#and i feel like that song never aged in terms of sound
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bandzboy · 1 year ago
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fairy fm is such a cute idea !! let's talk about woodz, an amazing artist that deserves way more recognition</3 what's your favourite song of his, or favourite album ?
take care<3
oooo i am glad you asked abt woodz!! i did listen to his music the other day and i even posted about him and i did say that i don't listen to his music that often even tho he does really good music especially rock and since it's a genre so beloved to me i find it weird how i don't listen to him more often! my fav song of his atm might be waiting... which was a song i listened to it months ago and i got obsessed rather late but it was on repeat for so long and truly idk what it is to me that it makes so addicting it might be the vocal arrangement and harmonies that he does with the adlibs that makes it so cool to me because it's right at the beginning of the song and i was like.... wait a minute... it really makes you wanna stay and listen to the rest and also that bridge is crazy to me and how it builds up to the chorus it really tickles to right part of my brain in general the vibe is very good and i would honestly recommend it to anyone that is trying to get into his music and it's especially because it's a title track i feel like it's even better! as for favorite album... i haven't listened to every album of his (that's something i'm working on) but it's definitely oo-li i heard it for the first time days ago and i was very sucked in from start to finish and i thought it was a pretty consistent album in terms of sound! i especially liked who knows and ready to fight and they are both like a rock that is on the heavier side and so i loved it! i feel like both of these songs were pretty good in your face type of rock that i don't see many kpop artists too and that i love and so those are my faves but i love drowning a lot because it's a more emotional track but i feel like he did expressed the overall emotion of the song in his vocals and i think you can really get what the song is supposed to me from that alone which i really like! in the end there are different songs but i feel like the sound was very consistent throughout the whole album which made the experience enjoyable to me as a first time listener
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itspileofgoodthings · 5 months ago
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tags continued from prev post.
#and all of this is true while it is ALSO true that her songs age incredibly well#even debut or random soundtrack songs or endgame#whatever song people try to put on the worst Taylor songs list NEVER QUITE BELONGS#it doesn’t feel right. and to some extent occasionally in mercurial flashes I feel the same about her BEST songwriting list#I can never rank anything of hers ever because she can write better than she has written#if anything finds her own songwriting dead it’s what her future self will be able to achieve#and I think sometimes even the public can SENSE this about her and it’s part of why people are sooooo hard on her in a brutal way#and in a way they never are with other artists. who have reached the limits of their potential#Taylor has not reached the limits —that’s the simple way of saying it#in some way she is still figuring out the artist she is going to be#and I really do think that it is going to be absolutely astonishing#because in some ways (this is going to sound crazy) she is still distracted by her success and her tour#she’s NOT but I mean. the canon hasn’t been fully set free#there are still somehow things holding her back#and we’ve watched her outstrip so much of those early confines that fame and the business of the music industry strapped around her#we’ve seen her say ‘that doesn’t apply to me’#but actually she’s going to and she needs to and I believe she WILL continue to move into rarefied air#my mom helped me give me the final piece of this feeling (and it’s just a deep gut intuition/brain chemical thing for me)#when she said one day almost in mild exasperation: maybe one day Taylor will grow into a Dolly Parton#and something CLICKED#in my brain. and I don’t agree with my mom in terms of her non-interest in Taylor (as much as it has pained me to do so)#I think she’s worth loving and paying attention to now#but that gap that exists between people who love her and people who don’t (full time haters internet trolls do not interact)#I think it’s going to close with time as her work stretches out and out and grows and changes#like I think by the end of her career we are going to have something so astonishing#and to loop it back for a second to a previous thought. I think that’s why sometimes a taylor song can sound disjointed to me. because it#will hit the Depths of the Depth for a second. it will transcend and then it will go back to merely being an excellent pop song#those flashes are everywhere in her work but I think she is going to work and hone them into being conductors of light in a more steady way#the older she gets. does this sound INSANE. idk sometimes I think it does and then sometimes I think it DOESNt. so who knows. but yeah#it’s hard to say because I know it will read as more critical of Taylor than I mean it to be. when really I mean it with so much awe
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justmymindandstuff · 4 months ago
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melting Ice - Aemond Targaryen x Reader
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Summary: You are about to marry Aemond Targaryen. Your arrival at the Reed Keep is greeted with coldness and you have a hard time settling in and coming to terms with marrying into this strange family. But after a restless evening you can't take it anymore and go to talk to Aemond. This evening brings you and your betrothed a little closer as he lets you see behind his facade.
Words: 2.971
Warnings: angst?, arranged marriage, insecure Aemond
A/N: Frist time writing Aemond // English is not my first
language// no beta reader// Gif not mine // no use of Y/N// AO3
I hope you like this :)
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You crawl through your stuff. You've been back in Red Keep for a week, but your belongings are not all unpacked jet.
The hot summer air radiate through the stones of your new home and you whipe away a few drops of sweat from your brows. You miss the light briese that always go through your cambers in  Casterly Rock. The heat in Kings Landing is muggy and brings the stank from the city and not the fresh air of the sea. But you're gonna have to get used to it.
It's unlikely you'll ever see your home again. Not once you're married. This is the fate of thousands of Ladies in the seven Kingdomes . You all get shipped of to marry and never come back home.
For your betrothed you are a burden. You're back here for a week and maybe you exchanged two sentences with the prince. He was in no way rude, but neither was he really warm. You got the feeling it was more of a inconvenient for him than anything else. He doesn´t want to spend any minute with you. He ignored your invitations to go for a walk or for a afternoon tea.
You sigh. At least you won't marry a man who could be your father or grandfather. No, you're the future bride of Aemond Targaryen. Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. Maybe you have luck with your husbands age. And you will become a princess. That's the dream of thousands of young ladies, and you can live it. From the outside it sounds perfect. Like a song.
The reality is different.
In reality, you are a pawn in the game of power, securing the loyalty and armies of your family for the Targaryens.
This marriage is a reward for years of service from your family.
Instead he dumped you on his sister. Helaena, a sweet girl who is fixated on insects and with her thoughts everywhere except in the here and now. But she was the only one that makes you feel you are welcome here. She was the one who showed you around and invited you to tea, go on picnics, walk in the gardens or do handicrafts. She also introduced you to her twins. Sweet children that you can't keep apart yet.
The Queen only gave you a cold smile and explained her wedding preparations to you, she didn´t ask for you opinion of your wedding. But you think that´s the way your life is from now on.
Aegon, your future brother in law is an arrogant prince who likes to drink and spend his time with whores. Not one nice word comes over his lip just a rude remark about your appearance as the whole family greets you after your arrival.
You close your eyes, take a deep breath and rub your temple to get rid of the slight headache.
At Casterly Rock you felt trapped. A golden cage guarded by lions. Your cage is still there, only now you're being guarded by dragons.
And for a little while you had hope. When you were younger, you went to King's Landing with your mother to get to know your future husband. He was a sweet, almos shy boy, with a kind smile who had discussed history with you for hours or dance with you at a picnic. You thought your stupid girls dreams were coming true.
Is this your life now? Lonely and alone surrounded by strangers?
This is not how you imagined it all. You've known half your life that you would be Aemond's wife. The betrothal was make when you were just a little girl. And of course you were excited to become a princess. Your stupid little girl dreams were full of romance, love and your knightly prince with blonde hair.
But now there is nothing left of the boy from your memories.
Will your marriage be like this? Married to a stranger?
Aemond Targaryen had grown into a cold man who had an almost dangerous aura around him and observed everything with an arrogant distance.
The sweet smile you remembered is gone. You're sure he hasn't smiled in years.
You put a few of your writing utensils on your desk. Your thoughts go to the letters you wrote to Ameond over the years, but one day he just stopped answering you. Did you do something wrong?
Was this marriage doomed to failure from the beginning?
You sigh again and try to push your thoughts from the past away.
It had been a sunny day that slowly turned into a beautiful evening. The setting sun is still shining in your window. You've already had your dinner with your mother and now there's nothing left for you to do. But you are restless. The thoughts of your future life do not allow you to find peace. Gods you are a Lannister from Casterly Rock. A lion! And not a decorative piece that gets ignored and sidelined. Aemond shows no interest in you and you want to know why. The question of what you did wrong haunts you. In your home you were always surrounded by friends, the lords who visited your family praised your kindness and your beauty. You enjoy reading and you are sure that you are a pleasant conversation partner. However, your future husband seems to prefer to ignore you.
You feel lonely. As lonely as you've never been in your life.
No! Your life won't be like that! You refuse to accept this. If Aemond wants to ignore you, he has to give you a good reason for it.
You straighten your back and smooth down your skirts. With quick steps you reach the door and leave your chambers.
"My lady, where do you intent to go?" the guard at your door asks.
"I'm visiting my betrothed." you answer without stopping. The guard follows right behind you.
"You have been instructed not to leave your chambers alone."
"I am not alone. You are with me."
"But my lady..."
"Enough." you just interrupt him. You definitely won't let him change your mind. You will talk to Aemond! But after a few steps you stop. You don't know where the prince's chambers are. You turn slightly to face the guard.
"Where are the prince's chambers?" you ask.
"I must ask you to return to your chambers."
You grimace. "You swore to serve House Targaryen Correct?"
"Yes my lady."
"In a fortnight I will be a Princess of House Targaryen. So you also swore to serve me."
"But my lady.."
"Please."
The guard shifts from one foot to the other and shakes his head slightly. "I have instructions..."
"Fine. Don't help me, I'll just find the way on my own. I hope you're willing to follow me through the Red Keep all night." You turn around sharply to continue walking.
"The other way. Here." you hear after a few steps behind you. You turn around again and look in the direction the guard points .
You give him a smile. "Thank you very much."
You follow his directions and a short time later you find yourself in front of the prince's chambers. You take a deep breath and then knock firmly on the door. It takes a moment and you are invited in. As you attempt to open the door, your guard takes a few steps forward to follow you. "I want to talk to him alone."
"My lady it is inappropriate, you need a chaperone."
"Do you doubt your prince's honor?"
"Of course not!"
"So."
"But my Lady..."
You sigh. "I know I'm not making your job easy today, but I promise to do better. Just not today. I just want one private conversation with the prince. Please."
Now it's his turn to sigh. "I'll wait outside the door. Right infront the door."
"Of course. Thank you." You open the door and enter the prince's chambers. Aemond is sitting on one of the sofas, there is a cup of wine on the table next to him and there is an old book on his lap whose title you can't see. When he sees you he stands up surprised.
"My Lady." he says confused. You close the door behind you and curtsy slightly. You hope he doesn't insist that you curtsy every time you see him after your wedding, but that's not the topic of tonight. Tonight you want an answer.
“Is something troubeling you?” He sounds cold and not really interested, but you push aside the nagging feeling of insecurity. Maybe that was a bad idea after all? But you're here now. Now there is no turning back.
"Yes, something is bothering me." you answer. You are a lion of Casterly Rock. Hear Me Roar! these are your words. And you will show this dragon that you cannot be ignored. Aemond looks at you with a cold expression.
"How can I help you?" he asks annoyed. He's making it clear to you that he doesn't want you here. But you just ignore that. He ignores you, so you can ignore his wishes. You take a deep breath and straight yourself up. You make yourself taller than you are and scrape up all your self-confidence together.
"You do not like me." you say. Aemond's expression changes just for a second, then he wears his cold mask again. You hold his gaze.
"I do not know you." he then says. The bored tone makes you angry.
"And that's your fault." you throw at him. The prince rolls his eye.
"Did you come here to insulte me?"
You bite your lip. "No." you say quietly. "I want to know why you don't like me. I want to know what I did wrong."
Aemond's gaze goes over you. Then he turns to the side, reaches for his wine cup and drinks it. Then he takes the jug and refills his cup and fills a second one.
"Sit with me please." he says, pointing to the seat next to him. You take the steps to the couch and sit down. The pillows are soft, but you still sit straight and ignore the cup of wine in front of you. You suppress the urge to shift back and forth.
"So?" you press.
"You have done nothing wrong."
"Then why have you been ignoring me since I got here?"
"If you wouldn't interrupt me." he says in a strained voice.
You bite your lip again. "I'm sorry."
"Like I said, you didn't do anything wrong. I thought you'd prefer to have time for yourself."
"I had enough time for myself. I'm all alone here. And I would like to know my betrothed before I have to marry him. But you don't even give me the chance to get to know you. You disappear all day long. I don't know anything about you. The only information I get are the gossip from the servants." You feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you quickly blink them away. Aemond's jaw tenses with your words. But you're not quite finished yet. "I don't understand why. We used to write letters to each other and then you stopped replying. And since I've been here you have continued to ignore me. So give me a good reason!"
"I have give you my reasons." he says but doesn´t meet your eyes.
"No. That wasn't a good reason." you insist. That can not be it. Because he thought you needed time for yourself? Nonsense! There has to be another reason. Your thoughts are racing and before you can stop yourself you start talking again.
"Do you think I'm stupid? Not a pleasant conversation partner? Not worthy of your attention? What is it?"
"No of course not."
"Don't you think I'm pretty?"
"Oh please, you're beautiful." he says, sounding a little annoyed.
"So what's your problem?"
"There's no problem. It's just.." he interrupts himself and then takes a deep breath. "You must be very disappointed with this engagement." "With your behavior. Yes, I tried to explain this to you."
"No. Not with that. With the engagement to me. With a disabled prince."
You stare at him, stunned, for a few moments. "What?"
"Don't play dumb. You're beautiful, you probably had hundreds of requests for your hand in marriage."
"The two of us have been engaged since we were children. That's well known."
"Won't change the fact that you have a lot of admirers. Am I wrong?"
You furrow your eyebrows. Yes, of course, many men have given you compliments and little gifts and begged for your attention, but that's normal. You come from a rich, powerful family. You were never really interested in any of that. Why should you? You were already engaged. You had your dream prince. Until he stopped being a dream prince. Before you can answer Aemond talks again.
"I can imagine how embarrassing it is for you to have to marry a disabled prince."
"A disabled prince?"
"Aemond one eye. I know what people call me."
"And why do you think I care?"
He laughs joylessly. "Of course you care."
Anger rises within you again. "You judge me? Without knowing me? How dare you?"
You jump to your feet. Aemond winces. He probably didn't expect this reaction. You start pacing back and forth in front of him. "You think I'm unhappy with our engagement because you're missing an eye?You disappoint me."
"Everyone thinks that. You must be devastated. All your admirers and you are stuck with me."
"I´m not stuck with you. I was happy to be engaged to you. Until you turned out to be a complete idiot." you stop infront of him and glare at him.
"Remember who you talk to."
"I'm talking to the man I'm going to marry. Who obviously already made up his mind. Without knowing me. That's cruel."
Aemond is silent for a moment. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Then tell me. Tell me anything, no matter what. But we can't do it like this. We can't live like this. We can't ignore each other our whole lives. Or is that what you want?" you ask, realizing you sound desperate.
"No of course not." his voice is no longer annoyed, he sounds more tired. You get on your knees in front of him to be at the same eye level again. You hesitate for a moment but then place your hands on his knees. His eyes examine you carefully, but you don't avoid his gaze.
"So where did that sweet boy I met back then go?"
"That sweet boy you were talking about lost his eye and no one cared." his jaw tenses again.
"I wrote you letters. I asked you how you were doing. How you felt. You didn't answer."
"I didn't read it. I thought you were just writing it out of obligation."
"You could have ask me." you say.
"I guess I underestimated you."
"Yes, perhaps."
"I shouldn't have assumed something about you."
"No you shouldn´t." you agree with him.
Aemond takes your hand. "I shouldn't have ignored you. I should have gotten to know you."
"You can do better now."
"I will." he says. "Promise."
You smilie at him. The conversation went better than you could ever imagined.
"And I will start right away." he then says. You look at him confused. Aemond takes a deep breath and lets go of your hand. Slowly his hands go to the back of his head and undoes the buckle of his eye patch. The leather slides carefully from his eye. The blue sapphire sparkles at you. The scar is always only half covered by the eye patch, but now without it, the scar is even more prominent.
You carefully raise your hand, but before you touch him you stop. "May I?" you whisper. He nods. You touch his cheek tenderly and caress it. "You're beautiful." You say. You see the slight blush on his cheek. A smile dances around his lips.
"Thank you." he places his hand over yours and carefully removes it from his cheek. He kisses your knuckles.
"I just say the truth." Now it's a real smile at Aemonds face.
You straighten up and come back to your feet again. You take a deep breath to bring yourself back into the here and now.
"It's late. I should go back to my chambers."
"Yes. Would you like me to accompany you?"
"That won't be necessary. My guard is right outside the door." you nod towards the door with a smile. Aemond raises an eyebrow, but you don't explain further.
"What do you think about accompanying me to Vhagar tomorrow?"
"To your dragon?"
"Yes."
Nervousness and excitement rise within you. "I would like that very much." you answer and the smile dances around his lips again.
Aemond leaves the eye patch on the table as he walks you to the door. He opens it and your guard half stumbles into the room. He must have leaned against the door.
"My prince." he says and bows. You suppress a laugh. He really was right outside the door.
"I trust you to get my betrothed back to her chambers safely ."
"Of course my prince." the guard stutters.
"Sleep well my lady." Aemond now turns to you. He kisses your hand and this time the blush rises in your cheeks.
"Sleep well my Prince." You say.
You turn away and make your way back to your chambers. Your guard right behind you and you can even find the way without his help. You are hopeful about your marriage. Yes, a conversation doesn't solve all the problems, but it was a good start. It's not perfect yet but it's better. And maybe he and you can manage to have a peaceful marriage and maybe be happy with eachother.
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ozai-the-bonsai · 3 months ago
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Could you write for Daemon targaryen like currently after all those nightmares in harnehal he finds a prisoner of harnehal as the only person who brings him peace him falling in love with her and trying to be better person he still fights for team black obviously rahaenya is definitely not happy with these arrangements especially seeing him all dedicated all in love some things he never have done for her but she have no option currently rather accepting his second wife though at the end when team black would be winning and fight at harnehal like aemond Vs Daemon she ask for reader's head happy ending at the end please or anything you wanna write I just wanna see Daemon happy in love at end please
Finally I have time for my hobbies again! Sorry I left you waiting for ages, this term the exam season was tougher than what I have been accustomed to… Anyways, I have started writing some stuff and I wanted to post the intro instead of writing a full-length chapter 1 since it would have taken a couple more days (:
As a side note, I honestly have no idea where this story will be headed because I have no clear course planned, I had some little ideas and I just started writing them. Also I will be introducing stuff which is not in the asoiaf universe.
I am continuing to read Silmarillion from where I left off and let’s say the ideas about Daemon’s love interest are… inspired from what I have been reading (; Enjoy!
Memento Mori
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader
Warnings: strong language, I am not a native English speaker, reader is (or will be) described with long hair
This is a very short introduction! Also the chapter is from Daemon’s pov. The title is inspired by Memento Mori by Lamb of God (the song has been a great inspiration for the story so far)
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The dungeons of Harrenhal were cold, wet and lonely.
He had no idea when, how and why he had gone down there – one moment, he was in his chambers and the next, he was opening his eyes to the mossy stone walls of the dark dungeons with a torch in his hand. The line between dreams and reality was becoming thinner each day he spent in this cursed castle.
As Daemon walked past the empty cells, he tried to shake off this unsettling feeling lingering around him, dancing on his neck on its tippy toes, making him wonder whether he was indeed alone.
I doubt Simon Strong keeps prisoners down here, he thought while wiping the water from his forehead which was dripping from the broken ceiling. Maybe he has decided to lock up the witch?
Just when the Rogue Prince – correction, the King Consort – was about to turn back and leave the depressing, humid and somewhat eerie atmosphere of the dungeons behind, a soft humming reached his ears.
A soft, sweet humming of a song coming from one of the cells at the very end of the darkness.
“What kind of prisoner is Simon Strong hiding here?” Daemon asked, his voice created echoes as he waved the torch in front of him, trying to cast some light.
The humming stopped immediately, as if the sound itself was cut by a knife.
Daemon’s purple eyes widened upon seeing that the last cell was indeed not empty.
There was a young woman inside, looking at him with her eyes full of curiosity. Her hair had an unearthly shine under the dim moonlight. She tilted her head to the side. “You can see me?” She asked, it was the same soft voice from a moment ago, though the sweetness was no longer there to be felt.
Daemon raised an eyebrow at her direction. “Do people not see you?”
The young woman shook her head, her movements – no matter how simple they were – felt almost too harmonious. “Not normally, it is not intended that I am seen.” Stopping for a moment, she eyed Daemon from head to foot. “You are not really here, are you?”
The raised eyebrow quickly turned into a frown. “What do you mean? I am standing in front of you.”
She shook her head once again. As her soft whisper filled his eyes, Daemon started falling into the nothingness, again, for the unknown-th time ever since he had come to Harrenhal.
“Wake up.”
***
When he woke up, trying to catch his breath, Daemon found himself lying on his bed, as always. Anytime he had one of those weird dreams – he wasn’t even sure if he should call them dreams anymore – his consciousness would find its way back to his bed.
Unless he was daydreaming, which were considerably the worse.
“Who the fuck was that weird woman?” Daemon muttered to himself as he stood up, dressing up in his regular robes. The feeling in his stomach was telling him that he had to go down there, to the dungeons, to find that woman. If he were to wait until dawn, he feared she might be gone.
What was it that she said again? It is not intended she is seen?
Leaving his chambers with a torch in his right hand, Daemon shook his head to the thoughts flowing through his mind, causing his silver hair to move. “Weird woman,” he muttered to himself as he walked through the dark corridors of the castle with haste. “She somehow reminds me of the witch.”
The dungeons were as dark and wet as he remembered from the dream. A cold wind was wandering besides him, kissing the mossy walls and licking Daemon’s skin, sometimes whispering wicked words in his ears. Even the wind was odd here, in Harrenhal, but he had somewhat got used to it – hearing its eerie whispers whenever he walked alone during the hour of the wolf.
“Show yourself,” Daemon spoke with a strong voice which created echoes as he stood in front of that very cell from his dream. “Your king commands it!”
“Huh, king?” The same soft voice answered from the dark corner of her cell. The moonlight had left its shining spot, leaving the torch in Daemon’s hands as the only source of light in this entire corridor of the dungeons. “I answer to no king.”
A condescending scoff left Daemon’s lips as he came closer to the bars made of steel, separating him and the weird woman. “You do live in Westros, do you not?” Daemon asked, not really waiting for an answer. “As long as you breathe in this land, you do answer to the King.”
A chuckle came from the darkness. “I have been breathing in this land before your ancestors flew across the Narrow Sea, Daemon Targaryen.”
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felassan · 5 months ago
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What's all this about Solas speaking in iambic pentameter? English isn't my first language so I never noticed anything odd about the way he talks, but your blog is the first time I've seen it mentioned by anyone
hello! ◕‿◕ Solas sometimes speaks in a specific pattern or rhythm. It sometimes gets described as or compared by people to iambic pentameter. (which is a type of rhythm common in traditional English poetry. Shakespeare used it in his sonnets and plays.) Though, I'm not sure that it's actually literally that or always that. The main point is that at those times, he's speaking particularly poetically, with a specific poetic rhythm in his speech. (Like where the stress on syllables is and the 'beats' in his speech.) Occasionally, the Inquisitor's dialogue line[s] in response to him are the same.
When Trick Weekes wrote Solas in DA:I, they wrote some of his key scenes to KD Lang's cover of the song Hallelujah on a loop. They talked about some of their process and the reasons for the use of this technique in terms of Solas' characterization in this DA:I-era blog post:
Trick Weekes: "When Solas talks about things that he saw in the Fade, things that speak to a distant past, I needed him to sound ever so slightly otherworldly and wistful – someone remembering a dream with a sense of both sadness and inevitability. If you follow [that link] and look at some of Solas’s lines, you may notice a familiar rhythm come out. It would have been forcing it to give lines the same rhyme scheme, but giving the words the meter captured some of that wistfulness and made Solas sound ever so slightly otherworldly. (In the rare cases the player got into the same rhythm, there was always an approval bump from Solas. For that brief period, it was like the player was thinking like he did.) I used this a few times over the game, and I love what it did to his voice. Also, Cori (who edited Solas) is exceedingly kind for putting up with my request that changes to those lines keep this surreptitious rhythm."
[source]
An example of when it happens in DA:I is:
"I've journeyed deep into the Fade // in ancient ruins and battlefields // to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I've watched as hosts of spirits clash // to reenact the bloody past // in ancient wars both famous and forgotten. Every great war // has its heroes. // I'm just curious // what kind you'll be."
Compare this with the song's lyrics:
"I heard there was a secret chord // That David played, and it pleased the Lord // You don't really care for music, do ya? Well it goes like this: The fourth, the fifth // The minor fall, the major lift // The baffled king composing Hallelujah Hallelujah // Hallelujah // Hallelujah // Hallelujah"
An example from Trespasser is:
"I lay in dark and dreaming sleep [I heard there was a secret chord] while countless wars and ages passed [That David played, and it pleased the Lord] I woke still weak a year before I joined you. [You don't really care for music, do ya?]" etc.
Recent mentions of this are:
Q. Will Solas still occasionally or dramatically speak in iambic pentameter? A. “Massive kudos to Patrick, who always writes Solas so well. Again, Solas is a returning character. It’s the same Solas you know and love (or hate depending on who you are). The same writer. So I think the answer is yeah, it’s Solas.” – John Epler
[source: BioWare dev Discord Q&A on June 14th]
User: "you really went off with solas. but the iambic pentameter makes writing fanfic dialogue for him so treacherous..." Trick Weekes: "It doesn't always have to be in the cadence! Just when he's deeply feeling The Old Days! He's written in standard prose 99% of the time!"
[source]
I think he does it a bit in the gameplay reveal video [Veil ripping scene with Varric] too. hope this helps :>
[msg refs this post]
[For the developer Q&A from June 14th on Discord: Notes are here, re-watch link is here]
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liveontelevision · 4 months ago
Text
Sweet Radio Demon Alastor x Reader
As promised, here she is -
It's inspired by Living Tombstone's song Alastor's Game!
CW: Reader is a cannibal and it's a p big part of the story so mentions and details of cannibalistic intent and murder
♡♡♡
Some people just don't belong in Hell. The structure of divine judgment must be rigged, punishing any poor soul who commits sin without realizing it. Those individuals don't belong.
Then there are those who do. Those who realize there's an afterlife and instantly come to terms with their placement. That's when all the Oh, I'm definitely going to Hell for this jokes start to bite back.
It's always easier for those who choose to be sinners to adapt to Hell's settings. The job market for porn stars and actors is extensive, and protection is almost guaranteed despite the souls owed or deals made.
But, what interested you the most, you depraved sinner you, was the loveliness of Cannibal Town. Not only was it the nicest part of Pentagram City, but you felt right at home considering your appetite when you were living.
It was immense. Some kind of craving that you could never satisfy, no matter how many callers you invited into your home and how many of them never left. You got creative, playing with recipes, spices, and cooking methods, but it was never, never, enough.
Sometimes, you'd wonder how you got to this point. You were a normal enough kid, went to school, had a nuclear home life, and you were comfortable financially, the works.
You remember it feeling like a stomach ache.
A stomach ache that brought you to tears and kept you from school some days. You almost assumed it was something every child went through until you learned what subdued the pain.
Meat.
It was the solution. You ate like a carnivore at first, then the food became increasingly rare as you aged up. Until you stumbled upon some strange forums online (There's something online for everyone, I suppose). You gave in to the cryptid suggestions. You tried rodents at first, only after thorough mental and food preparation, but fuck did it do the job. It made your body shutter and your mind hazy, momentarily melting any thoughts of guilt you might still have.
As time went on, you grew hungrier. Animals weren't cutting it.. but maybe he could.
You found him online, chatted for a while over some messenger, then discovered how much of a dirtbag he truly was. That seemed to disarm you from the whole idea.
Poor thing.
Maybe if he was kind enough, he would have been spared.
You invited him over.
As you watch him approach your door, you tussle your hair, and adjust your clothes that leave little to the imagination. With a continuous, you can do this, you can do this, you're drawn to the knocking of the door.
"Damn, babe, if I knew you actually looked like this, I would've come over sooner." He props his arm on the doorframe as he speaks.
Is.. is that supposed to be a compliment?
Your eye only twitches a bit before you cover your expression with a cute giggle. Holding your hands behind your back, you lean forward.
"Not too bad yourself, big guy. How's a movie sound?"
One thing leads to another, you're seated on your couch, and his hands are immediately on you. For someone who acts so big and tough, his touch is awkward and uncomfortable. Like he doesn't know what he's doing.. probably because he doesn't know what he's doing.
The inexperience helps.
You didn't take into account how large he was. Assuming this would go as planned, you'd be set for weeks, but the actual action of getting him down still worries you.
You're barely an hour into the movie, which you can hardly remember, before his sloppy lips are on yours, which you respond to with a grimace. He doesn't seem to take into account your reactions, grunting against your very unresponsive lips.
Disgusting.
Pig.
He places a large hand on your waist, pulling you roughly to him.
Strong.
Muscular.
You need more. You need to evaluate your prey. You place your hand on his wrist, delicately running your fingers up the entirety of his forearm, tracing and digging into each vein and muscle you can find. That continues up to his chest. Before long, you find yourself straddling him, his wide hips forcing your legs apart a decent amount. Despite his build, his composure clearly shows he's nearly at your mercy. While you're running your hands along his body continuously, occasionally kissing him or letting out fake moans to his ear, you're feeling his ever-growing length pressing into your leg.
You'd be disgusted by the sensation if you weren't planning your next move internally.
You hid weapons everywhere. If you remember correctly, there should be a knife sitting in the crevice between the couch’s armrest and the side table. You just have to reach -
"Take this off." You command with a breathy voice, tugging at his t-shirt that had some unknown stain on it. You almost regret putting so much effort into your appearance.
Oh, well. You're taking notes in the back of your mind for any future endeavors.
You guide his desperate hands to pull the shirt over his head. In one movement, you drop the shirt and take the hidden knife into your hand. You hadn't realized until just now, but -
You're shaking.
You let out a deep breath. With your arms reaching over the arm of the couch, you're essentially caging him in. Nothing looks suspicious yet. Not to him, at least.
You lean in to give him one final kiss. You aren't exactly sure why. It's not doing anything for you. Maybe some sort of sympathy is crossing your mind?
… You'll have to work on that.
You pull away slowly, giving yourself time to examine the state he's in. His eyes are glazed over, his breath shallow.
Now.
Do it now.
You're ready. You've studied anatomy, disarmed yourself to the idea, and prepared for the worst.
You have to do it now.
You straighten your back, the knife now visible to him. He doesn't seem to notice at first until your arms are in the air, hoping to find some momentum in the stab. With your eyes still open, you find the spot where it should end this without too much pain for either party. You dive as fast as you can, but you made a fatal error.
You shut your eyes.
The moment was immediately silenced by the tension of his hand fisting the blade of the knife. He caught it. He stopped it just before it could pierce his chest, only bleeding from his palm. You both sit silently, in disbelief, perhaps.
A silent curse slips from your lips, and that seems to snap him back to this failure of a hook-up.
"You fucking psychopath!" He screeches. He stands, effectively throwing you off his lap as he does so. The action forces a small yelp out of you, and your grip on the knife is immediately taken from you. You stare up at him from the ground.
The tables seem to have turned. He's looking down at you, stumbling and struggling to find his grounding, all the while holding the knife. Despite this, despite his large build and his newfound advantage, he bolts for the door.
Was this better than him attacking you? Will he go to the police? You almost hope he's fragile enough to not admit he was attacked by a frail creature, or that he'll use this as a story to brag to his friends over, I escaped a psycho bitch last night.
You start cursing again. They become more frantic and louder as you follow him out. You watch him stumble off your patio and back to his car. You manage to find reality when a previous thought hits you.
You hid weapons everywhere.
A shotgun sits by your front door. It wasn't the most hidden, but in your defense, it was dark enough outside that it went unnoticed. And you're in a rural enough area that some wouldn't bat an eye at the sight of it.
With shaky hands, you pick it up, already loaded, and aim it at him. He's already in the driver's seat, but you're too exposed to let him just drive off at this point.
You didn't really know much about guns. But in an emergency such as this, it seemed like it would come in handy. So when you took your shot, you never considered the consequences of shooting bullets at a running car, especially with your poor aim.
You come to moments later, fire and pieces of metal surround you. You try to take in your surroundings, but your ears are ringing, and your senses are overwhelmed by the severe burns covering most of your body. You manage to find your home, still mostly intact. The car, on the other hand, is completely decimated.
In the corner of your eye, you think you can spot some resemblance of your date sprawled along the asphalt. With a heavy breath, which you consider might be your last, you let your head drop onto the pavement.
-
"My my, what a predicament you've got yourself into!"
A voice?
It echoes through your head. You can still only see the crackling of the fire surrounding you, and your ears still ring, but the voice seems clear as day. There's a bit of a static to it, but still it's clearnes startles you. You attempt to respond through the pain.
"W-Who-"
"Save your strength, my dear. I'll be quick since it seems you won't be with us much longer." The voice says. You can hear footsteps, a clear clicking of heels that echo in this ethereal space you find yourself. You struggle to lift your head, only catching a glimpse of the stranger kneeling in front of you.
"I'll clean up this little mess of yours, and we can discuss my repayment once you're in less of a.. scorched state. Deal?"
How could you consider the consequences? Or even comprehend his words while you’re like this? You aren't sure what he means, and you have no time to question. Your consciousness seems to be honing in on the burns.
You let out a horrific scream, clutching your arms, only intensifies the pain. If you could see the stranger, you'd see a disturbingly unphased smile.
"Help me - H-Help me! Please!" You beg and cry out, finally reaching out your hand to him.
"So? Do we have a deal?"
"Deal - Deal! Fuck- I-It hurts..!" You sob, biting your blood-dampened lip to prevent any more screams.
He takes your hand, gripping onto the raw skin of your burns. Your next scream comes out silently. You feel your vision blur before your body finally comes to terms with its seemingly sealed fate.
-
You shoot up from your bed, your face running with tears. They feel cool, running down your heated cheeks. You quickly wipe your face, leaving a wet smudge of makeup and sweat across your fingers.
Right.. make-up from the date.
You scan your bed, no man in sight. It’s a relief to wake up in your bed alone. Shifting out from under the covers, you look to your hands, waving them in front of your eyes and running your hands across your own skin.
Smooth.
Maybe even softer than you remember previously.
Some sort of calming amenity seems to be sweeping over your body. With glazed eyes, you examine your body that should be severely burned, yet you feel nothing.
Still, in a state of shock, you rise and wrap yourself in your blanket before leaving your bedroom looking a mess. You roam your home, looking around with still-damp eyes. You feel like a tourist. Like none of this is yours.
Not anymore.
You find yourself standing by your front door, opening it without hesitation. It's a clear sunny day. The grass is just as green, if not greener, and there were flowers there that you don't recall ever planting.
Suddenly, your bare feet against the heated pavement sends a slight panic through you, as the more gruesome details of the previous night conjured in your mind.
That's why nothing looks right. You were sure your porch was blackened by the fire. The grass was a flame, and there was a car - and that man and the voice -
You approach where his car was parked, only to find a torn-up strip of rubber, assumingly from its tire.
"What the.." unable to even complete a thought, a familiar voice only brings up more questions.
"Ah, my apologies! I assure you it is quite out of character for me to miss a spot." You see a disturbingly tall figure come from behind, swooping down to pick up the rubber scrap. He examines it within his red talons, turning it back and forth. You stand dumbfounded, but he goes on anyway.
"So, what exactly caused your date to ..implode? Was he not to your liking? Too handsy? Too-"
...
You're too tired for this.
You rub the sleep from your eyes, turning on your heels and letting the blanket drag across the rugged pavement behind you as you head back inside. You almost expect some sort of resistance from him, a qwip on how rude it is to walk off in the middle of a conversation, but there is none. Maybe you just imagined that little interaction. Maybe there wasn't really anyone there, and you're still tired or still sleeping.
You open the door, and that same bright smile greets you from inside your own home.
That seems to wake you up.
Your wide eyes scan his face, then peek inside your home behind him. You turn back around to see where he previously was, and obviously there's no sign of his travels. You slowly turn back.
"May I speak now?" His voice is laced with a radio filter, and it hits your ears in the strangest way. The reality of the situation turns your exhaustion into apprehension, yet you nod your head anyway.
"I may have caught you in the midst of your disarray, but I must admit, I'm curious about what led to it." He steps aside and gestures for you to come inside. To your own house.
"H-He got the upper hand is all." You decide not to comment, moving inside sluggishly. As far as you know, this strange being has no idea of the sins you've committed. You quickly fib.
"He attacked me, actually."
"Oh, how devastating!" He lets out a saddened sigh, a hand over his heart with fake sympathy. "Now, was that before or after you attempted to drive a knife through his chest?"
With a defeated groan, you flop onto the couch.
"What are you? A sleep paralysis demon? A.. nightmare? Am I still asleep?" You grumble, running the possibilities out loud and not expecting a true answer. You actually hoped that it would all go away. That this voice in your head, this hallucination, is just that.
In your head.
"Ooh, I like the sound of that.. A nightmare~ has a nice ring to it wouldn't you say?" He stands in front of you, his hands folded formally behind his back.
"Now. Enough with the compliments. What truly happened, my dear?” When his voice suddenly turns sympathetic, you find yourself actually in need of someone to vent to.
“Well, since you're clearly just a nightmare - or.. something - ” You sit up, take in a deep breath, and with its release, you reveal yourself.
All of you.
Every single animal you've killed to curb your pain, what seems to work and what doesn't, and the previous nights failure. You talk about the number of friends and family you've scared off throughout the years, everything.
“I.. was gonna eat.. him…” You squeak out your final sentence. You've never really said it out loud before. And never in front of someone else. It made your own blood run cold. Not the thought of the act itself, but just sharing it aloud. your eyes stay fixed on your fidgeting hands in your lap when a loud cackle interrupts your anxiousness.
“My word, aren’t you just the cutest basket case? You're lucky to be dealing with a demon of similar tastes.” He hisses his final words, all with a sly smile. He sounds prideful in his admission. His words seem like they're meant to disarm you, and even though he essentially admitted to being a cannibalistic demon, it works.
“Well.. since we have sooo much in common-” Your voice drags, the notion of being similar to this demon feeling strange to mention out loud, “-would you.. help me? With all this..?”
Expecting another laugh, maybe some more teasing, you're met with a confusing expression. His smile is still there, unmoving, but you catch the smallest twinkle in his eye. He stands and faces away. The hope of finding an outlet for your cannibalistic intent starts to dwindle.
Your misplaced disappointment is overtaken by the flickering of lights and the soft tunes of a radio nearby, one that you recognized but were sure had been broken for decades. He turns his head unnaturally, looking over his shoulder to meet you with blackened eyes.
“I would be absolutely delighted.”
-
“Lucky for you, some of your late-night delivery seemed to withstand the flames!”
You follow that transatlantic accent to your kitchen, unamused by his continuous puns and casual speech. This big scary demon friend of yours presents a commically large plate, with a very familiar carcass sitting atop.
He did nothing to make it look any less disturbing than it truly was. the skin was nearly burned off, the smell was just awful, and the shirt was somehow still recognizable through it all.
You cover your mouth in response. The fact that it doesn't smell much different than some of the other carnivorous meals you’ve prepared nauseates you more than the sight of the corpse itself.
“Quite a specimen, very good choice! But, you needed tips, correct?”
All you can think of to respond is a simple nod of your head.
“Then let's get started!” With a snap of his clawed fingers, a sleek black apron covers his suit.
The next few hours were grueling, but.. fun? If you're allowed to call it that. You were given multiple pointers, and sure, they were all quite helpful, but they were in excruciating detail. What certain parts of the body you should pick or avoid was one thing, but discussing what wine pairs with what organs? It's not a conversation you ever thought you'd have.
By the time the meal looks normal, all decorated with spices in a baking pan and in the oven, you instinctively go to do dishes. As you fill the sink and start bringing things over, a little creature has you nearly tripping. You look down, seeing a strange little stitched doll carrying most of the dishes to the sink. No matter how strange it looked, you respond with a curious hum, fully desensitized to it at this point.
“Huh..” is all you can say. You take any remaining dishes and follow suit, plopping it all into the water. The little doll seems to be tugging at your leg when you try to walk off. It's holding its arms up to you, letting out little murmurs that sound restrained by the stitches across its mouth. You hesitate at first, but scoop it up in your arms and place it aside the sink. And it gets to work scrubbing away.
“Damn, you're cute, and you clean? Can I keep you?” You ask it quietly, giving it a quick pat on the head. It seems to smile.
“Quite a delightful little thing, one of my better creations, I must admit.” The response from him seems to scare the poor thing straight. It immediately lowers its head and focuses on cleaning. You scoff at the interaction between the two. if his own toy is scared of him, should you be as well? “That being said, I simply can not part with it. My apologies.”
“Oh, I was kidding. Mostly.” You reply quietly. You hear the first chuckle from him that seems genuine. No ill intent, just a joyous response to your little quip. It felt kinda.. Nice.
-
“So, Mr. Scary Demon Man-” You clear your throat before you speak. “-why are you here, exactly? did I do something to summon you? Or-” He cocks his head to the side at the title, a little twitch to his eye.
“Not at all, my dear. I simply wanted to help you in your little endeavors, from one cannibal to another, Haha!” His tone goes back to that of a salesman. Like he’s trying to convince you he’s something he’s not.
“Well.. thank you, I guess. I don't really understand why you’d want to help me without wanting something in return, though. You don't seem like-”
“-A charitable man? I suppose that’s fair.” He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. “If you’re so desperate to return the favor, why don’t we strike a deal? Just a little one. Between friends.”
You weren’t stupid. His words made it clear that this was his intention from the moment he chose to save your life. You shrunk a bit.
“Sure, between friends.” You let out a sigh, your somewhat chipper attitude immediately fading. He takes no time to be empathetic.
“Good! Now, you seem to have an eye for food. This meal was ideal considering your poor execution.” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling. “And you can’t get meals quite like this where I’m from. How about you keep providing, with my assistance, and I’ll make sure it’s prepared to the best of my abilities. In exchange for all my hard and generous work, I get half the spoils! Seems far more favorable on your end, but I’m feeling rather generous today.”
Where he’s from? You want to question it. You want to know more about him, you want to know -
“What’s your name?” Your sudden questioning leaves him speechless for a moment, but he’s quick to recover his charming smile. “You never told me.”
“Well, considering you won’t need my name if you don’t agree to this little game, how about I throw that in as well? You provide the living flesh, and I’ll handle the rest. And, you’ll get my name.” He stands before you, a bit too close for your comfort, as he reaches his hand out to you. “Call it a deal?”
An ominous green glow surrounds the two of you. It sends some kind of wind through your clothes and hair. His hand is especially bright, and his eyes go back to that frightening black that you experienced previously.
At the end of the day, if this is what you have to do to stifle those damned pains, it doesn't seem all that bad. You extend your hand, instinctively flinching at the seemingly impending danger. But that still doesn't stop you.
“O-Okay.. Deal.” With the touch of his palm against yours, the glow flashes, forcing your body to tense and your eyes to squeeze shut. It only lasts for a moment, though. When you open your eyes, you first examine your connected hands. His hand is huge compared to yours. From this proximity, you can truly take in how unnaturally tall he is.
Attempting to tug your hand back, his grip tightens, forcing your hand to his lips for a quick kiss to your knuckles. An outdated and surprisingly intimate action leaves you a bit flustered.
“My name is Alastor. It’s been a pleasure, my dear~”
-
And so, your transactional deal went on, right until your demise. You used a similar tactic to bring more meals to your doorstep, finding a handful of poor saps online. You weren’t exactly sure what he meant when he offered his assistance, but when the time came, a strength took over your body that you never experienced before. There were no more shaky hands or sympathy. Your aim was always true, and it was just so easy. Any impending dangers or possible retaliations were alerted to you by a subtle whisper, a voice, coming from just behind you. It was startling at first, but quickly became a comfort.
When it came to preparing the food, which Alastor said he’d handle, you’d essentially leave your victim's remains in the kitchen and would come back to a meal ready for the oven. Sometimes, you’d leave the body as is, limp on the couch, or sprawled on the floor, only when you were too exhausted to deal with the clean-up. On nights like that, you’d wake up to a completed meal the next morning. You liked to picture him going through your home, rolling up his sleeves and wearing that apron, cleaning things up, and cooking in your kitchen how he did that first night.
That being said, you didn't normally see his physical form. There was the lent strength and whispers during your hunts, but other than that, contact seemed to nearly cease. Why was that upsetting you? You cursed yourself for being too much of a romantic - for making this seem like anything more than a delusion you conjured up to make this whole action easier for you.
And that pain? That constant hunger that was never sufficed nearly went away. In fact, you’ve never felt fuller.
He did return on especially rare occasions. You never complained, and you attempted to hide your excitement when you'd catch him lurking in the corner of your eye.
Sometimes, it was to cook for you again. Despite the deal being in full swing, you would ask him to show you some of the recipes. Normally, it would just appear, looking delicious and homemade as always, yet you still pestered him to show you how to prepare some things. He always acted burdened by it, but seeing him cooking felt.. Domestic. Like, when he was cooking, he was truly in his element. It made it easy to forget what he was, which you found yourself questioning less and less. It simply didn't matter anymore.
One particular visit was late into the night. He actually woke you up from the racket, which had never happened before. Stumbling out of your bed, expecting to see police raiding your home or something worse, you’re instead met with a swaying radio demon and a shattered vase. Whenever he was around, soft music would play from your busted radio, a contrasting notion to the fumbling man in front of you now.
“Alastor?” You call out, a wave of relief hitting you and bringing the baseball bat from your hands to the floor. “What the hell are you doing? It’s like.. three in the morning..” The realization of the time makes the previous adrenaline seep out of you.
“Ha-ha! Isn’t that an interesting concept? The Devil’s Hour. Throw some religious implications, and it drives people mad! In reality, it’s just when your feeble body is at its most vulnerable.” He rambles on, spilling the drink from his bottle as he exaggerates his actions. He walks to you as he goes on, his body still swaying. “When your little fragile human heart reaches its lowest speed. When waking you would cause.. distress.” He goes on, his words suddenly sounding melancholic.
“Your breathing is erratic.” He adds, staring intensely at your heaving chest. “And you are hot to the touch-” The back of his claws trace the apple of your cheek, where even you can feel the heat radiating from your skin. Because his voice has no filter. You’ve never heard it like that before. You’ve never heard him sound so human.
His hand traces down your face to press against your chest. He’s feeling your heart. And it’s beating erratically.
“Your heart is fast. Are you distressed?” He leans in closer, to the point where you can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Do I make you distressed?”
In a flustered panic, you push him away. His closeness, his touch, it all threw you off guard.
“N-no, I’m just tired. You woke me up in the middle of the night, asshole.” You cross your arms over your chest, watching him laugh and struggle to find his bearings after being shoved. With a groan, you pull him by his slender arm over to the couch. He sits down with a thud, and you sit a careful distance next to him.
“That is what is so refreshing about you, my dear.” He lets out a dreamy sigh, and you pull the whiskey from his hand before he can break anything else. “Why - you have no idea who you’re dealing with, I could be a powerful demon overlord,” He slurs his words. “But, to you, I’m just your sweet radio demon~” He sings out.
Alastor leans into you, uncharacteristically tapping your nose. You swat his hand away, forcing another loud chuckle from him. He stays leaning forward, even seated beside you, he towers over you. Your wide eyes meet his.
“Even your eyes show no sign of fear. How curious.” You stay like this a little longer. His breath still reeks of expensive whiskey, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes from him. You’re terribly focused on keeping your distance, but he doesn't seem to have the same concern.
With a sly smile, he removes his coat and flips to his back, laying his head in your lap. With his long legs crossed over each other and hanging very much off the couch, you’re almost nervous to touch him. He wasn’t especially touchy, only doing so when necessary; fingers brushing against fingers, a hand on the shoulder for a mere second- why can you remember each moment so vividly? Why is it so fresh in your mind?
“Alastor, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you at home? or.. wherever you are when you're not here?” That’s still something you’ve questioned. You weren’t one to pester him so insistently, wery on losing the good thing you have going on.
“Unfortunately, I’m not sure! Be careful with your alcohol, my dear! Ha-haa!” He slurs out with a grin. “I suppose.. I prefer to be here.”
“What? Why? If you’re some powerful overlord, don’t you have somewhere better to be getting sloshed?” You scoff, keeping your eyes away from his head that was still perched comfortably in your lap. He seems to even nuzzle into your thighs a bit, and it only flushes you more. You take an unpermitted swig of his confiscated drink.
“Hm! Well, I can’t exactly get meat this fresh in Hell-” He taps his chin in thought to your rhetorical question that clearly went right over his head. “-besides! It’s not nearly as nice without you.” He sounds so matter of fact, so sure of his words. You hold your breath, suddenly reliving every moment together before this.
You’d chat and joke around in the kitchen, but you’ve really learned more about him than you thought. How he sews together those strange little creatures. And he seems so proud of them, despite their clear fear of his presence. You noticed he always puts some sort of spice in the meals he cooks, and that even if it's too much, you eat it anyway. How he simply hates getting dirty despite his occupation. He rolls up his sleeves, has that dumb apron, and uses those little toys of his to keep clean.
You loved it.
You’ve done nothing but enjoy every moment with him. You don’t need to know what he is to know that.
Wait, did he say Hell?
“You’re from Hell? There’s a Hell??” With a more shocked exclamation than feared, you finally look down at him. He’s too far gone, humming along to the music, he barely hears your questions. With a clearly defeated sigh, you brush his hair from his face. He winces from the action, his smile wavering but not breaking under your touch.
“Ah, I wish I knew how you survive this cozy little life.” His voice is quiet and mumbled.
You.
I can live this way because of you.
He manages to finish off the bottle with one more swig - when did he take that back?
Your thoughts begin to wander, absent-mindedly twirling strands of hair through your fingers, raking your fingers down his scalp, only to startle yourself with the sensation of animalistic ears. And they’re twitching. Whether it be your reaction or his, it seems to force a little yelp from you, so you reel your hand away.
“I didn’t mean to alarm you, darling.. Could you - or.. You can.. Continue. If you’d like.” His voice had dropped that strange filter again. You feel woozy. That whiskey you had shared, maybe it was strong. Or.. it was the middle of the night, you were sure you were just tired. You spiraled to come up with any reasonable excuse other than developing feelings for a Hellbound demon. You wonder if you-
Oh, you’re definitely going to Hell.
But, could it be something to look forward to?
Your intimate thoughts cloud your mind, leaving your hand mindlessly petting a literal demon. Your fingers combed through his hair, delicately clawing up the ears and pinching the softness at the tip of each one. Despite your thorough and elaborate massage, your mind has wandered to how a relationship with a possible hallucination of a demon would work out. But that's ridiculous, isn’t it?
“Alastor, can I ask you-” your words are brought to a halt and your eyes drop. A quiet hum of satisfaction, leaving a barely conscious radio demon, who’s head still sat in your lap. With a curse under your breath you decide you're trapped.
There was absolutely no chance of escape. What, were you supposed to wake him? What if you upset a powerful overlord demon, or whatever he claimed to be? Albeit uncomfortable, you force yourself to sleep. Enjoy it while you can, who knows if it's even real?
You didn't see him for awhile after that.
-
Alastor was a poinient man. He never missed a pick up before. So when you realized the meat you've portioned off for him was still sitting in your fridge, you start to worry. You're not exactly sure why, you’ve pushed any and every intimate thought from your mind.
This is purely transactional.
Even though his portion had gone untouched for a few days.. A few weeks, if you really think about it, you already had a date set with another victim.
It went on as usual. A dumb hunk of meat thinks he’s all that until you’re straddling him. You decide to stick to what you know works; a knife to the heart.
You mapped exactly where to plant it, as he fiddles with your top, and with a raised arm, you go to claim your next victim.
There was no warning.
There was supposed to be a warning.
The next thing you know, you're pinned to the floor, your wrist being gripped so tightly you have no other option than to scream and lose your grip on the knife.
Your date took no time. No hesitation.
The last thing you see is the opposing view. A stranger straddling your body with a knife held high above his head.
It seems so quiet.
And it's awful.
Where was the warning?
If anything, you should've at least heard Alastor's voice telling you how to avoid this. You always do. A slight pang of worry hits you, but it's quickly overtaken by anger.
With a final yelp that's fueled with frustration, hurt, and a broken heart, you met your demise quickly and alone.
By the time you've come to, you're surrounded by a handful of black eyed children. You immediately scramble backward, hitting your back against a brick wall. You’d notice your surroundings if these little scavengers werent eyeing you with an innocent curioustity. You let out a hiss, holding a hand over your eye. A streak of blackened blood comes from it, your palm thoroughly stained with it.
“You must be new~”
“You’re very handsome!”
“How did you die?”
A bombard of tiny voices and questions go straight over your head, a ringing in your ears forcing your mind to go hazy.
“Alright, give ‘em some space, kids!” A sweet voice seems to bring you back. You look down to your seated body. Your skin is a deathly gray, and your top is stained with your own blood. It’s still red. “Don’t overwhelm the poor thing, I’m sure they’re quite shaken!”
Your eyes then trace up the silhouette of a vintage looking entourage, then to a sharp-toothed smile. The woman stands before you, a hand held out to you.
Her eyes are just as black and her skin is just as pale as those children that now whisper and giggle to eachother nearby.
It didn’t take you long to realize your misfortune.
You died.
You’re upset sure, but you find that you’re mostly angry. None of this wouldve happened if you- if he-
“Come on, cutie! Let’s get you cleaned up.” Her considerate smile clears your mind almost immediately. You don’t hesitate accepting her assistance.
-
“He was supposed to help me. He said he would be there for me! I died because of him..!”
A strained smile and a quick nod is the only response you get to your angered rambling. The kind face that scooped you off the streets was Rosie, one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, who just so happens to own most the souls in Cannibal town.
Lucky you.
She did exactly as she said, having her fun and playing a bit of dress up with you. It wasn't exactly your style, but there were more concerning things when it came to your appearance. Your eyes were just as black as Rosie’s. As those children who have been following you around.. In fact, most residents of cannibal town had this feature.
You really are in Hell.
Right where you belong.
Right along side people who are just like you. It almost felt.. Comfortable.
You confided in her, going on and on about some jerk of a demon who broke a promise that cost you your life. How he had been helping you in fights, saved your life a number of times, taught you how to cook, showed up drunk to simply sit in your lap, then just fucking disapeared when you needed him most. Your face was turning red, from anger or the way you gushed about him, Rosie couldn’t quite decipher.
What wasn’t comfortable was the period clothing you were put in. But according to Rosie, it’s Perfect! What a doll!
“Is Alastor. The radio demon?” She completes your sentence with a sigh, standing to tower over you and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I hate to break it to you, hun, but no one’s seen him in quite a while.. If i’m being entirely honest with you, he’s a dear friend of mine.” You instantly tense at her words. You just went on a rant about how shitty he was, only to find out he’s disapeared with no explanation. Maybe it was a good reason. A good enough reason to leverage your own life? You aren’t sure.
“I have to find him!” You finally say, as if a lightbulb switched in your head. He seemed so unattainable all these years, but now? You’re in his house. “Miss Rosie! Can you help me? His name-”
“I can’t say he didn’t wrong you, but he’s a man of his word, hun.. If he’s not holding up his promises, then he might be in some real trouble.. ” You hear her voice crack, yet she doesn't let her smile drop.
Another factor to consider that Alastor might have bitten more than he can chew, yet she still sympathises with you. You nearly knock the wind out of her with your arms encircling her small waist. Your head rests just at her chest. You can’t see her face, but her arms are around you almost instantly.
-
As you got settled in town, you did actually use the skills that Alastor had taught you throughout your lifetime. You understood why he made your previous deal. Demon flesh was just fine, but you really needed to spice it up to be anything special. And even then, it still couldn't compare to fresh, living, meat.
You started off just making and baking your own food. Then, when one cannibalistic child asked to try some, they told their friends, who told others.
After a while, you were cooking for half the town. You had a line every morning out of your own home. Once Rosie took notice, it was time for you to make a deal.
“Why can’t I sign a contract with you? You’ve done so much for me, I trust you with my soul.” You had taken Rosie out for dinner, where you planned to discuss a potential deal. Even with you barely being in Hell for a year, you heard plenty about Extermination Day, contracts, dealing in souls, all of it. You did your research. You talked to some of the townsfolks and saw no real downside in giving your soul away. Your proposal seems to surprise her, though.
“You still have your soul? Didn’t you make a deal with Alastor?” She asks, quieting her voice when she says his name, as if just the sound of it would make you upset. It only makes your eye twitch, though, just at the thought of the whole ordeal.
“I did, but he didn't say anything about my soul.. Was he.. Supposed to take it?” You question.
“Well.. he’s made deals like that before, favors for favors, right?” You nod. “But to go all the way to Earth just for some food? That’s.. Not like him…” Rosie seems to be lost in thought, trying to piece together his intentions. You clear your throat, and attempt to calmly bring her back. You slide a tupperware container of lady fingers you had made just before this.
“I want a restaurant, Rosie. I’ve been keeping an eye on that abandoned shop in the town square. I can feed everyone in town if you’ll let me. And.. protection, of course. Would that work?”
She opens the box with a sparkle in her black eyes, almost immediately popping one of the delicate treats to her lips. With a hum of satisfaction and a snap of her fingers, the glowing golden paper floats in front of your eyes.
“It’s a deal, darling!”
-
You could barely call it a restaurant at first, but you were elated. Rosie granted you some extra hands to make deliveries and assist in the kitchen. Everything seemed to be going your way. Your first extermination day went by quickly. For some reason, angels weren’t destroying everything in town. And you and your little shop were both safe, untouched, really.
You had a steady job, loving customers, and a residency near the center of town. You were almost surprised how having a shared interest, in eating human flesh, can bring people together. And after just a few years, you had a community.
You had a family.
Something you never really though you’d have, in life or death; A home.
Things were going so well. This was supposed to be your happy ending. It had been a few years since you had signed the contract, and you still feel satisfied with your decision. You could really be yourself here.
In Cannibal Town.
In Hell.
It made you laugh sometimes, how much joy the underworld brought you.
On a say that seemed like any other, you had sold out your stock for the day early, and went on to send the rest of yout employees home, when you heard a ruckus near the gazebo.
The screech of a microphone, and a very distant agitated Susan, is all you can truly hear from where you are. You drop everything to join the crowd.
It was the princess of Hell.. You weren’t one to keep up with politics or media, there was no need for you. You entertained yourself plenty just by residing in town. But, you managed to hear her blow up before being dragged away. A tall, rugged figure takes their place, ready to entertain the crowd while the Princess gathered herself.
“Come one, come all! While our little princess is collecting herself, who would appreciate a quick song, hm?”
“There is no fucking way..” You mutter to no one but yourself.
Alastor.
He holds his hand up to his ear, waiting patiently for the adoring crowd to praise his presence before he went on. You knew Rosie was a friend of his, he was a cannibal afterall, but for the entire town to love him just as much? Including Susan?
It’s absurd.
He went on to perform some showtune, one that sounded familiar to you. The crowd excitedly surrounds the pavilion, dragging you nearly to the front. You held a look of disgust. A look of betrayal.
You didnt want to see him, you told yourself. Things were perfect as is, you felt no need to repair a relationship with your imaginary friend you conjured up while alive.
Although, you never thought you had to. He had been gone for years, he nearly became just a passing thought.
An unreasonable part of you stayed put. A part of you wants him to see you and recognize you, to remember what he had forgotten. You stood with your arms crossed, your heart beating rapidly just at the sight of him.
He looks entirely the same, completely unphased. You’ve changed so much visually, and you’re happier now. Bolder. You’re not shying down now.
He catches your eyes.
The music screeches to a halt, sounding like a record player needle dragging across the disc. You’re holding back a smile, almost proud that you were able to stop him in his tracks. This had to be the first time he’s thought of you in over seven years.
And stops singing.
Lucky for him, the princess is finally ready to make her own point. You stick around, not exactly paying attention to her lyrics. You keep your face of disdain strong, stepping away and flinching at any advance Alastor would make to reel in the crowd. He seems to distract himself just fine until Charlie whisks away the crowd. Again, you're firmly planted in your spot.
Alastor turns to you, much more apparent of who he’s dealing with now that you stand alone from the crowd. His ears are flat against his head, and his smile is turned at the corners. His eyes seem to dart back and forth as if he’s deciding whether or not to stay. To be with you.
Oh, he’s nervous.
You’ve never seen him nervous before. It feels good. You’re making the almighty Radio Demon nervous. You smile just slightly. But not a smile between old friends, but a smile in response to his realization that he fucked up.
Despite your delay, Alastor continues on with the rest of the parade. Your body immediately lost all tension once he leaves.
-
“Well, well! I knew I recognized that menu. I was ready to tear apart some poor sinner for using my recipes.” A familiar, antagonizing voice echoes throughout your little empty shop.
You turn on your heels, almost startled by the sudden intrusion.
Almost.
But, you'd be lying if you said you weren't hoping for it.
Just a little.
Of course, he'd come back. Maybe to make another lowly deal. Or to get you to do more menial tasks for him, to flaunt his power and authority.
“Yeah, well.. when you've been left for dead, and all you have is your skills, you do what you have to, to survive.” You snap, turning your back to him to continue wiping off an already spotless counter. “Plus, it never hurts to marginalize.”
“I've actually tried some of your food here.. Hm! And I hadn't the slightest idea who prepared such a meal. You've gotten better, I'll give you that! Such a small world.” He says with a nostalgic sigh. You can hear his heels clicking throughout the empty store, circling the room before eventually approaching you.
How can he speak to you like you were still.. aquitanced?
“I hope whatever kept you busy these seven years was worth my life.” You mutter. You weren't sure if you wanted him to hear that or not. Maybe if he did, he'd finally apologize or-
“Oh, it was! A nice little sabbatical is exactly what I needed.” You quickly turn to see him polishing his claws against his coat and smiling quite brightly. “I will say it is a pleasure to be meeting you here! I'm glad you settled in so easily.”
“You killed me, Alastor! You were supposed to keep me safe.. and now I'm dead! Because you disappeared without a word!” You start to scold him, finally hitting a breaking point. All he does is scoff at you.
“Oh please, I didn't even take your soul. And it's not like you'd end up anywhere else if you were to perish later on.” He speaks so casually about it all.
But, you were ready to cry. To kick and scream at his arrogance.
The feeling of sharp fingers engulfing your shoulders leaves you suddenly tense and puts your murderous thoughts on hold. He's vanished from in front of you and now looms over you, his eyes meeting yours from over your shoulder.
“Plus, you seem to be quite happy here! Why don't we just call it even then, hm?”
He can not be serious.
You pull away from him, the tears welling in your eyes finally letting loose.
“Alastor, stop!” You yelp, turning to face him. “That’s.. so unfair! You broke a promise! And you-” you hold your finger out to scold him even more, but you feel your body simply going slack. “-you hurt me.. I just.. thought that after all that time, after that night, you'd care a little more..” You look up to him, in the hopes of being met with some sort of sympathy. But his unnatural smile goes unwavering. You rub your arm awkwardly, losing your confidence as your words turn more vulnerable without your realizing.
“Oh, I can feel your pain, not to worry dear. I truly meant no harm when I couldn't hold up my end of the deal.” He's smiling and drawing out his words, only setting off a sense of unease within you. You finally let out a shaky sigh.
“With everything you've done for me.. I thought that.. you might've liked being around me…” You let out, your voice running slightly ragged from the previous shouts. “I thought we were having a good time! Then after all this?” You grow an uncertain smile.
A previous sight that made you giddy before only brings you dread now. His ears are flat, his eyes struggle to meet yours. He's losing his composure.
“I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted it to happen.” You laugh through your words, your hands raking through your hair in a stressed manner. In your little pits of passion, you don't get the chance to see his wavering smile, the grimace on his face, any of it. When your words are met with silence, though, that's when you finally look up to him.
He's nervous, again.
“Oh.. my-” your sentence barely starts before he attempts to cover his slip up.
“Now let's calm down, I really didn't mean for- I didn't intend-”
“Isn’t there rules to this? Were you ever allowed to meddle with my life in the first place - let alone - be on Earth??”
“-God! You killed me on purpose?? Just so I could come down here to do your bitch work?” You snap, your laugh becomes delirious and your tears betray the anger you're meant to be showing.
He’s scrambling for a witty reply, his expression finally showing his true intentions for the first time in a long while. He’s speechless.
“I’m such an idiot.. Of course, you never cared. Bastard.” You mumble your words to the room, losing any fear of him hearing your insults.
Your vulnerability sends a strange shiver down his spine. One he’s never felt before, one that makes his chest ache and his muscles tense.
“Well - Now, let's just talk for a moment before you-” Alastor extends his hand out to your turned back, but it never reaches you. A delicate grip takes his wrist, bringing him to a full stop. He stops, unnaturally snapping his neck to see who would dare disrupt the Radio Demon himself.
His ears flatten against his head, and with a sudden disbelief in what he’s seeing, his eyes return to their normal crimson.
Rosie towers over his hunched form, her eyes stern.
♡♡♡
“Al, sweetheart, you gotta go. You're disturbing my client.”
I love when Alastor fucks up and found out
THIS IS A TWO PARTER I PROMISE
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joelalorian · 7 months ago
Text
Fall Into Me - Chapter Nine: I'd Fall for You Twice if That's What You Wanted
dbf!Joel x f!reader
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Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.
Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.
Word Count: 3.2k
Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings. Sarah, Tommy, Emily, and JB unknowingly banding together for the win. Joel is his own warning. Inappropriate (or entirely appropriate?) use of a massager. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).
Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!
Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics
Chapter Eight | Main Masterlist
“Girl, you’ve got it baaad,” Emily teased, watching you eye your phone every five seconds. The pair of you were getting drinks at your favorite watering hole the Saturday before your first full week of officially teaching.
“I can’t help it, Em. He’s got this, like, hold over me or something,” you replied sheepishly, one hand tucking your phone away in your back pocket. You were starting to annoy yourself with how often you checked for texts from Joel.
“You’re in love, that’s what happens.” Emily shrugged and sipped at her fruity mixed drink. “How’d the holidays go?”
Your expression lit up as you told Emily about your first major holidays with the Millers. Having spent some holidays with them while you were still away at school, your dad already fit into their family dynamic seamlessly. You were a happy and much-loved addition to the festivities and there was plenty of laughter among the adults at how badly Tommy botched dinner for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. Why Joel and your dad ever let him try again after the wreck that was Thanksgiving dinner was beyond you. Thankfully, your dad saved the day both times with his unparalleled grilling skills.
“So, it’s safe to say that JB’s still happy about you and Joel being together?” Emily asked after your own laughter at recounting the mess died down.
“Is he ever,” you replied with a shake of your head. “He loves to rib Joel on making an honest woman out of me. Joel takes it in stride, but I’m kinda afraid that it’ll scare him off if my dad keeps it up.”
“Oh, please! That man is clearly head over fuckin’ heels for you. Hell, he’s already told you and JB that he loves you, he’s not goin’ anywhere!” After taking another sip of her drink, Emily shot you a pointed look. “When the hell am I gonna meet Joel, anyway? I feel like you’re actively hiding him from me.”
You stilled.
Were you doing that? You didn’t think so, not at first, but… If you were honest with yourself, there was an element of truth to Emily’s accusation.
“Shit, Em. I’m not doing it purposefully, I swear,” you replied beseechingly, pausing to figure out how to properly explain things. Finding a scratch in the tabletop suddenly fascinating, you stared at it while continuing. “I just have to share him so much already, between Sarah and my dad, even his brother – not that I begrudge him spending time with any of them, especially Sarah! It’s just… when I have time with him, I want to keep him to myself. You know what I mean?”
God, that made you sound so selfish. You looked up to find Emily grinning at you.
“What?” you asked, confused.
“I’ve never seen you so in love. It looks good on you.” Emily clinked her now empty glass against your half-full one. “Just promise me that I’ll get to meet him soon. We could do a double date or something, so it doesn’t take away too much of your precious alone time.”
Over another round of drinks, you made plans for a few Fridays from now, quietly hoping Joel wouldn’t mind.
Heading home, you longed to see Joel, but it was late, and he was spending time with Sarah. He went to great lengths to make sure his daughter did not feel left out or neglected while the two of you explored your relationship, setting aside time for just the two of them to hang out. You loved that about him and knew how important that quality time was for Sarah. Besides, you planned to head over there tomorrow to get a little quality time of your own ahead of the busy week ahead.
In the morning, you slept in and lazed around the house for a while, taking the opportunity to relax and ease into your day while your dad puttered around until mid-day. You hadn’t heard from Joel, but that didn’t bother you – he knew you planned to come over. Around one o’clock, you headed over to the Millers, picking up some pizza and beer on the way.  
Pulling up in front of the house, you found your usual spot in the driveway taken by your dad’s truck while Tommy’s truck blocked the remaining space. With a huff you parked along the curb. You would have ordered more pizza if you knew everyone would be here.
“Howdy boys,” you greeted as you walked in. “I come bearing pizza and beer, though I fear we’ll need lots more with this crew.”
Only one set of eyes turned away from the football game playing on TV as they all greet you in return. Getting up from his beloved corner spot on the couch, Joel took the pizza and beer from your hands and placed them on the coffee table before pulling you into the kitchen for a proper greeting.
“Hi darlin’, I’ve missed you,” Joel murmured, his voice already raspy from yelling at the TV. He pulled you close until your bodies were flush together and kissed you deeply. Like a magnet, your fingers threaded through his messy curls, tugging gently as he nibbled your bottom lip.
“Mmm, I missed you, too, handsome. Didn’t know you were having company.”
Joel flashed his big cow eyes at you, eyebrows pinched together regretfully. “’M sorry, baby. I didn’t know they were coming by to watch the game ‘til they got here. Apparently, my TV is the best, so here they are. Hope that’s ok. I’ll kick ‘em right the hell out if you want me to.”
The thought did cross your mind.
“Nah, enjoy the game with the boys. I’ll sit with you guys for a bit then hang with Sarah until they leave.” Still wrapped in each other’s arms, you nuzzled the tanned skin of Joel’s neck and he hummed.
“You gonna stay over?”
You shouldn’t, not on a school night – your first as a bona fide teacher – but you had so little time together. “Sure. Just don’t keep me up too late, Mister. Those kids are exhausting, and I need my energy for the first day.”
“Miller! Stop neckin’ with my daughter and get your ass out here!” your dad’s voice bellowed through the house, causing the two of you to spring apart.
“Jesus, Dad,” you sighed, pecking Joel on the lips one last time before following him out to the living room. When would the game be over?
Surprisingly, you enjoyed the time watching the game with everyone. Even Sarah came down to join you all at half-time, book in hand, and sat between you and Joel reading. It was a lovely afternoon and a lovelier night as Joel held you in his arms, whispering words of praise into your hair until you fell into a deep slumber.
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Your first week of teaching passed in a blur. After a month of assisting the prior teacher before his official retirement, the students knew you and respected your authority, setting the stage for an overall lovely experience. You started off with earth science lessons and most of the kids were engaged and eager to learn. Of course, you had a few little challenges with difficult students testing their boundaries, but you felt good about the way you handled each situation.
You stayed later after the students were dismissed, using the time to organize the room to your liking and get the lesson plans in order. Sarah perched at one of the long wooden tables working on her homework while you completed your tasks. The pattern offered you and Sarah some quality time together and the young girl found great enjoyment in putting you on the spot, especially when her dad was the topic at hand.
“JB keeps telling dad he needs to marry you,” Sarah blurted randomly Friday afternoon. “Do you want to?”
Staring at her wide-eyed, unsure what to say, you merely shrugged. Why was everyone so focused on the two of you getting married? You only started dating a few months ago!
Tilting her head to the side with a little smirk, Sarah replied, “That’s not a ‘no’.”
She was getting to be as bad as your dad and Tommy.
“You could be my stepmom! I always wanted one since I didn’t get to have a regular mom.”
Despite Sarah’s cheerfulness at the idea, your heart ached for all the real mom-related experiences she didn’t get to have. You knew exactly how that felt. If marrying Joel wasn’t already something you hoped for in the future, it would be after hearing Sarah expressing her desire for a stepmom, for you as a stepmom.
Sarah kept talking, while you lost yourself in thought.
Would you be a good stepmom?
God, you hoped so.
You never had one, JB chose to never get too serious with anyone after your mom, but you heard enough horror stories from your friends about their own stepmoms through the years. It sounded like a thankless job. But all the people you knew with stepparents had both birth parents still in their lives, so maybe your experience would be different.
The late bell chimed, drawing you out of your ever-spiraling thoughts.
“Come on, nugget. Let’s get you home,” you said, pushing thoughts of marriage and step parenthood to the farthest recesses of your mind.
“If you’re not gonna marry my dad, could you at least move in with us? It would be so great if you lived with us!”
Jesus fucking Christ in a handbasket. This kid sure knew how to keep you on your toes.
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Leaning over the bar top with hunched shoulders and an aching back, Joel picked at the label on the beer bottle. He didn’t often visit the bar after work, not since Sarah came into his life, but he finally had some extra money and felt like treating himself. You stopped letting him pay you months ago, when the two of you became more to each other than just babysitter and boss, and he stashed that money away each week, saving it for what he didn’t know.
At his side, Tommy carried on about some chick he met a few weeks ago. A pretty attorney who was way out of his league and already turned him down twice. Like a dog with a bone, Tommy showed no signs of giving up yet.
“You better be careful, brother. She may get a restraining order against you if you don’t take it easy,” Joel said, voice a rich rumble.
Tommy waved him off with a chortle. “Oh please. She’s loving it. Chicks like that like being pursued.”
“If you say so.” Joel didn’t know this woman or what she liked, but he knew for a fact that you would hate it if a guy relentlessly pursued you after turning him down, not once, but twice. He smiled at the thought of you kicking a guy like that in the fucking balls to prove that you were very much not interested.
He full on laughed at the thought of you kicking his little brother in the balls, causing Tommy to glance sideways at him.
“What’s so funny, huh?”
“Nothin’,” Joel grumbled, clearing his throat. Thoughts of you continued to invade his mind, just like they always did. You were always on his mind, and he loved it. If only you were always in his bed… Joel cleared his throat. “Hey, uh. How do you know if it’s too early to ask a girl to move in?”
Tommy groaned. “Why you always askin’ me this shit? How am I supposed to know? I have less actual relationship experience than you do.”
“Who else am I supposed to ask, huh? JB? Don’t imagine that’d go over too well,” Joel replied with a defeated shrug, but Tommy conceded the point.
“You need more friends, man.” Clearing his throat, Tommy gave it a moment’s thought. “Well, the way I see it, you love her, and she loves you, everyone knows it, and JB and Sarah are both happy for the two of you. Moving in together seems like the logical next step, right?”
Joel nodded, still uncertain.
“Only the two of you can know if the pace is right. Seems to me like you both waited long enough for the right one to come along. You’ve both been through some shit, why waste any more time?”
Damn, when did his little brother become so insightful?
“Alright, I get your point. Do you think she’ll say yes if I ask?” As secure as he was in your love for each other, Joel still floundered a bit at each new step in the relationship department.
“I dunno, brother. You’re just gonna have to grow a pair and find out.”
“Fuckin’ grow a pair,” Joel grumbled, punching Tommy in the arm, hard.
The pair bickered through another round, like brothers do, before calling it an evening. Eager to see you and Sarah, Joel didn’t want to waste away the evening in the bar with Tommy. As they walked out to their trucks, Tommy stopped Joel with a hand on his shoulder.
“Listen, brother. In all seriousness, I think she’ll say yes, so just ask, ok?”
Joel nodded his thanks and confirmed plans for watching the game at his place on Sunday, before climbing into his truck. The trip home didn’t take long, and for that Joel was grateful. His back ached after a busy week of hard labor followed by an hour sitting hunched over the bar. He’d kill for a massage.
The house was quiet when he walked in, no sign of you or Sarah on the ground floor. Kicking off his work boots and dropping the truck keys onto the hook near the door, Joel slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor.
Light flooded into the hall from Sarah’s bedroom, the sound of giggles and low voices echoing in the air. He moved slowly, quietly, until he could just peek around the door jamb. You sat on Sarah’s bed, the little girl perched in front of you, as you braided her wiry curls.
The sight melted Joel’s insides into a gooey puddle.
This. This was exactly what he wanted to come home to everyday.
He had to ask you to move in.
Just as he straightened up with a silent groan, ready to enter the room, Sarah’s sweet little voice left him frozen in place.
“I think you’d make the best stepmom.”
“This again,” you griped playfully. “You do, huh? Why?”
Was this something Sarah brought up before? Joel held his breath, waiting for Sarah’s response.
“Because you love my dad and you love me, you’re always kind even when things go wrong, you’re smart, and you like spending time with me. But most of all, because you do the things a mom does even though you’re not my mom and you don’t have to.”
He caught your gasp even though you tried to hide it from Sarah. You were as affected by Sarah’s heartfelt, innocent confession as he was. His adorable, sweet little girl knew you’d make a great stepmom and he agreed with all her reasons. If possible, he fell further in love with you in that moment after seeing you through his daughter’s eyes.
“Well, you’re right, nugget. I do love you and your dad, and I hope that one day, when the time is right, I can be your stepmom. Until then, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing, ok? I’ll still love you to pieces even without the official title.”
You choked out the words, on the verge of tears, and Joel felt his own eyes begin to water. Unable to bear it any longer, he swept through the doorway and pulled you both against his chest in a big bear hug. His precious girls. He loved you both more than words could express.
“Daddy! You’re squeezing too tight! Imma burst!” Sarah shrieked with laughter as he tossed her onto the bed and began tickling her with one hand, his other still holding your close.
“Did you…” Your eyes searched his, a hint of worry hiding in their depths, and Joel grinned, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.
“I heard it all,” Joel confirmed, confidence bolstered knowing you wanted to marry him at some point. Conveying every feeling held in his heart through his eyes, he added, “Move in with us. Please.”
Your eyes flicked back and forth between his, searching for confirmation. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, darlin’.”
The three of you celebrated with ice cream after you agreed to move in with them before putting Sarah to bed. By then, Joel’s back ached something fierce and you offered to use the message gun he forgot he had.
“Lay face down on the bed, my love,” you directed, watching with adoration as he tugged the shirt over his head, jeans hanging low on his hips. The muscles rippled in his arms and back as he settled on the soft mattress. “Ready?”
“Yes,” Joel murmured, huffing when you climbed over him to straddle his ass.
Turning on the massage gun, you put it on the middle setting and pressed the ball against the flesh of his traps. Even through the device, you could feel how tight those muscles were. It must be where he held his tension. Over the next half hour, you worked the massager over his back, soaking in the grunts that bordered on pain and relief. Somewhere along the way, the groans turned pleasurable, and Joel rolled onto his back, leaving you to straddle his thighs as the bulge in his jeans grew.
Joel’s hands moved to undo the button on his jeans, but you batted his hand away with a mischievous grin. With wide, wondrous eyes, he watched you adjust the setting on the massager and run it along the seam of his pants.
“Oh fuck,” he hissed, cock twitching with interest at the vibration. “Don’t stop.”
Hands gripping your hips, he bucked up into the delightful buzz of the massager, a steady stream of moans falling from his lips as the vibrations spread from his balls upwards to the head of his cock. Fuck, if it felt that good through his jeans, how good would it feel directly on his cock?
“Do you want me to increase the speed setting?” you purred, pressing the massager harder against him.
“Oh God, fuck. Yes… ungh. Please.” The words fell from his lips in a series of whimpers as you adjusted the settings. Within moments, he moaned a bit too loudly and came in his pants. You didn’t let up on the pressure though, the vibration drawing out his orgasm until every last drop of his load was blown and his body nearly convulsed with the overstimulation.
Chest heaving, he watched you switch off the massager and run your fingers along the large wet spot on his jeans, his cock twitching tiredly in response.
“That was fucking sexy,” you murmured, enthralled with the mess you just made of him.
“Yeah? Lemme see that thing. Think it’s my turn now, pretty girl.”
Tbc
Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx
@pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr
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@ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby
@deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx @skysmiller @missladym1981
@marirxse @lizzie-cakes @tynakub
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strniohoeee · 4 months ago
Note
chris has a fat crush on reader but since he's scared of his feelings he just teases her / mistreats her bc he won't accept the fact that he has a crush but nick puts him in his place
Blue Flats
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Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader
Synopsis: Chris always had a thing for teasing Y/N, but what happens when he takes it too far? Annoyed by his actions she vowed to never speak to Chris again, but will it change when all that was done is forgiven? 👤
Warnings⚠️: None, this is lowkey enemies to lovers if you SQUINT. I kind of loved this one had me giggling and what not ☝🏽🤓. Hope you enjoy babesss🫶🏽
Song for imagine: There Goes My Baby- The Drifters
There goes my baby
Moving on down the line
Wonder where, wonder where, wonder where
She is found
Most 20 year old men would say their biggest fear is something stupid like crashing their new car, or getting a parking ticket. But for some reason Chris’ only fear was you. Well that sounds…. Scary? He liked you alot, well actually that was an understatement. A day without you was like a year without rain.
He yearned to see your smile light up a room, and to hear your annoying laugh that somehow made his heart burst with joy. Fighting back a smile every time he saw you or anytime your name was mentioned. He was scared of commitment and was scared of ruining things with someone he liked so much.
Everyday was a constant battle that started many years ago. For a long time Chris hated you, he found you annoying and anal about everything. A goody who was scared of the outside world. Constantly teasing you with his friends like throwing pebbles at you when you would walk by. To say Chris was an asshole was an understatement.
Flashback
“Chrissss stop it” Y/N yelled as she played a very unwanted game of tug-o-war with Chris for her shiny blue ballet flats
Danging them above her head, as he was surprisingly taller than her at his 10 year old age.
“Or what? Going to cry to mommy?” He asked her tauntingly as his friends laughed behind him
“You’re being so mean to me” The young girl replied hurt and mainly embarrassed by the crowd now surrounding them
“Snitches get stitches” He replies lifting the shoes higher
“You spit gum in my hair! I had every right to taddle to your mom” She squeaked as she jumped to attempt and snatch her shoes from his grasp
“No one likes you anyways” He replies pushing her away
“Just give me my shoes” She replies as tears threatened to spill from her eyes
“Since you want them so bad then get them” He states as he chucks them over his shoulder into a puddle of brown water
Y/N’s beautiful blue flats completely destroyed by Chris’ careless actions
As the crowd cleared out, Y/N looked over at Chris as she wiped her now dirty hands across her face to clear her tears out.
“I hate you Chris, I never want to see you again” She replied running home with her dirty shoes in her hands
Flashback over
His mind often went to that day. He couldn’t fathom the idea of liking you because you know girls had cooties at that age. So instead he teased you in hopes that you would think it was funny and would catch on.
However he should’ve known that wasn’t the case as you were a very sensitive person since you could open your eyes. Constantly kicking himself over the whole ordeal. Except in Sophomore year of high school when his crush made his heart feel like a tight rubber band ready to snap.
He had to talk to you and clear all this up, or any chance with you would be doomed. So when he approached you and you actually treated him like a normal human being, he felt even worse. Wincing at the cringey apology he decided was right, he felt an instant weight off his shoulders when the words “it’s water under the bridge” left your lips.
Like a record scratch, a pause in time, a slo mo from a cheesy rom com. His eyes slowly blinked as you smiled at him. Patting his shoulder and offering him a term of endearment. That changed his feelings towards you even more. Even after what he did to you, you had still been nice to him.
So as you walked away in those blue ballerina flats that were oh so similar to the ones from when you were a kid. He only had one thought in his mind…..” I have got to get her”
Yet as the both of you got close, not by choice might I add. Nick and Y/N had became best friends in junior year, so he always found his way to be near the girl. You would think he tried his best to ask you out.
But nope, instead he continued to tease you and mistreat you. Often bantering as you both crossed each others path. And even with their fame they stood friends with the flourishing girl. Splitting time between LA and Boston.
As they got more fame though they rarely came back to Boston as much as they used to. However it was Fourth of July which meant they’d be back in town. And lucky for Chris this meant sleepovers with you…. Well more like sleepovers with Nick, but he would still find a way to shimmy himself in and tease you.
Even while in LA if you and Nick were on the phone he’d waste no time throwing a jab at you. Nick often puts himself on mute to curse Chris out. Something you found funny and just the slight laugh Chris would hear would have him on cloud 9. He would even comment under your instagram posts. Many foolish boyish comments that had the young girl blushing and giggling.
Sliding into the island chair in his mom’s kitchen he grabbed a few chips and shoved them in his mouth. His mom is cooking some pasta in preparation for the fourth of July party that had just begun. Most of their close family and friends in their yard talking and laughing over the music playing. Their block is full of young kids running around and laughing, chasing each other with water guns and playing tag.
“Chris don’t spoil your appetite sweetheart” His mom stated as she handed a pan of food over to her friend to take outside
“Yeah Chrissy poo don’t mess up your appetite” Matt came in mocking him
“Beat it asshole” Chris replied shoving Matt’s hand off his shoulder
Rushing in the back door was Y/N.
Sliding around the island
“Is there anything I can help you with?’ She asked their mom
“Oh no sweety I’m all good here, thank you” She replied as she strained the pasta
“If you do need any help do ask” She says smiling at Mary Lou
“Still a brown noser even out of school” Chris states tossing a chip in his mouth
“At least she asked me if I needed help unlike you, so knock it off” Mary states looking over at Chris with a stern face
Rolling his eyes, he took a sip of his pepsi as Y/N smirked at him
“Hey, do you happen to know where Nick is?” She asked their mom
“Actually I don’t, but feel free to search the house for him” She replies to the girl
“I am shocked you don’t know where he is, you practically live up his ass” Chris replies sticking his tongue out at Y/N
“Real mature Chris’’ His mom states as she turns around and give him the stern mom look
“You better apologize to Y/N right now” She states turning her back to him
“What it was just-” but he was soon cut off
“Now! Christopher” She states sternly
Scoffing and rolling his eyes, he obliges and says he’s sorry
“Apology accepted Christopher” She replies sticking her tongue out at him. She knew he hated being called by his first name.
Sliding out of the kitchen Y/N soon disappeared to some part of the house to retrieve Nick.
That whole night consisted of Y/N and Chris bantering. Spitting watermelon seeds down each others shirts, Chris tripping her, and even pushing her into the pool ‘accidentally’
Now in the kitchen his parents made him clean up the kitchen with Y/N because they couldn’t take the childish behavior. They wanted them to talk it out and come back out once all issues were resolved.
“Why are you such an asshole?” She suddenly asks him as he poured himself something to drink in his red solo cup
“Am not” He states sipping on his pepsi
“After the childhood bullying from you. You would think you would have changed” She replies spraying down the counter and cleaning it
“I was a child and you take things too serious” He replied looking over at her
“And you are 20, so the stupid teen boy bullshit should have ended” She says slamming the counter drawer shut
“It’s all harmless my god you are still so anal” He replied drying the dishes
“So do you just like hate me?” She asks the boy
This causes him to get nervous, grabbing his drink and sipping it slowly he takes a while to answer.
“No, but you’re just easy to pick on” He states, screwing his eyes shut he mentally kicks himself in the head for that.
Scoffing at him she threw the rag down
“How mature.. You haven’t changed much Chris” She says rolling her eyes at him
“And neither have you, still a cry baby” He says shrugging his shoulders
What the fuck was he doing? Was all he kept thinking. Why was he being such a dick? Subconsciously pushing her away out of fear.
“I should’ve listened to Elena Sophomore year of high school” She states harshly as she begins to walk out the kitchen
“Yeah? And what amazing advice did two face Elena give?” He asks her
“To never forgive you for your actions because you’ll always stay the same… a bully” She replies shaking her head and storming off
Slipping right past Nick, sniffling as she wiped her eyes. Avoiding contact with him and heading out their front door
“Hey Y/N-” Nick began as his eyes followed you out the front door. Not getting to finish his sentence before you were out the front door.
Storming into the kitchen, to say he was shocked that Chris was in there was an understatement.
“What did you do now?” Nick asked Chris, watching as his eyes stared into his red solo cup
“Nothing” He replied guilty as hell
“Y/N practically ran out our door crying, so you must have done something to upset her” He says
“Crying?” Chris asks shaking his head
“You are such a moron. You need to come to your senses and stop being a complete dick. You have the biggest crush on Y/N, and your actions are pushing her far away. She likes you a lot too, but she will not stick around much longer for this cringey childlike behavior.” Nick states jamming his pointer finger onto the counter
“I’m scared Nick, what if I mess things up. You know how scared of commitment I am” Chris replied looking up at his brother
“If you don’t fix this now yall’s relationship will forever be fucked” He states
“I don’t know what to do” Chris exclaims
“Talk to her and apologize for being an asshole” He says getting frustrated with his younger brother
“I know, but what do I even say?” He asks his brother
“I don’t know, but what I do know is that your answer isn’t at the bottom of that cup, so put it down and go make it up to her.” Nick states as he walks to their back door
“Shit! You’re right” Chris states snapping out of it
Placing the cup on the counter Chris rushes out the front door. Locking eyes with the back of your head. You were sitting on the curb in front of their house.
Reluctantly he walked down the steps and approached you. Slowly sitting down he looked over at you.
“Hey” he stated as he sat
Looking over at him, Y/N rolled her eyes and straightened her posture
“Here to bully me some more?’ She asks him
“What? no…no “ He states furrowing his eyebrows
“So then what do you want?” She asks rudely
“I want to apologize” he replies looking over at her
“Well don’t say it if you don’t mean it” Y/N states
“Well I truly am sorry for everything I’ve ever done. Nothing I’ve ever said about you is true. I've been a complete asshole since I was 10. And I’m aware of it. And I’m so glad you forgave me in high school because…..because….”
But Chris suddenly stopped his ramble, he couldn’t form his next sentence. It became all too real as he looked into your eyes. Yours were searching for an answer and he was slowly panicking inside.
Its like those scenes in a movie where the main character is experiencing something traumatic and everything around them slows down and you only see the panic start to grow in their eyes. And their heartbeat quickens. Well yeah that was Chris right now.
But everything his brother just told him shot at his brain like speeding arrows. Piercing his memory with what just took place.
“Because I LIKE YOU, and I have always liked you since we were kids. And the moment you forgave me in Sophomore year all I could think about was getting you to be mine. But I’m an idiot because I’m so scared of commitment. I’m scared of ruining something that’s good and hurting not only myself but you as well. So I thought pushing you away and teasing you would be better. Because even if you did hate me you’d always be around for Nick and I’d always have my chance to slither in and annoy you. Because you’re the only person I want to spend my life with. And I know I’ve been a piece of shit to you for basically our whole lives, but I wish I could show you how I see you. You’re breathtakingly gorgeous, and you’re funny, and kind, and very smart. Your smile lights up a whole room and your laughter fills me with happiness. And it’s like…it’s like this love I have for you is bottling up in my chest and it’s like a rubber band ready to snap. And I guess… I guess I’m just….im just too scared to have admitted that to you a long time ago. So once again I’m sorry and if you hate me I get that; so just say the words and I’ll leave” He states never breaking eye contact with you
“I do… I do hate you” Y/N responds and his heart sinks to his stomach. Like a punch to the face, but to say he deserved this was a severe understatement
“I hate you because…. How could you wait so long to tell me those things? That you like me and that you think all those wonderful things about me?” She responds looking into his eyes for a deeper answer
“Christopher I have liked you since the day you cut my pigtails in second grade and I even liked you when you destroyed my favorite blue flats. It actually hurt me that I still liked you. So when you came to me in sophomore year, basically asking for forgiveness, I thought forgiving, you would be the doorway to you, asking me out or even telling me how you truly feel” Y/N states as Chris’ eyes saddened once more
“ and I’m sorry I wish I was able to man up and tell you this before, but I was so scared so scared of your reaction and so scared of losing you but then I realize doing this actually pushed you further” He responded as he scooted closer to the young girl
“I like you a lot Chris” she responded as she looked deeper into his blue eyes
“And I like you a lot Y/N” he responded leaning in closer
And before you know it the young attractive pair had shared a loving and passionate kiss. A kiss outlined by the sparkles of the fireworks in the sky. His hand caressing her cheek as large fireworks blew up around them. The light casting a colorful reflection against them.
Making them fall deeper in love with one another. Who knew that it would be those damn blue ballerina flats that would have haunted him forever?
The End
Boy do my fingers hurt from typing away on this laptop. I don’t know I kinda fuck with this one 🤭. Thank you all once again for the support. I LOVE YALL SOOO MUCH 🥺🖤🖤
-J💅🏽
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tiredofthehumanlife · 1 month ago
Text
Oh baby my baby you're in your seventies and can't beat the dementia allegations
Can you say "Jesus Christ ell could you make a longer tilte"? And I'll tell you yes I could've but I didn't for your comfort you're welcome btw
Barbie dolls: Five Hargreeves x gn!reader
Word: 2.9k
Summary: uh right so you were with five during the apocalypse and then it's like set in season 2 but you like forgot all about your life and shit and five findz you and yada yada it's cute I think
Warnings: I said you were born is 2006 BUT IT MAKES SENSE I DID MATH FOR THIS OKAY OKAY YOU GUYS ARE THE SAME AGE, I made a timeline if you need it, you're married to him, five makes a half joke Abt you being an escapee from the insane asylum, it's a lil sad bc Five loves you and you don't even remember him but whatcha gonna do?, you ogle a stripper/burlesque dancer I KNOW THEY AREN'T THE SAME BUT LEAVE ME ALONE I DODNT EVEN KNOW HOW TO DRIVE, five ogles a stripper/burlesque dancer, open ended ending bc I got tired of writing about a season we've all already watched, that's it I think
Something has always felt off. You couldn’t remember anything before five months ago. There were faces around town that made you tilt your head because you were sure you knew them. Even the people you lived with hadn’t met you before five months ago. They found you standing on the sidewalk down some road, looking around like you’d never even seen a town before. They let you in. You got a bed and a roof all for free. They were taking care of you out of the goodness of their heart. You didn’t have the guts to not give them anything back so you got a job within your second month of living there. 
It was a fine job. You worked in a diner. It wasn’t anything crazy. It had milkshakes and a fine paycheck. It had red booths and a box pattern on the floor that you pretended was hopscotch when it hit a lull. Sometimes customers were rude but you spit in their food sometimes so you considered the world balanced. It was just a diner in the simplist terms. Nothing more. Nothing less. 
Something about it all just seemed off. You’d get songs stuck in your head that no one knew. You’d get Deja vu about things you couldn’t place. You’d see people stare at you like they knew you and when you walked by they seemed sad. You didn’t know who they were. You’d get this feeling like you missing something. You were homesick for a home you couldn’t remember. 
You were currently listening to your coworker telling you about his day as you scribbled into your server pad. You had a flower in the bottom corner and you were starting a new spiral. The bell above the door rang. You kept listening to your coworker. 
“Sit anywhere you’d like and we’ll be right with you.” You said, eyes still on the pad. Your coworker paused his spiel. You looked up from the pad to see what made him stop. A man who appeared to be your age walked straight across the diner floor. He was in a school uniform that you didn’t recognize and his eyes were set on you. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he walked to the counter in front of you. He sat in the barstool right across from you and smiled at you. He looked you up and down before sighing. 
“Hi.” He said it like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. It sounded like he was seeing an old friend again. His face gave you that same sick stomach feeling. You tilted your head, staring at his face to see if you could place it. Nothing. 
“What can I get you started with?” Your coworker said, picking up your slack. The man glanced over at your coworker and rolled his eyes before looking at you again. 
“Have we met before?” You asked, leaning onto the counter to give him your full focus. His smile fell a little, sitting back. He gestured to his chest subconsciously. 
“You don’t- you don’t remember me?” He asked, looking hurt. You shook your head. 
“No, I had a mishap five months ago. I can’t rember anything before that, so if we’ve met I’m sorry I’ve forgotten.” You said, shoving your server pad into your apron. The man’s eyebrows furrowed. He hummed. 
“That is horrific news.” He muttered. You shrugged. 
“Yeah.” 
“Well, I’m not sure what to do now.” He said, looking down at the counter. 
“You could order and I’ll give you my number before you leave so you can call me and maybe reinform me?” You said. The man looked up and nodded. He sighed and tapped the counter. 
Days later he was standing in the bedroom that was temperaily yours with a blackboard behind him. He turned to the blackboard writing something at the top. He pulled back and let you read it. ‘Your life for the past 50 years’ You snorted at his joke, looking over at him to see if he was laughing too. Your smile fell at the very serious look in his eyes. You tilted your head to the side. He pressed his lips together and shrugged. 
“Right, first things first. You’re in your seventies.” He said, clapping his hands together. You stared at him, realizing you might have let a crazy man into your home. 
“Right. You can tell by my loafers and shaw.” You muttered. He shrugged. 
“Second thing my name is Five.” You actually laughed at that. You had officially let a crazy person into your home. You leaned back on your bad, staring at the ceiling to laugh harder. 
“Course I’m seventy, and your name is Five. What’s next you’re going to tell me you’re a time traveler?” You joked, snorting again at your own joke. “Five” avoided your eyes and sighed. You gasped. 
“You are going to tell me you’re a time traveler.” You said, staring at him in shock. He turned back to the blackboard. His hand shot out, making a line across the board. “Five" drew a small vertical line at the start. You heard the chalk writing and then he pulled back. On top of the vertical line was ‘Birth (2006)’. Your eye twitched. 
Hours later the board was full to the max, Five was breaking a sweat, and you felt like your head was going to explode. You stood from the bed, pacing back and forth as Five pulled off his top blazer and rolled up his sleeves. He really was selling the substitute teacher look now. You huffed and faced him. 
“So just to recap, We got stuck in the apocalypse for 45 years. Then we were hired by basically an assassination team. Then we time traveled back to the ‘present’ which at the time was 2019. Then we didn’t stop the apocalypse and time traveled again so we didn’t all die. Your time travel shit knocked my memories out of my ear or whatever. We got trapped in the 60s and you just got here. There are 5 other people in this town who are also time travelers. You and your siblings have superpowers. And there’s another apocalypse coming. Is that right?” You said, counting on a finger at each new event. Five hummed, tapping the chalk against the side of his face and turning back to the board. He looked at the chalkboard covered in white lines. It was honestly hard to look at and you were curious as to how either of you were still standing up right. Five clicked his tongue. 
“Oh! Also, we’ve been married for decades. Coming up on 36 years or something along those lines. It’s a little hard to keep track with all the time travel but once I get my hands on a calendar I can let you know specifics.” Five said, adding another note to the board. You stared at him for a moment. He turned around and gave you a small smile. 
“Well, isn’t that wild? What a life huh? You know not to be rude but if all of this is true, and that’s a major if, why would I want to go back to a life like that? I mean running from apocalypses, apocalypsi? Ends of the world. Actually, I'm an assassin. I know it’s a lame life but I think I’d rather work at the diner.” You said, sitting down on the edge of the bed again. Five chewed on his lip, setting the piece of chalk down. He settled next to you sighing on his way down and making you believe the 70-year-old spiel a little more. 
”If you want to stay here, you can. I won’t stop you. I’m not going to force you to come with me. I just want to remind you that your life here would only last 10 more days.” He said. It was subtle and quiet but you heard the break in his voice at the end of his talk. You hummed and stared at the carpet. You looked over at him to see a dusty white patch on the side of his face. His head was dipped down like he was trying to hide the fact he was crying. You reached over and wiped the chalk off the side of his face. Five turned his head away from you, wiping at his eyes. When he faced you again you were holding out a tissue to him. He pulled back, staring down at the tissue. 
“Where’d you get that?” You scoffed, waving it at him. He snatched it out of your hand. 
“Stop asking me questions, I’m clearly in a fragile mental state. I just learned I’m 70 and married, it’s a lot to take in. Especially now that I know I have to help stop the end of the world for the second time apparently.” You muttered, looking back at the carpet. Even though when you first walked into the room you felt like you were going to throw up just looking at the color now you thought you might miss it. Five sat up. 
“You’re not staying?” He whispered, scared if he pulled his tone up you’d change your mind. 
“Well, I don’t know you. I used to. And when I did, I trusted you enough to marry you. And not divorce you for the thirty years after that. I think if I had my memories, I’d trust you enough to follow you to the end of the world.” You said. Five sighed and looked at your lips. You had no idea what it felt like to stare your lover in the eyes and see unrecognization staring back at you. You felt an awkward pain of ‘I don’t really care but I should’ hit your heart. You leaned back and reached your hand out. You awkwardly patted his shoulder. He pressed his lips together and nodded. 
“Yeah, it’s you. It’s still you.” He muttered before standing up. He held his hand out towards you. You looked between his face and hand, staying seated. 
“Right.” Five dropped his hand and spun around towards the door. He gestured over his shoulder to follow him. You looked at the chalkboard and assumed he didn’t care enough to fix it. You followed after him. 
“Where are we headed?” You asked once you were both halfway down the street from your temporary home. You should’ve asked earlier but you were focused on keeping pace with him. Five glanced at you from the corner of his eye. 
“Strip club.” He said blatantly. You clapped your hands together once. 
“Ah. What was I thinking? Of course, we’re going to the strip club. Perfect first date if you ask me.” You said, waving your arms in the air. As a lady in short heels and a blue dress walked past you, you spoke to her. “Where are you off to? We’re off to the strip club! I think I’ve associated myself with a madman!” You said, shaking your head around and throwing your hands up. Five reached back for you, pulling you away by your elbow. The woman looked at you both with disgust as she slowly walked backward away from you both. 
“So sorry. They’re an escape from the asylum. I’m taking them back now, pay it no mind.” Five said. He gave the woman a polite smile. You turned back to him gasping and holding your finger up. 
“That’s what the P in Marsha P. Johnson stands for!” You said, facing ahead again. “Oh, how I love that woman.” You muttered. Five kept his attention on the woman. 
“See? They’re making up historical figures. Cuckoo.” He waved his finger around next to his ear and faced the front again. You smacked his shoulder. He pulled you away faster, picking up his pace. 
Initially you thought he was kind of kidding when Five said you were going to a strip club. But you were now starting to realize you should stop assuming he’s joking about things. You sighed in the rather uncomfortable chair as you both sat near the stage. Your chairs were pressed together, by Five no less. The second you made it inside he was shoving a chair up against the other one, the armrests pressing into each other. You watched the lady on stage, wondering how much money she was making and wondering how hard burlesque would be to pick up. Five leaned over the arm of his chair, his hand hovering over his mouth as he spoke into your ear. 
“You know this isn’t our first date right? Not even a date really.” Five said, watching you intently as you turned your head to face him. You were so close you could easily count the number of hairs forming his peach fuzz on his face. You didn’t because that would be a waste of time but you could. You shrugged. 
“I mostly said it as a joke but yes I would assume our first date wasn’t to burlesque. Seeing as it was the apocalypse.” You said, shaking your head and looking back to the woman. You thought of dropping the conversation but knowing the specifics of your relationship would be so nice. 
“What was it though? For research.” You added an excuse like he didn’t fully know you were lying. Five shrugged and stared at the floor. 
“We had a table and chairs made out of these rocks we found. It was hard work getting it set up but we had an apocalypse dinner. Which basically consists of Twinkies and other food that cannot perish no matter how hard it tries. It was actually quite nice. We didn’t really have a whole lot of time to just be normal people so even just sharing a Twinkie over our rock tables felt refreshing. Our dates after that were really just us sharing the same dirt pile as our bed and keeping each other alive. Then when we got back to 2019 I actually took you for a half-decent date. We went out and got takeout from the greasiest place imaginable and ate it at my father's extremely expensive table.” When he spoke a smile met his face like an old friend. He kept his eyes on the floor because he knew even though you were sitting next to him you wouldn’t return the nostalgia ridden smile. 
“You really loved me. I can’t believe I just realized that because you talked about Twinkies.” You said, looking at the floor like it could feel your surprise too. Five hummed. 
“I love you, not loved. It’s not in the past.” Five said, staring at you to make sure you saw the severity. You furrowed your eyebrows when your stomach swarmed. You raised an eyebrow. 
“I wish I could tell you I love you back but I don’t know you in that way. I don’t even remember your favorite color.” You said. Five hummed and rubbed the side of your cheek with his thumb. 
“It’s okay. I know you love me, even if you can’t remember it. I’m almost entirely certain we fall in love in every single timeline. Not to mention we’ve had plenty of time together. I know you inside and out. I know the color of your 13th birthday cake. I know what you look like when your body has aged 50 years. I know all I need to know about you to love you till the day I die and onward. You know these things about me but they’ve settled like dust in your brain. Someone just needs to kick it up and you’ll know my favorite color again. You’ll know what it was like to share a Twinkie over a rock table.” Five said, his thumb dipping down to your neck. He pulled his hand away, holding his head up with his hand instead. 
“How could you say something so nice while a woman’s tits are shaking on a stage next to you?” You asked, glancing at the now mostly naked woman on the stage. You looked back to Five. His eyes were fully set on you. His head was tilted in a way that made you think he was thinking of you before you lost every memory. He pressed his lips together. 
“I’m looking at someone gorgeous, why would I waste my time letting my vision slip to her breasts.” Yeah, Five might feel that way, but you don’t. You looked past him, dropping your jaw when you saw the move she made to slip her stocking off. With your dropped jaw, Five turned his head too. You both stared at her as she started to lose more clothes. A man stood behind Five’s chair. You reached out to Five, hoping he was down for conflict. The man leaned down towards Five’s ear. He whispered something and looked over at you. He smiled and gave you a light wave. You awkwardly looked around your surroundings, staring at the floor again. 
“They lost their memory. It’s okay though, I have a theory it’ll come back. Family meeting on the corner of Commence and Knox by the way, today at 10 pm.” Five said before standing up. 
“Come on, love. We have four other people to find.” Five said. Snatching your hand off the chair and dragging you away. He must’ve realized he was holding your hand by the time you left the building, dropping your hand immediately.      
“She was about to lose her pants.” You said. Five smiled but pretended he didn’t, sighing and shaking his head. You snorted and followed after him. 
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pandorascrush · 2 years ago
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Neteyam fucking his wife's bsf aster finding out his wife cheated (although it's for revenge ge can't help but think abt how long he's been wanting to do it)
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MY TURN
ALL WORK IS MY ORIGINAL WORK! I DON’T OWN ANY CHARACTER!
PAIRING: NETEYAM X OMITIKAYA READER
WARNINGS: nsfw(18+), smut, minors dni, clit play, fingering, fem!bodied reader, omitikaya!reader, dry humping, aged up neteyam, degradation kink, squirting,creampie, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dry humping, pet names 
NOTES: In this fic, and probably in any with Neteyam, he will be aged up. I don’t feel comfortable writing smut for Neteyam at his current age even if he is considered an adult at 15 in na’vi terms. This goes for any other character as well if I feel like they are too young. So he is aged up and so is the reader. So 18-19 age range for him. My song recommendation for this chapter is….  Dream Girl by Tanerelle <3 
➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵
You had been watching Neteyam from afar, ever since you were kids. Maybe it was due to the fact that he was the olo’eyktan’s son, or because he had grown up to be a strong warrior. He followed his father’s footsteps, even going so far as to mating with your best friend right away. You were jealous of course, you had wanted it to be you. You had been the one who had become his friend first, you had been the one who became a companion to his mother when it came to taking care of Tuk, you had been the one to heal him when he got minor cuts and scratches. So when you found out he mated to your friend your heart broke, and it broke even more when you soon found out she fell pregnant immediately after. You tried not to show it but anger bubbled in the pit of your belly, you were right there and he went for her. You simply congratulated her and tried forgetting about him. You soon found a pleasure mate for yourself, not wanting an actual mate anymore finding a good companion in Aewtx. He was a good warrior, a great hunter, and an amazing lover. You fucked Aewtx every time you could, when you hunted, when you were down by the stream, but still you could not find yourself to mate with him and he never pushed.
Everything was going fine until on a random morning when your friend came crashing into your mauri crying. You could not understand anything she said until the few words you did understand sent your head spinning.
“Neteyam found out Fazrru isn’t his!” She all but screamed in your face. You could feel your face contort in confusion.
“But how, you got pregnant right after mating?” You asked, your head still spinning.
“I was already pregnant y/n, we never made the bond, we just pretended we did so his father wouldn’t be upset.” She said as she calmed herself, now it all made sense. Why even though they were supposed to be mates, they never acted as such. You would catch Neteyam’s eyes wandering over your body, lingering on your breasts. He would also rub up close behind you, making sure you could feel his body against yours. Just thinking about all those moments made your face flush.
After she left, you decided to go find him at the spot you knew all. It was by the old shack you two would sneak off to as children. It’s where you two kissed for the first time, that’s why when he mated to your friend you were angry and confused, you thought that he had wanted you. And sure enough when you got there, there he was pacing around angrily. 
“Neteyam I have been looking for you.” You said as you slowly approached him trying to be cautious. At the sound of your voice he quickly whipped his head around, looking straight into your eyes. Without any words spoken he quickly walked towards you and gripped your face in one hand, while his other hand went to gently grip your throat.
“Did you know she wasn’t my kid! Did you know she was fucking Kamun all this time behind my back!” He yelled in your face while adding more pressure to the hand on your throat. You quickly shook your head no, you had no idea she had been doing all this behind his back.
“She barely told me this morning after you found them!” You let out weakly as your eyes went wide, tears pooling. Looking down at your wide tear filled eyes, the way your mouth formed an o shape, and the light red painting your cheeks filled him with a primal instinct. He took advantage of his height over you and pulled you in for a kiss, his hold loosening around your throat allowing you to breathe. The gasp you let out worked to his advantage as he slipped his tongue inside your open mouth, tasting you again after so many years. You quickly returned the kiss, slipping your own tongue into his mouth as you two gave into each other after so many years. He quickly began trailing wet, hot kisses down your throat nipping at your skin with his fangs lightly as he trailed down. He found your collarbone and began sucking, knowing he was going to leave marks for everyone to see. His hand went to your breast kneading them and pinching your nipples through your top as your hands went down to his loincloth, desperate to untie it. He quickly pulled his head up next to your ear whispering about all the things he was going to do to you.
“It’s only fair I fuck her friend if she’s been fucking mine behind my back for years.” He growled into your ear as his hands ripped off your top, followed by your loincloth. He threw them to the floor as you did the same, ripping off his loincloth finally freeing his hard cock. He quickly took you both to the ground, letting his body fall over yours spreading your legs wide for him. His head went down to your nipples again, rolling one by one in his mouth as his fingers went down to your pussy. He quickly swiped his thumb over your slit, searching for your clit and when he found it he began rubbing hard circles over your clit, making your squirm. You slipped one hand down and cupped his heavy balls giving them a light squeeze and tug, while your other hand pumped his cock, collecting the precum that beganleaking out of his swollen tip. He applied more pressure on your clit, rubbing fast and tight circles wanting to feel your cum over his hand. The feeling of his mouth sucking on your nipples and his fingers rubbing tight circles on your needy clit made you fall over the edge. You came biting down on his shoulder as you felt your legs shake, instinctively wrapping around his waist wanting more friction. As you came down from your high your hand came up to grip onto his shoulders. He took this chance and with one hand on his cock, he grabbed it from the base as he began sliding it over your wet cunt coating it with your slick. The feeling of his cock sliding over your clit began forming that familiar coil at the base of your belly as you bit down on your lip, not being able to take it anymore. 
“Please Neteyam, fill me with your cock.” You all but pleaded, as your hips began thrusting against his cock sliding over your clit having imagined this moment for years.
“Oh I am gonna fill you up, I'm gonna cum in you. Gonna make sure I put a baby in you that is mine.” He said heatedly in your ear as he began teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock. You couldn't take it anymore and grabbed his cock with your hand as you guided the tip to your entrance. You gave him one final look and he pushed him inside you, and he followed your lead and slowly slid inch by inch. When he finally bottomed out you could feel his heavy sack lay against your ass perfectly, as if it was always meant to be like that. You quickly gave a small thrust indicating for him to move and that’s all it took for him to start thrusting. He began by pulling out almost all the way, just slam back in you, causing your legs to tighten around his hips. He kept this hard rhythm of pulling out just to thrust back in, until your pussy clenching around him made him want more. He threw both of your legs over his shoulder and he began fucking you like a wild animal. The feeling of his veiny cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy was everything you had ever wanted. The slick collected from the both of you dripping down your ass, as his hips kept slamming into you. You couldn’t help but reach your hand down rubbing tight circles on your clit wanting to feel yourself cum again. You began to feel your legs twitch as the head of his cock slipped over that spongy part inside of you over and over again. You used your free hand to reach down and you began tugging on his balls, feeling his cock twitch inside of you, ready to cum. As you sped up the circles on your clit your pussy began clenching around him, sucking him in even more. The tight circles on your clit, his throbbing cock inside of you, and sounds of your wet pussy all threw you over the edge. You came with a cry, clenching around his cock as you felt his hips lose control and his cock twitch inside of you. With three final hard thrusts, he came immediately after you, biting down on your shoulder with his fangs. You felt his hot white cum coat your insides in thick ribbons of cum as it slowly began to drip out of you down your ass, as he slowed his hips. He slowly leaned back, kneeling in between your legs as he pulled you all the way back laying your thighs over his wrapping your legs around his waist, with his cock still deep inside of you. He put you at angle so that your hips were tilted up as he collected the cum that leaked out as rubbed your clit slowly causing you to shiver.
“You will give me a baby that’s mine.” Is all he said as he leaned down kissing your lips softly and you couldn't help but moan into the kiss in agreement. After all, this is all you had been waiting for.
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HERE YOU GO MY TOODIES!!!Ask and you shall recieve. As always leave feedback. TOODLES <3
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crybyemissamericanpie · 9 months ago
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Pops would fucking hate you - Felix Catton x Masc!Reader
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Pops would fucking hate you - Felix Catton x Masc!Reader
i had to rewrite this like 2 times,and i still dont like it but it is what it is
TW:Small fluff,Part-Nudity,Homophobia,Sexual theme meantions, cursing, smoking, meantion of alcohol,daddy issues(lol),overthinking
"My pops would fucking hate you"You humble out with a small smile,head layed on the cold wall,as you stare at the ceiling,feet slowly swinging in the air,sometimes hitting the bedframe, some old song playing in the background
"Oh really?Sounds a bit homophobic innit'?"Your boyfriend humbles back a small chuckle leaving his lips,as he tunes the tabs on his guitar which was in his lap
"that's probably the case"You sigh out,fidgeting with the half-smoked cig between your fingers
Your dad was never really the human rights guy,i mean he was a white middle aged cis straight man,he had no reason to be protesting and support as it doesn't affect him nor his family,or at least thats what he always said until,when you were 10 you and your guy best friend at the time were giggling about how would it feel like to be kissed,so you both find out with each other,it was just a small peck
And that would be just that but as your usual english walls,they were really fucking thin and your father in the other room could hear everything.he never told anyone or mention it to you,it was just the way he looked at you after you came in his room for a charger
The room falls silence for a moment,the guys voice on the record player starts again after instruments,not an awkward silence nor a comforting one.You put the cig between your lips and took a hit,feeling it go to your core,as you get goosebumps from the open window that none of you would bother closing,then you blew the smoke,out and watch it disappear into thin air
Felix stringing a few notes was the one who took you out of your own thoughts.”it doesnt matter,we fucking hate him either way”The boy snarks out,a small comforting smile on his face.This wasnt the first time you talked to Felix about your dad,you both went through the trauma dumping on the second date.You didnt know how to feel about your dad,i mean he was your father at the end of the day,and youve had mostly forgotten about him since you came to uni,but sometimes he would just appear in your mind.
“good point”You look at felix,his tender smile,make every girl and boy melt.It was definitely an experience dating the heartthrob of Oxford.He was new to long term relationships so of course sometimes you'd argue about some stupid girl flirting with him at the local pub and he didn't try to stop her or anything,maybe he was a bit right,maybe you could be a bit jealous,but he doesn't need to know that you kinda agree with him on that
“I think my parents wouldn't believe me if i told them that im dating you”said felix,stroking a few strings on his guitar,like he was about to sing a love song.”i mean like..not even me dating but like dating someone amazing like you”He says as he doesnt break his eye contact with the strings of the guitar,his smile could even be heard from his voice
“yeah sure”You chuckle a bit at his statement,not convinced at all.You take another blunt from the cig.”its true,they probably think that im having sex with girls right now”He says,as he sits up more,looking at you blowing the smoke out of the cig.”i mean..you were in the start of the term”You tease,with a small smirk,as you smear the cig on the glass cig dispenser,next to you on the small table
Felix scoffs,sassily”well that was at the start of the term,before i met you!”he says,both of his eyebrows perked up as he leaned a beat closer,then let himself fall back on the pillows which were leaned on the frame of the bed.
A smirk on your face as you see your boyfriend get a bit worked up”i cant argue with that”You choose to not tease him this time with it”I think my dad knows that im fucking a boy”You wonder,you knew that your dad.Felix hm’d in response,his attention on the guitar again
Silence fills between the two of you only the rain hitting the grass and the vinyls instruments filling up your ears,,as you look at the window,where the now very cold breeze was coming you see that it's raining,water coming on the edge of the window.felix's eyes follow your gaze and he puts the guitar next to you on the bed and gets up and closes the window,his shirt getting rain on it
You overthink a bit of what if he is now upset that you said that your fucking a boy,not actually dating one,Felix was sensitive despite his personality that he puts out,before you wanted to apologize he was taking his shirt off,his muscles beautiful,then he pulls his pants and boxer off in one go,grabbing a new pair of boxer which you guessed was his pajamas.its not like it was the first time you have seen him naked of course,but you cant help but admire everytime.
As Felix straightens up and you start”i'm sorry”You whisper out,hoping you wouldn't have to repeat it,felix looks puzzled”for what?”He asks his voice soft as he walks back to the bed putting the guitar next to his nightstand,sitting down next to you also laying his back against the cold wall
“for saying that i only have sex with you”You mumble out, staring at your socks,as you rest your chin against your knees,he was much more than that to you,much more that you couldn't even put it to words.you wanted to prove it and continue your words but when you would start Felix,puts his hand on your back,with a comforting smile”i know you didn't mean it that way”He says,his eyes glimmering at you,like you were a the last drop of water on planet earth and he have been thirsting for over 1 month
You can't help but smile at his words,making you feel better that you didn't offend him,he never liked when you over thinked.You straighten your legs,then hug him,burying your face in his bare chest,he wrapped his arms around your body,kissing the hair on your head,with a smile,you can feel his fingers drawing shapes on your clothed back.You look up at him,faces close that you could still feel the cheap beer of his lips
“i love you so much”He whispers,it was easy for him to say that,like it was the most simple words in the words,with no meaning behind them.”i want to have you for the rest of my life,have a family and move into a small farm house”He says,his brown eyes tickling,as he stares into yours,you can't help but chuckle as a big smile washes on your face”i know it's..like really early but i know,i feel it”Felix said.he had big plans,and you were one of them.
“i know…i hope too”You say,voice shooting as you give a small peck to his lips,then his lips falls onto yours for a longer kiss,and you don't hesitate to kiss back,lips pressed together as you were 2 pieces of a puzzle.
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lucystark12 · 4 months ago
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we might be witnessing something
obviously we all know how much i love byler, and what im about to say is going to sound like “gen z walking away from the white house on fire with hayloft by mother mother playing” but i have to speak my truth here- i think byler being canon will go FAR beyond the fandom and casual watchers of stranger things. we might literally be the early adopters of a pop cultural phenomenon that could go down in history as one of the most important moments in media history.
stranger things is a really bizarre phenomenon in the grand scheme of things, because it is SO famous. it’s popularity has been compared to shows like game of thrones, but it goes even beyond that, because EVERYONE watches it. i’ve been watching it since i was eleven. my mom watches it. my uncles watch it. my best friend watches it. my grandma watches it. it’s viewership is so wide because there are so many aspects of it that appeal to so many different people. the impact this show has sent a song released forty years ago to number one on the charts practically overnight and it STILL plays on the top 40 radio to this day.
think about american politics as they are right now- we’re bearing witness to one of (if not THE) most important election in american history. the difference between trump and kamala is the difference between potential dystopia and nuclear fallout and peace and progressiveness. if trump wins, he will pull all of our aid from ukraine, letting russia push forward into western europe, and we all know what happens when a country tries to push into western europe. trump’s agenda in project 2025 imposes potential laws that will take us back hundreds of years in lgbtq+ rights, rights for people of color, and women’s rights. this election has caused a huge amount of dread and fear in the american people especially as the days push on. and what do people historically cling to in moments of fear like this? art.
think about music during the vietnam war, movies like “red dawn” during the cold war, or mccarthyism during world war two. when people are afraid of the real world, they tend to turn to popular media for escapism. we’re already seeing it, as ridiculous as it sounds, in things like brat summer or the debate edits to chappell roan songs. it might not seem like it’s happening because everything about it is different today in the digital age versus sixty years ago when tvs were boxes, but it is. this is only the beginning. and with the release of the next stranger things season, it’s possible that it could only grow more.
picture this: it’s next july. trump has been sworn in as 47th president of the united states and is six months into his second term. there’s already talks of him overturning obergefell v. hodges (the supreme court ruling that gave us gay marriage), there’s now a nationwide abortion ban, and political opponents of his are slowly seeming to disappear and go inactive. but hey! the 2020’s most beloved tv show is airing its last season this week.. it’s an easy way for us all to feel nostalgia about a time (wether that be the 80s or summer 2019) when our country was progressing forward instead of so drastically backwards as it is now, or to just watch a cool sci-fi show with one of the highest viewerships of any show ever, second only to game of thrones. everyone is turning on their tvs at midnight to watch these new episodes and suddenly- the main couple consisting of the two main characters of the show breaks up, the boy leaving the girl for his childhood best friend, whom he has been in love with for years but been forced to ignore because of the way society views gay people?
and everyone is seeing this, even 40+ y/o homophobes who watch the show for the nostalgia factor and never suspected a thing. the public is outraged. fox news is going on about the gay agenda. but the shock of the news is turning heads. people are changing their minds because… people being gay actually hasn’t only been a thing for the last ten years??! gay people might not actually be lesser humans? ANYBODY CAN BE GAY? what is happening! we know everyone watches this, so people of all backgrounds all across the world and more specifically the country are reacting to this in different ways. but no matter how you look at it, everyone is talking about it. it’s all over everyone’s for you page, SNL is parodying it, anderson cooper is talking about it on CNN, trump is denouncing it on twitter, there’s a push for it to be banned in florida.
suddenly, the democrats are picking up on this, because isn’t this everything we’ve been fighting for this whole time put at the forefront of a mainstream show? this is forcing everyone to confront the implications of having a gay ship be the focal point of a show with the viewership of stranger things, and the democratic party and it’s supporters pick up on this, turning it into a symbol and essentially a martyr of the party as a whole. whatever song (and you know there will be a song) that’s used in the scene where byler becomes official is immediately topping the charts. people are walking around wearing t shirts with byler quotes on them like we’re seeing now with the kamala brat t shirts. hundreds of people are influenced by it and we may even see an increase in support for politicians who advocate specifically for gay rights or are gay themselves.
this all happens because when people who are being spotlighted by pop culture speak out, everybody hears it. it’s the same reasoning behind why an endorsement from taylor swift could outright win kamala this election. a huge part of our population has quiet beliefs that they’re just waiting to dive into until somebody in mainstream media tells them that it’s a good idea. in making byler cannon, stranger things could be changing the trajectory of popular culture and american politics as a whole for years to come. it’s all about the domino effect. if people see this, all it does is open a gateway for other stories and conversations to happen, because something so outrageous as making byler canon during the early stages of project 2025 will turn the heads of every politically inclined person in america, from every maga cap wearing trucker to every blue haired barista, and when heads are turned things are changed.
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camille-lachenille · 8 months ago
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Like a god of old
For @cilil
At first, there is only darkness, like mist on a winter morning. Then there is a glow not unlike dawn piercing through clouds and Théoden blinks, surprised to be able to see. He takes a breath in, shocked not to hear his lungs rattle and feel his chest ache, before noticing he does not need to breathe anymore. He breathes in again anyway, relishing in the lack of pain. If this is death, Théoden thinks, it is a hundredfold better than his last years of life. Only then does he notice the presence beside him, just at the edge of his vision.
Careful, Théoden sits up, marvelling at how easy it is, and look at the being. He looks like an old man, in the dim light, yet his stature is strong and his face unlined by the years. Théoden peers at his face, half hidden in the shadows, and feels his breath hitch. “Father?” he asks quietly, for the man looks like Thengel as he was in his prime. Yet something is off.
The man smiles and his features shift just the slightest, and he bears now a face Théoden knows from countless carved statues and innumerable descriptions in songs. “In a way,” the likeness of Eorl the young says, voice deep as the woods. “I am you father as I am the father of your forefathers, of countless warriors and hunters from Ages past, Théoden Ednew son of Thengel.”
The man’s - no, the god’s - face shifts again, taking the appearance of a dark-haired Elf of noble bearing, and Théoden looks at him in awe. “Béma, my Lord,” he whispers in awe. “So I am well and truly dead, in the Halls of my Fathers…”
This last addition is mostly for him, more a whispered thought than anything else, but Béma still answers. “You are dead indeed, Théoden King, and your death was bold and glorious like few before you. But this is not the halls of your fathers, but the Halls of Mandos. This is but a step in jour journey. Come, walk with me.”
Stunned, Théoden grasps the god’s outstretched hand to help him stand. The motion is strangely fluid, the old ache in his hip gone as if his body is more thought than flesh. Of course he cannot feel pain, he muses, he is dead and his body must be a memory of sorts, an old image he clings to.
Béma leads Théoden through vast halls shrouded in mist, the place eerily silent for their feet do not make a sound on the ground. “I heard of your valour, son of Rohan,” Béma says almost conversationally. “I looked over you on the Tapestries and saw your fate. Be proud, for your end was not in vain and brought a new Age in its wake.”
“I was but an old man riding to his death in despair,” Théoden answers without thinking. He glances at the god walking beside him, and finds he is changed again. Gone is the noble Elflord, replaced by a tall and rugged hunter. Théoden thinks he sees shadows of antlers about his head. “I did my duty to my people after I let them suffer for too long.”
There is a silence before Béma speaks again. “You were despairing indeed, knew you were riding to your death, and yet you met it in your own terms. This demands no small amount of courage, Théoden King. I heard songs already comparing you to me, charging the enemy with fury and might…”
Théoden suddenly feels like a boy barely of age and ducks his head. “They mean no ill, Lord Béma,” he says almost bashfully. “And most certainly my deeds are made grander than they are.”
The god laughs, a deep, rumbling sounds that reminds Théoden of galloping hooves pounding the ground. “Old tales are made to be sung again and again, and I have no grudge against the bards likening you to me, son of Rohan. And I may even say that they are more flattering to me than you. For, you see, I am made for battle and blood, while you had to shape yourself for this role in pain and despair. And you turned this despair to rage, to strength to face your enemy head on in a way I will never be able to. Yes, you are strong, Théoden King, and worthy of all the songs that will be sung about you in the Age to come. But we reached the path you have to take now, I cannot go forward.”
Indeed, they stopped walking, and they are facing doors that look carved out of the very mist that bathe the place. Théoden runs his hand, calloused but smooth of any wrinkles, on the shifting shapes of the doors. He sees a child crying, a woman falling down a ravine, a king lying down to sleep, a woman with her babe in her arms closing her eyes. He breathes in, for the last time he knows, and look back at Béma.
“My Lord, I am honoured you took the time to lead me here,” he says with a bow of his head, so light without a crown resting on his brow.
“The honour was mine, son of Rohan. Go now, your time has come to take this road.”
Théoden closes his hand on the door handle, hesitate. Breathes out. Looks back at Béma once more.
“Your forefathers await you, Théoden King. They are proud of you,” the god says with a warm smile that remind Théoden of his mother’s smile.
Théoden nods at Béma, smiles back and open the doors.
Inspired by this post: https://www.tumblr.com/curiouselleth/746143860815740928/the-ghost-of-jrr-tolkien-rising-from-the
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ruinedbylanadelrey · 2 years ago
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Ok but picture this: reader is in college and is babysitter for Frankie’s kid or kids (depending if you want to make him have more with his ex after the events of the movie). She is attracted to him and one night he comes out late, they give in and have sex. She spends the night and the kid(s) burst into the bed to find their babysitter cuddling in bed with their dad under the covers. You can decide what happens next!
I LOVE THIS IDEA
Touch Tank | Frankie Morales x Babysitter! Reader
Tumblr media
warnings: SMUT 18+, age gap (LEGAL), unprotected p-i-v sex (wrap it up), oral (fem receiving), frankie being the pussy eating king
songs: touch tank by quinnie, pretty boy by the neighbourhood, jonestown by emily yoke, daylight by harry styles
wc: 1.8K
masterlist
You closed your laptop after finishing the worst term paper you ever wrote. It was submitted and there's nothing you could do about it. You looked at the time, it was midnight and Frankie should be arriving home any minute.
Any minute the man you want should walk through that door and talk to you and then dismiss you from watching his daughter Isabel. Then you would just go home and fantasize about Frankie kissing you and professing his feelings for you, telling you that everything you have been feeling is not one-sided. The late-night talks, the flirting, and the small touches you shared are all not in your head. 
The door opened and Frankie quickly closes it behind him, taking off his shoes and throwing his jacket on the couch.
"Sorry I wanted to be home earlier but Benny just kept dragging us from bar to bar." Frankie sighs and sits right next to you, he takes off his hat and his fingers brush through his dark hair. You could smell alcohol and his cologne, it was an all too familiar smell of him.
"Don't apologize, I like being here," You smiled at him and move your laptop onto the coffee table. Frankie scoots closer to you and his arm rests on the back of the couch, you fell back into your spot and let yourself feel his arm touching your shoulders. 
"I like you being here," Frankie wasn't lying, he liked coming home to you and seeing you so at home, seeing you take good care of his little girl. He enjoyed that you stay past your time and talk with him, he could see that you wanted to spend time with him, and it was never forced.
Frankie was scared at first when he realized that you had a crush on him since you were just 22. He never saw himself as desirable until you would say 'You look good' before he would leave for the night. Your eyes ate him up every time you would see him, it gave him such a boost of confidence. 
Frankie turned his body towards you and liked how you looked in the dim light from the lamp. You looked into his eyes and then at his lips, you loved how his bottom lip was bigger than his top lip.
You loved his mustache accompanied by the scruff along his jaw. Frankie cups your cheek and his thumbs softly caress your skin and tug the bottom of your lip. You let out a pathetic whimper and the sound made his member stir in his cargo pants. 
"Can I kiss you, pretty girl?" Frankie's voice shook as he asked the question. You swallowed hard and couldn't believe the words that left his lips.
"Please," you whispered like you weren't trying to wake yourself up from what you think is a dream. Frankie chuckles at how well-mannered you always have been.
Frankie sits back and pulls you onto his lap, your legs fall naturally on the sides of his thighs. Your arms were thrown around his neck, his hands resting on your hips. Frankie presses his lips so lightly against yours like it is a whisper of the feeling of his skin on yours. You press just as lightly against his lips. 
The next move came from Frankie, he smashed his lips into yours. You give back the same kind of hunger. You bit down on his lip earning a moan from his throat. No one had to coax the other into the kiss.
His tongue glides against your bottom wanting to explore your mouth, his hands slide to the globes of your ass gripping hard. You moan at the sensation of his hands on your ass. His tongue invades as the moan left your lips. Your hands grab the ends of his curls, tugging them while you grind down on him. 
Frankie broke the kiss to admire your swollen lips and the look in your eyes. You shook your head at him and continued to play with his hair.
"Let's take this to the bedroom," Frankie said, you got off his lap and he takes your hand to lead you to his room.
You sat on your knees against the bed while Frankie tried to shut the door as quietly as possible trying not to wake his daughter who is down the hall sound asleep. He looked at how you were sitting on his bed, the way your thighs were slightly spread apart while you sat on your knees. He knew he had to bury his head between your soft thighs. 
You smiled at him with doll-like eyes, just big and bright. Frankie stalked his way to you, leaning down to take your lips between his once again.
His fingers played with the thin straps of your dress, he pushed them off your shoulders. The touch of his fingers danced back up to your collarbone. You shudder at his touch along your skin.
"Can I taste you?" Frankie asks while he lays you down and climbs on top of you, the hem of your dress falling to your hips showing off the black lace thong you picked out for the night.
"Yes," you hummed, he could feel the wetness pool in the small piece of lace as he pulled them down your plush thighs, he tucks your thong in his back pocket. 
You let out a moan at the sight of him pocketing your panties. Frankie lowers himself down to your naked heat,
"Fuck, baby, you have such a pretty pussy," he groans as he took in your scent and the way you were dripping for him. His fingers part your lips and collect your wetness with his tongue,
"Oh-oh god, Frankie," you arch your back off the bed as his tongue dives into your core, the bridge of his nose bumping against your throbbing clit. He replaces his tongue with his thick fingers into your heat, curling them and then fucking you with them. His mouth lays open mouth kisses the skin around your clit before sucking on where you needed him most. 
Your fingers fly to his hair, pulling hard on his dark locks. You bit your lip trying to keep your moans from escaping. You couldn't trust your mouth with keeping them in. Frankie stares directly into your eyes as he looked too beautiful as he was going down on you.
"You're so pretty," You cried out while your pussy clenched around his digits, he hummed against your core, and you loved how his mustache was adding more desirable friction to your clit.
"Cum on my tongue, pretty girl," He said before his tongue dives inside your cunt once more, he drinks from you like it was wine, and your body listened to his command. Your sweetness flooded his tongue, he knew your cum would taste so sweet. 
"That's my pretty girl," Frankie praises you while he continued his assault on your sensitive clit.
Your thighs kept trembling as you rode out your high on his fingers. Frankie kisses his way up to your lips, he brings his lips to yours and shares with you how sweet you tasted on his tongue.
"I need you right now," you fumbled with his belt and unzipped his pants, his clothes discarded to the floor.
Frankie pulled the top of your dress down for your breasts to spill out. Frankie takes one nipple into his mouth and kneads your other breasts. You throw your head back and your hips buckled needing friction. 
Frankie leaves open-mouth kisses along your collarbone, he guides his cock along your slit and pushes in the bit past his tip.
"You feel like heaven," he moans pushing himself into your aching pussy. You mewled when you looked down at his cock disappearing inside of you, filling you completely.
"Look at my pretty girl taking my cock so well," Frankie smirked, he pulls himself out almost all the way out and then slammed back into your core.
You smiled as Frankie frantically thrusts into you so deep you could feel him in your stomach.
"You're so big," you whimpered, Frankie drunk in the way your tits bounced with each thrust, his hands gripped your hips for leverage trying to fuck so deep into you.
Frankie's moans were like whines as he wanted to look at your face but also your cunt milking his length. 
"I-I'm gonna cum, sweet girl, where? where?" his thrusts were becoming sloppy but still hard and deep. Your hands fist the bedsheet, you could feel the tight knot in your stomach come undone.
"I want you to fill me up, baby," You threw your head back as you came undone beneath him, your walls clenched around him. Your words and the way your velvet walls milked his cock had him releasing hot ropes inside of you. 
His cum was leaking out of you as he fucked into you. Frankie's hand grabs your face as he rode out both your highs. You had a cock drunk smile painted on your face, he moaned at how much he loved the look on your face
. "You like that? You like my cock filling you up, pretty girl?" Frankie whispered, he rests his forehead on yours.
"Yes, I do, baby," you said out of breath, he pulls out of you and laid down beside bringing you into his arms.
"Stay the night," Frankie mumbled trying to keep himself awake.
"I'd love to." You kiss his chest before you both drifted to sleep. 
-
The sun came through the blinds, and you slid out of bed and readjusted your dress from the night before. You climbed back into bed and nestled yourself back into his arms.
"Good morning, pretty girl," Frankie's voice was low and groggy from sleep, you smiled up at him loving how he sounded first waking up.
"Morning," you hummed as you traced shapes on his sternum. You basked in the morning glow before heading to take a shower. 
Frankie gave you his blue button up from his closet and a pair of his boxers. He brought you back to bed and laid there before having to face the day. The door swings open and Isabel runs to find you trying to hide from her.
"Daddy, you had a sleepover?!" she exclaimed as she looked at you, he laughs and sets her between you and Frankie.
You both looked at each other and shrugged, Isabel started to ask why she wasn't invited and how mad she was at her dad for not letting you sleep in her room because sleepovers are for girls.
"Bel, Daddy is very sorry, how can I make it up to you?" You watched him hold her and just listen to her babble. 
Your heart ached at how sweet he was with her,
"You let me have ice cream for breakfast," the deal was said and done, you spent the morning with them and it felt like this was supposed to be an everyday thing. 
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tomyo · 8 months ago
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A long examination of Amy and her character treatment.
This was initially a YouTube comment lol.
I truly loved the Sonic x dub cast but it really always came down to an issue of script and possibly the voice director. It always stung to me how much vitriol Amy used to get and while I like how she is better treated (being more recognized as one of the core 4), I do miss the sassiness she was given in the 00s. Sonic is meant to be kinda edgy and often in the anime he’s portrayed with immature traits because he’s a teenager, Amy often was the counterpart to that, a modern posh girl who was stubborn about what she wanted but not solely defined by that. I don’t think it was revolutionary but I do think compared to the Japanese ideal woman, Amy would be more akin with trickled down gyaru culture (Mat[ure] gal, something in line with the image of posh spice). It’s unfortunate that headstrong translated probably somewhat to boy crazy and desperate to an English audience and where Sonic’s immaturity was toned down removing that feeling they were on the same level. Often my biggest issue with her modern voice is she comes off as a knock off mini mouse (more so in the earlier games with her current English VA).
Maybe ironic is it sounds more alike to her Japanese portrayal which also ironically I’m very conflicted about since it somewhat aligns her more with cream age wise. But what I do like about it is the difference in character portrayal. If I were to guess Sega’s stance on Sonic and Amy it would be two people loosely dating, similar in the way Mickey and Minnie are a couple but that validity fluidly changes depending on the situational need. Keep in mind that Amy’s first portrayal is as a version of Sonic’s girlfriend. Given that there was apparently a valentine’s plush bouquet of the two I think to some degree they’re meant to be as such. When it comes to the Adventure era to just before generations, the context of this relationship is greatly changed between languages. American Sonic often gave off the feeling of a laid back but heroic guy who puts up with a girl because he is too kind and she’s too pushy. And I think even just the voice direction plays into that perception because of how they sound a different maturity than the Japanese portrayal. In Japanese, Sonic is often more playful and less uncomfortable than he sounds in English. A great example is adventure 1’s park segment when Amy gets excited for free couple entry, in English Sonic is clearly annoyed and calling her a pain while in Japanese he’s caught off guard but going along with it. I’ve only just been digging into the Sonic X sub but the comparisons I see give off more the feeling that Amy is casually dating Sonic and regularly fighting with him to take her on dates (gonna point to Goku and chichi in this case). He cares about her enough to go to her place first at the end of the first season but reflexively avoids responsibility, she’s the scary girlfriend always mad at him. Specifically pointing back to episode 52’s ending, they use a song associated with specially the relationship between Amy and Sonic that also is explicitly romantic (and in terms of the song presumably reciprocated) when she asks him to tell her He loves her and the lip flaps of his unheard response *could* match up to “Aishiteruze Amy” (my conjugation isn’t that good and google isn’t helpful but to me vague knowledge a more casual masculine way to say I love you) and a white rose which symbolizes “chaste love”.
Ultimately I read their relationship being Amy trying to find compromise with Sonic’s free spirit. They’re by no means official and probably never will be because it’s not in Sonic’s priority (in his game portrayal). The most I think that would ever become of him being with someone would be almost completely out of the picture and light hearted at best.( But that is also due to him eternally being 15/16 as for now. ) Amy trying to get him to spend time with her and show some reciprocation is I think all Sonic X Amy is looking for. But going back to my thoughts on why Amy got so much backlash for the longest time is I don’t not think the first wave of Sonic fans in America understood that. The image of who Sonic is was completely treated different and even before Amy (who you could technically call the second character created in game universe) could appear stateside, the U.S. already created the answer that “Yes, Sonic is interested in romance and here is the type of girl he likes.” My feelings toward Sally always lie in, I did not hate Sally but I hated the way fans pointed to Sally as the reason to hate Amy. It doesn’t help that when Amy was introduced, she was defined by being young, bratty and blind to Sonic not loving her back. She was the little sister trying to steal your boyfriend and the age gap they share was even more so focused on. Even with just the English dub of Sonic media, it was leaning into the concept that boys should feel disgusted at the ideas of romance that isn’t as prominent in Japanese media. It paints the picture to the average 90s Sonic fan that “Amy will never be his type because he’s more interested in a cool mature girl like Sally.” Of course the same comic that particularly created that shipping divide collapsed leaving Amy once again to be the sole main girl that now had a fandom known for hating her. Already doing a whole reset with Colors on scaling back the grand stories and cast, by the next time we really saw her in generations she was just…….dainty. I remember being very effected by her Disney princess hand posing in Lost World. To be honest she hasn’t been that deeply tied into any mainline stories too much, at least not in her modern styling but to also be fair, I’m trying to enjoy Forces despite being late to the game (There was a decade gap of buying a major console) and while I have seen pretty much the full extent of her rep in Frontiers, I’m holding off on dream team currently(also want to play the murder of Sonic on my own time). From the way I look at it, this has lead mainly western media to define her character and often working off said issues that previously arose with her portrayal. As much as I love Sonic Boom, I see Amy’s straight forward pursuit to awkward denial of even feeling that way as nothing less than an absolute failure of her character. That mixed with making her the “The girl annoyed with the boys because she’s just so much more smarter and sophisticated than them” just switching her to a different girly stereotype that ultimately pacified her, then further extending into prime emphasizing how nature loving she is in a way that again really just feels like a Disney princess cliche. Ultimately she’s become “The nurturing homebody who is a little annoyed at the brutish guys she’s around and doesn’t want to address having feelings for her guy friend because that would just bother him.” Maybe it's just aging to that point but its come to a girl minimizing herself is more frustrating that a girl obsessed with a guy. I get why they chose to pivot her in that way but it often also feels directionless.
Actually looking back at all the media that sparked this, even Sonic X doesn't feel that bad as she was made out to be. Granted I'm only a 7th of the way in but she's not often making a huge deal about sonic as much as sonic is the heavy hitter especially with knuckles gone and he's not taking his duties seriously. But it's also interesting to try and see what's going on in the Japanese dubs of the games now that I also have a decent hold on the Japanese language. Sonic adventure 2 gives the impression of her being a part of the crew just constantly not caught up in what's going on. Naturally she'd be invested getting her beloved out of prison but he is so tied up in what's going on that he (and tails) don't stop to fill her in before she's also a wanted criminal. Notably as well, when the island is set to explode, where sonic says "I got to warn the others!" Others is addressed as "Amy-tachi". The word the Japanese use for we is "Watashitachi" which is the word for I with Tachi denoting people with them (watashi can also be replaced with of pronouns if you don't use watashi). It took my by surprise that between tails and Amy, sonic refers to any instead. Something about Japanese sonic makes Amy feel more a part of the group and part of me cries the many ways English sonic fans did not get it.
Edit: I have now played The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog and the writing team GETS Amy. I'm starting to wonder if Amy's Disney princessness is due to most of the media being kids shows right now and this was a steam game (mainly aimed at an older crowd). What's best is if plays well into the whole "Sonic is a bad boyfriend" concept I was talking about, he forgets her cake and is panicked. But Amy is also much more aligned with her old portrayal, she's excited and a little hot headed. Clearly she's had to organize a lot but also lavishes in it being her birthday. She doesn't over obsess on Sonic but she's definitely happy that he supposedly brought her cake and she gets to avenge his "murder". At the same time she's happy to be with all of her friends who clearly care enough to go along with this, even people you wouldn't expect like rouge and shadow. I know Blaze travelling dimensions is a joke but yeah it is crazy she did that for Amy who I think she only really knows though the Olympic games(I've only just started Rush). A murder mystery feels also such a good take for her, it's something extravagant but also a little occultish. Aligns really well with someone into tarot.
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izuizzy · 3 months ago
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thinking about how sonic becomes immortal in UltiSpawn AU and how he has had to come to terms with the fact that he’ll stop aging and he’ll watch as his friends slowly wither like flowers, but shadow has already come to terms with this and now he’ll eventually help sonic start to process everything that comes with immortality, including the grief.
so basically there’s this huge explosion (I’m thinking it’s in a very deserted area or island where a fight takes place. both sonic and shadow are there (idk about anyone else))
but this explosion went off and shadow was going to be okay, but Sonic wouldn’t. just before the explosion reached him Sonic mustered up what chaos energy he could from the chaos emeralds to go super. but it was like just in the nick of time. so because of that it just barely saved him from death.
he was in critical condition after this. in and out of a coma. I think he even flatlined once. all his friends fear he wouldn’t make it, watching him nearly die more than once was hard on all of them. they never thought they’d see such a bright and unstoppable force be reduced to this.
so I said Sonic was in and out of a coma but when he was comatose it would be for days or weeks on end, waking up for brief spells, maybe a day or two, and then his condition worsened and he’d either fall into the coma again or have to be placed into one medically.
I’m thinking that the blast was something incredibly dangerous to his system idk if it was a influx of chaos energy or maybe something more deadly. something that shadow can withstand but regular mobians cannot and that why he was struggling.
but I digress, while sonic was comatose that’s when shadow would visit. he would chaos control into the room, late at night, and he’d sit down and talk.
he’d just talk for hours, all while sonic laid their silently. the beeping of the machines he was hooked up to grating on shadow’s ears and the sight of sonic making his heart ache even before he understood his own feelings. he’d look at sonic sadly, quietly begging in his heart for him to wake up.
idk how yet, but I feel that shadow feels responsible (somewhat or fully) for sonic’s condition and he visits to ease up the guilt on his conscience (but also because he’s worried- no, he’s scared)
shadow would ramble. telling sonic about the missions he’d take on with team dark, all the way to stupid things like how rouge called omega a toaster oven and omega proceeded to say he couldn’t toast anything. anything to just keep talking to him, even if he wouldn’t respond back.
shadow wants sonic to wake up and he hates having to leave for another night, but he keeps coming back, and yet he stays away when sonic does regain consciousness. because the guilt still eats at him.
it’s only when sonic starts to stabilize that he notices he feels different, and when tails examines sonic’s energy levels and his body back at his lab, that they confirm he is not the same.
let’s just say that…. Sonic doesn’t take it well initially.
how could he when all of a sudden nothing would be the same. every face looking at him after the revelation would soon be nothing but a memory. and he’d be there, left alone.
seeing tails’s face was the last straw and he ran off in a fit. shadow spotted him, and he knew he must’ve discovered what he’d become. something shadow could already tell by the matching energy levels and frequencies they now shared. things would never be the same, and the wind was about to blow everything Sonic ever knew away at any moment.
this song’s vibe fits this for me
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