#ace deer has a type!

[skiplo-wave]

Alastor boyfriends are men that will cook and eat him 😋

[eoieopda]

triple-dog dare | lsm

“Bambi.”

The sternness of his tone surprised both of you, so much so that when you snapped to look at him, both of you froze. Your moon-sized eyes were further proof that your childhood nickname still rings true to date, although your being the deer made him the oncoming car in this scenario. 

He didn’t love that analogy.

Recovering quickly, he pulled the Ace from his sleeve: the surefire way for one of you to get the other onboard:

“I triple-dog dare you to come with me.”

pairing: lee seokmin x reader summary: when you're left off the guest list to seokmin's parent's thirtieth anniversary party, you're content to keep your questions to yourself and stay home. seokmin, on the other hand, is not content. in fact, he pulls the one card he knows will always win. au: childhood best friends to lovers genre: fluff, angst, smut type: one-shot rating: 18+ only. minors do not have my consent to interact. wc: 13k cw: pov switches, complicated sibling dynamics (seokmin’s), there is in fact one (1) bed, halmonis gone wild, stupid childhood nicknames, fingering (v), oral sex (m receiving), multiple orgasms, implied penetrative sex (p in v). reader notes: afab, uses she/her pronouns, wears a dress/heels to the party, is implicitly an only child. the setting is intentionally ambiguous, so she's not implicitly korean and/or asian. there are no descriptions of body shape/size, complexion, etc. a/n: thank you to the incomparable @daechwitatamic for beta-ing this! it's been a long damn time since i've written anything, so this might not have seen the light of day without jo, the hype-man. on that note, i suck at summaries; just read the fic, lmao. svt masterlist. svt permanent taglist. multi permanent taglist.

For being the walking disaster that he is, there have been shockingly few moments in Lee Seokmin’s life where he’s needed to shove his oversized foot into his oversized mouth.

Prior to the incident at your apartment, the last time he’d embarrassed himself like this was when he’d asked his oldest sister, Soyeon, in earnest whether or not she was pregnant, only to learn that she was just bloated; and he’s just an ass.

To your credit, you’re far from cruel when he slips up, but that almost makes it worse. You visibly deflate when he asks his well-intentioned but ill-fated question, rather than letting him have it the way his two siblings would have done.

The day in question went like this:

He asked, “Did you reserve your room yet for the 31st? If not, we can double up. It’ll be a lot cheaper.”

And you blinked, stunned like you’d been slapped. “Have I what?”

It dawned on you both at that moment that, for whatever reason, his parents’ thirtieth anniversary party was in fact news to you. Two things then happened at once: you tried to hide your surprise and the twinge of pain that comes with being excluded; and he racked his stupid brain to find any explanation for why you had to feel either one of those things.

The best option he found was to gently toss his middle sister, Seonmi, under the metaphorical bus. 

“Seonmi’s been working on something special for them. You know how she gets,” he waved dismissively. “So obsessed with finding the perfect napkins — ” He wiggled his fingers for emphasis. “— and creating custom cocktails, that she misses the forest for the trees.”

You didn’t look convinced. Likewise, you didn’t look any less uncomfortable.

Fuck.

“I’m sure it was an honest mistake.” To drive his point home, he reached from his spot on your couch to give your knee a reassuring squeeze. “I have a plus-one, so it’s not like it’ll be a logistical problem. You belong there as much as we do.”

And he meant it, wholeheartedly. 

All his life, the running joke has been that Soonyi and Minseok Lee have four kids: two biological daughters, a younger son, and his otherwise unrelated twin, who spent more time sleeping on his top bunk than in her own home next door. 

The way he saw it — and the way he’s sure his parents would see it — is that no family gathering is complete without you. That’s a hill he’d die on if need be.

You shifted in your seat, which caused his hand to slip off your knee, whether or not you meant for it to happen. Glancing uneasily out your window, you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, mumbling, “I don’t know…”

Seokmin frowned. You didn’t see it, though, and therefore weren’t moved by it. Instead, you cycled through your anxious thoughts at high velocity. If he was still touching you, he’d be worried that your sparking brain might catch him on fire.

“What if it’s not a mistake? I mean, what if it’s a couples thing?” 

He couldn’t even classify these questions as rhetorical because he wasn’t meant to hear them in the first place. Though you asked out loud, each one of them was for your ears only. From his half of the couch — miles away — his frown deepened, unbeknownst to you.

“You know, Seonmi follows me on Instagram; she’d know that Kai and I broke up a few months ago. Maybe she doesn’t want me to feel awkward? Even if I went, and I didn’t feel weird about that, her expecting it to be weird might make it weird, right?”

Fuck.

You’d spiral all day if Seokmin didn’t stop you. As much as he loves how thoughtful you are, he knows better than most that you have a tendency to take it too far, inflicting that relentless consideration on yourself until it wounds. 

“Bambi.”

The sternness of his tone surprised both of you, so much so that when you snapped to look at him, both of you froze. Your moon-sized eyes were further proof that your childhood nickname still rings true to date, although your being the deer made him the oncoming car in this scenario. 

He didn’t love that analogy.

Recovering quickly, he pulled the Ace from his sleeve: the surefire way for one of you to get the other onboard:

“I triple-dog dare you to come with me.”

Begrudgingly, you’d conceded, just like Seokmin hoped you would. You sat with him while he figured out travel plans to the mountain resort, helped him visualize what the hell he needed to wear to an event like this. When the time came, you sent him half the cost for the room he booked, even though he repeatedly insisted that you didn’t need to chip in.

Now, that unsolicited sum sits untouched in his Venmo balance. You sit next to him on the night train out of town.

Sit, he thinks, is a bit of an understatement. You’re barely upright, so exhausted from your work day that his shoulder and side are bearing most of your weight. His arm went from tingling to numb an hour ago, but Seokmin doesn’t mind. There isn’t a burden he wouldn’t carry for you, up to and including you yourself.

Besides, he’s not worse off for being left to his own devices. In fact, he keeps himself thoroughly entertained by taking selfies of the pair of you. The aftermath will stay securely in his camera roll — largely because you’d kill him if you saw how squishy your face is, pressed against his coat, or how your little pout trembles slightly, almost as if you’re trying to talk through your sleep — but he still finds it worth the risk. This mochi-cheeked version of you is one of his favorites.

When Seokmin has amassed enough silly photos to comprise a dossier, he tucks his phone back into his pocket with a self-satisfied smile. You’re still out cold, so you don’t stir at his subtle movements or the sound of the concession trolley rattling your way down the aisle.

The girl manning said trolley is significantly outweighed by the thing itself. She hardly looks old enough to have graduated high school, he figures, and he can’t imagine how it is that she’s working at this hour — or how she got stuck doing this job, when it takes all she’s got to maneuver the giant metal contraption through all the train cars.

“Anything, sir?” She asks politely, albeit slightly out-of-breath. 

Even though she’s speaking to him, her gaze is directed squarely at his hat, leading him to believe that she may also be too shy for her job. Nonetheless, it’s been two entire hours since his dinner, and he’s on the brink of starving to death, so he coughs up a few bills in exchange for several different snacks. 

She could do him the kindness of assuming his massive pile of food is for sharing, but she doesn’t. She gestures to you and whispers, “Anything for your —?”

Seokmin intercepts the question, knowing exactly where it’s headed: in the same direction as the million others like it that he’s heard over the years. 

“— parole officer?” He supplies with a smile, “No, this nap is fueled by a lot of crab rangoon. She’ll be out for the duration, I fear.”

Both halves of his response seem to stun her, which means he has to cover his inevitable laugh with a fake cough. 

This bit of yours will truly never get old, although the implications that prompt it did a long time ago. It was a stroke of genius on your part, dodging inaccurate references to your relationship status by offering up something too absurd to converse around.

“You two make such a cute couple,” an Uber driver once told you.

“He’s not in a relationship,” you’d politely corrected him. “He’s in witness protection. I’m duty-bound to keep him and his identity safe.”

The silence turns awkward, so Seokmin thanks the girl and gives her a smile he hopes says, “you’re allowed to run away from me now; I won’t take it personally.” She bows her head a little too eagerly, then skitters off with a grimace, like she pulled something in her neck.

Alone again with you, he wiggles gently upright in his seat so that you can rest more comfortably against his pectoral, rather than his shoulder bone. Even though you’re still asleep, Seokmin swears he hears a quiet mmpfh, as if you’re expressing gratitude. He bites his lips to keep from smiling, knowing that smiling in your proximity is one step away from laughter: the only thing you’ve never been able to sleep through.

Instead of giving into the urge, he murmurs, “You should get paid royalties whenever we use that joke. Being as smart as you are should pay off.”

Now, he knows he’s not simply hearing things because you’re just barely loud enough to overcome your own mumbling. 

“Agreed,” you sigh on an exhale before slipping to sleep off again.

“Well?” 

There are two beats between his first question and his next: the unfilled gap you’ve left in the conversation and the cab’s trunk shutting firmly. “‘s that cool with you?”

Seokmin stares at you, staring at him. His expression is soft, like your lack of responsiveness is something to be fond of, rather than annoyed by. It’s unexpectant, too, leaving the door wide open.

You blink. “Sorry — I — What did you say?” 

Hitting him when he least expects it, you shift your suitcase from your dominant hand so you can gesture properly to the bright, poorly crocheted bucket hat flopping over his forehead. “It’s a bit hard to hear you. That hat is so loud.”

His quizzically raised eyebrows drop in an instant. Likewise, that airy smile of his flattens into a straight line. 

Bullseye.

“Is it me that you hate?” He asks, tone dead serious as he points his finger towards his own chest. “Or is it the very concept of whimsy?”

You’re too busy biting back a grin to protest when, without being asked, Seokmin reaches out and takes the handle of your suitcase into his own hand, as well as the garment bag you’d draped over your arm. Before turning away to abscond with both sets of luggage in addition to his own, he shoots you an incredulous look. It dissolves entirely before his face even disappears from view. 

“This is an objectively delightful hat,” he mutters, nonetheless, in furtherance of the bit.

He spots a member of hotel staff standing on the sidewalk directly outside the hotel’s double doors and pleads his case to them. “She made me this hat, you know,” he announces, gesturing back to you with a nod.

The valet’s uniform hat casts a shadow under the lamplight, but it doesn’t do enough to hide the expression on their face. It is abundantly clear — even in the dark — that they didn’t hear a single word Seokmin said before he offered up that bit of trivia, seemingly apropos of nothing. They muster up a customer-service smile that doesn’t reach their eyes and tell him it’s a wonderful hat. Meanwhile, you roll your eyes from behind because nothing either of them just said is true.

That hat is the byproduct of delusions of grandeur and innumerable skeins of color-conflicting yarn. You made it for yourself, believing that you were the kind of cute and kitschy person who could pull it off; and inconsolable weeping Christ, were you wrong. It was — no, is — your greatest fiber arts failure.

Frankenstein’s floral monster would be in a secondhand shop somewhere if you’d had any say in the matter. It isn’t because you didn’t. Seokmin “rescued” it from the “to donate” pile on your bedroom floor. Since then, he’s worn it at every — public — opportunity, season be damned.

Admittedly, he’s exactly the kind of cute and kitschy person who can pull it off, but you’ve decided out of sheer pettiness to keep that appraisal to yourself.

You take your time catching up to him, both because his long legs make it hard to keep pace; and because the room is reserved under his name. After all, he’s the welcomed guest, not the reluctant party-crasher. The receptionist is already handing him a white keycard when you finally reach the desk. Seokmin holds it up between his index and middle fingers, closed-eye grin sparkling in a matching shade of ivory.

Though the journey up to your shared room is long, the real trip is being confined to an elevator with mirrors for walls. 

No matter how hard you try to avert your eyes, you manage to keep finding some new, horrible angle of your stale, post-train state. It’s torture. Three versions of you stare back with deep, dark undereye circles; and all you can think about is how dull your complexion is — especially in comparison to Seokmin, who may as well be bioluminescent with the way he glows from the inside out.

It’s joy, you know, his primary state of being and something he radiates like no other. He’s happy to be here, happy that you’re here, and happy to be happy. Whether or not he means it to be, it’s infectious. Now, you feel yourself starting to smile, too.

Despite your quiet observation, you must have missed him looking at you. Seemingly out of nowhere, he carefully sets down your belongings, raises his now-empty hand, and cups the right side of your jaw. Unaware that you’ve frozen solid, he swipes his thumb carefully over your cheek, tilting his own head to the side and frowning.

“I got you bad, huh?”

You blink.

“The zipper on my coat,” he explains, laughing. “Looks like it took a bite out of you when you used me as a pillow on the train.”

For reasons you can’t possibly explain, the only word to roll off your tongue is a sheepish, “Sorry.”

For a second, Seokmin is just as confused as you are about whether you’re needlessly apologizing to him or his coat. He chuckles quietly at how easily distracted you both are, then he gets back to the point: “Does it hurt?”

“No.” 

Your response comes unnaturally quick. Your pulse does, too, when you finally make eye contact with him. After clearing your throat, you give him a half-hearted smile, ignoring whatever medical event you seem to be experiencing. “I didn’t know it was there until now.”

He hums in acknowledgment, then rescinds his hand. You watch in silence while he re-encumbers himself with your luggage and turns back to face the elevator doors, which open almost immediately.

Seokmin steps out easily, like the weight of your respective burdens doesn’t mean a thing. “I’d say this way, please, but I’ve already forgotten the room number,” he admits with a sheepish laugh. “The keycard’s in my pocket.”

You take his cue and reach into the front, right pocket of his coat for the keycard. As soon as you see the room number, you snort.

“You booked room number 218 because that’s your birthday, and then… what? You forgot your own birthday?” 

“I’m deeply flawed.” He sighs, put-upon. “Now, let’s go, Bambi. It feels like you packed a week’s worth of bricks.”

There’s no time to point out that you never asked him to carry your suitcase or bag for you in the first place. Likewise, there’s no opportunity to ask exactly how many bricks is a week’s worth. He’s on the move again before you can blink, energy evident in each step regardless of how late it is.

Once again, you follow Seokmin’s lead. Despite the signage, which is clearly visible on the wall, he walks confidently in the wrong direction, prompting you to grab him gently by the elbow and steer him the opposite way. His smile doesn’t falter; he plays it off as if he was just testing how closely you’re paying attention. 

It takes several turns down several additional hallways before the pair of you reach your target. When you come to room 218, you tap the keycard against the reader, causing the lock to click open. You turn the handle, push the door open into the room, and step awkwardly out of the way so your personal bellhop can get by.

“This is what I was trying to tell you when you so viciously insulted my favorite accessory.” Seokmin nods his head towards the center of the room. “All of the rooms Seonmi included in the reservation block have a king-sized bed — singular. The rooms outside the block are criminally overpriced for ski season.”

It’s far from the first time you’ve doubled up, so you shrug. “Just like old times, right? Like, when you thought your house was haunted, and you forced your way into the top bunk with me?”

“First of all,” he says as he sets both of your suitcases down and places one hand on his hip, the other pointing at you. “We were six.”

After locking the door behind you, you toe off your shoes, smirking at him from over your shoulder. “What’s your second point?”

“It was haunted —” He insists. Then his stern expression melts into something smug, the way it always does when he’s about to blatantly rewrite history. “— and you asked me to come up there because you were scared.”

A laugh slips out of you automatically, but you selflessly decide to let him have this. Crossing to him, you pat him on the bicep, patronizingly simpering all the while, “You are the brave one.”

Even though you’re both cowards, and he knows it, he pockets this little victory with a pleased hum and a grin.

Turning away from him, you make a beeline for the closet area near the door. There, you shuck off your coat and hang it up, out of the way. While you do, Seokmin passes you both your garment bag and his. From there, the pair of you work in efficient silence: you, pulling your respective formal wear from their bags and smoothing out any wrinkles; him, tucking away your extensive collection of toiletries in the bathroom.

When everything is in its place, you turn back around and notice for the first time how beautiful the room actually is. Though the shades of the floor-to-ceiling windows are almost completely drawn, the snow-covered mountains are at least partially visible through the gap in fabric. If you had the time, you’d spend all day tomorrow sitting on the forest green, velvet chaise directly in front of the window, staring at frosty peaks so massive, they feel close enough to touch.

To your right, an electric fireplace heats the room, while a portrait-framed television hovers on the wall above the mantle, flipping through famous artworks as a screensaver. In between flashes of Van Gogh’s Almond Blossoms and Klimt’s The Kiss, you catch a glimpse of Seokmin’s smile reflecting on the black screen.

Awestruck, you turn to him and sigh, “Don’t let me get used to this.”

He jerks his thumb to his right, gesturing towards the bathroom. “Don’t judge me if I steal one of the bathrobes. They’re probably more expensive than half the shit in my apartment.”

“I won’t, but they’ll bill you for it when they figure it out,” you warn him. “On that note, do you need to shower or anything before I start my skincare side quest?”

Seokmin shakes his head, causing the crocheted abomination to flop. “All yours. My hair’ll get weird if I don’t deal with it tomorrow before we head out.”

And with that mental image of his insurmountable cowlick, you quickly grab your pajamas and shuffle off towards the bathroom.

The first few seconds after you close the door are spent gawking at the insanely intricate, geometric tile pattern in the walk-in shower. Thinking of how much time it must’ve taken to lay each one of them, you set to work on your own tedious task: your ten-step regimen of cleansers, toners, serums, and moisturizers. Seokmin says otherwise, but you don’t think any of them truly make a difference. As stupid as you know it is, the routine itself is therapeutic, even if your skin is no more bouncy and glowy than it was before.

When it’s all said and done, you emerge from the bathroom to find your best friend stretched out on the half of the bed nearest the door with his eyes fixed on his phone screen. It’s the side of the room he always chooses, claiming that it’s to protect you from any intruders, but you know the truth: he’s too much of a freeze baby to sleep near the window, and he knows you like it cold.

“Feeling refreshed?” He mumbles to the best of his ability; his sweatshirt hood is pulled up and drawn so tightly that it squishes his cheeks and chin, restricting his movement.

Chuckling quietly as you go, you pad over to your half of the bed and slip under the comforter. Like a moth to a flame, the other occupant sends his last text, tosses his phone to the side, and scoots closer to you, eager to siphon whatever extra body heat he can. His head winds up on your shoulder, while your cheek rests against the top of his head.

“Before you tell me that I look it, I’d encourage you to stare long into the abyss that is my under-eye circles.”

When he laughs, it’s merely a puff of air from his nose. “You never look as tired as you feel,” he says distractedly, fiddling with the drawstrings of his hoodie. “Pretty miraculous, given how little sleep you get.”

That comment warms you up so thoroughly, you wonder if he can feel it. Then, you wonder if that was the point. You intend to tease him for that, but then it dawns on you how fidgety he’s being. It’s rare for him.

“You okay, Thumper?”

It feels silly, using that nickname after so long. Your clumsiness stuck around for the ride, continuing Bambi into perpetuity; but he grew out of his companion name when he hit puberty, and his giant feet were suddenly proportional to the rest of him. 

He’s certainly no bunny, nor is he a child, but the low ebb of anxiety rolling off of him reminds you of the scared little neighbor boy you used to know. It fits, even if it is silly.

At first, Seokmin begins his explanation without peeling his gaze off his restless fingers. “Apparently, Seungcheol and Mingyu are in town.”  Then, his eyes slowly lift up to find you peering down at him. “They want to meet up to go snowboarding before we leave.”

Ah.

There it is: the top-secret look in his eye that only you can decipher. The one he’s been practicing for years, at your insistence, for moments like this, when he needs to be talked into something. When he needs to be brave and avoid missing out on something he’d love, solely because it freaks him out.

You respond the same way you always have; the way you once pinky-promised you always would: “I triple-dog dare you.”

He sighs deeply, neither fully resigned nor relieved, but then he nods. His head knocks slightly against your shoulder as he does. “I’ll do it.”

And that’s that; it’s settled.

Or so you think.

A beat passes in silence, until Seokmin suddenly pipes up again, “But you’re going to have to hold my hand on the chair lift, or I’ll pass out and fall to my death.”

“Deal.” 

You grab his hand now in consideration of your promise and scratch affectionately at his palm. Surprisingly, his thoughts haven’t made him clammy. His skin is even softer than usual, likely due to the expensive hotel lotion he’s undoubtedly now harboring in his suitcase. Tongue firmly in cheek, you look at him sideways. 

“Just — leave the hat in your suitcase, okay? The snow will be blinding enough.”

Seokmin’s been dressed and ready for at least thirty minutes, but you’re still standing exactly where you have been for the last forty-five. Face pinched, you turn this way and that in front of the mirror, smoothing fabric that’s already wrinkle-free, apparently for the hell of it.

“I’m oh-for-three.” Your exasperated sigh is punctuated by your bare, right foot stomping on the carpet. It doesn’t make the impact you likely hope it will, at least sonically. It does, however, speak volumes about how close to the ledge you are.

“All of them looked good,” he says earnestly. “I think this one is my favorite, though, if that means anything.”

Apparently, this is the wrong answer. Your wild-eyed gaze lifts from your own reflection until you’re staring him dead in the eye through the mirror.

“Why did I even pack this?” You ask, “Do you see this?”

Suddenly, you lift a manicured hand to point at your neckline, from which he’d admittedly been averting his eyes. “This is too much cleavage for a family function, isn’t it?”

As quickly as you glanced at him in the first place, you go right back to fussing with your dress, thankfully missing the way he swallows thickly.

Fuck, now he’s staring — but you’re the one that made him look in the first place — and he can feel heat rising to his ears, a dead giveaway. His sudden silence does enough to communicate his struggle. He has no idea how to respond without vaulting over the boundaries of your friendship.

Is it hot in here?

Deciding to rely on his usual tactic, he jokes his way out.

“If you think I’ll ever side against tiddie…” He forces a grimace, shaking his head gravely. “Then you really don’t know me at all.”

You laugh loudly, and whatever one-sided tension filled the room snaps like a twig. Better still, the smile you give him stays on your face while you reassess your dress. Seokmin takes it as a personal victory that you commit to his choice, rather than cycle back through your options for the second time. 

While this means that you’ll both be able to hit the open bar sooner rather than later, the biggest upside is that he no longer has to keep excusing himself to the bathroom so you can change again, and again, and again.

You finish up quickly, tossing on jewelry, and then turn to him. His shoulder keeps you steady while you slip into your devilishly high heels. Seokmin pays them little mind now, however; his attention is drawn to the accessories you’ve chosen. Sure, they match perfectly with the rest of your outfit, but that’s not what strikes him. It’s the fact that everything you’ve picked was gifted to you by his parents at one point or another.

Unable to stop himself, he reaches out and gently taps on one of your dangling earrings. “Eighteenth birthday,” he muses to himself. 

Then, both his gaze and his hand lower to your necklace. He skims his fingertip along the delicate, gold chain, inadvertently making you freeze up. “Christmas 2019?”

You shake your head slightly, though it barely counts as movement.

“Ah,” Seokmin corrects himself. “2020.”

Sensing that he’s somehow made you uncomfortable, he reels himself back in and clears his throat. “Shall we?” He asks, furnishing you with a bent arm to loop yours through.

You take his cue, link your arm to his, and sigh, “I suppose we shall.”

The walk to the elevator is quiet, in that neither one of you says a thing. Seokmin can hear the gears in your head turning, though, without any conversation to drown them out. 

You step inside that glorified, mirrored box; and for a few minutes, he lets you work through the thing he knows ruined your sleep last night. That is, until he hears your breathing come a little quicker than usual.

“Hey.” 

It was supposed to be a jumping off point. He was going to go from there and reiterate that you belong here with him. The plan was to reassure you for as long as it takes to get you to believe it, but you look up at him almost helplessly, and his Etch-a-Sketch brain is wiped clean in an instant.

The very best he can do is smile and offer a single word: “Hi.”

“Hi,” you whisper back, eyes twinkling. 

Your plagued frown curves slightly back in the right direction. The creeping shroud of doom lightens, if only a little bit.

“That’ll do, pig.” You swat his arm, but he says it again, emphatically, “That’ll do.”

Halfway through you scolding him for quoting Babe at a time like this, the elevator door reopens, ready to regurgitate the pair of you out onto the ballroom level. 

Unlike the lobby, which sits only one floor below, this floor looks like it was ripped straight from the pages of a fantasy novel. Everywhere he turns, there’s something new — and vaguely elven — to look at. Fairy lights hang in perfectly spaced arches from the lofted ceiling, delicately illuminating the exposed, wooden beams above. The chandeliers — plural — are crafted out of antlers of some kind, cutting between rugged and highly refined.

As stunning as it all is, Seokmin’s mind snags on a single conclusion. You’re the one who voices it, though, much to his surprise.

“This is the most Seonmi thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” you whisper to him, all without taking your eyes off the extravagance in front of you. “Is this a dress rehearsal for her wedding next year?”

He bites down on his lips hard to keep his laughter to himself. Of course, you’re dead on. Nothing about this space feels like his parents, who are supposed to be the sole focus of this entire event. He already found it odd that they agreed to such a big to-do in the first place — especially when it would require their loved ones to go out of their way, literally and financially — but this is….

“Am I being petty, or is this kind of… selfish?”

Petty, no. 

Psychic? Probably.

“You’re right, and you should say it.” Seokmin nods and withdraws his arm from yours so that he can drape it properly around your shoulder. “This way to the beer, please. We’ll need it.”

Merely four steps in the direction to the bar, and a screech rings out from somewhere neither of you can locate. In fact, Seokmin’s head is turned the opposite way when someone launches themself at you, damn near ripping you from his hold.

“Oh, my god! I knew you’d come!”

Soyeon’s relief in seeing you is palpable. Seokmin can practically feel his bones being crushed as she hugs you tight, swaying from side to side. He catches a glimpse of your expression, which barely peeks through the curtain of his oldest sister’s hair; you’re far happier now than you were in the elevator.

His sister kisses the side of your head. “I missed you so fucking much. I love my residency program, but I hate how far away it keeps me.”

A solid minute passes by like this. When it starts to get unbearable, Seokmin clears his throat, hoping to remind his sister that she hasn’t seen him in months, either; and he’s also standing right here.

Instead of greeting him, Soyeon shoots you a wry smile. “Who is he today? A fugitive you’re harboring?”

In tandem, the two of you appraise him with thoughtfully narrowed eyes. See, this he didn’t miss: being both of his sisters’ least favorite younger sibling.

“Oh, no, though I can see why you think that.” You shake your head, then reach out to pat his shoulder patronizingly. “If anyone asks, this is a foreign diplomat, and I’m the interpreter he can’t understand a word without. Best not say hi to him; he won’t know what you’re saying.”

Soyeon nods, though Seokmin wonders if she truly  gets what you’re trying to achieve. Not quite, he realizes a moment later. Instead, she covers his chin with her hand so she can squeeze both his cheeks at once.

“He’s adorable,” she coos. “Doesn’t look old enough or mature enough for diplomacy, though.”

Seokmin rolls his eyes. “Well, we can’t all be doctors, can we?”

Again, in tandem, all eyes on him widen with feigned shock. Between overlapping gasps of “he does understand!” and “someone’s been studying!”, he shakes off his sister’s touch and scowls.

“If you’re going to keep bullying me, can you at least do it at the bar? That way, I can numb my suffering with booze.”

At this, Soyeon drops the charade and pulls him into a hug like a vice grip. She holds him so tightly that his vision starts to get spotty. It’s not until he gently pats her back, begging for air, that she lets him go.

“I missed you too, Thumper,” she swears, prompting you to snicker.

Now, he’s annoyed for a completely different reason — one that makes even less sense to him. That nickname hasn’t bothered him in the last decade, so it shouldn’t now. Then again, the only person who’s called him Thumper since middle school is you.

The rules are different for you, if they exist at all.

“And I promise to catch up with you later, but I’ve got five thousand questions for Bambi, and the answers aren’t half as juicy with you around.”

Just like that, his plus-one is subtracted.

As much as you love Soyeon, she’s no Seokmin. With him, talking is easy; he never rushes to fill silences, doesn’t steer the conversation with a white-knuckled grip. 

On the contrary, his oldest sister comes forward with a pickaxe, smashing through small talk while she mines for the wild stories she thinks she’s missed out on since moving away.

You don’t blame her, really. If you spent all your hours in a hospital, only sleeping in the lulls between other people’s trauma, you’d probably become just as intense — the human equivalent of a cracked-open fire hydrant — in the search for closeness, too.

In the thirty minutes you sit with her, you brief her on all the cliffhangers you’d left her with the last time you saw her.

Yes, you’re still stuck with your lease in the same apartment; and the old lady next door still regularly sets off the building’s fire alarm by accident.

No, you decided not to stay with Kai and haven’t spoken since the breakup; he needed more of your time and energy than you wanted to sacrifice for him.

No, Seokmin still hasn’t gone out with anyone that you know of in months. In fact, it’s been so long since either of you have touched on this topic, especially compared to how little time he and the last girl were together, that you can’t even remember her name. 

Beyond that first, limited fact, you keep your mouth shut about the rest. It’s not your business to share; and it wouldn’t kill her to ask Seokmin about himself for once.

The longer you spend with her, the more frustrated you find yourself getting, although you keep this fact to yourself, too. Soyeon and Seonmi have both spent their lives fussing about Seokmin, talking about him like he’s some helpless baby, without doing much to get to know him.

That’s it.

If you were at all confident that Soyeon would take the initiative, you’d let her find all of this out on her own. She won’t, you know, but maybe it’ll sink in if she hears it from you.

“Seokmin’s doing really well, now that you mention it,” you offer, though she barely mentioned him in the first place. “He got promoted last month; he’s now lead architect on that massive commercial lot downtown. Apparently, it’s still a secret, whatever it is they’re putting there. Must be something special.”

Seokmin is something special, you all but yell inside your head.

Soyeon’s eyes brighten. 

Nobody loves secrets quite like she does. You wait for the barrage, anticipating all the questions to which you’ll have to respond with “seriously, I don’t know,” but they don’t come.

Instead, she puts her drink back on its coaster, reaches out, and squeezes your wrist with her slightly chilled hand. “I’m grateful that he’s always had you, Bambi. If he didn’t, I don’t know if he’d lean in to opportunities like that.”

The look on her face tells you she means it. Maybe that’s what makes your stomach sour: that she can sit there, hearing of Seokmin’s accomplishments, and still find a way not to credit him for them.

Anger ignites inside of you. The flames lick up your esophagus, ready to explode, and you suck in a breath with every intention of letting her burn.

But then an arm slinks around your waist. Seokmin’s head bumps slightly against yours until you’re cheek to cheek.

“I hope I’m interrupting something.”

For a second, you think his slight tipsiness caused him to misspeak. Tilting your head to the side the best you can, you look at him out of the corner of your eye and catch his very subtle wink.

Soyeon opens her mouth, but Seokmin makes his wish a reality.

“Sorry, sis,” Seokmin says, entirely unapologetically. “I just found out that the band takes requests; and I’ll be goddamned if Bambi and I don’t show you clowns the meaning of dance.”

It takes no encouragement whatsoever for you to slip off your stool, get to your feet, and inch your way closer to his side. Then, like a starting gun was fired, the two of you bolt clumsily away from the bar, with you shouting “sorry!” over your shoulder as you go.

Your heels skid against the dance floor when you finally reach it, but Seokmin steadies you before you can eat shit in front of god and everyone.

“You’re way too expressive, you know that?” The fact that he’s out-of-breath doesn’t keep him from laughing. “I could’ve seen that grumpy turtle face of yours from space.”

Unintentionally, you prove his point, drawing your eyebrows together and frowning. “I do not —”

“— Also, I lied,” he interrupts yet again.

This, coupled with the everything else going on, leaves you too stunned to speak.

“This band is all trot, all the time. They don’t take requests — trust me, I tried — but if you stay here with me long enough, we can kill two birds with one stone.”

Seokmin doesn’t wait for you to answer because he knows it’s a yes. He doesn’t wait for you to assume your position, either, and instead holds your left hand in his right before placing your right on his left shoulder. This close, you feel the urge to tell him how handsome he looks with his hair parted off his forehead. You don’t, however.

The music swells behind you. Seokmin leads, and you follow, swaying slowly and moving across the floor.

“Two birds?” You remember to ask, one eyebrow arched.

His right arm lifts. “Spin,” he whispers. You step under his arm, then twirl. While you’re facing the opposite direction, he continues, “There. Do you see it?”

“Oh, my god.”

You do.

The bar stool you were just occupying is now filled by Seokmin’s great-uncle, Hajoon, while his new and much younger girlfriend, Yunhee, hovers near his shoulder. Even from this distance, you can see the look of abject distress on Soyeon’s face, totally unhidden by her attempt to seem engaged.

You return to your position in front of Seokmin, your hand accidentally landing on his bicep, rather than his shoulder. Flustered by the deceptive bulk there, you immediately scoot your palm back to where it belongs.

He leans in so that only you can hear him. It doesn’t feel necessary at all, given how loud the band’s horn section is, but you don’t recoil this time. 

“They had me trapped over by the appetizers,” he explains, low voice making you shiver involuntarily. “Every time he started a story with when I was your age, I wanted to point out that Yunhee hadn’t been born yet.”

You can’t help the laugh that erupts out of you and therefore can’t pull your head away from Seokmin’s ear in time to save him. Instead of wincing or complaining, he looks at you and breaks into laughter of his own as soon as your eyes meet. The effect doubles, and before you know it, both of you are teary-eyed.

“How the hell did you get away from him?”

It’s a feat you've never once managed. Uncle Hajoon’s inability to read a room is equal parts due to his horrible hearing and his tendency to never stop talking. Even if he did leave space in the conversation for you to excuse yourself, you’d never successfully get the message across.

Seokmin lifts his arm again but not for you. He takes his leave to spin himself, simpering as he goes, “That’s where Yunhee came in handy, actually. I didn’t know she had it in her, but she’s not as much of a dud as we initially thought.”

“Oh?”

“She told him that I should be able to dance with my girlfriend, and he shouldn’t keep me any longer.” He shrugs. “It didn’t seem like the time to correct her.”

All the heat in your body goes straight to your cheeks. Nonetheless, you attribute it to the dancing and choke out, “No royalties for me, then.”

“Not this time.” Seokmin shakes his head. “I said that Soyeon was trying to catch up with everyone and would love to hear his stories.”

You bite back a grin. “You’re a bastard, you know that?”

“Maybe.” He smiles with every single one of his teeth. “But you’re free.”

“Surprisingly so. I haven’t felt the Eye of Sauron on me at all yet.” Just in case your statement serves as a jinx, you glance around the room for Seonmi. The tension you’ve been keeping in each one of your muscles slackens when, once again, your radar is blip-free.

“Dinner was supposed to start ten minutes ago. If I had to guess, she’s either leaving a scathing Yelp review or personally waterboarding the chef as we speak.”

“Both at the same time,” you counter, earning a wry smile. “She inherited your mom’s self-assuredness. If she believes she can, she will.”

After the pair of you dance through two more songs, the band breaks, and the hotel’s battalion of waiters come in, bearing domed, silver trays. Seokmin takes off in a hurry for your assigned table in the far corner of the ballroom, so famished that he barely remembers to tug you along behind him.

Through the meal and all its complimentary wine pairings, you do your best to focus on the conversation. Seokmin introduced you to the few people sitting with you that you haven’t had the occasion to meet yet. While he does what comes naturally to him, charming them with ease, you struggle for the first time to pay attention to him.

A few tables over, Seonmi sits down with her fiancé, joining the company of her parents; Soyeon and her date are there, too, leaving Seokmin out by design. Like an insane person, you can only watch her, rather than Seokmin’s blatant theft of bites from your plate. She laughs at whatever jokes her mother cracks, but you’d recognize that look of veiled angst anywhere. She isn’t happy, you realize. You can’t avoid the feeling that you’re the reason why she isn’t.

Time passes, somehow too quickly and too slowly. The plates are emptied, then cleared away by the wait staff — except for your half-empty glass, which is your third. Much like the other guests at your table, the joyful buzz you’d been feeling so far leaves, too.

All that’s left is you, Seokmin, and that ominous, storm cloud you can’t seem to shake.

“You’ll probably feel better if you talk to her.”

He’s always more observant than you give him credit for. You snap out of your zoned-out stare across the room in order to look at him. You frown. “I doubt it. She already looks pissed. Me parading my presence here despite her isn’t going to help anything.”

“Bambi,” Seokmin sighs, not impatient but gentle. “She’s not exactly warm, but she has always liked you. There’s literally no reason why she wouldn’t be happy to see you —”

You open your mouth to argue.

“— that happened over twenty years ago, and you really need to stop feeling guilty about it —”

You close your mouth, cross your arms self-consciously, and sink in your seat. Despite yourself, you glance over at him and catch the way he’s looking at you. He doesn’t need to say the words out loud for you to hear them.

It’s either the unspoken dare, his reassuring, soft-eyed smile, or all the blasted merlot that does you in. You’re not sure which of the three was the coup de grâce, and as you slink off towards her table, you realize it doesn’t matter. For one reason or another, you’ve decided that fear isn’t going to get the better of you this time.

Seonmi somehow senses you coming. Even without the band underscoring your movement, your timid steps across the mahogany parquet should’ve been impossible for anyone to pick up on. 

Must be an older sister thing, you think, being doomed to keep a perpetual eye on others. 

She doesn’t say anything when you slip into the chair next to her, which doesn’t bode well but isn’t a deal breaker, in and of itself. The important thing is that she doesn’t get up to leave. You tell yourself that this is a good sign. The knot in your stomach begs to differ, however.

Say something.

Say anything.

“Everything’s… lovely, Seonmi, seriously.” You gesture around you, smiling, but she only gives you a cursory look. “You’ve really outdone yourself with this one.”

Seonmi takes a sip of her cocktail — something bitter, the petty voice in your head assumes — and lets the corner of her mouth rise slightly. If it’s the closest thing you’ll get to a smile, you’ll take it. She hasn’t granted you a proper one in the decades since you got gum in her favorite Barbie’s hair.

“Thanks, kid,” she sighs, setting the drink back down on her personalized, cardboard coaster.

You can’t remember the last time she called you “Bambi”, let alone your real name. Just like Seokmin, you’ve always been a child to her. Apparently, you always will be, no matter what you do.

Her grip around the glass remains rigid, not unlike her overall posture. Condensation weeps under and around her manicured fingers, uninhibited. You watch those droplets soak through the coaster’s design, darkening her parents’ initials and wedding date, while you mull over whose turn it is to talk.

Ultimately, as is usually the case, Seonmi makes this decision for you. Without so much as a glance at you out of the corner of her eye, she muses, “It was a lot of work, getting all the details ironed out.”

You pick up on the subtext immediately. One of those details would’ve been the guest list; another, the invitations. Seokmin assumed it was all an accident and said as much to you no fewer than a hundred times, but this little comment from his sister blows his assurances to smithereens. 

Your exclusion wasn’t an accident at all.

Suddenly, somehow, the room is twenty degrees colder. You shoot a panicked glance over to where Seokmin was just sitting, wanting nothing more than to slink back to his warmth with your tail between your legs; but he’s not where you left him. In fact, he’s nowhere to be found.

Fuck.

“Ah,” is the best you can do.

And then the two of you sit awkwardly in silence while the seconds age in dog years.

You should’ve brought a drink over with you so you’d have something to do with your hands. Or your phone — except you left it on its charger, you idiot — or a time machine, so you can revoke your bullshit decision to walk over here in the first —

“He deserves that, don’t you think?”

The combined suddenness of her voice and the switch in topics makes you jolt ever so slightly. You try to pass it off, to pretend that you’re simply adjusting the skirt of your dress, but your efforts go unnoticed. Seonmi is too busy pointing casually ahead, drawing your focus to the center of the dance floor.

Like absolutely no one else is watching, Mr. Lee twirls around his laughing wife, his heart-shaped smile beaming so brightly that it almost hurts your eyes. The love of his life has to hold one of her hands over her mouth to keep her laughter from bursting out; the other hand is raised with the rest of that arm, allowing her husband to spin himself underneath. When he’s halfway through, she surprises him, drops her arm down, and embraces him fully, giggling all the while.

It almost makes you tear up — Mr. Lee’s unabashed, silly love, and how much it reminds you of his spitting-image of a son; the way Seokmin’s mother’s eyes sparkle in the same blissful, radiant way his do. Maybe the same can’t be said for his older sisters, but it’s abundantly clear where Seokmin came from. It’s even clearer where he should end up.

“Yes,” you breathe, and it almost sounds like a laugh because of course, he does. Before you can stop yourself, you ask, “Is that really a question?”

No, you realize too late, it’s bait.

Without batting an eye, she counters, “Is it really so hard for you to let him have that?”

Seonmi turns her head to look you dead in the eye. Confusingly, despite her words, there’s nothing in her tone or gaze that reads like malice. If anything, the slight furrow of her brow shouts concern.

Your mind is spinning too fast to keep up with. Whatever her next move is, you’re too dizzy now to see it coming and too disoriented to follow it. With the knot in your stomach tightening further, you stammer, “Is — what?”

“God,” Seonmi drops her face into her hands. “You don’t get it, do you?”

A fish on dry land, all you seem to know how to do is open and close your mouth. You may not be literally flailing, but with the state your mind is in, you may as well start.

“Seokmin loves love.” 

She says each of these words slowly, like she’s trying to hammer each nail through a thick skull. 

“It’s the one thing he’s wanted most since he was a kid, yet I can count on one hand the number of short-term relationships he’s been in. He doesn’t ever bring anyone home to meet us; he doesn’t bring anyone to weddings, or parties, or holidays; he just brings you.”

Of course, you’ve been right there through all of his situationships. He’s always scant on details when they end — and you’ve never pressed for any — but you know better than anyone that nothing has stuck long-term. 

You’ve never thought about how odd this really is, but with Seonmi spelling it out for you now, you can’t come up with a single, good reason why someone as objectively incredible as Seokmin can’t make these things work — or why, even as you rack your brain, the only constant you can find in his life is you.

She glares now, as if she’s daring you to speak; as if you’ve got anything she’d deem worth adding. The bulldozer revs up again, whether you’re ready or not: “You’ve always been the only person he saves space for, whether or not there’s a place for you, and he has no room left in his life for someone to love him like that —” 

Seonmi points again to her parents, who are circling slowly on the dance floor, talking softly to one another. 

“So, what is it? Do you truly not see what he’s missing, or are you choosing not to because you like his attention?”

Your eyes burn with tears, but you can’t let them fall, and you can’t wrap your head around why that is. 

Who are you hiding them from: Seonmi or yourself?

The longer she stares at you, the muddier it gets. You don’t want her to be right. You don’t want to be the kind of person she’s describing; but there’s something awful whispering in the back of your mind, saying that you might be. 

You’ve left every relationship you’ve been in, telling everyone who asks in the aftermath that you like being on your own better. But that’s bullshit. It’s not your own company that you keep when you’re single; it Seokmin’s. 

He makes sure that you never spend a day feeling alone, that he’s always available over the phone in the rare times he’s not physically with you. As his best friend, he treats you better than every single one of your exes ever has. Like you’re worth more than anyone else will credit you.

What kind of friend are you if you feel relieved whenever his relationships expire?

Seonmi’s hand drops, landing half-heartedly clenched on the tabletop. Just the same, her voice drops until it’s almost a whisper. 

“I am begging you,” she pleads, eyes narrowing desperately as they search yours. “If you don’t want him, someone else will. Please just —  get the hell out of their way.”

By the time you reach the elevator, all you’re left with is a blur. You’ve already forgotten how the conversation ended, or which one of you was the first to get up. If she said anything else to you, it was drowned out by your own hammering pulse and a looping chorus of voices validating your biggest fear, stating in no uncertain terms that you don’t belong.

You’re shaking when you reach your floor. Heels clicking under unsteady footsteps, you make for room 218; and as you go, you shove your hand into the well-concealed pocket of your dress for the keycard Seokmin forgot to grab himself on the way out earlier.

He’s certainly not in the room when you finally step inside, although you have no clue where he’s gone. It’s for the best. The door closes behind you, and with no one to see it happen, you burst into tears.

All rational thought flies out the window, shaken off by the tornado of utter confusion tearing through your brain. You grab your suitcase, needing nothing more than to be anywhere else, and begin haphazardly throwing your things back inside of it.

Why did you still come with him, knowing it wouldn’t end well? It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve told him no; he would’ve listened if you truly meant it.

If you didn’t mean it when you initially tried to squirrel your way out of this, why not? Was it just your friend asking sincerely that won you over without a fight; or was it because you knew, deep down, it’d hurt to see him bring someone else?

Why would it hurt?

The answer to that will crack the foundation of everything the two of you have built, but only if you admit it to yourself. It can’t threaten you if you don’t say it out loud, don’t make it real.

So, you won’t. 

You’ll bury it deeply enough to forget about, repour the concrete, and tiptoe through the rest of your life with your best friend still at your side.

That is, if your friendship survives the weekend — rather, your sudden departure from it — at all.

“Halmoni, it’s time to go back to your hotel, okay?” 

He coos this, as if he’s pleading with a toddler at bedtime, because that’s exactly what it feels like to wrangle the drunk, 80-year-old clinging to his arm.

Physically, she needs to hold onto Seokmin to keep herself steady. Mentally, she’s ready to run and has made several attempts to do just that when she thinks his guard is down. It’s no wonder the hotel staff cornered him and begged him for help; she’s too wily for those who don’t know her.

The manager had at least done him the courtesy of hailing a cab. It sits out front, warm and waiting, while he shepherds his grandmother through the lobby.

“— and another thing!” She slurs.

There is never not another thing. She shouldn’t bother concluding her sentences in the first place; she’s never done talking.

“I told your sister — I said, Sunny —”

Seonmi, he dares to presume, although he doesn’t dare to correct her.

“— you can’t have stuff like this —” She gestures animatedly, albeit vaguely around her. “— in places like this and expect retirees to pay for it! I said — oh, what did I say? — Ah, I said, ‘find me the cheapest motel in the area, or I’ll be staying in your room with you’ —”

Her kitten heels hit the brick outside with an angry thwump.

Seokmin can’t help himself. “She didn’t go for that?”

“No!” His grandmother squawks. 

The driver sees the ball of a woman wobbling his way and quickly exits the cab, skirts around it, and flings the back door open for her. 

“I can’t imagine why, halmoni,” he lies through his teeth, which shine down on her in his best, least sincere smile. “You’re a blast in a glass.”

She roars with laughter, even while two grown adults work together to pour her into the backseat without bumping her head on the doorframe. “Glast in a blass!”

“Exactly. Can you —?”

He gives up before he finishes voicing his request; it’s no use. Instead, he bends down to hug her and finagles the buckle of her seatbelt while she’s too distracted to fight him off. That click is the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard, after the clunk of the door shutting her in.

By the time Seokmin turns to the cab driver, his grandmother is fully slumped in her seat, pilled peacoat rising and falling with every wine-laced breath.

“I am so sorry.” He sighs, which devolves into a sheepish laugh, and fishes all of the cash out of his pocket. No tip could possibly cover the emotional toll of this ordeal, so he does his best and gives the driver everything he has.

The driver’s eyes widen. Seokmin gets the impression that he doesn’t quite understand the task he’s undertaking. 

Poor bastard.

Seokmin continues, “My grandfather is at the inn already; he didn’t feel well enough to come here, but he’ll be ready to get her inside once you drop her off.”

“Sounds easy enough.” The driver smiles and holds out his hand to shake. 

Seokmin reciprocates, and he declines to explain just how wrong that assessment is. He thanks the man and chirps a quick goodbye to his grandmother before rushing back inside.

Walking into the ballroom, he hopes to find you and Seonmi laughing about whatever misunderstanding had gotten in your way before. At the very least, he expects you to still be sitting next to each other at the same table. That would be good enough, he thinks; he could assist in repairing the situation from there.

The problem, it seems, is beyond his help. Neither one of you occupies the same table. If his quick scan tells him anything, you’re not even in the same room.

No matter which way he turns, he can’t spot you. His sister, on the other hand, is near the far corner, having what looks like a nightmarish conversation with their parents. There are approximately five billion things Seokmin would rather do than get in the middle of that, but you don’t have your phone on you, and he has no other way to find out where you went.

Above the heads of the two women, Seokmin’s father catches sight of his approach. They lock eyes; there’s something insane in his father’s gaze. The older man shakes his head, mouthing “no.”

Seokmin stops short, raises his hands with the palms up to get across his confusion, and mouths back, “Bambi?”

In response, his father extends a single finger and points upwards. He then makes a shooing motion with his hand. His wife and daughter are so engrossed in their argument that neither of them catches the pantomime or Seokmin’s quick exit, back the way he came.

On the elevator ride upstairs, Seokmin worries. The most likely explanation is that you went to find your phone so that you could find him – but you haven’t texted or called him in the time he’s been looking for you, so he supposes it isn’t likely after all. 

Maybe, he thinks, the wine caught up to you. You’re not as strong a drinker as you think you are. While he walks down the hallway to room 218, he steels himself. Even though you both hate it, he’s ready to hold your hair if he walks in and finds you with your head in the toilet. That dress looks too good on you not to be expensive; he’d rather talk you out of your embarrassment tomorrow than have you shell out for dry-cleaning.

You didn’t deadbolt the door behind you, which strikes him as odd. In fact, you didn’t even close it properly; it isn’t latched. All he has to do is tap on it for the door to open.

“Bambi?” He calls out before stepping inside entirely, thinking it’s only decent to confirm in advance that he’s not an intruder. “Sorry for disappearing. I had to pour my grandmother into a cab – it was exactly as awful as it sounds.”

The faint rustling sound he hears isn’t coming from the bathroom, which is both dark and unoccupied. Part of him wants to take this as a good sign, but the rest of him wonders if he’s walking in on a burglary. That flicker of fear is followed by a stupid sense of validation: 

You always laugh at him when he cites this as his reason for choosing the bed closest to the door; you claim it’s statistically unlikely. Finally being able to say “I told you so” after a robbery wouldn’t make either of your belongings magically reappear, of course. That said, it might make him feel a little better.

But the figure rooting through your suitcase isn’t a bandit at all. It’s you with your coat on.

“Um,” he starts, unintentionally startling you. “What is….” 

His question peters out when you look up at him. There are broken mascara tracks down your cheeks, as if you tried to wipe them off without actually looking at them. Above them, your wide eyes are wet, like you’re seconds away from crying all over again. Even worse, you’re trembling.

Seokmin’s only instinct is to reach for you. Before he can wrap his arms around you, you jerk away from him. “Please don’t.”

So, he stops, though he doesn’t understand why. This is quite literally the only time in your life that you’ve pushed him away.

“What’s going on?” Ideally, he’d project calm at a time like this. He just sounds desperate. “What happened with Seonmi?”

“She — um, she didn’t — It wasn’t that bad; I’m just… You know how sensitive I get when I drink wine.”

Like a switch flips, a half-hearted smile takes over the bottom half of your face. It’s not real; if it was, your eyes would light up and crinkle at the corners. Whatever that look is, it’s bullshit.

Seokmin gestures to your suitcase, where everything you brought with you has been unceremoniously shoved. “Sensitive enough to, what, run away? No. I’m not buying it. She said something — or did something — to make you this upset. Bambi, what happened?”

His urgency is selfish, he knows it. Seonmi’s always been way too intuitive for her own good. There’s no way she hasn’t noticed the way he looks at you when you aren’t looking; how god-awful he is at acting platonic.

He tries — has been trying, for a long time now — to shake these feelings off because he knows you’re not emotionally available. Because he knows who he’s supposed to be for you, and how devastating it would be if he threw your friendship away.

That devastation is right in front of him now; and it’ll  push you out of his life forever if he doesn’t shut it down. He has to get in front of it.

You strike first, though. “Seokmin, why didn’t you bring anyone else?”

There are two ways for him to interpret that question: with the emphasis on anyone, meaning not you; or as an escape route. For your sake, he chooses the latter.

“She gave me a plus-one, not a plus-two,” he says softly.

Despite his tone, it must hit you like a punch. You nod curtly, once. “Got it. Basic math. Thanks, Seokmin; that was never my strongest subject.”

Foot, meet mouth.

You immediately set back to work, reaching for the lid of your suitcase to close and zip. Before he thinks once, let alone twice, his hand darts out and flattens against the mesh inner pocket on the top, preventing you from doing so.

“No.” He shakes his head firmly. “Not happening.”

You don’t scowl at him the way he expects, nor do you even stop to look at him. It’s far worse than that; your eyes start swimming, focused helplessly on your suitcase. 

When you speak, your voice cracks. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place. I knew that this invitation shit wasn’t an accident; I knew I wasn’t welcome to —”

“— You came anyway.” Seokmin doesn’t mean to snap at you, but the point is moot. Softening at the edges, he quickly continues, “And I’m glad that you did because I don’t want to be here with ‘anyone else’.”

It’s not the whole truth, so it may as well be a lie. You know him too well for him to get away with it; it was stupid of him to try. Your head turns, and the slight narrow of your eyes says it all.

I triple-dog dare you to tell me the truth.

This fork in the road has two dead ends. His only options are to do just that or double down and lie straight to your face, while you see straight through him. Either option pulls the pin, he figures, so it’s no longer a question of who gets hurt; it’s who gets hurt worse.

Seokmin jumps on the grenade.

“I don’t want to be with anyone else!”

It comes out too loudly, startling you. In a way, it’s angry, too. He wishes could project that anger onto Seonmi for starting shit, as usual, but the person he’s maddest at is himself for putting you both in this position.

For the first time ever, he can’t decipher the expression on your face. He’d shove his foot into his mouth to try and keep himself quiet, but his adrenaline is firing on all cylinders, and he can’t seem to stop shouting.

“And I’m really fucking sorry to say it because I know you don’t want to hear it, not from me or anyone else. So, you can leave, alright? I’m not going to stop you.”

The force of the surprise almost knocks the air out of him, so quick that Seokmin can’t process what’s happening until his back is flush to the wall behind him — until your hands, flat against his white button-up, curl to grip the fabric, and you kiss him so hard that he sees stars.

You’re surprised too, it seems. When you pull away, chest heaving, you freeze in the same way he does. Eyes searching the other’s, unsure of what to do now that twenty-plus years’ worth of boundaries have been blown to bits.

You whisper, “Are you still sorry?”

Of the five million feelings swelling inside of him — fear, kind of; joy, yes; fucked up by your blown-out pupils, definitely — regret isn’t one of them.

Actually…

He cups your face in his hands like water from a spring, drinks down the sight of you in this new and perfect light. “I’m only sorry that it took me this long to tell you,” he confesses before kissing you back twice as hard.

You’d ask Seokmin to pinch you and prove to you that you’re not dreaming, but the fear you feel at the thought of waking up is too overwhelming. 

Even if it wasn’t, he can’t help you, can he? 

His hands are far too busy.

Your pretty dress is long gone now, having been shucked off and tossed somewhere out of sight. In its place, it’s Seokmin’s body that now drapes over yours, warm in touch and tone, like molten gold. 

His middle and marriage fingers curl inside you, working you up again; and all you can do is cling desperately to his hair, whimper, and wait for the fall.

“I take back what I said earlier,” he murmurs between nips and kisses at your neck.

You can’t ask him to elaborate. You’re too close to careening over the edge for the second time tonight; too busy babbling fucking nonsense.

His simper against your throat reverberates all the way down, lights up your every nerve in tandem like a switchboard. “Only an idiot would tell you to be less expressive.”

The pad of his thumb swirls over your clit; its movement synchronizes with his middle finger inside of you, targeting your weak spot. He presses down on that spongy patch of nerves, and your hips buck involuntarily, a hallmark of your body begging for you while your words fail.

“You were right, though.” 

You summon all your concentration. “I’m always right,” you counter. Seokmin pulls his mouth away from the underside of your jaw just to look at you pointedly. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

He picks up the pace of his ministrations, pulling no punches. You’re teetering on the ledge with no real ability to lift your own neck; your head crashes back against the pillow as you wail, clenching and gushing around his fingers.

“I do know how sensitive you get,” he snickers before slipping his fingers from you and sweeping down to kiss you sweetly.

The ringing in your ears has barely subsided, but you’ve decided not to take anymore of his teasing laying down. Slipping your fingers from his hair, you move your hands to his shoulders; and with whatever muscle control you still maintain, you flip him off of you, onto his back.

“How long —” 

You climb over his lap and straddle him, placing your palms flat against his chest. It’s as much a show of dominance as it is a carefully disguised trick for balance. 

“— have you been waiting to say that?”

Caught red handed, Seokmin shoots you that trademark, heart-shaped smile. His cheeks were already flushed from the effort he just expended on you; that perfect pink only deepens when he blushes and laughs, “What, you think I can’t come up with killer lines in the heat of the moment?”

You scratch your nails gently down the lines of his abdominal muscles. “Nope,” you purr.

Sitting up on his elbows, Seokmin tilts his head to the side and narrows his dark eyes at you. You’re nowhere near used to seeing him look at you like this, like you’re something to be devoured. The feeling of being wanted so badly makes your stomach flip.

“Give me some credit, won’t you?” He asks, voice low. “You’re a knockout; you’re naked in front of me for the first time; and it’s a miracle I can talk at all when I feel this concussed.”

When you lean in, he licks his lips expectantly. You’re close enough to kiss him, of course, but you stop a few millimeters shy of your mark and watch him fight the urge to pout. His eyes search yours, almost pleadingly.

“Is that why you’re still not naked?”

Seokmin’s next move is to reach for the black briefs he’s still got on, but you stop him, encircling each of his wrists with your hands.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you tut with a patronizing shake of your head. “You’re fired. I’m in control now.”

If the little sigh he lets out is any indication, he is very much on board with your self-promotion.

He takes your cue and reels himself in, allowing you to move further down his body, your fingertips hooking under his elastic waistband and tugging as you go. When his length finally springs free, you duck your head to take him into your mouth, beyond eager to feel his weight on your tongue.

“Oh, my god,” he groans, eyelids fluttering, while you swirl your tongue around his head. “Feels s-so —”

The rest of his sentence gets stuck in his throat; you take what you can of him down your own throat, working whatever remains with your hand. 

Seokmin wants so badly to watch, you know he does, but he’s sensitive, too. His head tips back, eyes closed and mouth hanging open.

It’s messy, the spit dribbling down your chin and the sound brought forth by the suction of your mouth around him. The obscenity of it all spurs you on. Nothing inspires you quite like Seokmin’s breathy whines and low moans, though. Above all else, it’s his reaction to you that slicks the inside of your thighs.

You’d give him the ending he deserves, right down the back of your throat, but you feel his fingertips graze your shoulder, beckoning you to look up at him.

Voice rough, he pleads, “Come here.”

With his steadying hands on you, you move back into your original position with your bent knees on either side of him. You immediately spot the indent his teeth have left on his lower lip, which is now slightly swollen. Delicately, you brush your thumb over the mark. “Oh, you’re a goner.”

Seokmin looks at you pointedly. Though you tease, you’re even worse off: drunk on the taste of him, as much as the sight of him underneath you, wanting you just as badly.

“Alright, alright,” you concede. “I am, too.” 

The hand you use to wave dismissively at him then reaches down between your thighs, fingers wrapping around his cock and lining it up with your entrance.

“But I’m taking you down with me.”

And you do.

So thoroughly that you barely recall him staggering off to the bathroom when all is said and done, the wash cloth he returns with to clean you up, or the way you slump into his waiting arms before promptly falling asleep.

You sleep so soundly, in fact, that you don’t stir when the sun blares through the open curtains. Likewise, when Seokmin carefully maneuvers himself out of the tangle of your limbs and places your head on a real pillow instead, you’re none the wiser.

What finally gets to you is the clatter of the expensive, hotel-issued shampoo clattering against the floor of the shower, echoing off the tile like a sonic boom. You sit bolt upright in bed, staring bleary-eyed in the direction of the bathroom. 

As if on cue, Seokmin pokes his head out of the doorway to see if you managed to sleep through the noise. Damp hair splays over his forehead, hanging just as loosely as his lazily-knotted bathrobe. If you weren’t still too sleepy to function, you’d love nothing more than to grab him by that tie and drag him back to bed.

“Shit. I’m sorry, Bambi,” he coos, though his mouth is full of both toothpaste and a toothbrush in a distinctly greener shade of blue than usual.

You merely point at his mouth with a half-powered look of distress, otherwise unable to put your suspicion into words. He doesn’t get it; he glances down at his chest, looking for what he assumes is a stray glob of paste.

When you finally do speak, it’s a prayer: “Please tell me that’s not mine.”

Seokmin blinks at you, then down his nose at the toothbrush he’s using. He cocks his head to the side, opens his mouth to assure you it isn’t, and finally, when the realization makes his eyes widen, he groans.

You wail, “Noooooo!”

Memories of your last trip together clash before your mind — specifically, attempting to navigate a drug store in a foreign language while you shopped for the replacement toothbrush Seokmin is currently holding.

Ears bright red with embarrassment, he ducks back into the bathroom. Immediately, you hear a rush of water from the tap, which nearly drowns out his feeble cry of “I’m sorry!”

“I know it’s an honest mistake, but how do you make it twice?” 

You collapse back onto the pillows and bury your face in your palms; and you stay that way, even when you hear him padding softly over to you. The mattress shifts under his weight as he makes his way, one knee at a time, until you feel him looming over you. His hands reach out and gently pull yours from your face.

Before you can get any ideas, Seokmin flattens himself on top of you; a weighted blanket, smelling like vanilla and spearmint. He folds his arms across your chest and props his chin up on the top of his right wrist, bright eyes sparkling as he peers up at you.

Suddenly, you find it very difficult to be annoyed with him. The worst part is that none of this is by design. He always just looks at you this way, not to get out of trouble but because you’re you.

Your hand reaches out of its own accord and brushes the remaining damp strands off his forehead. When your touch lingers, Seokmin leans into it, warming your palm with his cheek.

“Hey,” you say, after failing to come up with anything better.

He beams. “Hi.”

“Why are we awake at this hour?”

That smile of his evaporates slowly, giving way to a grimace you’ve seen before. “Seungcheol and Mingyu want to meet up at the ski lodge before the post-brunch crowd gets there,” he explains. “And I told my parents we’d get breakfast with them first, since yesterday was… well, mostly a disaster.”

“And it will conveniently provide you with time to think of a way out of snowboarding?” You chuckle quietly and pat his cheek.

Seokmin shakes his head firmly, then stretches his neck enough to kiss you.

“No,” he mumbles defiantly against your lips. “I never back down from a triple-dog dare.”

[heavyisthecrownif]

Intro

The Emperor is ill; the people of the capital whisper with varying degrees of concern or delight; he has completely fallen into the clutches of madness, as the most insidious tongues allege, the truth is, to their ignorance, considerably more urgent.

The Emperor, Airlar the Unifier, responsible for the greatest modifications to the constitution and State in the entire history of Ehyla, a living testimony to the existence of a civilization buried by the sands of time as well as oblivion, is irremediably, undeniably dying.

And so your life undergoes an absolute change overnight by nothing less than imperial decree. As the only one of your siblings of the right age, you are not only heading to a nest of conspiring vipers that you should never have dealt with, but every second, implicitly and explicitly, you are being judged and evaluated for a purpose that escapes your knowledge. Truth be told, at least it's not all bad; you have your very competent and loyal assistant at your side, and with your sister relatively close by, your experience shouldn't be so terrible...

Unless...

CW: This is a dark romance, and what this entails—things like possessiveness, stalking, manipulation, jealousy, and dependency will be seen in varying degrees in all routes. Sexism, transphobia, and homophobia will be briefly mentioned, as well as religious trauma, abuse of power, graphic violence, and optional explicit sexual scenes.

This list is subject to change as the game progresses.

HITC is only for an audience of +18.

•Customize your Crown; personality, appearance, gender, pronouns, independent of the chosen gender, magic type, and where the foreign half of your bloodline comes from.

•Build friendships, romances and/or enmities with 5 diverse characters, all of selectable gender (with and ace options).

•Find out why you are in demand in the capital and why you should study at the "Saint Elizsea Academy for Illustrious Young People" side by side with the cream of the crop of Ehylian society.

•Have a familiar! With options, so far, to choose from a wolf, a ferret, a raven, a snake, a crocodile, a deer and several types of dogs and cats.

Choose wisely! They all possess consciousness and at least a degree of magical attributes and some are...sassy.

•Shape the narrative with your decisions, every choice matters.

Important note: Due to reasons directly related to my inexperience coding, the MC can only be AFAB for the moment, with options to be cis, transmac, or enby.

•The Crown: You! As the fourth child of a marriage between a former general promoted to king for his illustrious strategies against the rebellion against the fae and a foreign scholar, your outlook is, to say the least, peculiar. Not only are you the product of a marriage of love, with the confidence of genuinely and willingly counting on the support of your brothers and older sister again, but also, well known for their almost barbaric customs, your parents have the audacity to allow you to decide what to do with your own life, from coveting and collecting knowledge to learning the art of war or venturing into any of the five arts, you have a place nothing less than privileged, so far from being the firstborn and with an older brother more than capable and willing to take charge of the kingdom, your future is, to say the least, very promising, until an edict of the dying, and extremely capricious emperor demands that every young people of marriageable age who is not taking charge of the administration of their jurisdiction at the time, must go to be evaluated at The Academy in the heart of the capital, with your first brother discarded, your older sister engaged, your second brother in the borderlands doing pilgrim work and your younger siblings too young to attend that leaves you alone as an option.

•The one who left (RO): Asterion/Astrya Dellamort. With silky midnight waves and expressive eyes that evoke the memory of the moon in their hue and roundness, they possesses an astonishingly delicate and pretty face, for someone who has been classified with little variation as a rigid, cold, arrogant, difficult and even bitchy person throughout their young life, Azzy, the nickname with which you baptized their and, unbeknownst to you no soul is allowed to use without going through severe verbal reprimands and/or public humiliation, was, at least until the age of 13, your best friend, with their mother being a strong ally, and more importantly, a supporter of your parents, it is no wonder that you two were brought together to be playmates since before you could remember.

Truth be told, Azzy was never easy, despite knowing you all their life there is something about you that bothers they deeply, they can trust your reasons, your transparency, but they can't understand your affection, because as the only son of Queen, Azzy they was much more exposed and at a much younger age to the cruel machinations of politics, so, with an almost supernatural ease they developed a capacity with words as bewitching as it is deadly, cruel if you will even, not that you have witnessed it first hand, of course, for many complaints, frowns and playful reluctance, you probably have the rare honor of knowing and living with the kindest version of Azzy, which in turn gives you the merit of being the person who knows they the most and the least, being a witness to they gentleness but mostly ignorant of their cruelty.

It's not until a tragic occasion, when your relationship breaks down, abruptly, suddenly, with the roughness of a wound that hasn't healed properly even five years later, that you wonder why Azzy decided to cut off all contact with you, but, unbeknownst to you, they despises and belittles anyone who tries to gain their favor by putting you down.

Tropes: Friends (with the possibility of a friendly rivalry...or not) to "rivals" to lovers/ Attachment issues, let's say Azzy is fine keeping their distance, (they're not) but if you come back into their life there's no turning back/ The ice king/queen's weak point/ Misunderstandings/ Forced proximity.

The one who takes care of you (RO): Kaihlan/Karonthe Agrapolli. Strictly speaking, Kai is your bodyguard, but over the years they has taken on far more than their fair share of responsibilities, and no matter how much you and your parents have asked them not to overexert themselves, the satisfied gleam in their amber eyes whenever they do something to make your life easier, along with their unbeatable stubbornness, means that you can count on Kai as your shadow more often than not.

As the eldest of your father's right-hand twins, Kai has been two things to you: a constant and a teacher. With their undeniable combat skills and their minds as quick as their feet, it is not only an honor to have them defend you, but also teach you.

Kai is loyal to you to the core; in order to ensure your happiness and safety, they is capable of acts that go against morality and even the laws of man and god.

Kai is probably the tallest person you've ever met, so tall that when you were younger and cheeky you asked them if they weren't part giant, they laughed but otherwise didn't answer the question. With sun-kissed skin glowing a shade reminiscent of honey almost as much as their eyes Kai is not only tall, they're broad and rough, with large scarred hands that extend all the way to they forearms you'd expect they to behave like a bull in a china shop, and they do in a way, but when you're around them, they seem incapable of anything but the most dedicated and delicate care. Both M!Kai and F!Kai have hair brushing their shoulders in a fluffy reddish-brown mess, with the back of their necks longer than the front and scattered freckles from spending so much time in the sun.

Tropes: Puppy love/They look like they could kill you and potentially will if you're not MC, but they're actually a cinnamon roll, long-term crush, himbo/bimbo, surface only, gentle giant, wolf in sheep's clothing.

The one who admires you (RO):???. You're not sure how, but you've somehow managed to get a hold of a stalker.

What you know so far is little and downright mediocre, they either have enough power or influence to bribe someone into getting their letters to you within the castle grounds, or more unlikely, they're stealthy enough to slip past Kai's ever-watchful eye, so all things considered, there's most likely magic involved, which brings you back to the first point, or they're rich enough to hire or own a wizard themselves or they're powerful enough to conjure their presence into your chambers without raising suspicion.

Tropes: Loved you from the moment they saw you/secret admirer/strangers to ???/would burn the world down for you.

The one who does not show up(RO): Secret route! You'll know when you meet them...maybe.

Tropes: Love-hate/they despise loving you/they want to live in your heart... literally/the love that was never meant to be/they are doomed. to love you? to exist without you? not even they know.

The one you impressed (RO): Elysse/Eylarion Kurayoi.

If there is one word to define Ely it is scandal, with their elastic golden curls bouncing with the sound of their thunderous laughter, they would not readily admit how much they love to impress, but the mischievous sparkle in their mahogany eyes says otherwise.

You know little to nothing about them other than the rumors that proclaim that they have no standards regarding who they share a bed with, but for some reason you intrigue them, if you were to ask them they would say little more than that they are curious that you are so different and little else.

They happens to be your roommate at the academy and as someone who for better or worse seems to be extremely transparent and understands how everyone who has an important name in the capital acts, it might be convenient to have them around, but be careful not to leave them too close to the warmth of your home because they might not want to leave.

Tropes: Master/Mistress of seduction until they flirt with someone they really like/ Bad reputation or justified prejudices?/ the capital's rebellious child/ The most beautiful at the ball/ The beauty and the beast

Demo: TBA

Thanks for reading!

[notherpuppet]

Hi! Question here that pop in my brain and got me curious about QPR since that is the main relationship of My Deer Nanny.

Ok, im in a hetero relationship and reading more and more radioapple has really opened my eyes to those on the Ace spectrum and the types of relationships presented jn stories, thank you Alastor for that.

Ok. So the relationship is not sexual in nature, more emotional intimacy right? So, how does falling in love feel for those in a QPR? So many of us tie falling jn love with the sexual aspect as well, especially in stories, I'm interested in learning about the other side of it. With Al and Luci, are we going to see them fall in love? (The more than anything panel with Al's reaction had me wondering)

Don't worry, I'm not gonna ask a out sex, I really enjoy the relationship in the story as QPR, and I'm super into smut, it's my go to, but I discovered QPR though this story and love it just as much as some of the other stuff I read.

Not...really sure if my question is clear...

How does emotional intimacy grow in a QPR when only 1 partner is Ace or heck, even both? How does it differ from "typical" relationships where the physical and emotional intimacy develop, if they even differ at all?

Hiiii, so imma start off with leaving this link here: QPR info

And I wanna say everyone has their own individual experiences. Language is a lovely tool, but it has its limitations. Especially with matters of the heart and mind.

In My Deer Nanny, my intention is to depict a relationship where Alastor and Lucifer grow to love each other, but it’s not “falling in love”.

So much of the fun of making this AU is using characters I adore to spotlight different depictions of love. I experience love like-every day! It’s great! (Family, friends, music, art, hobbies, and mostly my love for radioapple lol).

In the most recent post, I wanted to show Alastor’s sincere love for music intersecting with his surprise over Lucifer’s musical talent. For anyone who is also a music lover, I’m sure you have experienced the enchantment of live music and the chills you can get from an exceptional vocalist. 🤩🤤🎶

My Deer Nanny is a radioapple AU, so it is focused on the love and bond developing between Lucifer and Alastor. It’s not romantic love, but maybe a way to describe my approach could be “platonic love romanticized”??? Hmmm

IDK IF THAT MAKES SENSE BUT THANK YOU FOR YOUR QUESTION 🥰

[howwnowbrowncoww]

Been working on this for a few months now but I finally got it done! I've seen a few Yakuza/Like a Dragon x Animal Crossing crossovers and really wanted to do one too, and I'm super happy with how it turned out:) Seeing all of the Dondoko Island comparisons to AC right before I finished this was HILARIOUS though😂 Gonna put some loose notes under a read more if you want behind the scenes stuff. Let me know who your favorite design is if you want:)

Adding what animal everyone is (just in case it's hard to tell and because I want to talk about why I made some of them certain animals)

Ichiban: Lion (he has a very loud personality and very loud hair)

Adachi: Bear (I will restrain myself from making any bear jokes but he does look like he'd give great bear hugs)

Nanba: Koala (okay, weird reason, but my sister used to have this webkinz koala named Snoozer (he was the mayor of our imaginary town but that's not important) and he was obvs always sleepy, and Nanba is the KING of convenient naps in battle)

Saeko: Deer (i really just thought she'd love to paint her hooves)

Joon-gi: Wolf (typical lone-wolf-type with white hair who is dragged into the found family). He also gets the bar bg because he never got his own karaoke song and he deserves to have fun:)

Zhao: Tiger (i specifically remember him having a tiger in his restaurant that kicked my ass, and I also wanted to base him off of one of his martial arts moves. Since Snake and Mantis aren't AC types, and Crane was already being used, I thought Tiger was fitting. Also his shirt was a pain to make!! I couldn't replicate the actual pattern, so I went with ginkgo leaves for something that was still gold and sort of ornate)

Eri: Crane (inspired by her move (called 'Flying Crane' or something like that; i'm too lazy to boot up the game and check lol) Plus I think birds would really enjoy the crackers her company sells:)

[h0wll]

Posting my current AO3 fanfic links here, please enjoy!! Crossovers will be colour-coded in purple 😊💛💜

Harry Potter/Marauders:

ziggy played guitar

Short, no-magic modern AU, domestic Wolfstar fluff one-shot with trans(ftm) Remus and ace Sirius (ft. their cat Magnus). 1,355 words.

la lune and i

No-Voldemort Hogwarts AU Moonwater potions partners slow burn with trans!Regulus Black. Ft. Rosekiller, Xenodora, and Dorlene. 6,700 words.

less than three, you love me (typing out my fantasy)

Texting/social media no-magic modern AU Marauders Era. Genderfluid!Sirius and Remus date each other anonymously and don’t realise. Ft. Wolfstar, Jegulus, Marylily, Rosekiller, Dorlene, and Xenodora. 1,664 words.

JOYRIDE

Modern no-magic AU one-shot Rosekiller get freaky in a car (HEAVY SMUT) inspired by Kesha’s new song. Ft. Wolfstar and Jegulus. 2,501 words.

Knee deep in the passenger seat (and you’re eating me out)

Modern no-magic AU one-shot Blackrosekiller get freaky in a car (AGAIN) HEAVY SMUT, inspired by Chappell Roan’s Casual. 3,815 words.

the near and the deer ones

Short, Christmas fluffshot with the Potters, Sirius, and Regulus. Pre-Jegulus but they’re happening! 2,391 words.

Sleepily, Venus sinks and hollows

Modern PJO-AU Marauders. Centred around Wolfstar and Jegulus. Everyone are demigods and go to CHB, but Kronos is rising. Ft. Rosekiller, Dorlene, Marylily, and Xenodora. 6,751 words.

Percy Jackson:

XOXO (Kisses Hugs)

Discontinued(?) PJO kinktober with trans!Percy/Ganymede. Only chapter up is pegging, though I may continue it this October?? Possibly?? 3,681 words.

My Hero Academia/Boku No Hero Academia:

Gold-skinned eager baby

MHA/BNHA AU where Touya Todoroki survived and got custody of Shoto and raised him. Ft. Autistic Shoto and Seroki. 2,797 words.

Kintsukuroi

MHA AU where Izuku Midoriya dies and becomes a ghost due to a quirk, and does typical ghost!Izu things like haunt Bakugo. Warning, this fanfiction has very dark themes! 5,580 words.

[capn-atlas]

New intro (because I can't settle on one apparently) please read this before you follow

BEFORE THE INTRO: please do not ask me for donations. I am a minor and cannot donate, and I will not put your posts on my blog.

HELLOHELLOHELLOOOOO

Tis I, the great & wonderful cap'n Atlas! y'all can call us collectively Captain, Cap'n, Captain Atlas, Atlas, Cheshire, or Anna. We use any & all pronouns thou can think of, but not she/her too much, as we are a PIRATICAL SEA CAPTAIN WHO DOES IS NOT FEMME. (not like piratical sea captains cant be femme I'm just- oh my god where am I going with this what the hek)

ANYWAY

We are an endogenic system (I call us The Crew or Atlas System), I am the host, Anna, but I usually use we/us pronouns even when i'm the only one fronting. we have four or five existing alters, and when they get around to actually writing their intros like they're supposed to then i'll link them here, but their names are Anna (me, the host) Lennon, Maddelleine, Eva, Riko, Enzo and Starwork

Enzo’s intro (by Enzo) Enzo's intro 2 (by Anna)

Riko's intro (by Riko)

Eva's intro (by eva) Eva's intro 2 (by Anna)

Lennon's blog/intro (his own blog that has his intro as the pinned post) (by Lennon)

Maddeleine's intro (by Anna)

here is my pronouns.cc for more info on the mateys

I am aro/ace, and our system will, though some members are not aro/ace, will most likely never be in a romantic or sexual relationship with anyone outside of the system. I'm agender and genderfluid. our genderfluidity is somewhat due to our plurality.

we are canadian. if thou dares to insult our maple syrup, we shalt ride at dawn, armed with nothing but moose, some "eh?"s, timbits, and dreams.

we are a therian, fictionkin (maybe), objectkin, and otherkin

theriotypes:

wolf

cat

rat

moth

fox

meerkat

prairie dog

border collie

t-rex

fictionkin:

the Cheshire cat (Alice in wonderland) (questioning)

mabel (gravity falls)

objectkin:

doll

puppet

otherkin

alien

some sorta deer cryptid

ghost/angel pirate?? idk but I am definitely ghost/angel kin and I think my kintype was a pirate in their lifetime or smth idk

our current obsessions are:

only murders in the building

wednesday (the show) (and more specifically, wenclair)

wicked (the musical and book) (and more specifically, gelphie)

byf: I’m a minor!!!!! So don’t be weird. I’m serious. (I’m also aroace so double don’t be weird). No funny business. I swear very very occasionally but even so, if that makes you uncomfortable maybe don't follow. as I said it is on an extremely rare occasion I swear but you've been warned I suppose

dni: anti-therians/furries, TERFS, queerphobes (e.g. homophobes, transphobes, biphobes), p3dos, z0os, radqueers, any explicitly NSFW blogs, anti-endos, and just general assholes

our asks are open for therian line art requests!! (okay so I don't actually know what it's called but like the photo of a theriotype with white lining over it). to request, please state the 'type, what symbol (if any) you'd like me to put on the forehead, and if possible include a photo of the 'type so I don't get mixed up.

slowly turning into a hoard of userboxes: (all by @kthecritter they're awesome go check them out)

[yuurei20]

Idia Info Compilation Part 7: Idia and Cats

Idia likes cats extremely, up to and including Lucius. This may even include cat beast-people, as he says “Lions are supposedly part of the Felidae family, but Leona’s about as docile as an angry lawnmower."

He also says "Oooh, I wanna widdle kitty cat to hug and kiss…”

He tries to pet Grim, mistaking him for a cat. Grim, having been watching a horror movie with the player and Ace, subsequently tells everyone that there is an evil spirit on campus, leading Ortho to confiscate Idia’s lab wear.

Idia’s love of furry creatures does not end with cats. In the Harveston event he is thrilled to find a raccoon, rabbit, squirrels and a deer in what he describes as a “paradise”, until they discover a packet of dried fruit in his pocket and proceed to chase him down the mountain.

He also says that while "dogs themselves are okay", he "can't deal with dog people.” Despite his impatience with video game interruptions, Idia says that tests and games are alike: "You get that same dopamine rush when you score high," implying he may perform well in classes.

When asked if he had a favorite stuffed animal as a child Idia responds that, no—he has always preferred his own handmade robots since he was young. He enjoys cup ramen, gifting a box of special, limited-time cup ramen to Deuce for his birthday.

Idia’s favorite food sometimes gets translated as “junk food”, but he specifies that he prefers a sub-genre of snacks that doesn’t seem to exist in English: “chi-iku-type dagashi”, which this YouTuber has translated as “educational confectionary”.

It is where you take different gelatins and things and mix them to create candy versions of things like sushi, hamburgers, etc., in miniature form. I am sure they exist in other places, too! NA translates them as "DIY candy kits", which is also accurate.

Idia is also invested in movies, designing his dorm’s section of the Halloween Event at Night Raven College to be an homage to a B movie called “Creepy Hollow”, that no one knows but he defends passionately to anyone who will listen.

Concerning his online games, we learn in the Phantom Bride event that Idia uses the handle “Gloomurai” online. His closest online friend is a person who uses the handle “Muscle Red”.

Idia turns down an opportunity to spend time with Ortho in favor of Muscle Red. While hinted at elsewhere in the game, it is also in the Phantom Bride event that we learn that Muscle Red is Lilia, but neither student is aware of the other’s true identity.

Idia seems to keep private rankings of different students, which include but are not limited to his “Night Raven College’s most cheerful character” tier list (Kalim ranks first) and the “Turbo Sus Vice Housewardens to Be Avoided at All Costs Rankings” (topped by Rook and Trey).

Idia describes Cater as having a sunny disposition that “is relentlessly smothering”, while Cater advises Malleus against going to Idia for technological help as “he’d probably run if you tried to talk to him”.

Silver says Idia always gets “so flustered” around him (he wakes up to Idia watching him as he slept). Idia describes Silver as “seriously handsome” and “like a prince”. During Phantom Bride Idia describes Vil as “a legit pro”, saying “Leona and Malleus’ faces are mega-striking”.

He describes Riddle as “the traditional prince who’s straight-laced due to his royal upbringing, but who occasionally shows some awkward tenderness”, Epel as “the dainty second prince players just want to protect. His rare, intense expressions are dark yet compelling!”

And he describes Rook as “the prince from a neighboring kingdom who’s revealed to have been secretly protecting the MC, immediately granting him best boy status!”. Otherwise, however, he describes the school’s house wardens as “difficult”.

[emiplayzmc]

Alright, fellas, what should we call this? Addison Crossing? Cyber Crossing?

Either way, my Deltarune Addisons as Animal Crossing villagers!! Also special announcement at the end of the images :DD

(We're gonna ignore that personality types are gendered in proper AC alright guys shh it's fine)

Bailey & Tourmaline. A peppy squirrel and a smug ostrich, both with the fashion hobby!

AKA, Banner and Target!

Cassidy & Samuel. A jock and a sisterly - or a brotherly, in this case! - both deer! Cassidy has either the music or fitness hobby, and Samuel has the education hobby.

AKA, Broadcast and Sample!

And now... the one you've all been dying to see...

Sawyer G. Sawyer!! A smug / jock (can't decide which) rabbit villager! Probably either education or play as hobbies!

Also known as... Spamton G. Spamton!

RAHHHH I had so much fun making these!! Addispam and Big Shot Spamton came out a little janky but it's FINEEE... Kinda like to think that maybe Addispam / Addi-Sawyer was an apprentice to Pete in the AC universe!

And now that that's done...

✨️✨️ I'm opening requests to draw people's Addisons as Animal Crossing villagers!! ✨️✨️

You can send in OC's, you can send in your own versions of the main Addis that we see in game, Addisonas, the sky's the limit! I had a lot of fun drawing AC villagers!

My only requests / rules are:

A) that I'm able to get a description / image of your Addison and their personality, clothing they'd wear, profession, music taste, etc. If you want to, send in a request for what animal you'd want me to draw them as, as well! (For now I'm only doing animals that can be easily put onto an existing character model in AC, like a fox on a Wolf model or a buffalo on a Bull model)

B) That you only send in one or two characters at a time, please! Still new to doing requests, lol

C) Send in requests via the askbox! ^-^

That's all! Anyways, hope y'all enjoy the Addison Crossing characters!!

[samantha-and-her-chaotic-desires]

My perspective on Alastor from Hazbin Hotel, and my ideas on how else to present him: writing AND art.

Hi guys! As y'all know, Alastor is my favorite Hazbin Hotel character. He's one of the main focuses in most of my fanfics, series, side blogs, art, etc. etc.. However, there's a certain way I write/draw/see him. This is gonna be rambly so beware!! <3 (side note: I still don't support Vivziepop's actions xx)

Under the cut I'll be giving personal portrayal, critiques, gripes, issues, compliments, and even rewrites/"redesigns". I do NOT belong Hazbin Hotel nor Alastor (created by Vivziepop). This is an interpretation of what has been produced, how I look at it, and what I can do to rewrite. I am NOT fixing anything, so please do not say that I am.

DISCLAIMER: DO NOT COME AND HARASS ME. This is MY personal interpretation of him. I have issues with Hazbin Hotel despite still being a fan, and I will address them. Any future anon hate will result in me immediately turning off anon, or the inbox itself: that is a PRIVILEGE, NOT A RIGHT.

also this might be messy and all over the place, but bare with me :) The writing portion is in more so personal portrayal rather than the redesign, so heads up!

Without further adieu, let's get into it! :D

1) Personal Portrayal:

For the longest time, I've pictured Al as the "laughing on the outside, crying on the inside" type guy. This was in the glory days of the pilot. I remember the winters where I would read fanfic and draw fanart of any potential Alastor angst. Along with this, I would slowly have him go through character development. The Hazbin pilot was a complete eye opener for creativity, and a break for me. Of course the deer overlord caught my eye, and he led me to where I am today.

To me, he is complex: not revealing motives at first, but slowly guiding us into false hope, then a betrayal. Possible redemption, but he wouldn't be a goody two-shoes after it. He'd still be a dick, he'd still make mistakes, but he's slightly softer than before. Considerate might be a stretch, but it's a start that he is working on...albeit begrudgingly. He grows to love the Hazbins, then after a while supports the hotel.

Him and Husk are more rivals/buddies than what the show portrays. Yes they bicker, but it's lighthearted instead of harmful. There would be moments where hurtful things were said/done, but after reconciliation and consequences of actions, things would get better. Yet with Husk, Alastor is soft: platonically, as I still interpret him as aro-ace. Even during shitty days//arguments, there would still be a time where they could have a drink together, play poker/whatever card game, laugh their asses off, and enjoy the company.

Nifty and Alastor would be a father/daughter duo. He took her under his wing after a mishap, and she's been loyal to him since. He cares for her and is the only one out of two he allows himself to be soft with at first. (The second would be Husk). She cleans up after Alastor's mess when need be, and it never goes unappreciated. He helps her clean some days, and it could serve as a bonding moment. Jazz music in the background, cracking jokes, and things just feeling homey.

Alastor would break the smile when comfortable: it takes a while as someone who would mask emotions, but when he occurs, he feels lighter afterwards. Crying is another story: that'll take a longer time for him to overcome. He bottles it up until it unleashes at the wrong person. After some talking it out with Charlie, he finally lets go. This all happens very slowly, not in the same episode.

He's still a cannibalistic serial killer: he will have to own up to his sins. There's no glorifying them or babying him, he's a grown ass man that needs to own up for his actions. When he does, he probably won't be redeemed for a long while. That's okay though: he needs the development.

Also haha my sona is adopted by Alastor haha /hj (but seriously, he has become one of the closest comfort characters mainly due to my own portrayal. It's fiction after all! Everyone interprets things differently!) Now, moving onto the next topic.

2) The Pilot's Alastor:

My opinion: the pilot is better than the show. Sure I still like the show, but the pilot has more charm to it, y'know?

Ed Bosco's voice for Alastor in the pilot was perfect. It was devious, menacing, dare I even say intimidating. It accommodated the radio effect well, cutting in and out. It had a drawl, yet somewhat of a light tone in certain words. He felt like a radio host that happened to be a serial killer. The laugh. The smugness. It was just amazing. We didn't know anything about him, aside from the story Vaggie told. His motive was unknown (and still kinda is). But it showed us, not told us. It was solid and quite frankly, well done.

Black Gryph0n's singing voice for him was phenomenal! It was and still is one of my favorite voices of all time. It screamed 1920s and 30s. It was witty, smooth, yet eccentric and almost booming. Insane, Inside of Every Demon Is A Lost Cause, Heaven 2 Hell, Thank You and Goodnight: those were songs I had looped for months, even years. Inside Of Every Demon Is A Lost Cause was my alarm for a whole year, then Insane.

Design wise: too red. I still love him, but he's too red. The darker shades of brown/maroon on his lapel and tie were helpful though. Somewhat. Still, he blends into the setting of Hell itself: it's not as intense in the pilot, if I can remember correctly: it was still too much, but it wasn't an eye sore to me. Continuing, I never understood the hair (and it was a struggle to draw the first time around) but I liked the ears. It was overall a cute factor to a menacing character.

We knew from streams and old pieces of work that Alastor was a momma's boy, he's mixe Creole, he's aro-ace (while asexual in canon, I still see him as aro-ace), he has a dislike for dogs, the list goes on. In the pilot days, those were the only notes of info we had, and the fans made our own spin out of it. It was a fun time, reading fanfics during the winter while it snowed. I had popcorn and my iPad out to draw, and I was simply just...enjoying the content.

Moving onto the actual, set-in-stone Alastor.

3) The Show's Alastor:

Amir Talai's voice, while pleasant, is just...lacking something. I commend his work and still think he's awesome at what he does, don't get me wrong! But the way Alastor is presented just lacks what Pilot!Alastor had. While Pilot!Alastor was mysterious and menacing voice-wise, Show!Alastor feels more mischievous and playful, more than anything. An anti-hero instead of an opposing force, per say. It's not that I have a problem with it: it just doesn't fit with what his character is supposed to be. A deeper voice does him justice.

The design, although barely changing, is still too red. Nothing against it, but I have a slight gripe with the white border of the lapel. It feels out of place, plus a frustration to remember when I'm drawing. Same thing with the monocle, but the monocle is bearable.

Alastor's writing in the show is.....I dunno how to put it. Don't get me wrong: I loved when he has screentime! It would've been completely fine...but he's supposed to be mysterious. He was too open, too pushy, and it felt like it was shoved in our faces constantly. "hAhA lOoK aT tHiS sCaWy OvErLoRd OvEr HeRe DoN't YoU sEe HiM hAhA lOoK sEe?" to put it as nicely as possible. It just feels like his potential was butchered.

Him having a feud with Vox? Still clever! Video killed the radio star after all! While Stayed Gone is one of, if not my favorite Hazbin song, it could've had more potential. More banter, more singing than "rapping"/talking (I'm not quite sure if him and Alastor's talking was rapping, but eh, who knows).

His and Lucifer's beef is entertaining but unnecessary. What was the reason? Just for shits and giggles? It might have been, but it could've been done better in a filler episode. The way the banter was and how Lucifer didn't kick Alastor's ass, despite being the literal King of Hell AND the Devil, he didn't do shit. Lucifer could've smited him in an instant, yet he didn't. Because he's a soft uwu baby. /s Though we're talking about Alastor, not Luci.

Adding on, when the scene of him and Husk came to light, I was left conflicted. We're supposed to fear him, yeah? Well, why have him around 24/7? He should be lurking in the shadows, barely participating in hotel activities yet he is always in the background just watching. This would add the mystery factor. It would make the viewers go "wait, where's Alastor?" and have them guessing. With him being shoved in our faces, it feels useless. (deadass that scene where he tortured Husk made me feel a lot of hate towards Alastor. Genuinely: I was not happy. I don't fuck with that scene).

His full demon form in Episode Five is not great. I'm sorry. I preferred the form to be similar to Episode Two, where Vox pissed him off so much. With his [Alastor's] demon form, it should be slowly morphing. Also...maybe no voodoo? Because the show hasn't done actual research into voodoo. I have a book from New Orleans about the subject, and it's so fascinating.

Now: time for more of my creative side (kinda).

4) Redesigns/Overall Ideas:

I'm probably going to get some hate here, but eh. It don't bother me, I'm just a gal providing my own thoughts. ANYWAYS with my redesign/rewrite, it's gonna be a mixture of notes and paragraphs, so please bare with me.

I. Episode Two/Stayed Gone:

The song (as much as it's one of my favs) could've been wiped out completely and we could've had shenanigans with the two! Bickering, bantering, even fighting in the streets: causing Alastor to lose his cool and transform into the demon form he had at the end of the song. Perhaps Sir Pentious was a secret aid all along, tag teaming with Vox to try and take down Alastor. Charlie intervenes, Alastor is humiliated with himself, and there could be a bonding moment between them. Scolding and glaring from Vaggie, but bonding nonetheless.

I don't have many critiques for Episode Two, so let's slide into the next one.

II. Episode Five: Dad Beat Dad:

Yikes....okay. This episode isn't my favorite, but it's somewhat still enjoyable. The Lucifer/Alastor thing though? Entertaining but useless. Also still annoyed Lucifer didn't smite Alastor's ballsy ass. The gall you have to have: then again, it was to get a rise out of Lucifer. HOWEVER: Lucifer is the literal Devil, and we could've seen his potential.

Subtle glares and comments could've been arranged in Episode Five, yet Alastor has to be courteous. It's the King of Hell, the literal Devil. While it's okay for a character to be ballsy, there has to be limits...unless the aim is for the overly smug character to get their shit rocked: in that case hell yeah!

Then, something happens to the hotel: a greater threat, possibly because of Mimzy still, but they could work together to stop it. They still hate each other, but there's still enough respect to not kill the other.

III. Design Changes (Redesigns)

Give this man curly hair, first of all. While I'm not a POC myself, I have scene human!Alastor fanart, or even some canon design Alastor fanart where they made his hair curly! I would like to see more of it, so with my personal redesign, he has curly hair. I don't have my iPad on me (alive) right now, but once I sketch out the possible redesign, I'll share it!

There's also sometimes, with redesigns of Alastor, green added into the color palette. I personally love it, but with the red I don't want him to turn out Christmas-y lmao

I feel like black pants paired with white and black 1920s/30s tap shoes could cause the red to pop out. Maybe no red tuxedo coat.

^ BUT if there was a cold winter option, a red and maroon winter coat (ironically could be made out of deer pelt/skin) could do. The color scheme would be 2019 Alastor color palette.

His ears...OUGH. I would draw out the deer ears on the side of the head, and have the curly hair. Maybe hair tufts in the ears? Optional, but again, when everything is drawn out, it'll make more sense.

I do love the cunty red eyelids and the eyelashes. Keep those. Yesyesyes.

The antlers can stay black, but I'm just more worried about them blending with the hair or not. Design reasonings and such. Also maybe different shaping? Make them look bigger, more intimidating.

OH. MY GOD. Give him radio dial eyes 24/7 instead, but in that genuine look of fear/desperation/vulnerability, the normal eyes can pop out. That's just optional though.

5) Conclusion:

That's all I really have for Alastor. As much as I love him, he's flawed. This is a post that took me a few months to complete, I had it cooking up in here but life got in the way. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do not harass me. But I hope you enjoyed my rambles!! <3

[pomellon]

do you have any tips on drawing dragons and cats with variety? yours manage to look so distinct, even with markings and colors aside, and there's a constant rounded feeling of weight to bodies and limbs. sidenote that your soft coloring and shading makes literally all your art so comfy to look at for lack of a better way to explain it. always a treat to see posted!

Thank you so much anon <3

My biggest tip to getting characters looking distinct is to draw them next to, or on top of each other. Start with one character that is kind of average to have a baseline, and build other characters with different builds and shapes from there. Play a lot with shapes, try to make some character rounder while making others shaper or more streamlined. Here's some of my recent gen cats as an example:

How long/short and broad/narrow you make the muzzle of both dragons and cats also help to create a lot of distinction. Sapnap and Punz both have sharp brows ridges and round/broad muzzles:

And of course similar fur, eye shapes, ears and markings to distinguish them as brothers!

George on the other hand has a more sloping brow, rounder eyes, and a narrow almost heart shaped muzzle:

Even when working with the same fur type you can play around with different styles and options:

Dragon especially have whole bunch of design options since there is no right or wrong way to draw em! Most of my dragon anatomy is still based on cats and I often use lions for references, but you can honestly pick any animal that you like to draw and transfer that over to dragon designs and poses.

A lot of the time when making dragon characters I like to take some mixed traits from other animals. Basim in my AC saurian/dragon au is based of a python, both for the shape of his head which is pretty flat, and his pattern and colorations. Hytham is lightly based on a deer, giving him a taller brow ridge, large ears, and horns inspired by roe deer antlers, while his pattern and coloration is based on a ringed seal:

I hope that could be of some help anon, but don't be afraid to ask if you want some more tips :D

[rockermazy]

Alastor might have a thing about "cashing in on favors". When Alastor and Charlie make their deal, Alastor gives info in exchange for "a favor, at the time of his choosing". In the pilot, Alastor uses the word "favor" when summoning Niffty. In this universe, one might not even need to sell their soul to fuck themselves over - just a blank check. This time next year, Charlie could be scrubbing toilets (although I doubt that's what Alistor is going to ask for) I'm starting to wonder if Niffty is even chained at all, or if she's just fulfilling a "favor" with an undefined end-date. Whether intended or not, Charlie is definitely an "insurance baby", much like Octavia is to Stolas. Hell forbid something happens to Lucifer, Alistor could just ask Charlie for the throne.

Also, what is up with Alastor messing with Charlie's hair? I mean, this could be nothing more than a Disney villain putting on the rizz trope... theatre... visual cue type... thingy... I'm starting to wonder: if the throne is what Alastor actually wants and he finds out it isn't "transferable"... .... and yeeesss I know Alistor is ace, buuut.... .... is Alistar actually above doing a "paper marriage" or something similar? As long as this universe doesn't work like fairytales and consummation isn't required for a marriage to be binding, Alastor might only need the title of"King" to get whatever magical power this universe will bless him with just for having said title. Up until episode 8, it was safe to assume that Alistor only sought to have his soul chain broken and that was his purpose for getting close to Charlie. However, Alistor's singing lines in said episode make clear that freedom is only one of his goals. He also wants total control in this realm as soon as he gets said freedom.

And... Alastor has zero problems with being called "Papa". Also, I dunno how to say this, but like... Asexual =/= Aromantic. Alistor's warmer interactions with Mimzy and Rosie indicate that he is fully capable of affection - at least on a platonic level. Maybe he just wants to brush a 6-foot dolly's hair? Tuck her in at night... Make her wear pastel Victorian-inspired dresses around the palace that end just below her knee... The only thing I put past this deer-demon is getting his cock sucked.

[finn-theshark]

Okay so we got Radiostadic (And radiosilence) and we have Appleradio (and Radiorotten) now what about…

APPLERADIOSTADIC OR DEVILSDEERTV

also yes “Devils deer tv” is a pun :3

I LOVE Poly ships (I have ALOT of poly ships and most of my ships I merge with other ships lolz) so why not do this ?

(In my HCs Alastor is only ace unless it’s a Radiorotten or a radiosilence HC, I still need to research it bc the person who said he was aro -from what ppl have told me- was an ex animater and not viv)

Vox finally figured out how to get Alastor to ‘like’ him back , after a while Lucifer king of hell comes along and holyyy (literally) Vox definitely has a type (Old men with depression who could kill him) Alastor and Lucifer HATE eachother and that makes Lucifer hate Vox

We’ll skip over some stuff but Alastor and lucifer start being rivals but like in a gay way , Vox and lucifer get closer, and than finally they just decide to all be together (Lucifer doesn’t rlly care but he likes them both, Alastor likes them both but doesn’t know what the fuck poly is he just goes with it , and Vox is just in his own little ROKU flatscreen TV with a MLP Gacha Screensaver (/J) world)

[omgkalyppso]

Hello. (◡‿◡)ﾉ✿

You can call me Fate, Kal, Kaly, or Kalyppso.

I generally tag series for my own peace of mind, and characters upon request for people's blacklists. Sometimes I tag characters for comfort reasons.

You are always welcome to ask me to tag characters, concepts and things for your comfort.

I also make things. I have a general #i made this tag, and otherwise use the very common #my art and #my writing tags.

Here's my a/o3. If there's an E rated fic you're interested in reading but you're sex repulsed or w/e, I often have an "ace-friendly" version available upon request; some are just Here.

Some of my oc's which are currently occupying my brain include:

Baldur's Gate 3:

• Étoile (they/he) is my nonbinary high elf Paladin of Auril. Starts as Neutral Good Oath of Devotion Paladin and ends the bg3 adventure as a Neutral Evil Oathbreaker. #oc tag: étoile

• Borgakh (she/her) is a queer half-orc Hunter Ranger who has been an oc for (holy shit) something like nineteen years. She's seen a few different settings, and is often Lawful Good. #borgakh

• Meabh (they/she) is my nonbinary dark urge half-wood elf Assassin Rogue. They're new here. Chaotic Evil. #oc tag: meabh

Fire Emblem:

• Faedolyn (they/them) is my nonbinary fe3h My Unit / Byleth oc, occasionally explored as a student in the Golden Deer House. #faedolyn

• Zoran, sometimes Zora, (he/she) is Faedolyn's genderfluid brother, a student of the Ashen Wolves House. #oc tag: zora(n)

• Avery (he/they) is my nonbinary few3h My Unit / Shez oc. Pulled into Faedolyn's polyamorous relationships. #oc tag: avery

• Almanzor (he/him) is a cousin to Dimitri from fe3h, one of the Blaiddyd Bastards that friends and I concocted as children to Rufus Cassius Blaiddyd before the introduction of Rufus Thierry Blaiddyd. #oc tag: almanzor

• Eugénie (she/her) is my wife to Rodrigue, mother at least to Glenn and sometimes also Felix depending on the au. #oc tag: eugénie

Skyrim:

• Meldiara (she/her) is my Chaotic Neutral dunmer Rogue / Thief type Dragonborn. #oc tag: meldiara

My OC Masterlist

(ง •̀‿•́)ง Thank you for reading!

[lilailes]

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

Name: Mirae

Pronouns: She/Her but generally don't really care

Birthday (no year): October 11th

Where are you from? What is your time zone? US/EST

How long is your roleplay experience? I've been here since 14? So 10 years LOL

How were you introduced to roleplaying as a whole? (in job app vc: friend referred) A friend introduced me to Tumblr and RP!

How were you introduced to TOA? Well, it all started when I saw Nat's [REDACTED]-

Do you have any pets? Three dogs! (Australian Shepherd, French Bulldog aka Tater, hall of fame, and cat)

What is your favorite time of year and why? (Season, holiday, general period) Fall/Autumn! It's so much cooler, or at least for that one month here, but spring is okay too for the fashion and colors even if allergies are hellish

What is your IRL occupation? Every time I tell someone what it is I do, they don't know what it is, so for the sake of the internet, I am a corporate girlie/contractor

Some interests and things you like/enjoy? Sewing/fashion, reading, hanging with friends and family

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? Ace Attorney/visual novels, RPGs like Persona/SMT, Final Fantasy though it's more like watching these days

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: I've always been Water type biased, but I really enjoy Electric and Ghost as of recently. To that point, Raikou LOL but Flareon is my favorite eeveelution for the 2000s forums. They got that dog in 'em

Tell us some funfacts and trivia about yourself! (Optional bonus challenge: if you filled this out last year, try not to repeat what you said back then!) I don't think I answered this one last year but ? I was not born in the US despite living here for p much my entire life.

How did you get into Fire Emblem? TOA was pretty much how I got into it LOL

What Fire Emblem games have you played? SOV, 3H, Engage, and Heroes if that counts

First & Favorite Fire Emblem games: First: SOV and Favorite: FE6, though SOV is a close second

List your 5 favorite Fire Emblem characters across the series! Berkut, Petra, Raven.... Hm... Lilina and Griss

Who was the first character ever to make you go “ooh I like this one in particular” and why? Can be any context and reason! This explains it all.

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳 Griss and Raven

If you’ve played (or are familiar with) the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays? - Awakening: Not really familiar with the cast - Fates: Not really familiar with the cast - Three Houses: Theoretically, Claude I think - Engage: Theoretically,

Favorite Fire Emblem class? Archers and mages

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class and stats? Would you be playable? I would like to be an archer, but I don't think I'm athletic enough, maybe a mage. Though, I do greatly enjoy martial master and wolf knight so maybe one of those? You would put a little guy like me through war? I would be playable, but as an optional recruit

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? (Black Eagles, Blue Lions, Golden Deer, Church of Seiros, Those Who Slither in the Dark, unaffiliated civilian, other - for example Almyran) Black Eagles!

If you were an Officers Academy student, what would be your boons, banes and potential budding talent? Boons: gauntlets Budding talent: riding and bow Banes: axe, heavy armor

If you were an Engage character, which nation would you originate from? (Firene, the Kingdom of Abundance; Brodia, the Kingdom of Might; Elusia, the Kingdom of Knowledge; Solm, the Queendom of Freedom; Lythos, the holy land of the Divine Dragon; Gradlon, the desolate land of the Fell Dragon) Elusia has my whole heart so there

How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔(separate letters, to-ah, other?) T-O-A

Current TOA muses: Florina and Panette

Past TOA muses? Too many to list off, but the most memorable ones are: Petra, Lilina, Rinea, my Magvel stint, and maybe Elincia

Who was your first TOA muse? If you no longer have them, can you see yourself picking them up again? Gray, and no lol.

Do you believe you have a type of character you gravitate towards writing? (If you filled this out last year, has this changed in any way?) Brand: soft/sad girls, glass half full girls, and blondes (former)

Do you have characters or types of characters you don’t think you can handle writing, but wish you could? Antagonists and lackadaisical/carefree characters

What kind of scenes, situations etc do you believe you enjoy writing the most? (If you filled this out last year, has this changed in any way?) There's not a particular type of scene/situation I enjoy the most, I like a nice and healthy balance! Whatever strikes my mood at the right time.

Do you have any scenario in mind for your muse(s) that gets you thinking “man I hope I get to write this one day”? I did for some past muses, but I think now I'm just kind of seeing where things take me/

Favorite TOA-related memories? Any point when I wrote Lilina, I think she had the most event participation and I just have a lot of memories and connections I enjoyed with her

Present or past tense? I generally go for present these days, but I try to vary the tense depending on the situation.

Normal size text, small text, no preference? I usually use small text, but I don't have a preference and will adjust based on writing partner

Got any potential muse delusions to share? 😉I've given Framme and Eir a thought or maybe a rerun from my past

[mxftrash]

“Divine Beast” Erin Newgate

Self insert/girl failure. We are cringe and free here.

Lots of info under read more:

(Straight up self insert)

“Divine Beast” Erin Newgate is a 24 year old, college drop out that lived with her parents until being reincarnated/isekai. Girlfailure.

Found by the Whitebeard Pirates, joined and was apart of the crew for 2 years. Takes Whitebeard's last name after being accepted into his family, self proclaimed, and because she hates her real dad. An alternate universe where a hella more people live.

Erin is trying to navigate being in an anime and is failing her way up. How she managed to survive this long is by pure luck (she’s managed to survive 5 years). She’s trying to save characters from dying. She particularly close to Ace, they see each other as siblings nothing romantic. Eventually sees Luffy as her crackhead younger brother. Somehow she changes canon in weird ways.

Erin goes off with Ace for two years, remaining hidden and seemingly dead to the world.

After two years Erin and Ace meet with the Straw Hat Pirates under the personas Helios and Selene respectively; and join the Straw Hats.

She made note to collect any devil fruits she finds from characters who die or find. So far she’s collected:

Sara Sara no Mi, Model: Axolotl

Yuki Yuki no Mi (Snow-Snow Fruit)

Fude Fude no Mi (Brush-Brush Fruit)

Hebi Hebi no Mi, Model: Yamaha no Orochi

Tori Tori no Mi, Model: Vermillion Bird/Suzaku (given to Ace)

In the Wano Arc, she accidentally becomes a rebellion symbol. In Wano (this au) a Kirin is seen as good fortune, seen as a sign of the arrival of a great leader or passing of a ruler.

This leads to anyone from Wano treating her like a goddess, much to her displeasure and annoyance.

Affiliations: Straw Hat Pirates, Whitebeard Pirates (formerly)

Occupations: Boatswain; Negotiator; Pirate; Only Sane Person

Origin: Unknown

Alias: “Selene”

Epithet: “Divine Beast”

Age: 24 (post); 22 (pre); 19 (when found)

Pronouns: She/They/He

Birthday: March 11

Height: 160 cm (5’3”)

Bounty: $ 1,100,000,000 (current); 124,000,000 (first bounty)

Devil Fruit: Ushi Ushi no Mi, Model: Kirin

Type: Mythical Zoan

This fruit enables the user to turn into a kirin—a legendary hooved chimerical creature, and a human-kirin hybrid. As mentioned, the kirin is a type of chimera (諸雜獣).

キメラ Kimera, literally meaning "Various Mixed Beast"), a mythical creature or monster comprised of parts taken from various animals. In this case, it has the the body of a horse, the horns of a deer, the head and tail of an eastern dragon as well.

In full Beast Form, the user transforms into a gold- furred and scaled kirin with a flowing white mane, growing to rival a house. Human-Beast Form is slightly larger in comparison and, in shape, comes closer to Human Form, with gold scales on the arms, torso, back, and legs well as horns on users head, equestrian-like ears, fur on the elbows and ankles, and a long tail.

Usage

Grants user immense physical abilities in terms of strength, speed, endurance, and defense in both hybrid and full beast form. As a mythical creature it makes the user much stronger than a normal Zoan (said to be able to be stronger than a dragon). While in hybrid or full beast form, the user gains the ability to control fire elements. As well as “fly” which is just walking on extremely thin clouds, the ability to walk on water/air, which allows for transportation without means of boat.

The user has a uncanny ability to judge whether a person is good or evil in addition to see through lies and deceit. The users attack also deals stronger damage towards an enemy judged “evil”.

The Kirin has the power to change fate at the cost of the health of the user.

In addition the user’s life span extends dramatically to at least over a thousand years.

Previous User of the Ushi Ushi no Mi, Model; Kirin: Su Yasuke

Su had connections to Oden and Kaido. Now Arin has no idea how to live up to her name.

AU Changes:

Fishman Island Arc remains unchanged.

Punk Hazard Arc remains unchanged.

Dressrosa Arc remains unchanged until Luffy reunites with Sabo. As now Sabo knows Ace is alive, Ace gives Sabo permission to eat his devil fruit. (Minor AU Change)

Ace is revealed to be alive to the world. (Major AU Change)

Zou Arc remains unchanged.

Whole Cake Island Arc remains unchanged.

Pedro lives. (Major AU Change)

Wano Arc Changes

Ace is able to reunite with Tama and later Yamato. (Major AU Change)

Tomo lives. (Major AU Change)

Ace now has the Tori Tori no Mi, Model: Vermillion Bird/Suzaku (Major AU Change)

Izu lives, remains in Wano for the time being. (Major AU Change)

Yamato joins the Straw Hats instead of staying in Wano. (Major AU Change)

Carrot joins the Straw Hats instead of returning to Zou (Wanda takes her place). (Major AU Change)