#and everyone because we all deserve boops

[fromthechaoticmind]

EVERYONE BOUT TO GET A BOOP!

[freakingholland]

“The way to a gal’s heart is through her stomach.” - Jason Todd x fem!reader

A/N: Beep boop another Jason imagine, enjoy cuties <3

Warnings: not proofread, slightly suggestive content, swear words

Summary: Jason Todd is not only a superhero, he’s also a master of tomato soups. (fluff, domestic theme, slightly suggestive content)

Word count: 850 +

If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist (needs a proper update)

my wattpad archive is here

my AO3 archive is here

-

“NOOO, no no no I GOT THIS, SIT DOWN MA’AM” Jay said, waving his hands dramatically as if he was trying to shoo you away from the kitchen.

“Don’t raise your voice at me fucker!” you said snorting with laughter.

“Yes, ma’am BUT SIT DOWN PLEASE-- I GOT THIS LOVE!” Jay tilted his head and waited for your reaction giving you an innocent look.

“PLEASE! I GOT THIS!”

“Okay! Okay I will…” you said with your hands up, slowly turning away from your boyfriend. You were standing in the kitchen. You just got back home from work and were about to start making dinner for the both of you. However, Jason had other plans and was making sure that you wouldn’t lift your finger.

“Soooo, what do we have on the menu chef Todd?” Jason smirked as he saw you folding your arms over your chest and leaning against the counter. He reached for an apron that was hanging near the stove.

His triceps rounded as he moved his hands behind his back to tie it on himself. They were pretty tightly squeezed by a short sleeve of his t-shirt. You were wondering whether he was purposefully flexing just to make you feel a certain way.

“I was thinking of a baked tomato soup. But-- I shall gladly fulfill my significant other’s…” he prolonged.

“-dining desires…as­-- it’s my personal wish to suffice her stomach.” His words made you shake your head with a growing smile. God. This guy’s eloquence is truly admirable. So is his charm. And his warmth despite the hardships that life had thrown at him.

“Sounds good.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

“Sweet. Tomato soup it is.”

“How was work?” he continued.

“Could have been better honestly.  Collins had a problem again and decided to throw a fit at the end of the shift. Called in a meeting last minute just to scream his ass of for 20 minutes-- AS IF we could change anything.”

“Monica was late to pick up her son from preschool because of the asshole.” You continued your rant.

“Yeah, Collins has a knack for ruining everyone’s day,” Jay said, shaking his head as he rinsed his hands.

“It’s like the guy feeds off stress.”

“Exactly! And the worst part is, it’s not just me. Everyone’s been feeling it. EVEN Monica, who’s usually so calm, was on the verge of tears today. It’s just not fair.”

“Did she call you?” He asked.

“She texted me when I was entering our building.”

He shook his head no sympathizing with your work story.

“Ugh, I hate that for her. And for you,” Jay said, turning to face you. “You don’t deserve to deal with that crap every day.”

“Thanks,” you replied with a tired smile. “It’s just frustrating. I mean, we’re all trying our best, but Collins seems to think yelling at us is some sort of solution.”

“Man, I don’t know what to say… asshole’s pissing me off.” He licked his lips.

“And how is Jared doing?” Jay continued wanting to change the topic.

“He’s alright as far as I know.” You bit your lower lip.

“You know what? I actually thought about inviting them for dinner some time.” You said shyly.

Jay, still focused on the cutting board, looked up, noticing the slight hesitation in your tone.

“Why are you shying away like that?” he asked, with curiosity and concern in his voice as he turned to face you, pausing his chopping.

“Well, I wanna know-- if you’d have the energy and will to have guests over on your night off…?”

Jay walked over to the sink to wash his hands. He stepped away from the counters to kiss the top of your head as you were mentally supporting him in his cooking, watching from the tall bar stool.

“We can totally think about it, don’t worry about my energy.”

“I—Well I-- just didn’t want to overwhelm you--, you know? I know how hard you’ve been working lately, and I didn’t want to add more to your plate.”

Jay smiled, his eyes full of that familiar warmth that always made you feel at ease.

“I get it, and I really appreciate you looking out for me like that.”

“But honestly-- having them over might be just what we need. A break from the usual, a chance to relax, catch up with some good friends, and just enjoy each other’s company. It could be a lot of fun.” He continued.

„Plus, it would be a great opportunity to show off my cooking skills.” He said with a cheeky smile plastered across his face.

“Yeeeaah right…”

“Yeah right what?” Jay looked over his shoulder, pretending to be offended.

“’Kay hear me out-- how about we make a deal? If I can whip up the best tomato soup you’ve ever had, you have to admit I’m the better cook.”

“And if it’s-- just, okay?” you teased, biting your lower lip playfully. Jay leaned in closer, his voice deepened.

“Then maybe I’ll have to find another way to prove I’m the best at… handling things.”

“I like your confidence, Todd.”

“And I—like you Y/L/N.”

-

Stay whelmed xx

Tori

[a-hazbin-reader]

A reader who loves singing? Does Alator let her sing his radio show?

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being petty, Alastor eating people, Vox being bullied

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor loves having an wife who can sing, any talent of yours he celebrates but singing especially is his favorite

Alastor is the type of husband to brag to a room of strangers about how good his wife sings

Even the other overlords are SICK of hearing about you and your beautiful, heavenly, mesmerizing voice

Except maybe Zestial and Rosie, the two of them actually genuinely interested in hearing you sing

Alastor is absolutely embarrassing to take anywhere that there is a live band/music

Mocks any other singer on stage just to get a reaction out of people so he can get you up there instead

He loves your voice best 👌

"They're a fine singer, sure, I'm only saying that I've heard better~"

Not him throwing you on stage

Is your biggest fan, making sure everyone claps and cheers for you because he will eat them if they don't

You're going to be blushing the entire time on stage because he's going to be giving you the most sinful look while you sing

Even if he doesn't necessarily like the song you're singing, Alastor is content to just admire your vocal talent

He won't let anybody try to make deals or contracts with you over your voice, usually just giving people a terrifying grin as he pulls you close

Vox has asked you a few times to perform for his show, but Alastor is proud to say that his wife has better taste than that

He also exaggerates the story of how you turned him down, claiming you kicked Vox in the groin and shattered his screen

"Alastor! That's not how that happened-"

"No? Funny, that's how I remember it~"

And he usually does something funny to get back at Vox for even trying

In Alastor's opinion, there are only two ways to enjoy your voice

Either in person or on his radio show

Putting you on TV would only dull your natural sparkle and talent, take away how special it is to really listen to you

That's his opinion anyway

Will ask you to sing at the hotel instead, but really what he's asking is if you'll sing for him

Because if you perform at the hotel then he's not missing a single moment of it, each performance from you is a gift

Will have brief intermissions in his broadcast so that you can sing to all his listeners

Treats you as the Lilith figure for his show, believing that your singing does have some power to it but also just so he can rub his woman in Lucifer's face

"Seems as if her majesty wasn't the only one with a pretty voice~ Aren't we all so lucky to have Y/N~?"

Alastor, maybe don't piss off Lucifer by shit talking the mother of his child?

He'll play piano as long as you promise to sing, the two of you would have the BEST DUETS

If you sing him a love song, then he can't resist singing along with you and pulling you in for a dance

"You should serenade me more often, my dear~ I think I deserve such a treat from you every now and then~"

"You ate like six people today, I think you should think again."

Little nose boop for your husband

Not him biting your finger playfully as you go to pull it away

"You two are so fucking sweet it's making me sick, I'm outta here."

Sorry Angel

Sometimes he hums along with you if you're singing while you're working, content to harmonize with you

Lowkey gets jealous when other people sing with you but gets irritated if someone who can't sing tries to sing with you

He has gone so far as to threaten them for singing badly and ruining your song

"If you're going to open your mouth, it would do you well to mind the shit that comes out of it."

"Alastor!!"

If you ask him for it, Alastor will pull all the strings he can to get you a place just for you to sing

It'll be his shrine to your voice

No Mimzy, you can't borrow Y/N for your own business

Only people with refined tastes such as his own will be allowed in, Alastor makes sure it's the proper clientele

Oh and Husk will be the bartender

"You MOTHERFUCKER!"

Alastor likes taking your voice to it's limits, likes hearing all the different sounds you can make

And that includes in bed

Even if you sing a wrong note or mess up, he'll call it an artistic choice and praise you

He still cuts in on just about every song you sing because he can't help himself, music and Y/N? It's Alastor bait

Plus, the two of you get to show off together, compliment each other, and make everyone green with envy

Y'all are just too fucking cute

It's a dream come true for Alastor to have a wife who can sing

Oops! This became another Wife!Reader one...sorry... 🫡

[safination]

Partners in Death...and Life

Part 9: The Vow That Binds Me [Finale]

|Part 8:The Calm Before the Fall| |Part 10: After The Glimpse [Bonus]| |Masterlist| Ao3| Taglist| Series Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping . . . *checks notes* . . . the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason. Pairings: Alastor x wife!Reader Tags: fem!Reader, AFAB, Established Relationship, Asexual! Alastor, Alastor is in hell for a reason, Reader is in hell for a reason, dishes, being a simp for your partner, Asexual! Alastor, husband! Alastor. demon!Alastor Well, well, well. Three weeks later and here we are. The ending. Sorry it took so long gahaha. Here it is the ending. I hope you I delivered. Thank you everyone for reaching the ending with me. Uhhh… I’ll probably re-write some of the scenes here. There are some that I’m not exactly happy with and I know I can do better and you guys deserve my best. But for now I will sleep.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

One breath in.

One breath out.

One breath in.

One breath out . . .

It’s all you can do to stay sane. The mantra echoes across your head like a broken record. Crushing weight presses down on your chest. It forces shallow breaths out of your lungs—in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out.

Darkness surrounds you.

It’s almost mocking. Alastor’s darkness reaches out to you with only the softest of touches. His shadow loves to hover and place three small taps on the skin of your legs. Even when you drive Alastor to the edges of his patience an into the fiercest of fury, the darkest parts of him will play with the tips of your fingers.

One breath in.

One breath out.

How long must you endure this torture?

Well, that’s a ridiculous question! Alastor would certainly tell you so. His eyes would roll, and the base of his ears would flicker down with annoyance. Alastor would boop your nose or pinch your cheek. And that smile . . .ha. . .that smile.

A laugh escapes you. What a ridiculous question, indeed. You must endure for however long it must take.

The audacity of that man. How dare he turn you into a woman capable of such care . . . such affection. How dare Alastor make your living regret be that he never heard the words that’s inscribed in your soul. Now, it could also be your dying regret as well.

No . . . endure.

There are words Alastor needs to hear.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The tips of your fingers were right there. It was right in front of him. Close. Oh, so very close.

What happened? Where are you?

What happened? Where are you?

What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you?

Alastor says your name, and it comes out like a whisper.

The echoes of his own voice answer him and your name reverberates around the once still air.

It’s the only thing Alastor can think to say. The words . . . they aren’t . . . .Why aren’t they working? His brain reverts back to the basics of instincts, and Alastor always seems to find you there. His most default instincts always seem to choose you. Because who else was there to choose?

It’s why Alastor married you twice—he dropped to his knees twice and asked for your hand twice. He would marry you across different lifetimes and realities.

Alastor says your name once more, letting it leave his lips like a prayer.

The crack of snapping bones answers him. Every physical sensation of snapping gives itself to you like an offering. They break to accommodate his growing body. Are his antlers growing? They are. They grow like mighty and proud tree branches for you.

The bones of his neck snap in three different places. His claws sharpen uncontrollably until they pierce the skin of his palm. Blood drips down and pools on the floor.

Where . . . are . . . you? Where is his wife?

The shadows grow around him, dimming the space further. His own shadow hisses around, and spreads the darkness further up the wall. It has a frown and an image of a single tear on its face. Alastor presses a hand on the ground for stability, and concrete crumbles underneath the force of his growing fury.

He crawls down the hole, lowering himself to wherever you landed. Dust settles around him and the air rings with a stillness, broken only by the fain static that emanates from him.

Alastor tries to say your name again in a desperate attempt to reach out. Radio screeches escape him instead. Control slips from his fingers like fine grains of sand. It’s unusual. Alastor isn’t bothered by this. If anyone were to bring him into this type of insanity, it would be you. The power you hold over him—it cannot be measured.

Tendril whips around him, and topples everything on sight. The space glows a harsh green. It’s the only light that illuminates against his darkness. Power thrums through his veins and flow out of him in waves.

It’s a slow but steady build, but dread eventually settles its icy grip on his throat. Something beats into his ears, and Alastor thinks it's his own heartbeat. That’s impossible. His heart is currently missing and buried under concrete.

Where are you? Please, where are you? Where is his wife?

Inky voodoo dolls crawl out his shadow. They stick their hand out the pools of darkness and pull themselves free. The dolls begin to work without a verbal order. These dolls respond to his soul, and his soul yearns for you. One grabs a rock while another slithers between the cracks of broken walls and crumpled floors. Each stone they turn, nothing pans out. Each nothing cracks him further.

Alastor’s fingers bleed as he continues to dig you out. It’s as if his life depended on it . . . and it does. You are his life.

Little domino effects cause you to storm your way into his story, and Alastor accepted it with open arms. You weaved yourself into the very essence of his being. How cruel of you to torture him like this now.

One of his shadow chirps. Its inky arms lift a rock and present an arm with a proud smile.

Alastor’s heart thumps as he stalks closer. Stray debris crushes under his weight. He finally found you. You’re here. He’ll take you and get you safe, properly this tim—

The shadows blaze higher.

That is not your arm. Alastor knows it’s not you. The arm being presented to him is shorter and sports the wrong shade. The proper arm—your arm— has a scar that’s faded and barely there. It’s one thin white line that no one would notice, but Alastor does. This arm doesn’t have your scar.

Radio static screeched out his lips.

Alastor crushes the shadow like a bug, reveling in the way its ink splats across the space, and drips down the walls. The other dolls shrink at his fury. One glance and their mission continues.

There’s a game Alastor used to play when he first died and arrived in a world without you. It’s a game he played when he left several years ago.

The rules were simple: List down everything he would sacrifice to see you.

A finger? Alastor would chop it off himself.

Money? Take every penny he owned and will ever own.

As the days without you kept growing, so did his list. His pride. His status as an Overlord. His image. His power. these all turn meaningless when compared to you. Not even their combined might can compare to a single stray feather on your head.

Everything that makes him the Radio Demon pales in comparison to even the smallest smile on your lips.

Why be the Radio Demon when he could simply be your husband?

How dare you, honestly.

How dare you turn him into a man who would set aside his pride…his power.

If Alastor needs to beg, then he would. It’s that simple. He would drop to his knees until they bruised, and offer everything for you. Who would he cook for? Whose ramblings would he listen to? Who would hold your heart with the gentlest of hands that are only reserved for you? Whose ring would match his?

Another shadow chirps. It’s holding a rock above its head, and the friend next to it points to a cluster of feathers.

It’s you. You’re here.

Alastor moves the wall, listening for any sounds that indicate discomfort. You look so small like this—chest pinned underneath some debris. The tips of his claw caress the skin of your cheek. He’s careful not to pierce you.

Alastor scoops you into his palms.

The form of your body perfectly fits into his hold. It’s as if his hands were sculpted to fit it. You shift to your back, glancing at him with a hazed look on your face. Alastor holds your gaze just as much as you hold his. One of your hands moves up and down and up and down as if to lazily pet his palm.

Every rise and fall of your chest prompt his form to get smaller and smaller.

Alastor wraps his arm around your knees, carrying you in his hold. The wound on his chest flares when he presses your head deeper into his chest. It doesn’t matter if it hurts. He has no plans of letting you go.

“Hi . . .,” You smile up at him even as your eyes droop and dried blood cakes your face. “I . . .I knew . . . I knew—”

“I know,” he tells you. “Save your strength. I’ll take care of everything. So, rest now, my love.”

One hand reaches out. It’s shaking.  He meets you halfway, placing his cheek into your hold. Your thumb swipes the skin of his cheek. “Alastor.”

“I’m right here,” he says, nuzzling further. “Go on. I found you.”

You lean into his chest, letting yourself close your eyes.

Alastor presses his cheek on the top of your feathers until his bones properly snap back into place. He listens to your small breaths and the beating of your heart. Relief pours into him like one of your calming holds. It scares him.

He never should have allowed Charlie to talk to you. How selfish of him to involve you in this war to keep you next to him. Alastor has done a myriad of acts that serve his own self gain. Somehow, this is the worst sin he’s ever committed.

The shadows pull on his leg, and teleport him and you outside the hotel.

Lucifer battles with Adam across the sky with Charlie in his arms. Angels fly all around them. Chaos burns all around him in a way that would make him laugh. Alastor couldn’t find himself to even force out a small chuckle, not when blood stains your feathers and pain scrunches your face.

Lys and Heme spot you in his arms. They rush towards him.

The taller one . . . Lys? She reaches out a hand to try and take you from him.

She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him.

It’s instinct.

A tendril shoots out his back. It wraps itself firmly around the skin of her neck and squeezes with the might of his ire. How dare she reach out her sully hands on you.

Alastor pulls you closer to him and radio static grips itself in the air until the second intern takes a step back.

Heme leans on a stray table, watching with an apathetic gaze as they cross their arms. “If you kill us, I hope you’re prepared to accept that you killed your own wife,” they say. “Aren’t you supposed to be her husband?”

The only thing tethering him to this reality are the small breaths you’re taking. Your face presses against his chest. The weight of your head pushes against his wound but Alastor endures the pain for you.

Alastor turns to them with a hash glare. Kill you? He should kill them for such audacity.

Heme presses closer to the table. “You kill us and then what?” they say, plain and simple. “There’s a hospital on the other side of the city…but angels are currently flying around. You don’t know what could happen during that time, or how long you’ll have to wait until someone takes a look at her.”

Lys claws on the tendril around her neck. “We can assess her right now… right here,” she says, coughing up her words. “Get out of our way or let her die—your choice.”

The tendril gives one last squeeze and Lys’ eyes roll back for a moment. He removes the tentacles’ grip on her.

“Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you,” he says and adjusts his hold on you. Feathers slide to your face. “Quite the pleasure! I would shake your hand, but my arms are rather occupied.”

Lys crumples to the ground, wheezing in some air. There are faint marks around her neck. “Just…Just place her on the cot.”

Alastor places you down, safeguarding your head. He brushes the feathers away from your face and thumbs the dirty spots on your face. The interns quickly move around you, and he watches them closely with a look only a wife wouldn’t be scared off. One wrong step and their blood would splatter across the city and their screams would be broadcasted to even the furthest rings of hell.

They work quickly and carefully. Alastor doesn’t understand everything they’re doing, but eventually they leave.

Alastor involved you in the Hazbin Hotel’s business. He brought you here. It was him who found a loophole around his deal. It was him who placed that loophole in his deal that made sure he could keep you next to him.

“It was the only way….,” Alastor whispers into your ear. Feathers brush his lips with each word he speaks. “It was the only way to keep myself next to you.”

It’s why he agreed to do the commercial the first time Charlie asked, and the second time with Vaggie as well. Alastor took a video camera and carefully edited the clips to add his voice.

That public display with the snake the first day he arrived, and the second time he humiliated the snake as well. It was all for you. He displayed his power and flaunted it with such overkill that there would be no doubt it was him and not some cheap copy-cat.

The taunts with Vox gave him the opportunity to be loud. It was an even bigger microphone that announced his presence to the whole city. That there would be zero doubt from anyone’s mind that the Radio Demon has returned, but maybe, to you…it would be an assurance that your husband was reaching out to you.

Alastor could only hope you were listening. He could only hope that you would care enough about him to seek him out once more, even after he was forced to leave you without a word.

And you did.

You stood in front of him, smiling as you fumed. The smile on your face was meant to conceal your frown. What a ridiculous thing to do. Did you not think that Alastor wouldn’t know what a true smile from you looked like? As if he hasn’t been spending decades hanging them on your lips.

A piece of him returned the very moment his eyes landed on you. It was as if time ticked once more and air could finally return in his lungs.

“Did you think about me?” Alastor brushes some feathers off your face. Dust and blood mix together to paint your skin. “Did you think I would rather be in this hotel instead of the home I built with you? It's a ridiculous notion…and also something you would do.”

One of your interns left a cloth and a bowl of clean water next to him. Alastor takes it, and dips the edges in the water. He gently swipes it across your face to clear any dirt that covers the face of his wife.

“How unfair of me to do this to you,” he says. “How unfair of you to do this to me as well.”

Alastor involved you in this war, brought you to the hotel under the pretext of business. It’s a careful loophole he exploited for the one who wears the ring that matches his.

Bringing you as a staff of the hotel meant Alastor could be by your side once more. It meant there would be someone to cook for again. It meant there would be someone to annoy once more. It meant there would be someone in the bed next to him, filling the room with soft breaths.

Were these past several years just as torturous for you? They were to him.

It broke him more than he cared to admit. Alastor knew where you’d be in every hour of the day, and it almost killed him not to go see you. It was the worst several years of his life. Worse than the time he first appeared in hell without you because at least then he didn’t know where you would be.

The deal he made chained him.

Alastor will make sure that bind him will never be stronger than the vows that bind him to you. He doesn’t like what that thought means for him. You are the remnants of his humanity that he cannot cut off.

He slips the second ring off his fingers, and places it back around you. Alastor’s done this twice already—married you twice because there was no one else he could marry.

Alastor has always been a selfish man, and it has finally ruined you.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـ��ﮩ٨ـ

The sky greets you. Sulfur clouds lazily flow across its red canvas.

The blanket around your shoulder pools down your lap as you sit up.

Air flows through your lungs with air as fresh as two-week eggs. Bustling catches your ears as Sinners move about. Only the honks of traffic or the steady swoosh of the wind reverberate in your ears instead of high-pitched ringing.

Lys notices you first.

Her eyes quirk as she smiles, walking towards you. “You’re awake!” she says. “The extermination ended hours ago, so you’re safe to stay here until you feel like moving.”

Heme takes a seat on the edge of the cot.

“Most got sent home,” they say, crossing their legs. “It’s just you here now.”

Light glints off the ring around your finger and oh…there’s a ring around your finger but no Alastor. Later. Think about that later. “How long was a few hours ago?”

Lys hums, a hand on her chin. “Just a little four hours.”

You point towards the building up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel stands proud but different. There’s a giant dragon statue by the entrance. “That’s a fully built building.”

“It looks great, right? I’m just glad they didn’t ask for our help to build the thing,” Lys tells you, glancing at the hotel. “Lucifer used magic to speed up the process. It was interesting to see, but I’m not really the physical labor type.”

Heme leans back on the cot, propping an arm to steady themselves. “He also used magic to heal everyone else,” they say. “Just a snap of his fingers and bam healed. Some even re-grew the appendages we carefully sliced off.”

“Magic?” Your nose scrunches. “That’s convenient.”

“Too convenient.”

Lys blows a raspberry. “Boo.”

The pads of your thumb swipes the cool metal of your ring until your questions could no longer be held back. “My husband?”

“Yeah… he was the one who brought you here.” Lys makes a face, scratching her neck. “He filtered off somewhere when he spotted Lucifer walking down the hill.”

That’s disappointing. More than a little disappointing.

You spring from the bed, far easier than it should take. “Woah…,” you say, stretching your limbs. “That’s really great magic—I don’t feel a single thing.”

Heme snorts at you. “That’s good, considering you split your head wide open,” Heme says, snorting at you. “Who knew the Radio Demon easily panicked at the sight of blood.”

Panic?  What a silly, silly, thought. Alastor doesn’t panic at blood.

Lys scowls. “Ugh, I never want to hear his name ever again”

The new doors of the hotel easily open.

There’s a tower on the side of the hotel that looks like it has Alastor’s name written on the walls. The decorations are still tacky, and it lacks the homier and used atmosphere. That’s a shame.

It’s cleaner as well. You pick up any feathers that drop to the floor as you search for some way to get to Alastor’s tower.

Thankfully, there are signs that direct you to your destination. You go up the elevator and find yourself in Alastor’s tower. The fact that he has a tower here means he’ll probably still be staying here. You would need to leave soon unless you decided to stay.

Only a door separates you and your husband now.

The shadow’s harsh grip on the room lightens when you place a single foot inside. The more steps you take, the more shadows retreat.

Alastor’s back faces you. It stands proud as he stares out the window with folded hands. His eyes barely slide towards you, but they look and they linger for more than a moment. Harsh lines outline his body. Everything's sharper. It’s quite the menacing sight, indeed.

A question strikes you.

Who stands before you—Alastor or the Radio Demon?

“Tell me if anything hurts,” Alastor says and you choose to believe it’s him, even as a thick radio filter glazes his voice. “I want the truth.”

“Not a single feather out of place.” There’s a small smile on your lips even as he barely looks at you. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

Alastor’s back relaxes at your words. It only lasts a second before they tense up once more. “Good.”

“Thank you for asking, my lov—”

“Go home.” Alastor turns to the window, his back facing you once more. “The job Charlie gave you ended the moment the extermination did, and you are neither one of our staff or a guest.”

“Indeed, I am not,” you say, closing the door behind you. “I am only your wife, afterall.”

“Leave if you have nothing else to say,” he tells you, the lines between Alastor and the Radio Demon blurring. “…Be careful on your way home.”

“I’m in the mood for a walk,” you say. “Come with me? We can go home together. I lost quite a number of items, and I want to replace them sooner rather than later.”

Alastor tightens the grip he has on his hands. “I’m still needed here.”

“I’m thinking of staying,” you say just because. “The trees seem to have grown on me. And you know how difficult it is for me to suddenly change my sleeping arrangements. We can…We can finally do that picnic…”

Alastor turns—No.

The Radio Demon turns towards you, a wide smile on his face. “You can’t stay here.”

Your face falls into a blank as you stare at him. The audacity of this man to look at you like you are some wayward Sinner who would cower in fear. “I’m confused,” you say, slowly. “Explain it to me.”

His smile widens until it reaches his ears. “There’s nothing to explain. I don’t want you here.”

You steel your heart from his words. Comfort comes in the shape of his shadow. It plays with your own, a happy little smile on its face. “And?”

“Listen to me very closely,” the Radio Demon snarls at you, taking a single step forward. His figure towers over you menacingly. “I don’t appreciate having to repeat myself—Go home. You’re not wanted here, not by me.”

“You are my home,” you say. It’s a desperate attempt, an olive branch to allow him to retract any statements.

The Radio Demon stays silent, but wisps of Alastor appear in his cracks.

It’s the silence that forces you to turn your back towards him, facing the door to compose yourself. Deep breaths—in and out and in and out. It’s all you can do to hold your own cracking pieces together.

The smile you show the Radio Demon is a controlled and gentle smile that only a fool would mistake for kindness. “No, I won’t do it.”

A wave of power shoots out of him. The lights flicker and dim in response.

The Radio Demon glares at you, his pupils morphing into radio dials. Symbols carve themselves into the air. They flicker around you. The shadows that dissipated the moment you stepped into the room grew once more. It spreads underneath him, painting the room darker.

Radio feedback mixes itself within his words. “G̷̛̼͓̮͍̮ǫ̵̦̝̜͚̿͛ ̵̜͇̞̼̽̊̑̇̂h̸̗͌͘ö̵̼̠͔̰̭́̍̒͛̔m̴̜͐͝ë̵̻̗̲͇́ͅ.”

A knock sounds on the door. Only you notice the hesitant but firm knock.

Your back turns towards the Radio Demon, even as waves of power flow out his skin. Amidst of all shadows and static, his hand reaches out when you grip the doorknob and step out the room.

Radio screeches escape his mouth, and underneath the layers of static, you think Alastor says your name.

The door closes with a click.

Husk stands before you, an irritated look on his face.

“Hello,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “What brings you by—lost in rock, paper, scissors?”

“Volunteered, actually,” Husk says, snorting. “Wasn’t actually going to knock like I said I would, but these lights just got installed…and Vaggie mentioned spotting you on your way here.”

Another wave of power flows out the door. It’s stronger this time. Shadows pool out the cracks until the whole hallway dims, illuminated only by the faint green glow of the Radio Demon’s magic.

“Come on,” Husk says, ears flickering for a moment. “I’ll pour us a drink.”

“I don’t think the lightbulbs will survive if I do,” you say and sigh when they begin to flicker sporadically. “And there seems to be quite a number of them.”

Husk shrugs a bit. “He can afford a new set.”

“It’s alright,” you say, shaking your head.

“Before you go back inside,” Husk says, placing his hands inside his pocket. “The old bar…the one that was downstairs.”

Your head tilts. “What about it?”

“The bones, yeah? The one that decorated the bar…It’s him who placed those there,” he says. “Late at night, I’d catch him cleaning it sometimes, a drink in his hand. He gets pissy whenever it gets damaged.”

A small chuckle escapes your lips. The heads of his enemies were a gift to you, and the bones were your gift back. “Thank you for telling me this.”

“Will you be alright?”

“Eventually,” you say, a soft smile on your lips as you glance at the door. “You know how marriage can be—it has its ups and its downs.”

The door opens easily, and the shadows spill out and consume all the light around.

Static builds in a way that stings your ears. Still, you lock the door behind you, trapping yourself with the Radio Demon.

There’s a shocked look on his face as he stares at you. He’s grown in size since you stepped out the door. Some of the shadows retreat back into himself.

Radio dials still stare into you. The symbols flare and dim in a never-ending cycle. Lights flicker around you once more. His ears are pressed down, almost flat.

“Alastor,” you call out for your husband, staring him down. “You forget yourself.”

One blink and one of his eyes revert. It takes a couple more blinks for the dials to disappear.

All darkness recedes back into him as he controls himself. The Radio Demon still stands before you, composed but menacing. It’s a far cry from your Alastor. It doesn’t really matter who stands before you, actually. The Radio Demon or Alastor. He’s still your husband, no matter what shade.

It’s him who still wears the ring that matches yours, and it’s that exact fact that had you lock the door behind.

“I won’t do what you aren’t asking me to do.” The words come out weaker than you expect. “I won’t leave, Alastor. Not you—not ever.”

“Go home…please,” he says, diffing his claws into the skin of his palm. “The job that allowed you to stay with me ended. There’s no reason for you to stay anymore. You are—“

“Who I am is your wife, and you are my husband,” you say, a bit colder than intended as you reach the end of your patience. “Alastor, whatever it is, we can work through it. Was it…Was it something I said?”

“Go home.”

“Stop.” You ran a hand over your feathers, smoothening the ones that stick out. “You are my home, and there’s nowhere else for me to go but to you.”

One hand reaches out, beckoning him closer.

His shoulders relax, uncoiling the tension. The smile on his face turns softer. Every step the Radio Demon takes turns him back to Alastor, and Alastor plays with the tips of your fingers before taking them on his own.

Alastor places your hand on his cheek, nuzzling himself into your palm.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be left behind.” Your thumb goes up and down his cheek. “It’s you who always leaves.”

Alastor takes another step towards you, leaning even closer. “Then this is your chance to leave me.”

“You cannot make me.”

“I don’t want to see you,” he growls. It’s funny how his words tell you to leave, but Alastor pulls you closer to him, pressing his head on your shoulders. “Why bother to stay when I don’t want you here with me.”

Why?

That’s the question, isn’t it? Such a simple question can be answered with such a simple response. It’s the most natural thing you’ve ever had to say to him. It’s not difficult at all, not when it’s inscribed on your very soul. The only problem was finding the courage to do so.

You take his face, forcing him to look into your eyes. “I love you.”

Alastor takes a step back, a step away from you. The grip you have on his coat tightens, keeping him close.

“Don’t run away from this,” you tell him, trying to show him a smile. “Please, Alastor… I beg you. It almost broke me when you died. My mornings and nights bled into a dullness when you did not return to me. I don’t think I’ll be able to repair it if you force me to leave.”

Alastor caresses your cheek, trailing the back of his fingers down. “You will find a way.”

You stare into him, the smile on your face falling. If your eyes could turn into radio dials, they would.

“I love you,” you repeat, clutching the lapels of his coat. “Damn you, Alastor. I love you in ways you cannot understand. I love you in ways I don’t know how to express because of how much it overflows.”

Alastor stares into your eyes. Thoughts run through his mind, but you cannot decipher a single one. It’s his silence that stings the most.

“You are a piece of my heart.” The words come out quickly… desperately. “No number of stitches will be able to repair me.  I will scar because of you.”

“Then leave.”

You crash your head into his chest, pulling yourself into his hold. Alastor snakes his arms around your waist, dropping into you.

There it is again. The words he says differ from the actions he takes.

“You have said a myriad of insults. I’ve heard you say that you don’t want me…that you don’t care for me … but not once have I heard you asked me to leave,” you say, clutching the fabric of his coat. “I will leave if you truly wish we gone, but first you have to ask me to do so.”

Once more, silence is the reply he cares to give you.

“Damn you, Alastor. Say something—Ask me to leave you!” you exclaim. There’s a part of you that wants to scream at him. Make him hurt until he gives you another expression besides that permanent smile of his. “Tell me to leave, and I will do so. I will vacate the home we built and return the ring you gave me.”

There’s a box inside your pocket. It’s not exactly your most precious item, but it’s what’s inside that matters to you the most. You take it, and slam it against his chest.

Alastor takes the box, opening it to take a look inside. His eyes widened as he stared at the item. The box only holds one item—the paper ring he used to propose to you. It’s a very, very, old piece of paper. The most precious piece of paper in your world.

“I will forge the vows you made and forgive the vows you are breaking,” you tell him. It’s been a long day, a too long day. You press your head on his chest, leaning into him. “Rip yourself from my very being, then and only then will I leave you.”

“This is yours.” Alastor closes the box around your fingers, gripping it tightly around his own. “Whether you want it or not—it’s yours.”

Your nails dig into the wood of the box. “Are you asking me to leave?”

“I don’t want you here,” he says, weakly. “How much cleared do I need to be to get it in your thick skull?”

Anger burns through your body. “Are you asking me to leave?”

Silence. That’s all he gives you. Alastor’s lips twist, even as a smile paints his face. The hand around your waist tightens.

“Answer the question, my love,” you say, almost mockingly. “Come on. This is it. Ask me to leave and I wil—”

Alastor grabs your shoulders, and another pulse of power flows out of him. “I cannot cut you out!”

“And you think I can?” you exclaim, gripping his coat. “Do you think that I could hurt you like that? That I would be willing to leave you?”

Alastor pulls himself away from your hold to walk across the room. Once more, his back faces towards you as he runs a hand across his hair. His hand trails down to his mouth, covering it as he takes one single deep breath.

You will him to find his voice.

(You hope he never does.)

Alastor reaches out for you.

A single step back. That’s all you take, but his ears droop lower. It forces you to look at everything except him. What expression is Alastor making now? Part of you never wants to know. “What do you want to ask me?”

A soft click of a dial and music fills the air.

Alastor tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him. There’s a smile on his face when he swipes his thumb across. “May I have this dance?”

Once more, he holds a hand out, and you find yourself accepting him.

Alastor plays with the tips of your fingers before taking it in his hold. A hand snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The music builds, and his grip on you tightens even more.

Alastor takes the lead on this dance. Foot forwards. Back. When was the last time you’ve done this? Every beat of the music has you dancing across the room. The pace of his movement picks up with the music. Alastor tightens his grip on your hand, swinging you backwards, dipping low, then soaring into the air. He doesn’t stop twirling you until you’re laughing in his arms, a wide smile painted on your lips.

Music flows into your body, replacing any hurt or anger. It doesn’t seem to matter. Not when Alastor presses you oh so close into him, dipping you forward and looking into your eyes. He’s here. You’re here. That’s all that matters.

Alastor grips your waist, lifting you into the air and lands you on one of the tables.

The firm grip around your waist lingers when he takes his spot between your legs. Alastor presses his head on your shoulders, leaning into you. Just a moment here. That’s all you need, and maybe that’s all he needs as well.

He takes both your hands, intertwining them with his own. The rings around your fingers press against each other. Alastor squeezes your hand. “Will you stay?”

You squeeze back. “Of course.”

He presses a kiss on the edge of your lips. “Even if I cannot give you what you deserve?”

“I don’t need you to give me anything,” you tell him, connecting your foreheads together. “I’m living the life I wish to live. Throughout the Earth…no, not just Earth, but in Heaven and Hell as well, there is nothing more perfect in this universe than when I am with you.”

You press a hand on his chest, steading yourself to place a kiss on his cheek.

Huh…that’s weird. It’s wet.

There’s a wet spot on his chest, and it seeps into your palm. You retract your hand even as Alastor tenses for a moment. Oh…there’s blood on your hand.

Blood?

Realization hits you with its cold, cold, grip.

You push him away, halting the moment. Alastor shakes his head, reaching out for you once more. Instead, you grab his coat and pull on it like a madwoman. The grip on him tightens when you sloppily claw his coat off his body.

The frenzy stops when it slips off his shoulders and away from his arms. It gets thrown away somewhere irrelevant to this very moment. You grip his dress-shirt, practically ripping off the buttons to expose his bare chest.

Jagged stitches run across a fresh and bleeding wound. Green threads sow his skin together. It’s sloppily stitched together.

One hand reaches out to touch him, but Alastor catches your wrist.

“Alastor…,” you say, and his name leaves your lips in a whisper. “What did you do to yourself?”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

There’s sadness painted across your face. It’s in the way your lips wobble, and it’s in the way your eyebrows furrowed together. 

There are times when Alastor believes himself to be heartless, incapable of emotions that don’t serve his own self-interest. Yet…here you are, proving him wrong once again.

A part of him screams and begs to turn away, because every wobble of your smile plunges a knife into a heart he obviously owns.

Alastor isn’t allowed to look away, not when it’s him who took a bloodied brush and painted a frown over your lips. It’s because of him that your shoulders are dropping with a sad, sad, expression on your face.

He smiles at you. “It’s only a few hours old.”

A small laugh spills out. Experience tells him it’s not because you find his joke humorous. “Don’t…” You shake your head, staring at him with a hollowness in your eyes. “Don’t talk to me right now.”

There really isn’t anything else to do but nod.

There’s a couch in this room. It’s one of the many new pieces of furniture in his radio tower. You grab his hand, pulling him towards the couch. Alastor follows each and every of your silent commands, and takes a seat when you push him down the cushions.

“I need scissors,” you tell him, plain and simple. The sadness locks away, replaced by a frozen gaze. “Scissors, Alastor.”

A snap of his fingers, and any tools you could ever need appear by your lap.

It’s simple work, really–almost automatic. You grab the suture scissors, and snap the first thread he forced deep into his skin. The wound flares open and Alastor bites down on the bottom of his lip. The sharpness of his teeth threaten to draw blood.  

Another snap of the sutures and Alastor digs his claws into his palm. The fire that surges from his chest mocks him with its pain, a reminder that embers of his humanity cannot be snuffed out.

There’s a finger that pokes his arm, grounding him away from the pain. It trails down his skin until it reaches where his claws dig into his palm. Three taps – one, two, three – and his fingers retract from his palm.

You insert your hand into his hold, intertwining your fingers between his own.

If snipping his sutures with one hand inconveniences the process, you make no complaint. But it’s always been like this, hasn’t it? A task done together, hands intertwined with only one usable hand. 

One suture after the other, you snip the threads Alastor forced into his skin. As each snip flares in pain, Alastor squeezes down on your hand. 

As each snip exposes his wound once more, you squeeze his hand back.

You grab the forceps next, and pick out the remaining sutures inserted between his skin. Still, your hand never tries to leave his grip. Part of Alastor wants to exist in this moment even after eternity ends. Even when the pain forces his teeth to grind, Alastor would rather stay here, and hold on to you without ever letting go.

You hover your palms above his chest.

Alastor pulls away from your hand, even if it pains him more than your snipping to do so, and snatches your wrist away from his injury. “Don’t…I know what you’re trying to do,” he tells you, and the base of his ears flatten on his head. “Don’t do it – not for me.”

“Let me do this one thing,” you say, voice low and barely a whisper. “Please…just let me do this one thing for you. That’s all I’m requesting as your wife, and I will do whatever it is you want me to do.”

“I will beg if that’s what you want me to do,” Alastor says, his grip still secure around your wrist.

“I love you, always,” you tell him, and the flutters in his heart blooms. It’s been blooming since you first said the words. “Even when you hide things from me, even when you died, even when you left for seven years, and even if you will leave for another seven years.”

Alastor doesn’t have the resolve to deny your request.

Decades of marriage. Decades of time together. Decades of living in a world where magic and sorcery are possible. It’s only natural you would know how to use the power that comes with your soul. And right now, Alastor regrets helping you cultivate this power, even if it’s serving his own benefit. Especially, when the cost comes in the form of you.

Flickers of your soul flow straight into his body, mending the jagged points of slashed tissues and muscles into one long scar. 

The joints of your knees buckle as you try to stand.

It’s instinct for Alastor’s hand to shoot out, catching your shoulders in his hold and steadying you until you’re seated next to him on the couch. There’s a soulless expression between your eyes, even as he runs his thumbs over your cheek.

Was it too much?  Did transfering even the smallest flickers of your soul take too much from you?  Or did Alsator do what he always does – he takes and he takes and he takes until there’s nothing left?

There it is again–his selfishness has damaged you.

Finally, you glance at him, and the flicker of your eyes pulls his heart above the water’s surface. 

One hand reaches out. It pulls his head on the soft plush of your lap. Your fingers thread through his hair, letting red strands flow through your fingers. The tips of your nails scratch the base of his ear, bringing Alastor into a slow lull. It’s a gentle touch that he doesn’t deserve.

It’s been a long day, and Alastor’s tired of trying to get you to leave. Can he stay here for the rest of eternity? The way your fingers thread through his hair prompts his eyes to dro–

The first tear lands on his cheek.

It doesn’t stop at one. Tears slip out the slits of your eyes, trailing down until they splatter on his face. There’s still that soulless look on your face, even as the tears flow.

Alastor springs from your lap, reaching out to wipe the tear away with the pads of his thumb. Oh…oh. He did this. Alastor made you cry. “Don’t cry for me.”

Another tear slips out. “Then stop making me cry.”

“I don’t deserve your tears,” Alastor tells you, catching the next tear that slips out.

Your eyes flutter to a close, accepting the fact that tears flow down your cheeks. “You’re the only person who deserves these.”

Alastor grabs your hand, squeezing them in his hold. It’s something you’ve never said out loud, but Alastor knows you hate showing him your tears. It’s such a ridiculous thing. He would never judge your tears. To anyone else, tears would be a sign of weakness. Not for you—tears mean you cared.

“What did you do to yourself?” you say, clutching his hand tightly. “Alastor, why would you do that to yourself? I would have helped you… Do I… Do I mean so little to you?”

Alastor grabs your face, swiping the tears. “No, not at all,” he says, quickly. “You are—”

“What. Tell me what.” Your lips twist. “What am I to you Alastor? The bane of your existence? Ridiculous?”

“Yes.” These are the first words that slip out his mouth.

You stare at him, gritting your teeth. “Yes?”

“No!”

“No?” you parrot back, pulling your hand off his hold. He tries to reach for it again, but you only pull it back further. “Alastor, which is it?”

“No,,” he says, weakly… desperately. “You are my very existence, and I cannot cut you off without cutting myself as well. It’s almost as if my lips were made to say your name.”

More tears slip out your eyes, and you use your wrist to wipe them away.

“I am a selfish man, and all I can ever want is you. I would give up everything for you,” Alastor tells you, taking your hand to press himself against it. He presses a kiss on the metal of your ring. “My status… My pride. They are meaningless in the face of you. I cannot drag you down any further than I already have all because there isn’t a corner in all of hell where I can hide from you.”

Alastor’s smile falters at your silence.

For once in his life, he can’t keep the smile on his face. He doesn’t deserve to smile. What would you think when you see him smiling at your pain. The pain he causes you.

It begins to droop, and you catch it with the tips of your fingers, pushing the edges of his lip up into a smile. “A frown doesn’t suit you, my love,” you say, even as tears drop down your cheeks. “Smile for me.”

Alastor laughs instead of smiling. 

This dance you’ve both been doing. Ridiculous and silly. That’s what it is.

He pulls you on top of him until the both of you are spread out of the couch. Alastor kisses every tear, pulling you tighter against him. “You are my everything,” he tells you. “And I never should have done anything to make you believe otherwise. Everything I do… I do it with you in my mind and in my heart.”

You curl into him, bringing your legs closer and Alastor places his chin on top of your head. “Then why did you leave me?”

“Do you really think I would have left you willingly?” he asks you, pressing a kiss on the crown of your feathers. “I need you to know that I am doing everything I can to stay by your side.”

“I don’t know what to think.” You trace circles on his skin.

“Listen to what I’m going to say next.”

“Why?” you say. “All so I can hear you call me ridiculous?”

“No, not at all… I love you,” Alastor says, and it comes out quickly. What do you see in those eyes of yours? “I love you.”

A small smile quirks into your lips as you stare into him with eyes that crinkle. That’s better.

“It’s not a lie,” he says, desperately. “You have to believe me when I say I love you. It’s nothing but the truth because it is—I love you.”

You place a hand on his face, the pads of your thumb going up and down. “Why would I think you were lying?”

Alastor pulls you into a kiss. Usually, they’re slow as he likes to take his time to write you poems that explain how happiness flows out of him in waves. It’s you who places this seed in him and it’s you who takes care of it with gentle hands.

Alastor writes you poems with his lips. Each kiss tells you about how the sun nor the moon nor the stars can compare to the light that shines in your eyes nor can it compare to the light you ignite in his. Each movement tells you how not even water or air can be as important as existing with you in every moment across space and time.

It’s him who pulls away first. Greedy. He becomes too greedy when it comes to you.

Your eyes are still shut. He runs his thumb over your eyes, nudging you with his nose until your eyes flutter open. Oh, how they shine brighter than the moon.

There’s a box in your pocket that he pulls out. The ring was so old. The paper stains yellow and obvious fold marks crease the edges. You took care of it, all these years together and you took care of the first ring he ever gave you.

“How do you still have this?”

“Because I loved you enough to be buried with it,” you say, and your eyes crinkle at you smile. “And I loved you even more to disturb my own grave.”

“You are the most ridiculous person to ever exist with… Say it again,” he tells you, practically begging you to do so again. “I want to hear it again.”

You steal a kiss from him and it takes every inch of his self-control not to pull you right back to it. “Only if you say it as well.”

“I love you,” Alastor says and only the truth spills out his mouth. “And I will tell you I love you for the rest of eternity and beyond that as well.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Every step Alastor takes, you take.

Every corner he rounds, you round.

It’s easy to follow him when he does nothing to conceal his presence. The Radio Demon struts around town, a hand on his back and a microphone slotted around his arm, without a care in this world. His back is broader in this body, and his waist slimmer. Still, his legs take long and fast strides.

A small giggle escapes your lips as you follow him down the street.

Alastor turns right, disappearing into an alley. You hop over some trash and step over some blood, and follow the Radio Demon into an alley.

The moment you step deeper into the shadows, tendrils snake up your leg, and around your waist and wrist. They hoist you into the air, tightening around you as they squeeze painfully. You try to pull away, but its grip on you tightens.

Alastor steps out of the shadows, a permanent smile on his lips.

You smile back at him, letting out a blissful sight. “Hi.”

“Hello,” he says and steps further into the light. Tuffs shoot out of his head, and part of your wonders if those were his ears. Dear god, there are itty-bitty antlers on his head. (They’re too cute.)

“Hello?” you parrot back, making a face. “Like a knife straight into the heart! You wound me, sweetheart.”

Alastor’s smile shifts until you see the yellow in his teeth. It’s a snarl. A barely noticeable one, but it’s there. It’s in the way his cheeks strain and in the way his chest puffs out further. The stitches on the side of his mouth flare as he smiles at you.

The tendrils tighten and you grit your teeth. “This is new,” you say, trying to keep your smile. “You should be careful with those. My husband gets oh so terribly jealous.”

Alastor leans on his microphone. “You’ve been following me all day.”

His bowtie is crooked. Even in hell, Alastor still wears a bowtie. You point towards it, even if the tendrils around your wrist limits movement. His eyes slide down to it, and he fixes it himself.

“Oh darling…I’ve been following you for the last three months,” you tell him, still trying to pull free from the bondages around you. “That’s alright. I always was better at following you. I even followed you all the way here. Ha!”

“Are you a fan?”

Your face scrunches and you recoil as if you’ve been shot. “A fan?” you exclaim, trying not to gag. “That’s twice you’ve managed to insult me.”

Something flickers through Alastor’s mind.  It’s a quick flash. Whatever he thought of has him laughing out loud. It’s breathy and light, and one of the best things you’ve ever heard. Oh, how you’ve longed for the sound of his laughter.

Alastor’s fingers tighten around his microphone as he forces himself to stop laughing. There’s a steely look on his face, as he digs his nail into his skin. It’s almost as if he’s surprised.

“How delightful!” he says and you doubt he actually believes that. “It seems I have been entertained. Shall we strike a deal? Tell me what you want and it shall be yours…for a price, of course.”

“I hope you don’t go around flirting like that with every lady you see—I get rather jealous as well.”

He glares at you.

You show him your most innocent smile.

There it is again. Something flickers in his mind. Alastor studies you for a moment, and the restraints loosen around you. His eyes widened. It’s barely noticeable—a quick lift of his eyelids in surprise.

After the initial shock, the tendrils tighten on your body, and you yelp, pushing away as it squeezes on you.

“Alastor, stop!” your cry out, leaning away to try and get even a semblance of space. It hurts…but… uh… in an exciting way. Part of you wonders if he still wears sleeve garters—you hope he does. (You need to keep it together.) “I’ll let you know that this hurts. You’re hurting me.”

“Good.”

“Ooooh, I do love it when you flirt with me.”

“If you value your life, I suggest you stop your game,” he hisses out. His smile wobbles for a second before they widen into a snarl as his eyes darken. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you. I’m losing interest by the second and I’m in need of a new voice for my radio.”

You cough a bit, trying to clear your throat. It’s quite warm today. “I think you would be interested in my name.”

Alastor snorts like you’ve said something funny, but his ears flicker a bit. There’s interest written all over his face, and only you can see it. Hmmm, maybe a little bit of hope as well? He taps his fingers on his microphone. “Why should I care for your name?”

“Because you made a vow.”

His teeth clench, and a muscle on his cheek tightens. The tendrils around your body lower you gently, only slithering away when your feet safely touch the ground. Still, they hover closely as you regain your balance. It’s as if they stay close just in case you fall over, ready to hoist you.

Red marks imprint your wrist from where the tendrils squeezed.

“Go on,” he says, and his eyes flicker to the marks on your skin. “You have one chance to keep my interest.”

You tell him your name.

Your first name, and the last name he shared with you. “…Pleasure to be meeting you!” One hand rests on your chest, and the other shoots to the air. It’s the bow you would do in high-school, back when you wanted theater to pay your bills. A performer’s bow. “Quite a pleasure!”

Alastor stares at you for a moment. Those red eyes of his flicker to you, taking in… well, you. It takes a moment for him to respond. “I don’t think it will be quite the pleasure you think.”

“Is that so?” Your smile remains constant, even as a small laugh escapes you. “And why would that be?”

You extend a hand out to Alastor, beckoning him closer.

 He takes a single step closer, and you mirror his movements. The more steps he takes, the more steps you take. It’s like a dance that only stops until you’re a breath away. Alastor inches even closer, studying the grooves of your new face.

He presses a hand on your face, and you lean into his touch. There it is again. Even in this new body, his thumb goes up and down the skin of your cheeks. And even in this new body, it still feels the same. It still feels like Alastor.

Your eyes close, letting yourself feel his touch.

Alastor says your name as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Yes?” you say.

Alastor’s hands trails down until it wraps around your wrist. You wince a little when you feel his fingers. “I shouldn’t have done this to you,” he says. He holds them gently, cradling them as he brings his lips on the inside of your wrist. “My dear.”

“Yes?” You pull your wrist from his hold, and press a small kiss on his cheeks. It’s a silent act.

“My love.”

Another kiss on the other side of his cheek. “I’m right here.”

“Dearest.”

A kiss on the edge of his mouth. You allow your lips to linger on him, brushing him with a soft reply. “Yes?”

“My, most, dear.” Alastor pulls you closer. His nose nudges you, poking you a little. “My, only, dear.”

“Yes?”

Alastor says your name again and again, and you respond again and again. He brushes some feathers away from your face, taking a long and good look at you.

His breath mixes with your as inches of space separates your lips. Just a moment…that’s all you need. Just a single moment to feel his presence before you could lose yourself into him.

Once, someone told you the moment before the kiss was more magical than the kiss itself. It’s in the fluttering eyes, the soft intakes of breath, and the feeling of hands tightening around your waist. Intoxicating. That’s the only word that could even come close to the way Alastor tortures you.

They would be correct, if they weren’t so wrong.

He takes half a step closer, and the distance disappears. It forces your eyes to shut, the feeling of his lips too overwhelming to keep it open. A new set of lips places kiss after kiss, but the movements are all the same. It still feels like your husband.

His thumb brushes your cheek. The other hand pulls you closer to press you into him, and you slot perfectly, as if you were made to fit him.

Alastor takes his time, kissing you softly as he writes you a poem with only the taste of his mouth.

He pulls away first, and for once in your life there isn’t an urge to pull him right back in. That’s alright. There will be an eternity of moments like this. Maybe your lifetime with him wasn’t with the living, but with the dead.

Alastor’s thumb brushes over your eyelids, a silent request to open them. There’s no other option but to flutter your eyes open because there’s no option to deny him, not when he holds your heart.

Red eyes stare into you. They’re no longer brown, but they still shine brighter than starlight.

“Hi,” you say once more.

Alastor smiles at you. “Hi.”

You pull him into a hug, and Alastor curls into your hold, resting his head on your chest. He’s taller in this body, so his back has to bend to fit your hold. His hands curl around the fabric of your blouse as he pulls himself closer.

The joints of your knees begin to buckle. Alastor tightens his already tight grip on you, keeping you steady. Home. He still feels like home.

Every breath he takes raises his chest up and down, and it grounds you to this world like a lifeline. Alastor… oh your precious Alastor. He’s here. You’re here. You and him. Him and you.

“You were wrong by the way,” you say, sinking into him.

Alastor looks up at you, catching your gaze because it was only ever his to catch. “What?”

“It was quite the pleasure to meet you.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

So, we have reached the ending. Gosh I did not think we would ever reach here. This is like my first ever full fic and I hope you guys enjoyed it. Thank you to everyone who clicked on this story and gave me a change to share a story with all of you. So, we have reached the ending. Gosh I did not think we would ever reach here. This is like my first ever full fic and I hope you guys enjoyed it. Thank you to everyone who clicked on this story and gave me a change to share a story with all of you. Taglist: @mybrainsautocorrect @ray-rook @valentique @qardasngan @teavibesaf @tobyisher3 @amoraneuro @okay-babe @alastorssimp @aestheticgals-blog @reikamasama @slaggylemon @lyralibra @holymusicalmothman @amoraneuro @littledolly2345 @b-o-n-e-daddy @infinitefox @ayyyyyy-vase @kny-kween @thehiddenvase @stclen-sweethearts @obessivlyonline @inthemiddle0feverywhere

[foxyyaoguai]

The antis have been all over my posts in the last few days, so I wanted to share my experiences and write a guide on how to deal with them. 

First off: Our ships and character preferences are valid, no matter how hard some people try to demonize them. We are part of fandom and allowed to post about the things we enjoy, just like everyone else. Our fanfics, fanart, video edits, photo edits, etc. are all works of love and they deserve to exist and be explored by others. 

✨ Strategies for dealing with antis ✨

Don’t engage. I have checked the bios of all the antis that left comments under my posts, and the majority of them are minors. You don’t want to talk to minors in fandom spaces!! And a conversation based on logic or reason won’t be possible either. 

Delete their comments. Tumblr, Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube allow you to delete comments, DO IT!! You created something with love and hateful comments have no place underneath it. Even if the comment just makes you uncomfortable and isn’t outright hateful, it is perfectly reasonable to delete it for your own sanity.

Block generously. Not only the people who target you specifically but also anyone who engages in character- or ship-bashing. People who do that for one ship will do it for other ships too and it’s extremely bad fandom etiquette. When you see a character or ship-bashing post, block everyone who liked it and then the poster.

Report people for harassment. The rules vary by site, but especially threats of violence should be reported. Also, if someone follows you to another social media site after you’ve blocked them, that is called block evading and you should report that too. 

When you see other people getting hateful comments underneath their posts, leave a nice comment to offset some of the negativity. Your being supportive can make the difference between this person never posting again and them being motivated to keep going. People are always welcome to send me links to a post that is getting targeted by antis and I’ll like it and leave a nice comment. 🥰

Don’t let the bad comments outshine the positive ones! Every time my post gets enough traction for antis to find it, it also gets lots of lovely reactions. Many people have told me that my content and recommendations made them ship my OTP, and that is the single thing that makes me happier than anything else. Take a screenshot and look at these kinds of comments when you feel down. This is the real reason you should keep posting. 

Most hate comments are exceptionally uncreative. It helps to laugh about it, preferably with a friend. ✨ Remember, you used your energy to create something and you should be proud of it!

When you see a creator you like, but they also display obnoxious behavior towards people who like other ships, characters, or dynamics, at the very least don’t give them a platform by sharing their posts. 

Stay safe. Don’t post personal information online. 

It’s completely valid to step away from social media for some time. Private your accounts, turn off notifications, do a canon reread, read some fanfics in peace. Whatever it takes to remind you why you love the things you love. 

Bonus Tip: Watch videos of cute animals to destress. Bunnies nose-booping each other can (and will) cure anti-induced anxiety. :)

✨ Platforms sorted by least to most toxic and my advice for using them ✨

1. Discord 

Discord is great because you can join servers specifically for your favorite characters and ships. If a server doesn’t already exist, consider setting one up! Pro tip: only invite people that have positively interacted with you in the past. A small server consisting of nice people is a lot more fun than a large server consisting of members that can’t get along or are only marginally interested in the topic. 

Fandom Discord servers have clear guidelines on what you can post. As long as you follow the rules, people have no grounds for calling you out. In my experience, moderators are quick to respond to harassment.  

When you join a server and you see they heavily restrict certain types of content, it is a red flag. Proceed with caution, even if you plan to only talk about “safe” characters and ships. 

2. Tumblr

I have rarely gotten hateful comments on Tumblr, and the few times I did they were easy to delete.  

A lot of the older fandom generations use Tumblr and they are more mature and accepting of all kinds of content.

3. Twitter

Twitter makes it easy to curate your own fandom experience. You can mute words you don’t like to see on your timeline, mute and block users, and most people have their ship preferences in their bio.

4. Instagram

My Instagram posts about Jadecest get a lot of positive interaction, even more than on Twitter. There are unpleasant comments once in a while, but they are easy to delete. 

Blocking a user will delete all their comments from your posts. 

5. YouTube

People who don’t like your ship will downvote your videos and downvotes lead to the algorithm not recommending your videos. 

I have gotten a few negative comments, but they are easy to delete. 

6. Reddit 

When you post in a fandom subreddit, everyone will see the post, independent of their ship preferences. 

There are a lot of minors on Reddit. 

You can’t delete comments.

Most fandom subreddits are poorly moderated. 

7. TikTok

I have gotten the most hate comments on TikTok. They can be filtered or deleted, but antis interacting with your video by leaving hate comments will lead to the algorithm recommending your content to even more antis. It can get very ugly. 

If you post on TikTok consider turning off comments, stitches, and video replies. You can also mark your content as 18+, so it won’t get recommended to minors. (Again, antis tend to be underage.)

Platforms are more toxic the more they show your content to people outside your bubble. Discord, Tumblr, and Twitter keep your content relatively well contained to your circle of friends. Reddit, TikTok, YouTube, and Instagram heavily promote your content outside your bubble, which is good, because more people are going to see it, but also bad, because it reaches more antis. 

~~~

Antis are loud and obnoxious, but it’s important to remember that they are a minority. Ship and let ship still exists, especially among the people who have been in fandom spaces for more than just a few years. Don’t be afraid to post your content and express your love for your favorite characters and ships! I, for one, would love to see your creations, and many other people would love to see them too. 

What are your experiences and strategies for dealing with antis?

[onskepa]

Helllooo, could I get a Rapunzel AU fic? In this universe Spider would be the rapunzel of the story, he gets stolen from his family, the Sullies, at a young age (he was adopted by Jake and Neytiri a couple of months after his dad’s death, although he really isn't) Quaritch would be the mother gothel of this AU, keeping Spider in a tower because his magic hair is what is helping him keep being alive. Then Loak would be like Flynn, but in this case a prince going through a rebellious phase, so he stills his older brother crown ( he doesnt really know Spider, cause he was a baby when he was kidnapped) his thief name is “Tulkun” and his partners in crime are Lyle and Z-Dog.

Quite the intersting idea I gotta say, none the less! I hope you enjoy this one!

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

Our sun

The sun gives life to all, brings warmth and comfort. With its bright radiant light, it guides everyone to their path. Brings happiness and provides. A great gift humanity has ever gotten. For centuries, humanity has shown their gratitude in many ways. Praising, worshiping, believing the sun is their god. 

A god that is powerful and strong. The Omatikaya kingdom knows that better than anyone in the world. Festivals, sigils, legends, their symbol of the kingdom, all were dedicated to their sun. 

For centuries the kingdom has never wavered their belief in the sun. Remaining strong and true. Always grateful and never greedy. And so, the sun god who was also grateful for the people the sun provides to, believes they deserve a gift. 

A drop of sunlight fallen from the sky has touched the Earth. Gifting the king and queen of the Omatikaya their beautiful sunshine child. 

That is what the story says of course. 

“He is beautiful…” Jake Sully, King of the Omatikaya kingdom, gently coos at his believed son. Beside him was his queen, his love, and mother of their golden child, neytiri. 

“He is perfect,” Neytiri smiles as she rubs her nose gently against their sons button nose. He gives light giggles in satisfaction. Their son, their beloved child. A gift from the sun. His beautiful golden curly hair, bright blue eyes that can rival the sky. And his smile, so radiant and infectious. Their son, the kingdom's golden prince. 

Wrapped in the finest silk with embroidery intricately designed to that of the sun. The young baby was very much  snuggled in great comfort. 

“My lord, my lady, it is time” tsu’tey, their closest friend and top chief of the Omatikaya army, tells them. 

“Come on, we dont want to keep our people waiting” jake gently leads his wife towards the top balcony that oversees their people. 

“Yes my love, our people shall know of our sunny prince,” Neytiri says while she boops her baby’s nose. 

“Have you chosen a name for him?” tsu’tey asks as he follows closely behind. Neytiri chuckles as she shares a look with jake. 

“Spider, we chose to call our son, spider” 

The people cheered and roared out in happiness once the royal couple had presented their son. Many were in awe at how such an adorable child could ever exist. Truly a gift blessed from their sun. 

Many threw flower petals, confetti, horns blowing out, little children waving their flags. The crowd was booming with noise. All eyes on the prince. Including one set of icey blue eyes. Glaring at the royal family. 

No one noticed him. All too busy celebrating. A tall menacing man with a dark cloak to hide his face. The man glared with hate. Just how dare they? 

How dare the king and queen lie to their people? How dare they lie that their ‘son’ was a gift from their light above? How dare they lie and say the boy belongs to them? Lies, all lies. 

But Quaritch knows the truth. That baby, the child the royal couple holds is his son. His blood! His ‘wife’ was a foolish woman. Giving away their child to the royals. She is at fault in this mess too! Too bad she is dead otherwise quaritch would have given her a piece of his mind. But it is not too late. Good thing he still remembers the ins and outs of the palace. After all, he used to be their top chief. The king’s once right hand man. Now replaced by that snarky brat. 

Quartich will have his revenge soon enough. He will have his son back one way or another. 

Night came, and silent as an owl, quaritch entered the royal bedroom without a squeak. Quietly and effortlessly he passed by the couple who were sleeping soundly. Beside them was the cradle where HIS son was sleeping. The cradle was elegantly crafted with golden trims and plush pillows. Only a few days old and he is being spoiled rotten. Cant have that. 

Grabbing his scissors, quaritch goes for the baby’s golden locks. His hair will be a dead give away if anyone finds him. However, just cutting a small strand, the piece of hair turned dark brown and the baby began to cry. 

There was no time. 

When Jake and Neytiri awoke to the cries of their child, they were too late. 

In their eyes, a dark hooded figure stood at the balcony with their baby in his arms. Before Jake can reach him, the hooded figure jumps off and into the dark forest. 

Neytiri cried, not believing what just happened. Jake was quick to call out the night guards. Alarms were sounded, tsu’tey was quick to gather his army to search for the thief who stole their sun.

18 years later 

“Get your ass over here!” Z-dog, a professional female thief, growls at the little brat who seems to be taking his sweet ass time. Opening the top trap door that led  straight down to the golden crown that was heavily guarded. Lyle, her partner in crime, was also getting impatient. 

“Just a sec….wow……this view is nice, very nice…..guys I want my own castle” a young boy spoke. Age 14 and already making a long list of crimes against the kingdom. This will be the biggest one yet. 

“When we do this job, you can have you own castle” lyle grits his teeth as he yanks lo’ak back to the missions. Tying the rope on his waist, they lower lo’ak down to the crown room. 

Quickly he shoves the gold crown into the satchel until one of the guards sneezes loudly. 

“Ugh, day fever?” lo’ak asks. 

“Yeah” the guard answers casually. Until he realized what just happened. Looking up, he and the other guards saw lo’ak being pulled back up and quickly make a run for it. 

“What a great day to be aliiiiiiiiiiiiive!!” lo’ak shouts as he, z-dog and lyle run across the bride that connects the forest and the kingdom. 

The three ran fast at top speed. They already knew the royal guards were on their way to hunt them down. Capital punishment awaits them. tulkun might get some leeway. He really only wanted adventure, but for sure he does not want to really suffer the consequences. 

As they ran for it, they halted to a dead end. Hearing the soldiers nearing, acting quick was needed. 

“Give me a boost and I will pull you both up,” Tulkun said in a hurry. 

Z-dog and lyle looked at each other and then at him. 

“Give us the satchel first” z-dog says as she reaches for it. 

Looking quite offended, Tulkun places a hand over his chest, “I cant….after all we have been together, you guys still dont trust me?” 

Dead looks was all he was given. 

“Ouch” 

He gives the satchel to z-dog and the three were quick to holl up lo’ak. Purposely stepping in z-dogs face as he reaches the top. 

“Now help us up, pretty boy” she demands while reaching her hand up. 

“Sorry, but my hands are full” tulkun smirks while holding the satchel and makes a run for it. 

“What the- TULKUUUUUUUUUUN!!”

That was close, way too close for tulkun’s liking. Tsu’tey was close to seeing his face. If he did then its game over. For now, he will have to lie low, no doubt his family will be worried to death about him. His parents are way too protective. They will be even more once he gets back. Not something he looks forward to. 

For now, he found a little cave that was actually a little entryway to a tower. How long was that there? 

Not giving much thought he was quick to climb the tower and shut the doors[?] windows. Finally being able to be at peace, he opens the satchel to see the golden crown. Sighing in relief. 

“Hello at last-” 

Darkness was all he saw. 

“Who are you and how did you find me?” 

Miles demanded to know from the young stranger. Tied to the chair, miles made sure his long dreads were enough to make sure the invader didn't escape. Who the hell was he to just climb into someone's tower unannounced? And talking to themselves? 

Father was right, there are crazy people out there. 

“Is this….all hair?” the stranger asked as he looked at his long dreads. 

“Hey! I asked you first! Answer!” miles shouts. Holding the pan tightly, he points it at the stranger. His little friend, payakan climbs on the pan, looking dead in the eyes of the stranger. 

“Is that a blue lizard…?” the stranger asks another question. Do all strangers keep on asking questions? 

“Hey! I get to ask questions here, not you! Got that?” Miles narrows his eyes trying to look as threatening as possible. The stranger rapidly shook his head agreeing. 

Miles starts to walk around the stranger while swinging his pan. 

“So stranger, have you come for my hair? Cut it? Sell it?” he begins to accuse. 

The stranger looks at him confused. 

“What? No! Look, I came here to hide because a horse is on my ass! And now I have to-wait wait! My satchel! Where is my satchel!?” 

Crossing his arms, confidently smiling, miles responds “I’ve hidden in, somewhere where you will never find it” 

The stranger looks to his left, “It's hidden in that pot, isn't it?” 

BANG! 

Tulkun woke up once again, this time feeling something wet in his ear. Turning he sees the weird blue lizard outstretching his long tongue in his ear. Feeling grossed out, he shouts, “STOP THAT!!” startling the lizard. 

“Now I’ve hidden it somewhere you’ll never find it” the weird boy says. 

“Now back to the main question, how did you find me?” the boy asks again. 

“Look, in all honesty, I was running through the forest ok? I have an army at my ass and a horse! Just give me the crown back and I will leave. Alright?” tulkun replies honestly. 

The weird boy, or guy since he looks older, stares at him confusingly. 

“Wait, you don't want my hair?” he asks. 

“Why on earth would I want your hair? Actually, why do you even want your hair this long? Don't you have a knife or scissors in this place?” 

The weird guy didn't say anything. Walking away at some distance to talk to his blue lizard friend. Whispering some stuff he couldnt make out. However, using that time to try and free himself. No use, the guy tied him up pretty dang good. 

“Alright, it seems you are saying the truth. Now to important matters, look over here” the guy says as he shifts his hair for the chair to move, making him land on his face.

Lifting a curtain aside, the boy reveals a beautiful painting on top of an empty chimney. It showed a dark blue sky with lanterns floating up in the sky. 

“Do you know what these are?” the guy asks. 

“The lanterns? Yeah, they do that for the lost prince” tulkun says automatically. No real emotion behind it. Holding in his indifferent feelings for that specific day. His face is starting to hurt against the floor. Trying to push himself up, he couldn't hear what the guy said. Until suddenly he was being lifted up. 

“I have a deal I want to make,” the weird guy said. 

Take him to see the lanterns and in return he gets the crown back. No big deal. Seems simple enough. Except for one thing. 

“WOOOOHOOOOOOOO!! 

“What have I done?” 

“I LOVE THS!!” 

“What if he finds out??” 

“I DONT CARE!!” 

“I am horrible” 

“I FEEL GREAT!!” 

“I'm going back, i'm a horrible son” 

“I AM NEVER GOING BACK!!” 

Tulkun didn't think he would also be a babysitter. Damn, and he thought his sister was terrible with mood swings. This weird guy clearly is older than him yet acts just like his baby sister who is 3. 

After what felt like centuries, the weird guy calms down but not in high spirits. 

“It seems you seem to be in turmoil. Look, it does seem a lot. But from the bits I heard, it seems you got a protective father, leaving without telling, talking to a stranger whom you never met and now going somewhere that you need to rely on said stranger to get there. This is pretty serious stuff you know” 

The weird guy just stares at him. 

“Part of life you know. Kinda late but it seems you are going through what I like to call “fuck the rules” phase. Personally I hope it's not a phase. Normal stuff” tulkun continues to say while simultaneously shoving the blue lizard off his shoulder. 

“Really…?” the guy asks. 

“Yup, but this might make your dad upset. Hell, break his heart and crush his soul even. But its fine” 

“Wait, you are gaslighting me aren't you” the weird guy was picking up on what tulkun was trying to do. 

“I tried” tulkun answered honestly. 

“No, we are going to see those lights,” the weird guy says, standing up for himself. 

“Oh yeah? What I don't want anymore?” tulkun mocks him. 

“I will use this” the pan was pointing at him again. 

“Ugh, fine” 

“Miles” 

“Hm?” 

“My name is miles. I forgot to tell you my name earlier” miles says. 

“Oh nice….” 

“What is your name?” miles asks. 

“......its tulkun” 

Miles heard that slight hesitation. Perhaps its not his real name. 

“Cool, this is payakan. My one and only friend” 

Payakan stands on miles’s left shoulder, glaring at tulkun. 

“He really doesnt like me, does he?” tulkun eyes at the reptile. 

“Eh, he will warm up to you. Now, what was that place called again?” miles claps his hands, getting a little hungry. 

“It's called recom port. Best steaks and cold drinks. Hits the spot all the time. And the folks there are super friendly” tulkun says. Smirking inwardly. Surly that place will scare miles back to his little tower. 

Wherever miles goes, tulkun can't help but notice how it was so easy to bring in people. The recom outcasts were super friendly towards him! And they hated tulkun! The hell?! Even worse, miles managed to have them all sing for hours non-stop. Tulkun is just so done. He wants the crown and go back home. Screw with whatever punishment his dad will give him. He can take it. 

Even worse since miles somehow tamed that demon of a horse. 

“Awe, such a good girl aren't you….zeze!” miles coos at the light blue horse. Reading the collar the fowl beast has. 

Zeze was wagging her tail like some dog. Ready to comply with whatever miles tells her. 

“You cant be serious, that thing is capable of murder!!” tulkun tries to reason with miles. 

“Did she kill?” 

“Umm…no but I wouldn't doubt it!

Miles rolls his eyes and continues to pet zeze. 

“Look, we are tired from walking and zeze seems to have a lot of energy. Why not ride her the rest of the way? It's a win-win. What do you think, big girl? Want to blow off some steam?” Miles suggests to the hell beast who neighs in agreement. 

“Oh you have got to be kidding me” tulkun rolls his eyes. He would rather walk on hot rocks than deal with her. 

“Come on, it will be easier. Look, I can tell you both dont get along but please just until we get to the lights? Please?” miles pleads. 

Zeze seems to side with him, offering her hoof, she and tulkun shake in agreement. 

“Wonderful! Now lets get on!” miles says happily as he climbs on zeze. Payakan sitting on zeze’s head getting a good view and tulkun sits behind miles. 

“Have you ever rode on a horse before?” tulkun asks. 

“Nope, first time! HIYAH!” 

Zeze takes off, letting the winds hit their faces and excitement filling their lungs. 

It was amazing! Miles has never seen this many people before! And they all live together in smaller yet wider towers? So cool! And the food! So delicious! More books to read, new music to listen to. It was so perfect. 

A kind lady even gifted him a small flat with a sun design and a flower. He admires the pretty flower until he sees other people laying their flowers in front of an interesting mural.

“It's for the lost prince” a child says to their baby sibling. 

Lost prince? 

Miles takes a good look at the mural. There stood two proud looking people. A man and a woman, wearing fancy looking clothing. In the woman's arms was a baby. A child who is smiling and have lovely golden hair and blue eyes. 

“Poor baby…” miles mutters. He places his flower on the base of the mural. Whoever the baby is, hopefully he comes back to his family soon.

Night came and tulkun managed to get a small boat for them to the surrounding moat. The lanturn festival was about to begin. Tulkun look to see miles not smiling anymore. 

“Hey, you ok..? Feeling excited?” he asks. 

“Feeling kind of terrified actually…” miles confesses. 

Tulkun tilts his head, “how come?” 

“All my life, for as long as I can remember I look at my window and see beautiful stars in the sky. Always wondering what they were. And here I am, about to see the truth….I'm scared to be disappointed” 

Tulkun, understanding his new friend, places an arm over his shoulder. 

“Nothing wrong with being disappointed. In the end, you will get to see what is more than the stars as you call them” 

Miles smiles a bit, “and what if they are? What then?” 

“That is the fun part I guess. It opens a path for a new journey” 

Neytiri straights jake’s outcoat, making him presentable. Her eyes meet his. Sadness and sorrow are all there is. No words are needed to be said. She knows. What is supposed to be a joyous day has now become a sad tradition for all. 

They meet their children on the balcony, all holding their own lanterns. Yet, neytiri and jake notice their third son is missing. It was just putting more salt on the wound. 

Taking the lead, they light up their lantern and together they let it go. The royal children followed. Moments after, all of the kingdom let go of their lanterns. The darkened sky now filled with lanterns, all goes at their own pace. 

Neytiri and jake hold each other close while holding their children. Their hopes depleting each year. The hope that one day, their first child would return home. That hopefully their son would find these lanterns and use them as a guide back to them. 

But its been 18 years. A grown adult by now. 

They make sure their children know of their big brother, and how he would have loved each and everyone of them. Their children never doubted that. 

“He will come home this time, right mama….?” The first princess asks her mother as she stares at the lanterns. Every year she asks the same question. Every year, neytiri answers the same thing. 

“He must” 

Miles was in awe. The lanterns were so beautiful! Each one was different yet all burned brightly. 

“I finally know the truth…” he says. 

Tulkun hears this……

“Lo’ak” he speaks. 

“Hm?” 

“My real name is Lo’ak, tulkun was just a disguise name…” lo’ak admits. 

“Why?” miles asks, curious to know. 

“My family….well my parents to be precise. Are very protective. Like super protective. Cant go anywhere without someone spying on me or my siblings…” lo’ak says with what sounds like defeat in his voice. 

“You see….I have an older brother and two younger sisters. My parents however, had a son before my big brother neteyam. Spider was his name. My parents said he was only 3 months old before a dark cloaked guy took him away. They never knew who he was or why the stranger took him. That night traumatized them for life. Dont get me wrong, it is sad. He would have been 4 or 5 years old by the time I was born. Its just….” lo’ak couldn't continue. 

“So that is why you are rebellious…wanting to get out of their tight hold. Needing to breathe and just take risks for the fun of it” miles finishes for him. 

Lo’ak looks at miles’s long hair. 

“Yeah…but what about you? You never told me why you lived in that tall, isolated tower” lo’ak asks, wanting to change the subject. 

“My dad….he too is overprotective. Growing up, he tells me all of the dangerous things that happen outside of the tower. Baby stealing ghouls, men with sharp teeth, diseases, blood sucking monsters. I was terrified. But in reality…he kept me there because of my hair…” 

Miles moves his dreads to the side to reveal a short dark strand of hair. 

“My hair….is what is keeping me alive. If cut, it affects my health. He doesn't know why, niether do I but…something like that, it has to be protected” 

“So….you never left that tower?” lo’ak was astounded. Miles, a grown adult at this point, has never seen what life has to offer? 

Miles nodded. 

“And you still want to go back…?” 

Miles looked to be contemplating on that question. But before could be said, near the dock was two unpleasantly familiar people.

“There, it will be just like it never happened” his dad says. 

Miles was back at the tower. Any traces of him being outside was gone. Lo’ak left him and took the crown. Leaving him vulnerable to two dangerous strangers who wanted to cut his hair for higher value. If it wasn't for his dad finding him, who knows what could have happened. 

“Hey, I will make that coup you like so much, that will lift your spirits up” his dad was exiting his room. 

“Look son, I know it seems unfair but you have to understand. Not everything is bright and good. Terrible people who sees any trace of goodness, they will destroy it no matter what” with that, he goes downstairs. 

Leaving miles alone. He stares at the paintings he has done on the ceiling. Why do they look familiar? 

Pulling out the little flag he still kept, he compares the sun to the familiar shapes. 

“What the…?” why do his painting have the sun symbol? 

Suddenly, he got a massive headache. 

Memories of a past he didn't know he had came flooding in. 

“WAIT WAIT DAD!! YOU DONT GET IT!!” lo’ak shouts as he tries to fight back his uncle figure tsu’tey. The other night he was knocked out by z-dog and lyle, tying him on a canoe with the crown. Now being punished, he was to be sent to a neighboring kingdom as a form of punishment for stealing a royal crown.

Jake, having had enough of his son's lies, false promises, and fake sympathy, didnt want to hear him anymore.

“Hopefully this will teach you a lesson son. You knew how important that crown was. Stealing was the last straw "Jake says. His family beside him, none wanting lo’ak to go but it was necessary.

“NO!! YOU DONT GET IT!! THEY TOLD ME!! HE IS ALIVE!! DAMN IT!! IM SORRY UNCLE!!” with a quick hit with his head, lo’ak managed to free himself from tsu’tey. Acting fast he made a run for it.

“ZEZE!!” he calls out. The majestic yet beastly horse answers his call, he climbed onto her.

Tsu’tey calls his soldiers to follow lo’ak, his family yelling to come back. “HE IS ALIVE!! SPIDER IS ALIVE!!” was all lo’ak said before zeze ran faster, heading straight to the forest. This whole time, this whole time! His big brother is alive!! He has a lot to make up for right now, lo’ak needs to get him out of the tower and away from the stranger miles calls ‘father’.

There was so much blood. Miles didnt know how to heal him. He wanted to save lo’ak, save him, tell him of his newfound revelation! Yet his dad has him tied to chains like some feral animal. 

“That is enough! You are going somewhere far more hidden! Somewhere where you won't even see the sunlight!” his father says. Miles can hardly recognize him anymore. All he sees is a scary, tall man who sees miles as some golden item rather than a human being. 

Yet miles fought back, as best as he could. Lo’ak is dying,he needs to do something! 

“Let me heal him please!” miles begs. Tears ran down his face. 

“Let me heal him, and you and I will be together. Just like we always have. Please dad, let me save him” 

His dad saw lo’ak laying still, thinking he won't last long. He ties a chain to his ankle, just incase the brat gets any ideas of following them. Miles was quick, panicking but doing his best to close the wound. 

“Miles…” lo’ak whispers weakly, “dont…I can let you…” he tries his hardest to say, 

“I cant let you die…” miles whispers, more tears falling out. 

Lo’ak gets closer as if to tell miles something, however, in a surprise move, he cuts miles hair. 

“Lo’ak!! What did you…!!” his was was quick to turn a dark brown, his dreads also losing their golden color. 

“NO!!! WHAT DID YOU DO?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!?” the mad man shrieks. In a hurry he tries to collect the hair, not carrying where he is stepping. He tangles himself in the dreads, unknowingly wrapping himself. In a daze he trips. 

Over the tower’s window. 

Falling to his death. His screams are now silent. 

Miles couldn't comprehend what just happened. Yet he had to focus on lo’ak. 

“Im sorry….brother….” lo’aks arms went limp, his eyes closed. 

“No no no!! Stay with me lo’ak! Please!!” miles cries out loud. Now he truly is alone. No friend, no father, no one. Just himself. He lets his tears fall on lo’aks wound. 

“Please save him…!! I beg you!! Save him!!” miles didnt know to who he was calling to. To himself? To some holy being? Perhaps he was already losing his mind now that he lost his golden hair. Or perhaps, not all is lost…

Bright light flooded the tower from the outside. Its light radiating warmth, reminds miles that of the lanterns. Bright yet gentle. It was like being swaddled in a blanket. The light surrounded him and lo’ak. His hair, although now messy, its golden color returned. The light touches lo’ak’s wound, sealing it, healing him. 

Just as it has appeared, the light has dispersed. As if it never did. 

Holding in his breathe, miles looks over at lo’ak, hoping to see something. 

A cough was heard, more coughs, and a scruff. 

“Oh fuck…did I hit something?” Lo’ak asks as he sits up. 

Miles shouts in happiness. Hugging lo’ak tightly, he says his thanks to the mysterious light that saved his friend. His brother. 

Quickly, neytiri and jake along with their children make haste to the balcony where tsu’tey said was where he was waiting. 

They all hold hands tightly, reassuring one another that this is real, its not a dream. 

Opening the doors, they see lo’ak. Beside him was someone jake and neytiri thought they would never see. 

A young, tall man with short yet very familiar golden hair stood before them. Wide, sparkly blue eyes that can rival the sky. His familiar smile, his aura radiant of warm happiness. This is him. 

“Spider…” neytiri whispers, getting closer to him. Touching his cheeks, his hands, his ears, hair, everything. 

“It is you…my spider, my son” she confirms. A mother could never mistake her child. 

Hugging him close, she cries out in joy. Jake followed soon after her. Holding his son after so many years. Kissing his head, hearing his heartbeat. Their son has returned. 

“You did find him…” jake says to lo’ak. 

Lo’ak smiles, joining in the hug, not saying much as to let his parents have this moment. 

“Come come my children, meet your big brother! He is home!” neytiri gestures her three other children, neteyam, kiri and tuk. The three join in one massive group hug. 

This is what miles, or now, spider, wanted. To feel truly loved. This is his family, may take some time getting used to, but spider truly felt at home with them. For they are warm and radiant, like that of the sun. 

Aaaaaaaaaand that is it for this one! Hope you all liked it! Until next time! See ya!

[billkaulitzwife]

The Outsiders Relationship Needs

Ponyboy / Physical and Verbal Romance / Physical Touch

Pony is definitely a man of praise

Darry putting all the pressure on him to get good grades

he def needs a few hugs and assurance.

No emotional because all that shi doesnt happen in my dr so shut up.

He loves hugs and kisses

snuggles

nose boops

head butts

anything.

He loves being touched in someway.

Like laying together listening to Elvis and The Beatles

he loves hearing your heart beat when he's laying on you.

He loves holding hands and running in fields together.

Pony is such a stinker tho

"Give me your hand, Y/N."

"Not right now, hun. They're sweaty."

-grabs your hand while you're distracted-

Pony seriously is the type of guy to like ...

idk how to describe it, but

if you told him "I love you so much."

and played with his hair

he would melt.

Johnny / Emotional & Verbal Romance / Words of Affirmation

"Ah man, I'm doin' horrible."

"No, Johnnycakes, you're doin' amazin'."

He would start crying.

If you wiped Johnny's tears and comforted him he would be a popsicle on july 4th.

Johnny is definitely the guy to ask someone why they're cryin and they wldnt answer and he'd be reminded of his childhood and immediately go to you.

"Johnny, baby, what's wrong?"

and he would just cry.

The moment he noticed you were fine with him crying and gettin upset at random times was the moment he started falling.

He's a sweet boy, but had too much put on him.

Johnny once told you (when he was black out tired) that he wanted kids so he could give them the childhood he never had.

He still smells like orange peels.

If you play with Johnny's hair while holding him close, he would calm down and melt in your arms.

If you washed his hair for him and told him he was so brave for trusting you, he'd smile wide and his face would slowly light up.

Let him vent to you and Dallas and Addie will immediately trust you.

"Hey, Dally, look at them."

"Huh? Oh. Yeah they ain't hurtin' him."

play Beautiful Boy and he will start crying.

Dally / Emotional, Verbal, and Sexual Romance / Words of Affirmation

Dallas is the kinda guy to go to you for some random reason.

Holding out his St. Christopher: "Hey, doll, look. I fixed it."

"Oh, good job, Dal!"

His expression would soften and he'd immediately pick you up in a hug.

Let him talk to you about New York or his father and let him cry into you.

From that moment on

he is all yours.

He once cried into Sodapop one night

all because he was under too much pressure,

and nobody ever said anything about it.

No one talks about anyone's problems to anyone, especially Dally's or Johnny's.

Dallas would sexualise himself to let out all that grief from childhood.

And the moment you told him

he doesn't need to be sexual to be respected or to be validated

was the moment he handed over his St. Christopher.

He feels he has to sexualise himself

just because he needs that validation.

But he soon figured out it comes in different forms.

"Dallas Tucker. You are so brave and you deserve to be loved, not whatever it is you're doing."

"...what are you doin' to me, man.."

as a single tear runs down his cheek

Sodapop / Physical Romance / Gifts and Quality Time

"Y/N, can we cuddle and watch a movie?"

"Of course! But first I got you something!"

He perks up like a puppy and his eyes always go wide in realisation.

Sodapop loves presents

when Christmas comes along, there is always presents for everyone that say

"to: johnny/darry; From Soda!!", "to: addie and dallas; From poppy<3", "too: steve /two-bit; frum: papi soda", "to: ponyboy michael curtis; from addie and sodapop<3"

always.

from.

soda.

he buys you the cutest things like

bouquets and stuffed animals

but he once bought ponyboy a stick of butter cuz he got his hand stuck in a jar once.

he loves holidays spent with the gang.

christmas huddled at the curtis's, halloween trick-or-treating, valentine's day with stevie, easter egg hunts (when yall were tiny), etc.

He'd so cry when you had to work and he wanted to hang out.

Sodapop loved spending time with addie and pony when they were little, but they grew up too fast, so he spends time with you because you're what he loves most

THIRD NEXT TO STEVE.

Two-Bit / Sexual & Emotional Romance / Acts of Service

Keith doesn't understand the value he has in the group.

Nobody would laugh without him,

nobody would go to the movies without him, etc.

He doesn't understand self-worth so he finds that in sex.

i mean its his third year as a junior.

he once asked addie why she was so down one day

and she just cried.

they both just sat and talked like brother and sister

(cuz the curtis boys forgot she wasnt in the car to go to the movies).

He loves it when people take his feelings into consideration.

Like when he sees "to 2bit frum sodopap"

(sodas handwriting is shit)

he loves it.

Feeling valued and like he matters

makes him happy.

Two-Bit is probably the most puppiest of them all.

Like

once you have him in your grasp

tell eachother about your emotions

and your past...

AND HE IS

ON HIS DEATHBED

(no offense johnny)

ask for his jacket once in awhile and he'll hand it over, he loves being kind

sometimes he'll give change to homeless people on the street just because he feels like it.

he once gave you his whole wallet to prove his love for you.

Steve / Verbal Romance / Words of Affirmation and Quality Time

"Stevie, you know you're so much more than your weight or your muscles."

and hes over here snot crying in fetal position.

hes head over heels for you and if you watch a movie with him and tell him hes so pretty or sum

he'll give you the moon.

Soda rn: damn. someone took my bitch.

Steve is the typa guy to want to spend time with you but not want to ask to or sum

THEN HE GETS PISSED???

LIKE... YOU DIDNT ASK YOU SHLDNT BE UPSET

But you comfort him anyways and push him out of that

He's such a sucker for you

like kiss him after the rumble

and tell him he looks tuff with his tooth missing

Darry / Physical Romance / Words of Affirmation

Cuddles.

Darrell loves cuddles.

Lay on his chest and tell him he's pretty

please he'll do anything.

Darry is def a guy to like

get down in the dumps

but

when you come along

"Hey Handsome"

HE WILL SMILEEEE

just ask him abt his day

let him cry in your arms.

hed be so in love that when he proposes

its a candlelit area at the park

and there are roses lined up like a heart.

Addie / Emotional and Physical Romance / Words of Affirmation and Gifts

If anything happened to her you gotta tell her its not her fault.

Tell her that and she will cry even harder but in a good way.

She loves gifts.

Sodapop spoils her on her birthday every single year

means you gotta Step up yo game bitch.

Listen to her

get her something shes mentioned she wanted and she is

AHAHAHA GET TEARS FOR FEARSED.

but addie isnt much of a Touch Person.

she doesnt care for hugs unless she needs one shes ok with kisses and hates holding hands or being touched on her waist and neck.

but if you wanna show affection

ask bout her day and what not

shes a lot like darry mixed with soda.

ik what I said last night so this is my last post for awhile. ich liebe dich Leute.

[anamericangirl]

I run a fandom blog, but I’ve followed you and constitutionisgayculture for quite a bit. I’m sure you see me in your notifs a lot, I think we even booped each other a bit on April fools!

Anyway, it’s just nice when your posts (or other conservative Christians that I do or don’t follow) come up on my dash. Fandom has its… problems, as I’m sure you’re aware of. Sexually rampant people who think drag shows for kids are OK. Believe all Jews should die. Mock Christianity. The whole nine yards. But much as it dreads my flesh, those people are just as sinful and just as deserving of God’s grace as we are

And despite some of those people being my friends, it is hard sometimes to be bombarded by that frequently. Thank you guys for your courage to speak out and up about things, and also just being fed up with the way the world is nowadays.

God bless! <3

Aw, thanks! I'm sure we probably did boop each other because I was booping everyone lol.

Yeah dude fandoms can be quite toxic, especially on this hellsite. Honestly I admire you and anyone else who goes against the narrative that is able to put up with it still. I couldn't do it and I know because that's why I started this blog lol. I didn't always blog about politics (not that I was ever really in any sort of fandom) and social issues and I wasn't following politics on Tumblr but you still get bombarded with really terrible and disgusting posts echoing everything you mentioned and you feel like you're the only one with any sense and I just couldn't take it anymore so I deleted them and made this one just to start going off on all the crazy I'd seen.

And there are great people in those spaces and it sometimes makes it worth sticking it out.

So I definitely sympathize with what you're experiencing and glad if anything I post ever helps you get a break from the crazy :)

[wheels-of-despair]

Cross My Heart Pairing: Michael (Hoard) x You Summary: You storm off during a fight, and Michael has a meltdown. Contains: The tail-end of a fight, tears, fears, abandonment issues, our boy getting the love and comfort he deserves. Words: 800ish

"I can't fucking do this," you groan, throwing up your hands in exasperation and spinning on your heel. You stomp through the living room, snatch your keys, and reach for the doorknob.

The object of your aggravation launches itself between you and the door, moving so quickly it barely registers as a body and not a blur. Arms circle your waist, squeezing like tentacles and holding you in place. You look down in surprise to see the top of Michael's head, shaking and leaking tears through the front of your shirt.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he sobs into your stomach.

How are you supposed to react to this?

"I'm sorry," he cries again, arms tightening and holding on to you desperately. It's getting uncomfortable. Almost difficult to breathe. "Please, I'll do anything, please don't leave me," he begs.

Your heart sinks, slowly at first, and then plummets when you realize why one sentence made Michael go from stubborn ass to sobbing mess. He thinks you're leaving him. Really leaving him.

Your hands gravitate toward his hair. He's sobbed so hard, he's worked up a sweat. His tears have completely soaked through your shirt. You slide your fingers through his damp curls and cradle his head, holding him closer to you. Breathing is overrated anyway.

"Baby?" you ask softly.

"Yeah?" he whimpers.

"I was just going to take a walk."

He looks up at you with bloodshot eyes and tears still pouring down his red cheeks. You hold his heated face in your hands and wipe his tears away with your thumbs, but they don't stop coming.

"Really?" His voice cracks, and so does your heart.

"Really," you smile, trying in vain to wipe away a new stream of tears with your still-wet fingers.

His face crumples, and he hides it in your shirt again. You place one hand in his hair and the other on his neck and hold him close while he lets out the rest of the emotions that have been bubbling beneath the surface all night.

When Michael's sobs finally subside, you loosen his arms so you can join him on the floor. You lean your back against the door and open your arms to him. He crawls to you, settling his exhausted body between your legs and resting his ear just above your heart. You wrap your arms around him and pull him closer, pressing your cheek into his hair.

"I love you," you tell him gently, afraid you might set him off again. He sniffles. Another tear saturates your shirt. You hold him tighter. "I just need a few minutes to myself sometimes. I would've come back."

"Everyone leaves me," he croaks.

"I'm not like everyone else," you whisper, feeling a tear of your own streak down your cheek. "And I'm not leaving you."

"Because it's your house, so you'd make me leave?"

You bark out a surprised laugh. He flinches. You apologize with a kiss to his forehead.

"I mean, that's a fair point," you chuckle lightly, drying your tears with the back of your hand. "But you're mine, Michael. You are an absolute pain in my ass, but I love you more than anything. I'm not going anywhere, baby. Not without you. Not now, not ever."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart," you whisper, drawing a cross on your chest and booping his nearby nose with your finger. You can feel him smile against you, and can't help but smile yourself.

You hold him close and rub up and down his back until you feel him let go of his fear and melt into you. If you don't get him up soon, he's going to fall asleep right here in the floor, and you'll both be sorry in the morning.

"Are we done fighting now?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

He nods, not lifting his head from your chest.

"Wanna take me to bed and show me how much you love me?"

He nods again, then peels himself off of you; literally, as his tears have glued his face to to your shirt. He stands and offers you his hands, which you take, and let him haul you off the floor.

Before he can lead the way to the bedroom, you pull him in for a hug. He holds you back, nearly as tightly as he'd held onto your middle when he'd first fallen to his knees between you and the door.

"I love you," you mumble into his neck.

"I love you more," he says with a squeeze, making no move to let go. It's alright. You'll stand here and hold him forever if he needs you to.

[nowiamcoveredinyou]

Our own fairytale

Sherlock x reader

Word count:- 5519

A/n:- the most stupid idea perhaps with which I came up! Still if you enjoy it, lemme know!

The room lit up with the sunlight that came straight through the window. A Sunday that was as bright as it should when we think of the day. Yet Sherlock and John had to go out on a case. However they've promised to be back home before lunch.

"And then? What happened to the beast?" Asked Rosie, who laid her head on my lap as we sat in my bedroom... Well Sherlock and my bedroom. If the boys are out writing new pages of their adventures why not we enjoy some fairy tales too.

"Well, he turned into Handsome prince which he was before the enchantress came" I answered lightly booping the nose of Rosie, making her giggle.

"And belle and beast" she said getting up, "lived happily ever after."

"Well" I objected, "belle and the prince".

She nodded like she understood. She's a very feisty little girl, then she said,

"So beast... I mean the prince gave belle his library?" She was fascinated by the idea of having a personal library.

"Yes he did." I answered.

"Like Sherlock gives you books?" She asked and leaned on me.

"Mm hm yes absolutely" I answered remembering the moments of him buying me books. He always observes and notices the books on my online shopping app's wishlist. And surprises me as he buys one at a time for me.

"When will he come? And daddy?" She asked.

"Before lunch" I replied and Rosie got on the floor, humming and roaming around.

"Beast... I meant the prince .. he was so cruel to everyone no?" She enquired.

"Well it's because he didn't see anything good in him. He pushed everyone away because he thought he is not good enough, he ... " While saying I remembered how Sherlock pushed his friends away too. John told me once, he never thought he deserves anything good, he pushed everyone away who wanted nothing but to be with him, help him see good in himself. John, Molly, lestrade, Mrs Hudson... All of these friends of him still stayed because they knew, deep down Sherlock cares for them. It's just... He fights with criminals and they brings out the worst in him, he just wanted to protect his friends from all those cruel and evil men and women whom he encountered..

"He?" Rosie's voice popped my thought bubble.

"Y-yes?" I replied, I was obviously absent minded, and lost in all those thoughts, "where was I?"

"About the beast" Rosie reminded.

"The prince and yes... He just found the warmth and kindness in Belle, which was long worn out from his life, belle taught him to find joy in simple things" I answered and that again reminded me how Sherlock and I found tranquility in small things too. Like sitting together, walking hand in hand and how he told me "the way you giggle at the most simplest things is fascinating". He said he likes to see the world with my eyes, it's brighter that way. He said "you're my sunshine, you brightened my dark days". Maybe yes, for he loves when I speak of things I adore with passion. He loves to listen to me, even if I'm just describing a poem I read recently. He, the loner that he is, even loves my family, he says they always makes him feel included.

"This prince and Belle's story is" said our little Rosie, "seems familiar".

I got up and went closer to her, and we both went to the living room, "why's that?"

"Well.. you read books, and you're also very warm" saying so she hugged me, and she is the sweetest.

"Aww my darling thanks" I was about to hug her back but my phone rang. I took my phone to see the call I was expecting, right before lunch,

"Yes?" I answered to my husband.

"We've come" he replied from the other end.

"Okay " saying so I hung up smiling and went to the window, there came the two men talking and discussing about their case. Lestrade gave them a lift in his car and dropped them home. Rosie stood beside me too, she giggled suddenly, and that indicated she has something to say, either clever or funny,

"There comes our prince to her Belle."

I blushed at this, even Rosie called me Belle. Belle is my favourite princess of all time. And whenever someone compares me with her I feel delighted, especially when someone compares my relationship with the fairytale one.

"Yeah there he comes, with his clogsworth and Lumiere" I said making Rosie laugh,

"Is Mrs Hudson our Mrs Potts?" She asked, exactly how I like it, making her obsessed with my favourite Disney film too.

"Could be, are you our chip?" I asked and that made her even happier, however before she could answer Sherlock and John came in arguing, as usually blaming lestrade for being stupid.

"Welcome" Rosie said and bowed to them in a princessly manner, they were stunned and confused. Only I knew I have put the seeds of Disney too deep in her brain. She's obsessed over beauty and the beast.

Sherlock and John stood confused, not knowing what to say to that. But her father obviously recalled she had homeworks and followed her asking her about her studies while Sherlock walked to me asking,

"What was that?"

"I don't know" I said smirking, "rude detective."

"Okay sweet princess" he said and was about to walk away but came back and took my chin between his fingers and whispered, "my Belle".

Then pulled me into a kiss. Just like the the fairytale one. After the kiss he handed me a paper bag and I know what's in it exactly,

"The secret garden, it's latest on my Amazon wishlist, Thank you" I thanked him taking the book out. Sniffing the pages.

"No problem" he said, he paused, I know why, admiring me while I admired the book, "I don't have a Library like prince Adam to give you.." he continued, "but...I'll make you a library, little by little, with all your favourite books."

[anavatazes]

Seems because life has been extra busy lately and it's taken a lot of my time away from these parts (I miss you all 😢) I may have missed the great boopening... seeing as I have no idea if there are rules, or what to do exactly, and frankly since I was I was child I never really cared 🤭, here we go...

A boop for all my followers. I love you all ❤️

A boop for @typewriter83 and @elliespuns for being the wonderful people on the planet and helping me feed my Joel addiction in all its forms 🥰❤️

A boop for @trulybetty and @rhoorl as some of the first people I met in the PPCU fandom that are absolute sweethearts and incredible authors 🥰❤️

A boop for @punkshort for the most incredible work she does as a writer. Seriously. Go read her stuff! Especially if you love one Joel Miller 😏. You will not be disappointed.

@justagalwhowrites, @avastrasposts, @frannyzooey and @joelsgreys deserve some boops for the incredible stories they write and help keep me sane while driving me insane (in some cases 🤣).

And the biggest, most loving boop goes to @morallyinept for all of the hard work and love Jett puts out into the world❤️❤️❤️❤️. She does so much for everyone in the fandom and asks for very little in return. We love and appreciate you, Jett 🥰🥰🥰!!!

To everyone else who may be reading this and not mentioned, you've been booped 🤭.

Love you all and I love boops. The kids and grands are always doing it, and Mara and the cats are always being booped. We have one cat that rolls her eyes at them 🤣.

Ok, back to the grind. If I want to be off this weekend for the Convention, I need to get back to filing and helping clients. Love you all 🥰❤️

[kinglazrus]

Beep boop hello to you! Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💚

I adore whoever made this ask game. Thank you for sending me one, Lexx! This was so hard to choose, so these aren't in any particular order.

The Moment It Breaks

Description: After months of lies and secrets, it finally happens. His identity is revealed in the worst of ways—in the middle of a ghost fight. Now everyone knows that Tucker Foley is the Tech Hunter

Reason: I made this AU for the Danny Phantom au zine, Reality Trip, and I have had so much fun playing with it. It started as a throwaway wondering "what if Vlad approached Tucker instead of Valerie?" and grew into something huge. I've always adored no one knows aus, and this one takes it a step further. I'll be posting the fic to Ao3 soon, and I've got big plans for the rest of this AU.

The Haunting of Danny Fenton

Description: Valerie knows Danny Fenton, everybody does. Youngest of the family, son and heir, future owner of Fenton Works. Notable for all those reasons and infamous for none of them. Where Maddie and Jack are the local quirks, Danny is the tragedy. And, for the next week, he's the Red Huntress' newest client.

Reason: I adore writing Valerie's point of view. She's my favourite character, so it's a bit criminal that I don't have more fics focused on her. I've also used some different narrative techniques in this fic playing with perspective, which has been a lot of fun.

The Punishment Fits the Crime

Description: Ghosts are naturally drawn to death. Danny, however, finds himself drawn to those who have wrongfully died. He always said he would never hurt someone who doesn't deserve it. It's not his fault that he keeps finding people who do. Or: Danny is a vengeful spirit.

Reason: My darkest fic, tonally. I got the idea to turn Danny into a vengeful spirit and immediately decided to push it as far as I could. There's only a couple of chapters up right now, but the tags tell you all you need to know about the direction this fic is going.

The In-Laws

Description: Harriet and her son, Kwan, meet each other's boyfriends through a family dinner. Hopefully, Vlad Masters and Danny Fenton can get along for one meal.

Reason: Because it's fun! This is a very light-hearted, humorous fic, and I had a great time with it. I like to write all kinds of pairings, and this was a great way to explore two I hadn't yet: Vlad and Harriet, and Danny and Kwan. Bad News shippers come get your juice.

Blossoms On Her Tongue

Description: Years after Undergrowth’s attack, Sam’s ghost powers from that day are slowly returning. Sam is excited at first, both at the chance to grow closer with Danny, and the opportunity to use her own powers for good. But things aren’t as great as they seem. After all, plants don't mix well with the cold.

Reason: I can't actually say because that would be a spoiler! But there's a specific dynamic I wanted to explore for the trio and this fic was what came out of it. I've got three parts planned for this series, each one focused on a different member of the trio.

Honourable mentions that I almost picked for this:

The Survivalists (of course)

Prince Before King. Genius Before Fool.

Not Your Danny

Deep Wounds

Dead Man Walking

Until Death Do We Part

[deadandwalking]

headspace updates if anyone cares!

Angel:

Angel has been a bit less active lately, he’s finally taking a sort of break !! he is working on improving his relationship with Manasses and Brooks.

Brooks:

Brooks has started to become more confident working on his own and has also started trying different forms of stress relief to deal with the constant pressure he’s under.

Habit:

Habit is finally becoming more active again, he also had a front without Angel! that’s a really big step for him.

Manasses:

Manny has been working on redeeming himself for a previous situation and he’s doing very well! he’s also developed his own subspace consisting of some old members!

Lydia:

Lydia is as calm as ever, not much to report except her man has formed in the headspace now.

Jessica:

Jessie is Jessie. she’s slaying. she got a tattoo which i think is pretty cool and she’s finally established her look. it’s a bit fancy, but she deserves to feel fancy.

Victoria:

Vic has been making great progress in the headspace! she’s found a small social group and has even started to accept my boyfriend as part of the family. she still won’t ask Abbey out though.

Ivy:

Ivy is a mother now!!!!!

I:

This robot fuck is still here. it won’t choose a name. beep boop bestie.

Mewtwo:

Twoey has made little progress with his social status, i guess he’s happy with Chris. respectable.

Chris:

Chris had his first front! it was triggered by fear and anger, but he can front! he’s also started to be a bit more open about missing people from source.

Cassidy:

Cassy has done amazing with all the new littles. she struggled a bit at first, especially with Maya, but she’s taken them all in and has made sure they all adjusted well. she’s also getting good at taking a no.

Chi:

Chi has learned to recognise a few words! she can read mommy, daddy, Chi, fox and hello! we’re all very proud of her.

Octavian:

Octi has learned to say sorry for hitting people with his hammer, unless he thinks they deserved it.

Ajax:

Ajax has started socialising more with everyone and is getting really good at communicating when he’s scared instead of disappearing.

Elise:

Elise has started copying people’s swear words. she won’t stop.

Milo:

Milo had his first front! he’s also established a form of communication inside, he draws for us! he also makes pictures for the other littles. very sweet boy

Maya:

Maya has started teaching Elise to swim! she also stopped biting people and instead asks to show her cool teeth.

Danni:

Danni has become more prominent since her sister formed, and is now a caregiver for the littles. she also expressed a willingness to front, just not around anyone.

Meg:

Meg is Meg. she’s Megging. she brings joy.

Freddy:

Freddy has started to work off Manasses, and has helped me through the last few months which have been very bad at home.

Cabadath:

we don’t know if he’s still here. he formed, appeared like twice, and hasn’t been seen since. we feel him though.

Monika:

same as Cabadath

Brom:

Brom has started to become a guardian of sorts, he fronts alongside Manny, Vic, Freddy or Angel to help give me the ability to defend myself without giving in to others.

Gardener:

Scott sometimes hangs out with Chris and Twoey but otherwise is alone. he doesn’t do much.

Buddy:

Buddy is still struggling, he doesn’t like the other littles but he’s spoke to Habit a few times. he also stares a lot at Vic which we suspect is because of how similar the colour of her shirt is to Dave’s costume.

Esther:

Esther has become more tolerant of the littles. she’s also expressed that she misses Ciel.

Zarria:

Zarria has stopped fighting with Angel! she also started a sort of friendship with Nolan.

Mika:

Mika has not calmed down yet. the day may come yet. she’s very excited to meet our cat.

Clef:

Clef. this guy. he developed an fp, went insane for two weeks, drove me to self harm after i was doing really well at staying clean, but it worked out and now he gets to be friends with that fp. he still hangs around front all the time but we did get him to rest a bit. he started using our amulet to calm down and comfort himself.

Nolan:

Nolan has started looking after the younger headmates that aren’t quite littles (Angel, Habit, Zarria etc). he’s also with Lydia. happy for them!

Simon:

Simon looks after Chi almost full time now, and also has a really good friendship with Mika and Ivy! he also helped me beat Raihan in pokemon sword. love this guy.

[nitewrighter]

Awww that rammattra and bastion gif made me think about interactions where Rama speaks in beeps and boops to bastion as a kindness or ramattra really really respects bastion but whyyyyy are you with that filthy human come be my best friend I will keep you repaired and away from battle like you deserve old soldier you can even keep your little pet.

I'd be really interested in hearing more omnic characters actually beep at Bastion. Ironically in-game, the only other robot who beeps at Bastion is Echo!! Bastion makes sad beeping noises, Echo makes some reassuring beeping noises, then Bastion makes some thankful beeps and Echo says "Anytime :)"

It kind of makes me sad finding out that Null Sector is almost entirely drones, because that means the cool scary feedback noises they were making between each other in Uprising weren't Omnicode? But also there was clearly omnicode graffiti all around so.. ???? I mean we know from Ram's short story that the London Uprising was the incident that basically forced him to go All-Drones. Bastion's beeping also seems to be a language all its own that pretty much everyone understands but... isn't omnicode? I wish we could actually hear omnicode in-game.

[i-make-fun-of-spn-characters]

hope this is ok to ask but if you’re willing to spill would you mind talking about some of your spn fic opinions 👀👀

DISCLAIMER: Everyone who writes fic is awesome for doing it and should do what they want and my opinion doesn't matter because who gives a fuck what I think??? Write what makes you happy!!! It doesn't matter!!! If someone doesn't like it they can read something else or write their own fic!!!! I will jump to the defense of an author whose work I don’t even like if they get a bitchy entitled comment from some jerkweed who thinks every fic should be written exactly how THEY want.

That said, in MY opinion *breathes*:

Need more of Cas being a bitch. Cas can be cool sometimes yes and sometimes he can be awkward yes but also he doesn't answer the phone, and when you call him out for ghosting you he just shrugs and says he was busy. He rolls his eyes because you're exasperating and your voice is grating. He ate his own siblings a few times and also said he wanted them all to die because they were so annoying about free will in season 6. Like yes he does little puppy dog eyes and says “sorry” but then he does that same shit again for the 12 billionth time to everyone around him. 

Need more of Dean being that guy. The "I was right about the thing and you didn't listen to me and it blew up in your face, idiot" guy. Like a lot of fics that are Dean centric seem to focus on Dean's self worth issues and his belief that no one loves him and he doesn't deserve happiness because he is a Loser and Stupid and a Weapon and is parentified which is a thing that Dean deals with feeling, but he is also THEEE most annoying hoe when he is right about something and he will NOT shut the fuck up about it. There is a lot of "Nobody will ever love me I am not smart like Sammy ;_;" and I would love to read more "I am literally the actual psychic in this family and I can sniff out how this stupid plan you came up with will fail with the accuracy of a bloodhound looking for a corpse that is just 2 feet away and I will tell you exactly how dumb you are then the universe will prove me right after you go behind my back and I WILL remind you about it at least 5 times." Yes Dean has self-worth issues but also yes Dean will endlessly shit on beings who could kill him in the blink of an eye and will tell everyone they are fucking stupid. 

Nobody can write Sam. Not you, not me, not his fans, not his haters. If, by some miracle, a person CAN write Sam accurately, then they write the best Sam ever written in the entire universe and there are galaxies exploding in your brain as you read his inner monologue... until you get to the part where Dean or Cas becomes relevant and then you immediately have to click out of the fic because this author put every single stat they have into Sam Understanding and apparently there’s are Cas Understander and Dean Understander penalties for doing that of like negative 5 trillion. Worst takes you have ever seen in your entire life. It is too painful to continue reading. Horrible crimes are being committed.

If Kevin appears in a Sam-centric fic there is a good chance the author is mean about him. 

Now that we can exclude things from search results on AO3, I need a tag called: #Everyone gets an A+ on their Mental Health Report Card after the decades of torture and/or lobotomies except Dean who is the Only Fucked Up One Because He Just Can't Manage Like Everyone Else Can And He Is Explicitly Treated As A Burden For Having Trauma Instead Of The Idea Of Him Being A Burden Being Subverted. 

Fics where Cas shows up in the fic to randomly bring dues ex machina from randomcountry and then disappear again as unobtrusively and robotically as possible "You're welcome my friends Sam and Dean Winchester beep boop" *flies away on wings ignoring canon wing loss timeline* are just????  

I notice many authors don’t care/remember when Cas does and doesn’t have certain powers in canon and he flies everywhere and it leaves me very disoriented. Like who even IS a Cas who never lost his wings? That is a different guy.

Every time someone writes "Dean finally pulls his head out of his ass" in the summary of their destiel fic a cute baby animal gets swallowed up by quicksand. 

Making Benny evil is a self-report that you don’t know how to write a friend or love interest for Dean that is better than him and that fact lives rent free in your head. 

[ginger-snaps014]

Just been thinking about all the Snow White/Rachel Zegler controversy, and I can’t help getting annoyed at all the pop feminism takes that seem to disregard the value and cultural impact of older female representation

1. Cultural Impact Remaining

This film came out in 1937. Nearly a century ago. Roosevelt was president. The new deal was being negotiated. Amelia Earhart disappeared. The Hindenburg went down. Ernest Hemingway was around. The Golden Gate Bridge opened. The Spanish Civil war was happening. Picasso was still alive and painting. The Great Depression is ongoing. Would War II just started in Europe with the Nazis invading Poland 3 months prior to Snow White’s release date. All these thing feel historical. Old. No longer directly related to our everyday lives. They are just history. Yet- Snow White is their contemporary. And it was so well done that it remains a current cultural touchstone in America and the majority of the western world (if not the entire world). Everyone can recognize Snow even if they never saw the movie. More kids recognize Snow White than the president.

2. Film Impact

Have you ever enjoyed a single animated film in your life. Thank Snow White. She is the first animated film in history. Snow was called Disney’s Folly while in production because no one thought a feature length animated movie could succeed. It was considered impossible. Disney and his team figured out how to create scenes that could be zoomed in on by separating different layers on individual glass plates that could be focused on or blurred by a downward pointed camera. This also made it possible to avoid redrawing a background for every image. They had to create new filming equipment for this to even occur. The film was a masterpiece in innovation. And that was just looking at the technical side.

3. Artistic Value

While the art cannot be separated from the technical aspects, it deserves its own bullet point. The character design was so well done that Snow is still singular and recognizable today. We can even see when just her silhouette is used for inspiration.

The art is so beautiful it still looks good today. Unlike other films which feel like they belong in a different era due to degrading. This 1930s classic still feels as it could have been during my childhood with the Disney renaissance movies. It hasn’t aged poorly like a lot of CGI films have. It’s art. Age means nothing.

Disney and his team created new artistic techniques. Analyzing how movement of clothing did not stop swaying when the character stopped. Creating the ball emotion practice where an artist had to give a ball a full span of emotions with no facial features. They changed the style of animation to be more realistic (at the time, the look was more similar to Betty boop).

Just watch the scene when the Dwarfs hold the candle while walking up the cottage stairs looking for the person who broke into their home. The way the shadows flicker and cling to every surface. As if alive. As if real. It is one of the most gorgeous pieces of 2d animation I have ever seen. And it was the first.

4. Bad Pop-Feminism Takes

Pop feminism became popular in the early 00’s and focused on bringing down cultural touchstones that failed to bring girlboss energy. While some of this analysis was helpful, most was rooted in snap judgement and internalized misogyny. Snow White is the story of a young heroine who is about to be considered a woman. She is a victim of physiological and emotional domestic abuse at the hands of her guardian. A guardian who is not only the most powerful person in th household, but the whole kingdom. A guardian who tries have the girl brutally killed. Snow is forced to leave the only home she knows, with no friends, food, water, shelter, etc. While on her own and lost, she finds a home. She finds a place that has a need to fill. And proves her value. Yes it’s a domestic role. But this character creates for herself a job, and earns shelter, food, water, and allies. Her value is so undeniable that Dwarfs take her in despite the most power person in the kingdom hunting her. A person so influential no one even has the ability to confront her so long as she is not in disguise (and likely do not have the bravery either). Yes Snow is beautiful, but that alone did not get her safety. She never lets what she suffered stop her from living with kindness. When this victim of abuse is targeted again, her allies come to her aid. So what if a domestic abuse victim needed outside help to win? Why is it wrong to ask for help? Shouldn’t we want people to be able to ask and receive help when needed - without being thought of as less? Also, why is domestic labor less valuable than swordplay? It’s a necessity in life. So long as media portrays multiple types of femininity (domestic and not), why should one be worth less other? Because it is not historically male? What crap. Domestic labor has value. And that value should be made clear when both men and women perform it. The non-consensual kiss is a valid criticism. The rest seems like an excuse to hate recognizable aspects of femininity.

5. Personal

I will admit I am biased. This was the film I watched every time I visited my grandmother. It holds a special place in my heart. But I doubt I am the only one who has an emotional tie to the film. And love is always important

6. Timeless Tale

This story ahas been retold and updated many, many times. That would not happen if it had no value. To disregard Snow as a whole because you don’t connect to the 1930s version seems foolish and small minded. After all that is a mere retelling itself.