It's the first thing either of them have said since stepping out into the Florida sun. Dream turns to George, who despite the mean name-calling, shakes his head and smiles along his straw like he's as fond as ever. "You're an idiot."

"What do you mean?" Dream asks coolly. It earns a bright smile from George, as he had hoped.

"Oh my god, don't even do this right now."

"What?"

"No, you're such an idiot. I can't believe you did that to that poor lady."

"Did what?" Dream laughs. "You were the one who lied to her first."

"No, I didn't lie. I was just going with it. But you were the one who straight up said you proposed to me."

"What? There's no way– you know that's not how that works. You are not gonna pretend you're innocent in this."

George smiles his little shit-eating grin. "I'm always innocent."

"Okay, now that's a lie."

George barks out a laugh, loud and wonderful and so very George that it makes Dream's chest ache a bit. And it aches more when George raises his hand again to brandish that matching silver ring, the one that brought them into this mess in the first place. George sighs wistfully.

"But really, I can't believe that actually happened. Like, after all the times we talked about someone thinking we were actually a couple?"

"It's insane."

"It's epic."

Dream snorts. "Sure."

"Next time, we should do that thing where one of us pretends to propose in a fancy restaurant so that we get free dessert or something."

Dream giggles, "Okay, that actually would be epic."

"Right? You can be the one that proposes." George waggles an eyebrow at him. "Unless my gorgeousness would make you too nervous."

With a roll of his eyes, Dream turns away and laughs. "Oh my god, shut up. You're so–"

"Or was that a lie, too?" George challenges, smirking because he already knows the answer.

"No, that– okay, no, I would– in this fantasy scenario, I would not get nervous just because you look... handsome, or whatever." It's a weird hill to die on, so Dream decides to make it weirder. "I would be super cool when I propose to you, all Chad-like."

"When?" George echoes. He's not even able to hide his surprise at the slip.

Dream flounders further. "No, oh my god, I mean 'if'. Er, I mean– I'm not proposing to you."

"Yet."

Dream rolls his eyes again, fond. "Yeah, sure, yet."

George laughs, pleased with himself. Then he shrugs. "Ah, I dunno. I guess we'll see if you get nervous then, once it actually happens."

Dream smiles behind his cup. "Idiot."

[starseneyes]

Good Omens - A Good Kiss

I know we all have hopes and dreams for Season 3. And we all know the masterful Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman already had a plan and it will be sensational, whatever it is.

But as I considered my personal, fangirl wish list, I finally reached the crux of why mine includes a "good" kiss for our favorite ineffable idiots.

And... well... it's personal. But, I thought I'd share. Writing things out is always healing for me, so maybe it'll help someone else, ya know?

TRIGGER WARNING: Assault / Child Molestation

When I was 12 years old, I rode home from a funeral with my abuela's best friend's husband. I was told repeatedly he was like a second grandfather to me since mine died when I was only 8.

So, once we arrived at his house ahead of my abuela and her friend, I kissed him on the cheek and thanked him for listening to me on the ride as I rattled on about Star Trek.

He took this as an invitation to stick his tongue down my throat. He went to put his arms around me, but I let my body weight drop to the floor and crawled away until I could stand. I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in until my abuela and her friend arrived.

When they did, I asked for a pen and paper to write down various nuts. I asked them for suggestions, and while I did write down nuts... I also wrote down what happened. I passed the note to my abuela, asking her to double check my notes.

We left moments later. But in the car, she yelled at me. She said I "made him do it" and that I was an over-affectionate, bad girl. That I shouldn't tell anyone, especially my mother, because she would be angry with me.

Suffice it to say, that was the last summer I spent with her. But only after I found the bravery to tell my mother what happened months later.

The damage was done. I believed my abuela that I was the problem. I believed I ruined everything. The psychological damage from that whole thing spanned decades.

// END TRIGGER

So, for me, I want Crowley and Aziraphale to have a kiss that is good because their first kiss was absolutely awful. Narratively gutting and incredible? Yes. Gosh, yes. But awful.

And I want to watch them have a shared kiss that is sweet and filled with the love they both obviously feel for one another.

I'm not likening the Aziracrow kiss to assault. Please know that. I'm only connecting the dots of why I respond so strongly to the idea of a "good" kiss for our ineffables.

I realized that my trauma is informing how I view that first kiss of theirs. It isn't the sweet, loving, wonderful kiss that I want for them. I want them to have the opportunity to kiss one another openly, on the same page, fully enveloped in one another's love and embracing it.

They aren't defined by whether or not they kiss again. Their love is alive in everything they say and do. It is not conditional on a kiss.

But I still want it for them.

My whole thing with my first boyfriend when I was 16 wasn't the dream, but my first kiss was. He didn't even know my history, but I still remember him asking permission before kissing me ever so sweetly. And that kiss was strangely healing.

So while it's absolutely selfish, I do hope we get another kiss between our ineffables in Season 3. Because I want that lovely moment for them, but also for me.

I'm gutted that their first kiss was awful, and I would love them to have the sweetness that I finally found myself.

Oh, and my husband? The man I married 16 years ago and have been with 20 years? Besides a stage role (because, of course, I married an actor), I was his first kiss. And it was the sweetest!

Now, we might not get a kiss in Season 3. I completely understand that. There's an ineffable plan already in play that will be whatever it will be. But, I do have this hope... and now I understand why.

Golly, isn't it strange how the media we consume can feed into our own healing? Maybe I'll tell you the rest of my story another time. But, for now, I'm glad I understand myself a little better. Growth! Huzzah!

[chaisshitposts]

it's been a full week since I've started my challenge! here are my results ----

I've been going into the void state for the past three days in my sleep, but I've been unable to wake up in it fully, however, I won't be giving up.

On one of these seven days, however, I did wake up in the void, and jesus it was insane.. I opened my eyes after sleeping and it was nothing but darkness and no sounds, but I got kicked out a second later and all my senses came rushing back simultaneously. The void is fucking real and I can't even doubt it anymore.

Now, I've decided to still listen to my nighttime void subliminals for another week, but yesterday I realized that I never used the law of assumption to create rules for myself. Which I think was a major mistake on my end, so I wrote down some rules in one of my notebooks and decided to actually count myself affirming that all my manifestation rules are facts for 10k+, even ordered myself some physical counters from Amazon to do so, I need to fully saturate my mind. Aside from counting, I'll also be robotically affirming when I can ofc.

I think the main tip I can give about manifesting in general is that ya should definitely make your rules into assumptions while affirming for other things too. And ya should also make yourself some void rules too to cater to you personally. I think that was the most problematic thing for me because I was so impatient about getting everything that I never really sat down and considered giving myself rules. And people will tell you until their blue in the face that you shouldn't condition your conscious manifestation, but imma be real with you— it's your reality, it's your mind, do whatever the fuck you want, don't let nobody tell you what you can and can't do. Don't even let this post tell you what you can and can't do. You wanna create the assumption that negative thoughts make your desires come faster? Fucking do it. You wanna create the assumption that obsessing over your desires makes it instantly conform? Go for it. You wanna create the assumption that your doubts, wavering, fears, and all that other bullshit strengthens your self-concept? By golly, go for it!!! Do what the hell feels RIGHT for you. If you can THINK it, it's fucking possible, I don't give a shit if anyone tells you otherwise, don't let bullshit stop you from living your dream-motherfucking-life.

Ah, and another thing, if you're following my shitty little journey, I am probably going to make a post soon about attempting to enter the void after taking an edible. Like in my other post, I've mentioned that I do not enjoy meditating in the traditional sense because I don't feel the symptoms fast enough, but edibles naturally make me floaty and relaxed sO we'll see what happens. Anyways, I'll be sure to update changes as I goooooooo, toodles for now.