#i have to draw something heartfelt once in a while.....

[licollisa]

Chara have partly made peace with what had happened. And the last part's going around in the form of a golden flower.

[koolades-world]

Hello, I'm looking for some angst.

I would like to order an extra harsh reality of

"The brothers will pick their sister over Mc if given a chance"

And some side dish of "The undertables having to fight for Mc"

Thanksiiee!!

hi!! Sorry I took so long to get to this but I was so looking forward to writing this when I got it! slight mentions at nsfw but nothing is described or really directly talked about. also spoilers for lesson 16 and also also long!! much longer than I anticipated

everything I write turns into Satan pieces somehow lol

Took inspo from Harry Potter, specifically Tom Riddle’s diary in the Chamber of Secrets (don't @ me used to be a huge hp fan)

update: part two is out and can be found here :)

the dance of the haunted (part one)

It all started with a simple trip to the second hand bookstore. Satan always invited Mc, so they were together. He needed a hand carrying back his purchases sometimes and they always went someone to eat afterwards, Satan’s treat as he could never imagine asking Mc to pay.

They bookstore they visited today was a usual for them. It was close enough to walk, but far enough to avoid running into his brothers. Satan knew Mc really enjoyed old cookbooks and worn fantasy books. They also often searched for children’s books to read to local demon children as part of a school club. While he was initially concerned with them coming into contact with a cursed book, he grew more comfortable after seeing their magical ability and that they always carried an enchanted talisman that Solomon gifted them for that purpose.

Mc was over in the nature section, flipping through a book about creatures in the 3rd ring of hell. Satan found himself in the tomes section again. He, as usual, found himself rooting through the very back trying to uncover hidden gems. He was about to pick up a book he thought Mc might like to flip through it, when he froze. Just a sliver of this book was in his vision, but he already felt the magic oozing from it. It's a wonder he didn't sense it sooner. He put the other book in a hurry and pulled out the book from the back.

It was unlabeled, with a faded green cover and a golden ribbon attached to the spine. It marked a page close to the beginning. The magic radiating from it didn't seem bad in any way. It actually seemed quite positive. He was able to place it quickly after he felt the ribbon sticking out the bottom of the book.

This was most certainly a book infused with an angelic blessing at the very least, but how in the world had this ended up in a second hand book store in the Devildom, of all places. He flipped it over, looking for anything to go off of, but found nothing but a cursive golden letter L etched on the bottom right corner. He was a little afraid to open it, giving that it was in the hands of an angel at some point. After thinking it over, if anything happened to him, Mc would help him as soon as they noticed something amiss. Thanks to the pact, it would be almost instantly.

With the thought of Mc, he slowly opened the book. On the first page and on the inside of the front cover was handwriting that seemed oddly familiar. He struggled to read the words on the page at first due to the sense of familiarity. He suddenly got deja vu, as if he had held this book before. He closed his eyes for a moment to stop the world from spinning. When he reopened them, he felt like crying, and yet, he still wasn't sure why. Once he finally read what was written, he understood why.

On the inside cover, it read "Property of Lilith Morningstar" and near the bottom in large writing was a messy scrawl he recognized as Mammon's handwriting. It said "mammon waz here" with a little drawing of himself sticking his tongue out. A heart in a different color of ink enclosed the message and drawing. On the first page was a note seemingly from Lucifer. Satan would recognize his handwriting anywhere. It was a heartfelt message from Lucifer to Lilith, saying that he hoped the gift reached her well, and that he missed and loved her.

He closed the book for a second and suddenly felt faint. He sat on the floor, holding his head in his hands. He thought about what he had just read for a moment. The book that he had somehow found, maybe by chance or fate, belonged to his brother's late sister. It was a gift from Lucifer to Lilith while he was away. He realized that's probably why he felt his emotions raging. The Lucifer in him recognized the book, since he had seemingly picked it out himself to give to his sister. How had this ended up in a second hand bookstore? He theorized maybe it had been made in the Devildom and Lucifer had purchased it during one of his trips. But, angel Lucifer would have never done that. He was disgusted by the mere thought of even having to go down at the time, so the thought of him browsing shops was out of the question. Deciding to come back to that thought later, he decided to quickly flip through it, just to see what it was.

As he reopened the book, new waves of magic hit him. He didn't recognize them, but they felt as familiar as his brothers. He guessed their magic was also somehow within this book. But since it was all angelic magic, everything having to do with this book happened before the fall, before he even existed. Much to his dismay, everything beyond the first page was blank. He closed and opened it a few times, but nothing happened. He guessed it might be locked by magic in some way. The thought of trying to magically pry it open scared him again. He was a demon through and through, and since this was blessed by angels, he had no clue what might happen to him if he tried. He was certain whoever blessed this book did not accommodate for whatever he was, but he thought it to be unwise to test the limits.

"Satan. What are you doing on the floor?" Mc walked up to him, holding a few books in their arms.

"Oh, just looking at book on the bottom shelf. I got tired of crouching." He quickly placed the green book down on top of a stack of his other books.

"I get that. Just wanted to let you know I'm ready to be done when you are. Don't rush for me." They turned to walk away, but Satan stopped them.

"I'm done too. I was finishing up." He moved to get up. Mc turned back around to look at him.

"I made great timing then! Here, I'll carry some of these for you." They grabbed the first few books off his stack. He felt his stomach lurch when they touched the green book. He couldn't help but feel nervous with them handling the book, although he wasn't sure why. He didn't want to say anything about it to them, and again, he didn't know why. For now, maybe it was best he kept this to himself anyways. Mc’s expression didn't change and they continued to pile on the books until the green one was in the middle. There was nothing special about that book to them.

"Thank you." Satan made himself say. He picked up the remaining books and they proceeded to the check out together. Today, an older demon worked the register. She was familiar with the pair and had a soft spot for Mc.

"Is that everything for today?" She asked them as she counted the books. Between the two of them, they had thirteen books. Satan handed the demon the needed amount of grim, and waved them on their way. Satan insisted on carrying the bag of books home, since this time there wasn’t too many.

"Let's stop at a café on our way home. I'm dying for something warm to drink right now." Mc grabbed Satan's hand and pulled him in the direction they wanted to go in. He smiled and allowed himself to be dragged off. While they were enjoying coffee together, he was able to temporally forget about the book he had discovered. All of his thoughts were about Mc for the time being.

When they arrived home together, Mc loudly announced that they were there. Mammon came running to greet them. "Mc! I got somethin' for ya! Ya gotta come with me right now!" He grabbed both of the hands and began to pull them away.

"Thank you for the coffee and books, Satan. Tell me about what you bought at dinner tonight." They looked back at him before looking at Mammon again.

"I will. I'll drop off your books in your room. I had a great time." He lifted a hand at them, as a goodbye.

"Mc!" Mammon began to whine.

"Yes, yes. Let's go now." Mammon took off with Mc in tow, leaving Satan stewing in his thoughts again. He went back to his room with all of the books. The other books he had picked out were no longer interesting compared to the Lilith book. However, he didn't want to mess with it while his brothers were awake. The last thing he wanted was them finding out. While he felt bad keeping it from them, something in him was telling him not to show it to them yet. He had promised Mc he would tell them about the books he picked out. The only one he wanted to read was the one about cats. He could easily talk about it to Mc anyways, without having to worry about the Lilith book crossing his mind.

He read until it was time for dinner. Today, it was Asmo’s turn to cook. He was actually a pretty good cook, probably the best in the house. It always turned out well and was plated gorgeous on top of that. He came to the dinner table with the book he hand been reading, still reading. He took his seat across from Mc, not looking up just yet.

“Hey, is that one of the new books?” Satan looked over his book and saw Mc peering at him.

“Yes, actually. It’s a cat book! Cats are the best.” He happily pointed to the picture of a cat on the front. As they ate, the conversation began to drift away from books, and onto something that Satan thought was irrelevant. He tried to go back to reading, but found himself reading the same lines over and over again. His thoughts had reverted to the little green book sitting in a pile of books on his bed. He has buried it, just in case someone happened to walk in.

As Mc mediated yet another argument between Levi and Mammon, he couldn’t find it in himself to silently seethe and glare at his brothers as he usually did. He blankly stared at his book, picking at his food. He was stuck wondering why the book didn’t say anything. He planned what he would do once he got back to his room. He knew he had a book of protective spells somewhere in the house that he might use to protect himself before attempting to interact with the book more.

“Satan. Is everything alright?” Lucifer placed a hand on his shoulder, catching him off guard. The table was basically empty now, much to his surprise. It was only Beel, Belphie and himself still seated. Beel was still eating and Belphie was passed out next to him.

“Nothing is wrong.” Satan snapped back after a moment.

“Alright. Please don’t forget do the dishes.” Lucifer retraced his hand, and with one final, unreadable look at Satan, left the room. He was unsure about how to feel about Lucifer noticing something was amiss. He snapped his book shut. He wasn’t really reading it in the first place. He put the book down on the kitchen counter and began absentmindedly doing the dishes. He was lost in though about the book currently buried underneath about twenty other books on his bed.

He finished in record time. He grabbed his cat book, figuring Beel could wash his own dish once he was done. He retreated to his room. He was released to find everything just as he left it. He dug up the green book from his pile, placing all the other books on the floor for the time being. He sat at his desk, running his hands over the cover. Under his little desk lamp, it seemed to sparkle in a way that he hasn’t previously noticed. Once he opened it, he was greeted with what he has seen earlier that day. But, to his surprise, there was more beyond that.

Most of the pages in the front of the book curled from usage. At the top of each page, was a note of the date. Below this, was a diary entry of sorts. Sometimes, it was just a to-do list, or a recipe. Others, he found Lilith’s accounts of her day to day life. He decided to start at the beginning, reading the first ever entry. He hoped to gain a little context of what exactly this journal was and how it worked.

Lilith had written on the first page after the note from Lucifer about how he has sent her this journal while on a trip to the Devildom, stating it was made by a human according to the tag on the outside of the journal. He enchanted it himself to only allow her to see the contents of this journal.

Satan paused his reading for a moment. If it has been enchanted to only allow Lilith to read the journal, how was he able to read it just now? He wasn’t close to her. They never knew each other. As he flipped to the next page to hopefully skim it for context of any kind, the words in front of him began to fade. The ink retracted into the page, from the last letter she had written, to the first. He wasn’t sure what he could do to prevent this, so he just quickly read what he could. The next page was something about how Belphie had wanted to take a look at it and something about Beel. Once he got there, the words has begun to erase themselves. He watched helplessly as everything disappeared. Soon, he was just stuck with the plain book he had discovered that afternoon, and the cover no longer shimmered.

He sighed, flipping through it again. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He was about to check out the back cover again when he heard his door being pushed open.

“Satan! Thought I would find you here.” Mc greeted him.

“It’s my room. What did you expect?” He shut the book in a hurry.

“Well, I can just as often find you in the library.” They approached him, touching his face. They outlined his jaw and smoothed his cheeks with their thumbs. He reached for their wrists, touching them with an imploring look.

“What’s the matter?” He petted their hair. They sat down in his lap and placed their head on his shoulder. He couldn’t help but worry that the journal was right in their view now, but he hugged them close nonetheless.

“I just feel lonely.” They sighed and buried their face in his neck.

“Really? After all that time you spent with Mammon?” He laughed a little at their predicament.

“Don’t laugh! It’s not the same as when I’m with you.” They pouted and puffed their cheeks out. He chuckled a little more at the cute face they made at him.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop. What can I do for you, my beloved?” He could get lost in their eyes.

“Give me affection! Just kisses will do.” They pointed to their forehead. Satan smiled at them, amused.

“As you wish.” He began to pepper their face in kisses. As Mc grew more needy, the more he satisfied them. One thing led to another, as they ended up in Satan’s bed. They stayed together for the rest of the night, the journal long forgotten.

Early the next morning, after their night of passion, Satan awoke abruptly. He looked around. He was in his own room, but his clothes were scattered around the room. A shirt was hanging by a thread off a tall pile of books. Mc was asleep next to him, their arms wrapped around him. His lamp light was still on. He reached over as far as he could to reach the off switch. Before he could hit it, he saw the journal. He glanced back at Mc. He didn’t want to wake them, but he felt the urge to open it. He reached out to touch it, and as soon as he did, he noticed it began to shimmer like it had before. He was amazed. He quickly flipped as best as he could to a random page with one hand. He could see lots of writing. He shut it again, taking his hands off of it. It remained shimmery.

He decided not to flip through it now, since he wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind to at the moment. Instead, he noted the time; 4:03 am. Once he woke up, he would check it again to get a rough idea of how long it would stay open for since earlier, he wasn’t sure how long it had been open for. He finally shut the lamp off and let the book flutter closed. He took his mind off the book, and laid back down. He tucked an arm around Mc as best he could without waking them, and drifted back to sleep.

He awoke for the second time that day. Everything was essentially the same as it was earlier except for the time and the noise outside his door. Mc was still asleep next to him, griping him tightly. It was 8:24 am now, and he could hear Lucifer pacing around past his door in the hall. He didn't make any noise. The last thing he wanted was to see his ugly mug first thing in the morning. Because of this, he decided not to leave him room just yet, but he also didn't want to open the journal either. He would, however, check if it was still "open" or readable. He flickered on his little desk lamp again, and was greeted with the shimmery cover. He didn't want to touch it, because he was almost certain he was able to set it off that morning. Once he was able to think clearer, he would revisit that.

Instead, he grabbed the first book he could get his hands on and began to read. He wasn't sure how long he was there, just reading, but eventually he felt Mc begin to stir. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” Satan greeted the bleary eyed person snuggled into his side.

“Good morning love. How long was I asleep?” They yawned, making no move to sit up. Neither of them were dressed at the moment anyways.

“A decent amount. Longer than I did anyways.” He shrugged, placing the book facedown on his desk, over the journal.

“Thanks for not waking me. You wouldn’t guess how many times Mammon or Asmo have woken me up way too early. Granted, it’s usually on accident. Asmo with his skincare and Mammon with… I don’t actually know.” Mc rolled on to their side to look at Satan better, throwing one of their arms over his torso. He felt himself growing shy under their sleepy gaze. He knew he wasn't the only one graced with that privilege, but the way they looked at him made him feel so special. He would give them every star in the sky if they asked.

“That makes me all the more grateful that they don’t dare enter my room. Makes it quite the sanctuary, don’t you think?” Satan chuckled.

“Mmm, yes.” They yawned again.

“What do you want to eat for breakfast, sweetheart? Or is it too soon to think about that?” He asked.

“Give me a few more minutes and then I’ll find an answer for you.” Mc closed their eyes again, potentially going back to sleep. He used that time to reflect. His thoughts grew a little grim as he let them wander. That journal kept finding it's way into his mind. How had he been able to find that? What were the chances of that happening? Maybe it would have made a little more sense if one of his brothers had found the book instead, since part of them seemed to linger between the lines. He was a different story, though. The magic within must had been much more powerful than he anticipated.

Even as he turned his head to the side to look at the book again, he saw the pages glimmer in the light that didn't exist. Something seemed... wrong. He hadn't noticed it before, maybe due to the excitement of simply finding it. The circumstances of which he found it in too was bizarre. As a powerful demon, he should have noticed the angelic energy as soon as he entered the book store. He dwelled on this idea. Perhaps last night's activities had had an affect on it. He coughed a little, covering up his embarrassment from the invisible audience. As he thought more, it really made no sense that he just happened to find it. Had it been planted there for him specifically, or was it the journal itself? Just what did this book know? He did consider himself exceptional, but not nearly as much as his brothers. Their story was far more interesting than his own. He was just the consequence of their actions. Whatever the case with this book, he felt the urge to get to the bottom of it, despite the creeping dread in his gut.

He spent the next few days of his reading time picking though every page of the journal. He was able to learn so much about his brothers' days in the Celestial Realm, far more than they had ever bothered to tell him. Perhaps they thought speaking about it might bother him. Whatever the case, he found it strange to refer to them as angels. Lilith wrote lots about the twins and Asmo. She wrote less about the older brothers but it was clear they were just as important to her. He had know Asmo was the Jewel of the Heavens, but the way Lilith described him made him sound like the most amazing thing the world had ever seen. The more and more he read, the more he saw the similarities between himself and her. He too considered Asmo a trusted confidant, and a close friend of his. He too found himself sneaking off with Belphie for mischievous reasons, or spending time with Beel for his quiet, comforting presence. He began to realize how difficult losing her might have been for them. In the past, he knew it was a sore subject, especially among the youngest, but now he could really feel their pain as Lilith wrote about their daily misadventures. What they missed. Would they exchange him for her if given the chance? He shook this thought off, not liking the implications it might have.

Her innocence was painted clearly for him on each page, yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He checked the book again and again for traces of demonic magic but found nothing. The strangest part was that he couldn't even find his own. There was traces of various angels, most of which he didn't recognize, likely from the far gone past. The journal continued to puzzle him.

As time passed, the entries grew more and more chaotic. From her new lover, to the growing tensions between Lucifer and their father. They grew shorter and less carefree. Even her handwriting differed. She seemed to understand the gravity of what she had done. He knew this is when the Celestial War was about to begin. Her last entry was about her lover, again about how enchanting she found them, and how one day she hoped to spend the rest of her life with him, no matter what. He paused for a moment, realizing this entry was written likely days, or even hours before he was born. After that entry, the pages were blank. There were some pages with stray pen marks, but that's all he was able to uncover. He knew the ending to this story. The silence told it all. He sat for a while, reflecting again about everything he had seen. As he was thinking, words began to appear on the page in front of him, in the same handwriting and ink color as he had seen in the entire journal. It was Lilith's. Satan paused. He could tell the journal held magical properties, but this was not something he expected to happen.

"Hello? Anyone there?" The words appeared suddenly. He continued staring at the page until more words appeared. "You can say something you know. Ink will do." Satan began to look around for a writing utensil at these words. Once he found one, he began to pen a response.

"Hello. Are you Lilith?" He wrote down underneath the previous words. He got his own response quickly.

"Yes, I am! How'd you know that?" Satan paused again, about to write more, but was cut off as Lilith began to write more. "Haha! Just kidding. This is my journal. My name is in it. It would be weird if this wasn't me. Who are you, by the way? I don't think I've ever had a visitor." Right away, Satan thought Lilith reminded him of Asmo. He was probably like this when he was an angel.

He stopped before bringing his pen down to the page again. He was unsure on how to introduce himself. During his visit to the past, he went by Sully, which was the stupidest name in his opinion. But, he also didn't want to lie to her. Would it be wrong to tell her his story, and what happened after the war? "My name is Satan. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too! That's a pretty cool name. Interesting for sure." She wrote.

"I don't want to scare you away, but I want to make this clear as to not deceive you." He wanted to tell her the truth. He felt like she deserved to know. After all, he had always felt like she was supposed to be in his place. She even wrote in green.

"Oh, tell away then. I'm all ears. I won't judge, unless you're about to confess some sort of sin to me!" She wrote, most likely jokingly. That made him a little nervous at first, but he continued with the original plan anyways. Maybe this was his way of healing, somehow. He felt better after getting everything out. He told her almost everything. He omitted the part where Belphie murdered Mc. He didn't want to be the one to tell her, anyways. It felt wrong to tell her that her death had driven him to such an extreme. She stayed mostly silent, chiming in with a few questions and stray blots of ink on the pages near his writing, as if she was resting her pen on the page.

"I hope that wasn't too much to take in at once. Much has happened." Satan was still a nervous. He really hoped she wouldn't hate him. He was just the messenger. After all, without her, he wouldn't even exist.

"I won't lie, it was overwhelming at first. But, I'm happy to hear my brothers are doing well without me. It's comforting to know that they have you and Mc now." Lilith drew a little heart next to her message.

"Glad to hear. Sorry to leave so abruptly, but I agreed to meet Mc for an outing shortly, so I will see myself out." He wasn't lying. He had agreed to meet Mc, but it wasn't for another two hour.

"Alright. Have fun! Talk to you later." With that, everything she had said sunk into the page and left no trace behind.

"Goodbye." His words also disappeared. Just like that, their entire conversation was gone. He shut the book. He was glad she didn't object. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to leave early. He felt a little bad leaving her to stew in the information dump, if she actually existed beyond the book being open. Everything about the book confused him. Looking back at it, maybe he made a rash decision. Maybe he shouldn't have info dumped to her like that.

He decided to forget that for now to enjoy his time with Mc. They had an event to attend, and he had to get ready anyways. Later that night, he came back to the journal in order to study it. He opted not to talk to Lilith just yet. The sick feeling in his stomach had returned. Something was wrong with this journal, very wrong. It made no sense, even after chatting to her. She seemed sweet enough, but that wasn't enough to dispel that gross, nauseating feeling. He just couldn't place his finger on what. He felt as if he was losing his mind checking over and over again, for something, anything. But, he found absolutely nothing.

Eventually he got to the point where he was determining if he should burn it or not. He regretted even talking to her in the first place. He wasn't sure why, but he grew uneasy even having Mc in the same house as the journal. Somehow, it felt as if he was talking to someone else, as in not the Lilith who made the original entries. He placed the journal back on his desk, underneath his latest book finds, leaving to find Mc. He eventually found them by the door, putting their shoes on.

"Hey Satan. Good to see you!" They looked up at him.

"Hi, Mc. Where are you going?" He was relieved they were leaving the house.

"Purgatory Hall. I was invited over to play some games. Sol's idea." They began searching for their jacket. Satan noticed it hidden behind Lucifer's big overcoat. He grabbed it, and helped them put it on, thinking hard. "Aww thank you. You didn't have to do that." They beamed at him.

"I wanted to, it's no trouble." He paused for a moment, then continued. "Hey, do you think it's possible that I could come with you. I don't even have to play these games if that's an issue, I just want to be with you." He would feel even better if he was able to be with them, and get away from that journal for a while.

"Oh, of course! I'm sure they would love to have you. Besides, I've basically always got one of you brothers attached to me, they might find it weird if I showed up without one." Mc laughed. "I thought you were planning to read tonight, since I've been taking up almost all of your nights for the past week. Did something happen?" They seemed concerned, looking into his eyes.

"Thank you. Really, I can put off reading again. All time spent with you is precious. It's hard to be away from you, you should know. You're simply enchanting." He took their hand and spun them into his arms.

"Alright, if you say so! We should get going if we want to be on time. I can let them know if you need a little time to get ready?" Mc giggled, buying his excuse. They might have seen though him, but was glad they chose not to say anything.

"I just need my shoes and coat as well. I wouldn't want to hold you up, anyways." He only let Mc go in favor of getting ready. "You know, I'm honestly surprised you aren't already bringing Mammon or Asmo." He told them.

"Me too, actually. Asmo was busy, and Mammon was too distracted with his car repairs to pay attention to what I was saying earlier. I was almost held back by Belphie too. But, I'm here now and I get to spend this time with you." They stood beside him as he tied his shoes and shrugged on his jacket. As the two of them made their way to Purgatory Hall, Mc held his hand so tightly and gazed at him so tenderly, he was almost convinced they were the only thing in the world.

When they arrived, they had plenty of fun. Solomon had arranged a collection of games to play as a group that were randomly decided by drawing slips of paper. To nobody's surprise, Solomon and Mc ended up winning most of them because they were human games. Satan forgot all about the journal. That is, until, he received a phone call in the middle of one of their games. Mc was draped over him with their arms around his neck, also curious about who might be calling them at a time like this. It was Lucifer.

"I told them we were heading out. What could he need?" Mc reached for the phone but Satan stopped them.

"If the call is for me, it's probably to yell at me or something. I don't want you to be on the receiving end of that." Satan rolled his eyes, and brought the phone to his ear, planning to brush off anything he said. He was really only answering because Simeon was in the room, who would answer it for him.

"Come home. Now. You have explaining to do." Lucifer growled through the phone. At first, Satan wasn't worried. He got ominous calls from his older brother like this all the time.

"What is it?" He sighed. Mc laughed a little, causing him to smile. The others began to chat among themselves while he was on the phone. This was normal.

"You know exactly what this is about. On your desk in your room. Underneath three books. Your keys on the left. The pen you used on the right." Satan froze. The smile left his face. Lucifer always sounded serious, but this was one of the few times he sounded like he was about to rip his throat out. He had found the journal. Mc didn't hear what he said, somehow, but noticed his change in demeanor.

"What's the matter, 'Tan?" Mc brushed some hair off his forehead.

"Nothing, my love. Don't worry about it. It's the usual nonsense." He moved the phone away from his ear for the moment, and then back once he was done speaking.

"Let me speak to Mc. I want them home too. Now." The tone Lucifer used to dangerous. Satan knew that was unwise. He didn't know what his plan was, but he didn't trust him at all.

"No. I will come home, but I'm not bringing Mc. I will not needlessly involve them. This will stay between us." Satan began to grow angry. He couldn't help it. Typical Lucifer, complicating matters.

"If you don't come right now, I'll drag you both back personally." Satan knew he wasn't kidding. None of his threats were empty.

"Fine. Have it your way. We'll be home shortly." Satan hung up before Lucifer could respond. By now, the entire room was staring at him. He looked totally different than he had before. He was tense, his rage obvious.

"Are we leaving? What's the matter? Did something happen?" Mc looked at him, concerned.

"I'm heading home to take care of something, but you're staying here. I promise it's nothing serious." He lied through his teeth. He didn't know why Lucifer wanted Mc there, but he knew it couldn't be good. The journal was bad news, and they were involved in no way.

"Are you sure? Lucifer said he wanted me there, right? You know how good I am at sorting out issues in your family. I really don't mind, if that's the issues." They squeezed him a little. They were so caring. Too caring.

"I'm sure. I won't act out or anything. He's probably mad about chores or something. I wonder if Mammon sold his underwear while it was my turn to do laundry again." Satan smiled. They cracked a small smile back.

"Alright. Keep me updated. I'll be waiting for you." Mc pressed a kiss to his forehead before climbing off of him.

"Simeon, before I go, can I have a quick word?" Simeon, who was comforting Luke, turned at the sound of his name.

"Of course." Simeon stood up, gesturing for Mc to take his seat next to Solomon. Luke was seated on the floor between them. Mc looked worried, but moved regardless. Solomon looked around the room, studying everyone's expressions. Simeon walked with Satan to the entry way. "What's the matter?" He asked, holding out Satan's coat for him.

"I want you to place a blessing on this building. Do not let any demon in under any circumstance. Including me. I don't care what they say. I don't have time to explain, but something is very wrong at the House of Lamentation and I don't want a single one of my brothers near Mc." He shoved his shoes on as he spoke. He hastily put on his jacket and turned to look at Simeon one last time.

"I don't know what could be wrong, but I trust you. Mc is safe in mine and Solomon's hands." Simeon let his hands fall to his sides, opening the door for Satan. He watched as he took off running in the opposite direction of the House of Lamentation. He could only stare and wait for him to be a good distance away, before shutting the door. He went back to the living room to find Mc hugging Luke, Solomon with a hand on Luke's shoulder.

"Solomon." Simeon said the sorcerer's name. He stood up and walked over to him. "Satan didn't tell me what the matter was, but I need you to do a quick check of the house to make sure nobody but us is in here. Satan requested I bless the house to keep his brothers out." The expression on both of their faces was grim.

"Of course." Solomon shut his eyes and waved his hand. Once he reopened them, Simeon knew he had completed the check. "Nobody but the four of us are here."

"Thank you. Normally I would ask Luke to help me perform the blessing, but I would prefer to leave him alone for now. Will you accompany me?" Solomon nodded. Simeon led him away, leaving the room together, leaving Mc and Luke along together on the sofa in the once full room.

"What's wrong, Mc?" Luke asked them. For once, they had no clue how to respond to the boy.

"I'm not sure. Simeon might know more, but for now, we just have to wait. In the meantime, do you wanna play some more of the games?" Mc hoped to take his mind of the ordeal.

"I don't really feel like it, sorry." He sighed, worried. He had always had concerns about Mc living with demons and them seemed to be coming to fruition.

"That's alright. Do you want to watching something maybe? Simeon made cookies that are cooling in the kitchen, right? We can get those." Mc tried again to get him in better spirits.

"Let's wait for Simeon and Solomon to get back. They might be worried if they return and we're gone." Luke admitted.

"Good point. I'll turn on a movie for now. What do you want to watch?" Mc got up, leaving Luke in their spot.

"Anything." He usually had more to say. Mc could tell Luke was very worried.

"Alright." Mc went through the various dvds Solomon had stored away near the tv. After finding one they liked, they put it on. The two of them watched this movie together since there was nothing better to do. Eventually, Simeon and Solomon returned with said cookies. Rather than sit on the free couch, they all sat together. They could all tell Luke was worried. The desserts remained untouched.

"I have a surprise that I think you'll like, Luke." Solomon spoke up. Luke picked up his head. "I was told that Mc could stay the night, so we can have a big sleepover together. Does that sound good?" Luke perked up.

"Oh, good. That sounds great! I don't want to send Mc back to those icky demons. Where are we sleeping?" Luke sounded excited, making the rest of the room smile.

“We can stay in my room.” Solomon watched as the little angel jumped out of the cuddle pile and ran to gather pillows and blankets.

“It’s nice to see him happy again. I honestly think he might be more concerned than me.” Mc sighed, reaching for a cookie.

“If we knew what was wrong, we would tell you. I just know Satan asked me to place a blessing on the house.” Simeon explains.

"I figured. It's fine. We just need to hope for the best..." Mc stares at the cookie, thinking about Satan and what he might be doing right now. They just hoped he was safe.

ty for putting up with me and not putting out anything for so long... and sorry for the cliffhanger lol. really wanted this out but a. not sure how much longer it will take and b. not sure what I want the ending to be yet! lol

part two soon hopefully sorry to anon for taking so long!!!!

[skzxlevanter]

stray kids reaction with a shy and quiet s/o

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

warnings: petnames, besides that overall fluff, a bit possessive and suggestive if you squint, but not really

found this in my drafts so i decided to complete this cute little drabble :) I’m sorry that there’s not a lot of content coming rn, but i’m still preparing for two remaining finals so i just don’t have the mental capacity and time,,hope you guys understand :/

besides that, enjoy the drabble and feel free to check out other things from my blog :D

bang chan:

oh well he would be so flustered when you get flustered and the two of you would just be a flushing mess most of the time

he really tries everything to not make you uncomfortable, also ordering for you at places and he would be more than patient with you, not wanting to overwhelm you in any way, also being a 100% protective of you

but at the same time he’d try to make things with you that make you come of your shell a bit, things that you usually wouldn’t do, but still not overstepping any boundaries, always letting you know that he‘s here for you

and like i said, he kinda likes it when you get all shy and blushy, sometimes making you blush on purpose and teasing you endlessly for it <3

lee minho

even tho he’d seem quite confident at first, i honestly think that he could be a little set back by the fact that you barely showed affection, but when he figures out that you’re just shy he takes it to his full advance

he does not miss a chance to flutter you when he can by giving you intense glares, or locking you between the wall and him in traditional k-drama style just to see your reaction, but never going overboard because hurting you or making you uncomfortable would actually break his heart

still, he loves it so much when you start to blush and ramble all kind of things when you’re stunned, breaking out into his signature bunny-like smile once he can‘t hold back anymore

and like chan, he would be super patient with you, giving you the space you need until your comfortable around him, not minding at all

seo changbin:

i can see him throwing around endless jokes just to see you getting all shy

he’ll also flex his muscles right in front of you just to see your signature blush

but besides that, even tho he doesn’t really want to admit this, the fact that you’re shy makes him kinda shy too so it might be a bit awkward at first

but the more you open up to each other, the more comfortable you get around each other and the more confident the two of you get

will definitely gently hold your hand anytime ( if you’re okay with it) and loves the time he spends with you nevertheless

hwang hyunjin

he probably wouldn’t quite know how to handle it at first, leading to a lot of awkward laughs

but over time, he’ll grow used to it and takes his time to get to know you as good as he can, letting you get comfortable around him, inviting you to various activities with him like drawing, galleries, random walks, etc…

that is when he’ll start to give you lots of heartfelt compliments, showing how much he appreciates you and helping you to get more confident in your own skin

overall he’ll be so gentle and loving at all times, aware to not hurt your feelings, but still trying to help you grow in the best way possible

han jisung

at first so.many.awkward.silences.

han is still an introvert at heart, so at first he’d don’t know what to do, a lot of doubts about himself rising up, buy when he realizes that it is just how you are, he’ll step up and warm up rather quickly

he’ll start talking non-stop over things he likes, asking you lots of questions while he’s at it to include you too

tries to make you laugh all the time, secretly loves how cute you look when you’re shy and get that little blush on your cheeks

but be ready to fight over who has to order or call people because that is something you’d both despise

lee felix

he’d be so gentle with you. seriously. he would act like you’re about to break any second

he’d immediately notice when you’re uncomfortable, not shying away from speaking up for you when you are and is just constantly making sure you’re okay

“everything alright, love?” // “anything on your mind, you look like something is off?” // “should i speak to them for you?”

in conclusion he will not let anyone make you uncomfortable, including himself, so he always watches your reactions and makes sure to never overstep your boundaries ever <3

kim seungmin

he can be such a menace,, exactly knowing how to push your buttons and thoroughly enjoying when you get all shy and will never stop teasing you

he also loves to take your shyness to his advantage, knowing you love to bury your flushed face in his neck and cuddle into him in embarrassment, so he basically can get affection without actually having to ask for it ;)

but like the others,, he’ll never hurt you, he knows when to stop and won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with

being at public places will also contain a lot of teasing, especially when it comes to ordering something, but in the end he’ll order for you and get you everything you want because he’s a sucker for you

yang jeongin

probably starts to giggle every time you visibly get shy over something, causing him to blush a bit himself

with him there always be a very fine line between him teasing and pushing you a bit out of your comfort zone and him getting shy too,,,but that actually makes it more easy for you to get comfortable, seeing that he can get all blushy and all over the place too

the relationship would therefore be pretty balanced, the two of you respecting each other’s boundaries but also growing together too, maybe even setting small challenges to achieve from time to time to get a bit more confident

but in the end, dates would mostly end up in quiet places or just at home, where the two of you are all in private and comfortable without a soul (be aware of incidents with the other boys tho) interrupting you

masterlist

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#60: The Cure (1.06)

I love a Richonne + cars moment, a Richonne + candles moment, and, most of all, I love a Richonne + hands moment. Rick and Michonne's hands have their own greatest hits throughout Richonne’s love story so it’s only fitting they get one more moment to shine. And Rick and Michonne's final hand moment is beautiful beyond words. It truly paints the picture of how Richonne's love is the cure 🥹...

 After Richonne eliminates the CRM’s higher-ups - giving the upper echelon a taste of their own medicine by doing to them what they were about to do to countless communities - we get some audible insight into the aftermath.

And apparently, sometimes a lil destruction can bring peace and harmony cuz they sure seemed to solve everything wrong with the CRM and Civic Republic after going scorched earth at the summit.

A broadcast explains that after the explosion, Beale and the CRM higher-ups were exposed for all their nefarious operations and activities. That led to the CRC unanimously voting for an emergency oversight of the CRM’s remaining forces and they began implementing immediate reform to the Civic Republic. 

One of the most pertinent developments is that the CRC unanimously voted to change the rule that no one can leave. They now allow those in the Civic Republic to have free movement which means not only can Rick and Michonne finally go home, but the Civic Republic is even providing a helicopter to transport them there. 🙌🏽

gif cred: @nat111love

There's something emotional to me about hearing citizens are finally free to move at will. Cuz that’s all Rick wanted - the freedom and choice to go home to his family. And for years, because of the CRM’s secrecy and paranoia, they kept him from that. But now, after traversing the darkest valleys and still standing, Rick finally gets to go home, and not through escape but freely. 🥹

As the broadcast shares this development we see Rick and Michonne's helicopter in the sky and inside we get my favorite Richonne hands moment. 🤩

The shot focuses first on Michonne’s hand as she holds the pivotal phone that led her to realize Rick survived the bridge explosion. That phone is special. And I love how, in a way, it incorporates all four remaining Grimes because there’s an image of Michonne and Judith and then Rick and RJ’s name on it.

And of course, there’s also the Japanese writing “believe a little longer” which is always a heartfelt sentiment. It's fitting to see the phrase at this moment, as all of Richonne's belief is about to pay off now that they’re closer than ever to being with their kids.

Also, we can see Michonne is wearing her M bracelet and wedding ring in this sweet shot. I always love seeing the jewelry as a reminder that once Michonne found Rick, her husband adorned her with everything he could. 🥹 Husband of the Year every year, factually. 👏🏽

gif cred: @nat111love

Thank goodness Rick sought out Benjiro to draw his girls during his years away. Rick had to hide so much of himself while trapped with the CRM, but he still was compelled to find a way to connect to his wife and daughter.

And Rick's need to still somehow see Michonne and Judith, even if just through illustrations, allowed him to see them again for real since that phone Michonne found was key to letting her know he was alive out there - and most of all, alive out there missing her as much as she missed him. 🥲

As Michonne holds the phone, I imagine she's likely thinking about just how far they’ve come on this journey. First, it was Rick who had that phone as a means of hope during his darkest and loneliest chapter. And then the phone magnetically found its way to Michonne to give her hope too during a very dark and lonely time.

I remember when Michonne first found this phone on that boat it was such an overwhelming moment for her. She was instantly emotional in that TWD 10.13 ep after finding Rick’s boots and a phone that confirmed that Rick survived the bridge and was still loving and thinking about her and their daughter.

And now, after all the hell they’d been through, she doesn’t just have the phone to hold onto of Rick, she has the great man himself right by her side. 🙌🏽

In holding the phone it’s also clear that Michonne is thinking about the kids they're soon about to see. And you know who's also thinking about their kids right now? Rick. 🥹

As the shot pans from Michonne’s phone-holding hand, we see her other hand with the wedding ring which will always elate me to see. And then we see Rick’s hand shaking. 😭

Ok, my eyes tear up every time I see the way Rick's hand shakes on his knee, clearly illustrating his anxiousness about finally going home and reuniting with Judith and meeting RJ for the first time.

gif cred: @taiturner

It has to all feel quite overwhelming. He already loves his son and daughter so much, and I know he wants to live up to being the father they need and the father they clearly look up to as The Brave Man. And it makes sense he’d be feeling a lot of both excited anticipation and anxiety over such a big moment.

Plus, I think about how hard Rick fought to go home all these years and the physical and mental toll it took on his mind and body as every escape attempt resulted in getting caught. Part of why he only has one hand to tremble right now is because his time away from family pushed him to a breaking point where he was willing to chop off his own hand for just the mere chance of getting back to his wife and daughter.

And now, here he is, his wife by his side, and so close to home. That has to understandably make him overcome with emotion because finally, nothing is stopping him from going home. He’s really gonna make it all the way this time. 🥹

So likely with a million thoughts racing through his head right now, his nerves cause his hand to tremble. But then I adore to the moon and back that Rick no longer has to deal with his anxiety alone because his soulmate is with him and is always always so good at comforting him and bringing him peace.

So without a word being said, Michonne immediately holds Rick’s shaking hand, and sure enough, he calms and stops shaking as he holds her hand. Beautiful. 😭😭😭

gif cred: @nerd4music

This calming handhold moment between Rick and Michonne means so much to me. Especially with how a handhold ushered in Richonne’s canon era in TWD 6.10 and was Richonne’s final physical contact in TWD 9.03.

And now Rick and Michonne can still offer so much love and comfort when they take each other's hands all these years later as well. The greatest husband and wife on television, for real. 🥹

The whole movement of it was perfect. Like again, these actors are so talented that even a quick wordless moment of just their hands has such depth and meaning to it. And the music really adds to the emotion of it all too. 

I love that Michonne first gently places her hand on his, clearly sensing everything he’s feeling. And I adore that it’s with her wedding ring-clad hand. Rick's wife. 😭🙌🏽 Like truly the visual of Michonne taking Rick's hand while wearing the ring he gave her is just what a Richonners' dreams are made of. Both this handhold and the ring being in the shot communicate the many ways Richonne are forever committed to have and to hold one another.

And then I adore that Rick is receptive and immediately takes her hand and allows that to steady him. And his signature calming thumb makes another appearance. 😋 It's just all so good. No matter how anxious he gets, connecting with Michonne can always reach him, calm him, and center him.

gif cred: @lousolversons

Rick is definitely a character that often deals with anxiety, and I love that Michonne is so equipped to recognize it and offer comfort in the exact way he needs.

Michonne Grimes is Rick Grimes' cure, truly. After wrestling so long with what really is the poison or the cure, I love that the miniseries makes it so clear that Richonne's love is the cure that can always heal them.

And just the way he takes her hand, it feels like they’re both offering comfort to each other. Both solidifying to each other that they’re in this together always. So Rick doesn’t have to worry. Because Michonne will be right here with him as they reunite and restore their family. 

Also, Rick doesn’t have to fret about being the perfect dad because his eldest son Carl already gave him the blueprint on how to proceed as a father to Judith & RJ - it’s just to love. And Rick's good kind heart knows exactly how to do that. 🥹

gif cred: @michonnegrimes

And y'all, it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t get sentimental about their overall journey for a sec. So I had to take a moment to really reflect and celebrate the way Richonne's hands helped tell this love story all these years. Because it's really something, imo. 😊

It all started in the masterpiece OG Richonne episode 'Clear' (TWD 3.12), when the shot focuses on Michonne handing Rick a lone bullet, simultaneously showing him she's on his side and calming his antsy energy. There were definitely sparks flying between those two in that scene. Even Carl was looking like 'what's this about?' 🤔

And then, because Rick took it as an unbreakable law when Michonne said 'don't you ever touch me again' in TWD 3.07, Rick and Michonne didn't really touch again until season 5. But when they do, it's super meaningful and makes it clear they've become trusted partners who love each other.

Michonne takes Rick's hand just before they enter ASZ, again offering him a refreshing dose of comfort during a very anxious time for him. And she also is comforted in this car, knowing the man she feels most safe with is going to take this leap of faith with her and for her.

Then at the end of season 5, Michonne touches Rick's hand again, this time to let Rick know she trusts him to make the right decision after he offers to give her his gun. They'd been feeling a bit distant since arriving at ASZ and this top-tier season 5 finale scene brought them back together beautifully.

Rick is eager to give up all his secrets in the hopes of being back aligned with her, and Michonne is eager for Rick to see that she's with him no matter what. And the shot of their hands illustrates that perfectly.

That season 5 finale moment also made it clear that Richonne's canon era was just around the corner, especially because they were slowly but surely touching each other more.

And sure enough 😋...

Season 6 arrives and we get some of Richonne's greatest hand moments of all. 🤩 That low-five in the morning leading up to their first kiss - Perfection. ❤️‍🔥 Rick playfully whipping out those mints as Michonne takes them with a smile, and their mint exchange filmed in a way that parallels their bullet exchange in Clear - Perfection. ❤️‍🔥

And then of course the Richonne + hands moment is when Rick and Michonne first hold hands on that couch. It's the sweet, sensual, and oh-so-significant handhold that ignited Richonne becoming an official couple - Perfection. ❤️‍🔥

Once Rick and Michonne hold hands in TWD 6.10 and let all that love that has been stirring inside pour out, they make it very clear they never want to let go of each other. With a sweet, simple, and super special handhold in an RV even being the only confirmation they need to know that what they have is a forever thing.

It's like Andy said of Richonne: "You kind of hold hands, walk to the edge of the cliff and jump — and continue holding hands."

And they really did continue holding hands. 🥹

The wonderful Richonne + hand moments just ramped up even more as the seasons progressed. And all of it, every single time, was perfection. ❤️‍🔥

Apart from a final hallucination and heartbreaking bridge separation, Richonne's last real moment together on their TWD journey even concludes with a shot focused on their hands. And you already know I adore this final TWD handhold, which again paints the beautiful picture of how Richonne can always reach each other, hold each other, and stand united.

And then y'all, The Ones Who Live came along and spoiled us rotten with Richonne gold, including more wonderful and ultra-heartfelt Richonne + hands moments.

Michonne placing Rick's hand over her heart to calm him during his panic attack - Perfection 🥹. Michonne softly touching Rick's handless arm after he quite literally gave his hand for her - Perfection 🥹.

Richonne + hands just always remained a thing of beauty along their unforgettable journey.

Always. 🥰

So, all that to say - Richonne's hands told a very compelling story from TWD Season 3 to TOWL. 👌🏽

These moments (and there are even more Richonne hands moments that I could have included if there wasn't a 30 gif max) are a big reason why I adore that Richonne is given this shot focused on their hands in the final episode of The Ones Who Live. How far they’ve come, and they’ve only grown closer and closer and more and more in love. A love story for the ages. 🥹

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

Now, did I basically just dedicate a whole post to Richonne’s hands? Yes I did. 😇 I had to. Their hands moments were just that good and deserved appreciation.

I will forever cherish the opportunity to watch these two characters fall in love in a fallen world and, even with weary hands from this wild world, pick up each other's broken pieces to make each other whole. And each meaningful hand moment portrayed Richonne's ability to do so.

But ok, now, it’s time to talk about the utterly heartwarming and heart-melting moments of Rick and Michonne finally reuniting with their babies. And we're breaking it down in 2 parts because you know I gotta finish as extra as I started. 😌👌🏽

[jokertrap-ran]

(时空中的绘旅人—For All Time—) 司岚 CR 「徒涉空无」 Clarence CR [Wading Through the Void] Heartfelt ASMR / Whispers Translation (Complete)

*For All Time Master-list | Clarence's personal Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut (Video included) *ASMR contains 2 parts.

"Opening the door and coming home at the end of time with a greeting— it's been a long time."

Part 1: Beautiful Moments [韶光]

「The best moment in time? Right here, right now.」

Clarence: You opened the door to the bedroom, only to find that I was not there.

Clarence: So you ended up coming over.

Clarence: You then remembered that you had a package that you'd yet to open…

Clarence: So you came to study…

Clarence: I see.

Clarence: You're right to have done what you did.

Clarence: Had you left those boxes out there all night…

Clarence: The cats would assume that they were new toys to play with.

Clarence: This one's wrapped pretty tight.

Clarence: Do you need my help?

Clarence: Here you go.

Clarence: A storage box, huh.

Clarence: Stores books and even comes in the shape of a small house?

Clarence: It does seem like something you'd use.

Clarence: I think it's cute.

Clarence: Plus…

Clarence: It’s very imaginative.

Clarence: I like this…

Clarence: Door on the box.

Clarence: Only with a door…

Clarence: Can it be considered a house.

Clarence: You can hide secrets in there.

Clarence: And lock some memories within.

Clarence: Or open the doors…

Clarence: To get something new for a change.

Clarence: You want to take something from it right now?

Clarence: Let me try.

Clarence: What I have in my grasp now is…

Clarence: Your hand.

Clarence: And the owner of this hand…

Clarence: Is my favorite book.

Clarence: Every page is unique.

Clarence: Dynamic.

Clarence: And endless.

Clarence: Okay.

Clarence: We'll leave this here first.

Clarence: And we can pack some books inside tomorrow.

Clarence: You can also put your drawings inside.

Clarence: Or perhaps the letter I've sent you.

Clarence: Anything at all.

Clarence: If you happen to remember this box once in a while.

Clarence: You can open this little door.

Clarence: For what lies behind…

Clarence: Is our shared memories.

Clarence: So…

Clarence: What's the next package supposed to be?

Clarence: What?

Clarence: Why are you trying to hide it from me?

Clarence: Your ears have gone all red.

Clarence: “Bathroom Suction Cup Handcuffs”…?

Clarence: I see.

Clarence: I've seen these before, yes.

Clarence: Handcuffs used to restrain…

Clarence: Cats who are adamant against a bath.

Clarence: Go on then, open it.

Clarence: At least try it on for size to see if it fits.

Clarence: If the suction cups aren't strong enough…

Clarence: Then the handcuffs would be easily removed.

Clarence: Which wouldn't be worth the effort.

Clarence: If you require…

Clarence: I can lend you my hand so that you can try it out.

Clarence: However, handcuffs do not have a key.

Clarence: Perhaps you can operate it with just one hand.

Clarence: You just want to handcuff me to the table.

Clarence: Don't you…?

Clarence: Looks like you are aware of its use then.

Clarence: And it seems strong enough to restrain an animal.

Clarence: But not enough…

Clarence: See?

Clarence: Come closer.

Clarence: I've told you before.

Clarence: Haven't I?

Clarence: This set of handcuffs does not come with a key.

Clarence: And can be operated with just one hand.

Clarence: So you really should have tried restraining my right hand instead.

Clarence: To delay my escape…

Clarence: Take you right now, for example.

Clarence: It truly does hold strong.

Clarence: Before the cats…

Clarence: Perhaps we should…

Clarence: Try it out for ourselves?

Clarence: Right here.

Clarence: Right now.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Part 2: Fictitious [子虚]

「The only defense that man has against the nothingness of the future, is the present.」

Clarence: No. 1046529.

Clarence: I need to record the information I currently have on hand.

Clarence: There is physical space here.

Clarence: However, it is hard to determine the boundaries of said space.

Clarence: I can see the cosmos.

Clarence: Moving a 100 ahead…

Clarence: “Clarence”…?

Clarence: Who's calling for me?

Clarence: You.

Clarence: It's been a long time.

Clarence: I miss you so much.

Clarence: It has been…

Clarence: A long time since we last saw each other…

Clarence: I miss the time we spent together…

Clarence: I still remember that evening…

Clarence: When you opened the door to the room.

Clarence: The night breeze entered the room.

Clarence: And I came to a realization.

Clarence: Back then, I had a hunch.

Clarence: That if there was a set of forever locked doors before me…

Clarence: Then you are the key, standing before me.

Clarence: Can you hold my hand?

Clarence: I kind of miss that feeling…

Clarence: A hug…

Clarence: You're still the same as before…

Clarence: Always loving to spring surprises on me.

Clarence: No…

Clarence: Don't undo them.

Clarence: See?

Clarence: There's nothing under these bandages anymore.

Clarence: The wound has already healed…

Clarence: But it does tickle…

Clarence: When you touch it like that.

Clarence: So, as a recompensation…

Clarence: Let me hug you for a little longer…

Clarence: You know…

Clarence: It was only after I embarked on this journey…

Clarence: That I learned that the size of the world could not be estimated.

Clarence: And that time was an endless thing.

Clarence: The world we live in is vast…

Clarence: And in comparison…

Clarence: We are little more than cocoons on a leaf.

Clarence: We are the insects in the cocoon…

Clarence: Doing our very best to survive.

Clarence: I will return to see you again.

Clarence: It is your aid…

Clarence: That has led me this far.

Clarence: The time I spent with you…

Clarence: Will serve as a torch.

Clarence: One capable of tearing through the solid darkness.

Clarence: Wait for me.

Clarence: And await our next meeting.

Clarence: Regardless of what the world has come to by that time…

Clarence: Be it whether time or space has ceased to exist…

Clarence: Even if I have to pass through countless upon countless doors…

Clarence: I will morph into a butterfly…

Clarence: And I will fly to meet you again.

[captainwans]

IT’S MTV, YOU JUST GOT SLIMED!

— ALEX TURNER

pairing: alex turner x fem! actress! reader

summary: y/n y/l/n graciously accepted her well deserved award from mtv, but little did she know that she was going to get slimed in the process.

warning: nothing but teeth-rotting fluff, humor, laughter and prankster!alex. this is chapter is based and inspired from scarlett johansson’s generation award at the mtv in 2021.

word count: 1,4k | ( gif not mine! )

arabella series!

masterlist!

... [Y/N] HELD THE MTV AWARD WITH BOTH OF HER HANDS, EYES LOOKING AT HERSELF FROM THE COMPUTER THAT WAS PLACED IN FRONT OF HER. She held a graceful smile on her delicate features as she sat crossed legged, waiting for the screen to load. She quietly mumbled what she was gonna say, completely oblivious of Alex standing at the end of room with a devilish smile plastered onto his face.

Since she couldn’t attend the awards and be there physically, she was given the opportunity to make a video due to filming overseas. She was currently joining Alex on tour, having a few weeks off before she was going back to filming her new movie. She was sat beside Matt’s daughter, Amelia, who had all of her art supplies sprawled onto the table.

“Auntie, is that real popcorn?” Amelia asked her, turning her head toward [Y/N] with a curious look.

Her question earned a lot of laughs, including the actress who softly laughed at the little girl. She ruffled her hair before squeezing her cheeks. “No, but I wish it was. Golden popcorn sounds delicious, doesn’t it, bug?” She replied back with a grin, making the little girl giggle as she went back to her drawing.

[Y/N]’s gaze averted away from the little girl toward her computer screen. Her heart fluttered, along with a swarm of butterflies erupting inside her stomach as the screen showed the live broadcast of the MTV Awards. She cleared her throat and fixed her hair, watching the countdown on the screen.

“While [Y/N] [Y/L/N] couldn’t be here with us physically, she’s here live with us right now to receive the award! Everyone, give it up for our favorite Marvel superhero, [Y/N]!” The host announced, and the actress smiled as she heard the crowd cheer from the computer screen.

[Y/N]’s smile widened, using her other hand to wave at the screen. “Thank you all so so much for voting! It marks almost 10 years of being apart of the MCU franchise, and having your love and support means the world to me!” She said with another bright smile as she held the heavy award tightly into her hands.

“Winning Best Actress two years in a row is something that I’m very honored and proud of, and I will continue to work hard and aiming for the best!” She continued as her eyes were glued to the screen, not being aware of Alex almost tip toeing behind her with a bowl of green slime placed into his calloused hands.

[Y/N] continued with her speech, being too focused to not notice everyone around her holding their breath as they watched Alex sauntering toward her with a grin.

Amelia noticed him and was about to say something, but stopped once she saw him placing a finger to his lips. She glued her mouth shut by placing her hands on her mouth. Her muffled giggles earned [Y/N]’s attention for a brief second, but she didn’t let that disturb her and went back with her speech.

Katie grimaced, sitting beside Jamie as the couple watched the spectacle in front of them. “He’s not gonna do it, right?” She whispered, looking at her husband with a look.

Jamie pressed his lips together to stifle back a laugh. He quietly snickered and nodded his head. “Oh, yes. Just watch.”

[Y/N] felt a presence standing beside her, but she ignored it as she was about to finish with her heartfelt speech to her fans. “Lastly, I wanna thank my wonderful cast members, and—“ she managed to say before her speech was interrupted by her audible gasp.

Nick and Miles doubled with laughter as they watched Alex pouring green slime on her. Amelia shrieked with laughter and grimaced, watching the ooze smearing down her face.

[Y/N] felt a sticky, cold and thick matter being poured on her head. She let the award hit her lap with a small yelp, feeling the heavy liquid trickling down her neck and she whirled her head to her husband.

“Alex, what the heck?!” She loudly chided. Her mouth bit back a curse word, noticing Amelia being in the room with them. She closed her mouth and furiously wiped off the slime from her face.

Alex, who was grinning like a child, inched closer to the screen, waving at the live broadcast before turning his attention to his wife. “It’s MTV, you just got slimed!”

Jamie face-palmed with a laugh, leaning his body against Katie, who was a mess from laughing. “Oh, Alex.”

The actress gagged and spit out the slime from her mouth before looking at him with an annoyed look. “That’s Nickelodeon!” She growled, trying to brush off the sticky texture out from her shirt but failing.

Alex looked back and forth from his wife and to the bowl that was placed into his hands. His face faltered for a moment and hummed as he realized. “Oh.”

His response earned another loud session of laughter. Matt and Breana captured the scene with their phones. Jamie and Katie were almost falling off the couch from laughing. Nick and Miles pointed their finger to the lead vocalist with a loud cackle, dying at his response.

[Y/N] was fuming and she mumbled incoherent things as she used her sleeve to remove the slime. She looked at the camera, giving them a tip-lipped smile. She heard the crowd going crazy at Alex’s appearance and she chuckled. Crimson danced across her cheeks and she felt blood rush through her ears, forgetting that they were live. “Well, this is gonna be all they’re gonna talk about on Twitter.” She told her viewers, waving to the camera before closing her computer.

[Y/N] felt him inch closer and she swatted his hands away at his attempt to remove the slime from her hair. “Don’t—Don’t touch me, Alexander.” She said in a stern voice, taking the towel away from his hands.

Amelia stood up from her seat and rushed over to her and grabbed the towel to clean her face. “Let me, Auntie!”

[Y/N]’s face softened at the little girl, closing her eyes as she let her do the work. She gently squeezed her hand, “Thank you, bug.”

Alex stifled back a laugh and nodded his head. He was trying so hard not to crack, and as much as he tried to hold it in he couldn’t. His chest vibrated from laughter and he slapped his knees before collapsing on the couch beside her.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes, her lips curving upwards unknowingly at the sound of his laughter. She opened her eyes, meeting Amelia’s doe-eyes staring right back at her with a toothy grin, which she returned. Her gaze averted way from her toward the others, a small scowl etched onto her face watching her friends still crying and dying from laughter.

“Are you guys done?”

Miles wiped his eyes with his hand and cleared his throat, giving her an apologetic look. “Sorry, love, but you should’ve seen Alex’s face—it was memorable!” He said, his voice cracking at the end making everyone double with laughter.

Amelia was in [Y/N]’s arms and she shifted her body so that she was facing her. “You should give uncle Al a hug.” The little girl said, eyes tinted with slight playfulness and wiggling her eyebrows making the actress chuckle.

Alex’s head shot up toward Amelia, giving her a pout before quickly standing up from the couch. He let out another breathy laugh as he slowly backed away. “Oh, c’mon, Mia. Don’t give her any ideas.” He pleaded, grimacing as he watched her standing up from the couch.

“What a great idea, Amelia. Alex, honey, I forgive you. Now come here you deserve a hug.” She said with a sweet smile as she sauntered toward him with her arms wide open.

Alex cocked his head to the side, shaking his head with a deep scowl. “You know what, I think I’m good.” He brushed her off as he walked backwards and nearly tripping on his feet.

“You don’t want my hugs?” She asked with furrowed eyebrows, her lips turning into a downwards pout. She wanted to laugh at his horrified expression, watching as he used Miles as his shield.

“My hair is freshly gelled, I don’t want to ruin it. Darling, we have a show in a few—“ he excused behind Miles, who was still cackling, and bolted away mid sentence and ran to the door.

[Y/N] scoffed and sprinted toward the door. “Oh, so you’re worried about your hair?! I spend three hours on mine! You’re lucky I’m not divorcing your ass for this!” She yelled at him as she chased him.

“And I got all of this on camera!”

[cr4yolaas]

blue spring — caving in

prev: spaces inbetween | masterlist | next: remember to be patient!

when he gets to her apartment, he feels like an intruder.

he stands outside the front door, an iced coffee in hand (specially made by kuroo) and an apology in his head, carefully scripted out during his trip. soft pitter patters of slippers against old wood draw closer, and he recognizes it as her. she pauses for a second before welcoming him in. something is off.

they continue as usual. he sits across from her on the carpet, listening intently while she draws out guides to illustrate each concept for him. she's focused -- more than usual -- and he assumes it's because of how close the end is nearing.

he wonders if they'll continue this schedule when the semester ends. he hopes that, by fate, they end up in another class together, and they'll continue to meet up every thursday to talk about their friends and their bad professors and their upcoming tests. when he looks around her room, then at her, he realizes how out of reach that idea is.

she pauses for a minute so he can finish his notes, taking slow, tantalizing sips of the coffee. it's the same flavor he got her the first time, laced with lavender and cinnamon.

deep inside, there's a flicker of hope that she mentions it. that, once the studying is over, they'll have a calm and composed conversation about what happened last wednesday.

but she never does, at least not for a while. she sits in silence, her distance -- both physical and emotional -- evident in the way she looks away and doesn't say a word. the apology he crafted minutes before he arrived returns to his head, and he's about to gift it to her, heartfelt words and all, until she says something first.

"you didn't ruin anything, if that's what you're thinking." her voice wafts throughout the room and pulls him out of his thoughts. he recalls the punch he threw and the red imprint blossoming on her stepfather's jaw, the image burned into his retinas for an eternity. he still feels bad for it, but with the way she reacted to his appearance, he isn't sure if he should feel any guilt for the man. "i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable, though."

"you didn't. not at all," he rushes. a dusting of pink coats the tips of his ears, and she finds it amusing. memories of the hallway slowly seep in. he remembers his palms on her skin and their foreheads ghosting against one another. he remembers the call from tsukishima, his concern piercing through the phone's speaker. he remembers sitting on the edge of her bathtub, an ice pack held to his face while she tended to his torn knuckles in silence, and he questions what it meant to her.

the physical space between them seems to grow the more the quietude drags on. she can't find it in herself to look at him any longer, in fear of making another impulsive decision.

her life has been thrown off balance, she realizes. no longer is there solely an overwhelming drive for success, so much so that it renders her entire being secure and alone. another factor has been implemented into her daily life. she doesn't know how to handle it.

she thinks of the years spent devoted to her studies, consisting of late nights in libraries and incoherent notes that only made sense to her. she thinks of her passion for art that had been slowly sharpened and refined until it was no longer a skill, but a weapon against herself and her well-being. she thinks of the dreams of the little girl trapped within the confines of her heart, who yearned every day to separate from what she had grown into and become something more. she wonders where he would fit into that, should she allow him to, and if he'd willingly bear the burden of her being.

the gentle thump of her heart against her chest escalates when she looks up to find him staring back. there's something resolute in his eyes as if he's come to a conclusion. a moment of rationality slips through -- she needs to catch up. she needs to restore her former fervor and pick up the pieces she'd left behind, even if it means spending hours upon hours dedicated to work once more. but kageyama tobio has proven to be the strongest opposition to the rules she had crafted for herself since her youth.

so she caves in.

the call of his name from her lips shifts the air around them. her coffee is long forgotten, the condensation wetting the fluff of her carpet. there's another pause before she asks him why he wouldn't mind, although she knows the answer already. she just wants to hear it from him. just to make sure.

"because i like you. a lot."

a small crack of a smile forms on her face, and he finds it much too infectious. he doesn't know why he's so drawn to her. he doesn't know why his hands gravitate towards her waist, allowing him to lean forward and kiss her again, without a bloodied nose and marred knuckles. he doesn't know why he can't break away from her, even with her hands loosely hanging on his shoulders.

it's still instinctual. but this time, she doesn't mind it as much.

𝜗𝜚 yn was genuinely so upset at herself for the whole week of no contact because she's not used to being so vulnerable for one person. she was trying to convince herself that it was wrong this whole time (bc she had goals, both artistic and academic) but clearly she can only put up a fight for so long bc kageyama was so insistent on disrupting the routine she had grown so accustomed to

𝜗𝜚 bokuto genuinely does believe they had sex in the hallway (it's his way of showing support)

𝜗𝜚 yachi and yamaguchi debriefed the entire situation in tsukishima's room (he complained outwardly, but he's rlly invested) and they're so happy but also so shocked bc of how much kags was willing to do for her despite how off-putting yn was at times LOL

𝜗𝜚 post makeout yn revealed that she had not in fact kissed anyone before bc of her grudge against herself (swearing off romance in exchange for her success yada yada) and kags genuinely was so shocked

𝜗𝜚 he did go home afterwards bc he felt bad for staying so long

𝜗𝜚 yn definitely wanted to ask him to stay the night (because it felt right, but in all honesty she's very clueless when it comes to situations like these) but she decided not to because it was just so out of character for her

𝜗𝜚 kageyama will never stop thinking about this tutoring session like ever he is so smitten with yn and he definitely feels very achieved. all he wants is for her to be happy </3

taglist: @mfcherry @eggyrocks @scxrcherr @yuminako @girlkissersco @diorzs @causenessus @kyo-kyo1 @k0z3me @shironagi @lovingvi @bunninio @hisfuture @lilchubbyyy @gsyche @ghostreader0307 @fiannee @minimarkive

[theregencywriter]

(1) A Gentlemen's Pursuit - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

~Colin returns from his travels with a new friend many expect him to marry, though he had no intentions of this. His brother benedict however, may need to....~

My Dearest Readers,

Oh, how the social elites continue to delight us with their ever-unfolding dramas and whispers of romance. Today, I bring forth the most intriguing news, for it appears that the charming Colin Bridgerton is about to be reunited with an old acquaintance, one whom he met on his travels abroad, and whose arrival is sure to set hearts aflutter.

It is my pleasure to reveal that she plans to stay in London indefinitely and will soon grace the city with her presence. Yes, my dear readers, the very same Miss l/n who has long been rumoured as the top contender for Colin’s affection.

Allow me to remind you of the history shared between Miss y/n l/n and Mr. Colin Bridgerton. They had first met during Colin’s travels around Europe, where they would frolic about the ruins of cities past, engrossed in the innocence of youth. Over their respective journeys, their paths diverged, and Miss l/n’s star rose within many a country’s social leagues, while Mr. Bridgerton pursued his fair share of less than respectable women. But as fate would have it, their paths are destined to converge once again.

Whispers of their reunion have already begun to circulate, and I can assure you, dear readers, that it promises to be a meeting of hearts and minds. Miss l/n’s wit, intellect, and unassuming beauty have long been expected to captivate the hearts of society, while Mr. Bridgerton's reputation as a debonair gentleman precedes him wherever he goes. One cannot help but wonder if their friendship will blossom into something more.

With Miss l/n's arrival imminent, I can only imagine the delight that will permeate the Bridgerton household. I envision stolen glances, heartfelt conversations, and perhaps even the rekindling of a flame that has smoldered quietly for ages. How thrilling it will be to witness the unfolding of this tale!

Thus, dear readers, I implore you to keep your eyes peeled and your ears open, for it is in these quiet moments that love often finds a way to take hold. Let us revel in the enchantment that surrounds the Bridgertons, for it is a testament to the enduring power of love and the possibility of second chances.

Yours in anticipation,

Lady Whistledown…

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

"Martine, must I endure this uncomfortable posture any longer? My arms are beginning to ache" Y/N pleaded, shifting in her seat while maintaining a firm grip on her fan. Its delicate feathers trembled slightly as she stole a glance through the window, yearning for a moment of respite. With an exasperated sigh, her stepmother’s maid responded, her voice tinged with impatience, "Yes, my dear, you must persist. The eager onlookers outside await your arrival. Remember, tomorrow night is your grand debut; a mere glimpse shall suffice."

The carriage advanced closer to the Bridgerton residence, nestled proudly within the esteemed Grosvenor Square. Y/N's eyes fell upon the grandeur of the house, causing her to lower her fan momentarily in awe. However, her maid's sharp instincts brought it back up. Inside of the home, the Bridgerton children played in the lavish drawing room alongside their e mother, while Eloise and Penelope accompanying them. During their gathering, a butler entered the room, his presence commanding attention, and announced with utmost formality, "Miss Y/N has arrived."

Upon hearing the news, Colin sprang from his seat with an eagerness that did not elude Penelope's keen observation. Since his return, he had not stopped speaking about his and Y/N's journey, leading Penelope to suspect that a proposal might be imminent. Despite never having met Y/N, a hidden resentment grew within her, concealed behind a carefully crafted smile.

The Bridgerton family sat in their residence anxiously awaiting her arrival, anticipation filling the air like a palpable force. Colin, though outside, found it difficult to contain his restless energy. He had spoken of Y/N with such fervour and adoration since his return that his family couldn't help but share in his excitement.

As they gathered near the entrance of the door to gaze down the hallway the Bridgerton siblings exchanged eager glances, their faces alive with curiosity. Eloise held her breath, a blend of sisterly anticipation and genuine interest for the newest addition to their social circle. Anthony, the dutiful older brother, attempted to maintain a stoic facade, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of intrigue. The younger siblings—Benedict, Colin's closest confidant, and Francesca—buzzed with whispers and barely contained excitement.

Their mother exuded an air of quiet authority as she surveyed the scene. A mix of hope and maternal concern danced in her eyes, for she wished nothing more than for her children to find happiness in love.

Finally, the sound of hooves reached their ears, growing louder with each passing moment. The tension in the air intensified as the carriage, adorned with elegant embellishments, came into view. The horses pranced along the beaten cobbled road, their coats reflecting the balmy afternoon sunlight.

With bated breath, the Bridgertons watched as the carriage gracefully came to a stop. The footman quickly descended, his precise movements reflecting the well-honed routines of the household. The door swung open, revealing Y/N, resplendent in a gown that blended sophistication and allure. The light caught her eyes, sparkling with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation.

As Y/N exited from the carriage, Colin's gaze locked onto her, his heart pounding within his chest. His eyes conveyed a mixture of awe and longing, as though he had found in Y/N something he had been searching for all his life.

The Bridgerton family, like a unit frozen in time, stood in awe of this new arrival. It was as if the world held its breath, recognizing the significance of this moment. Each member of the family had their own hopes and expectations, their own secrets and desires, intertwined with the arrival of Y/N—a figure who they had heard so much about.

After being helped out of the carriage y/n ran up to Colin, who picked her up by the waist and joyfully spun her around. The two shared a laugh that faded into glee as he lowered her down, their eyes still locked. “You’re here.” He spoke.

“I’m here” she returned.

Colin, ever the eager matchmaker, took Y/N's arm, guiding her towards the entrance of the house. His eyes shone with uncontainable delight as he led her through the hallway.

Within the drawing room, the Bridgerton siblings awaited their arrival, their gazes shifting from the entrance to Colin's expectant face. Among them stood Benedict, the second eldest Bridgerton brother, known by y/n for his artistic abilities.

As Colin and Y/N entered the room, the murmurs hushed, and all eyes turned towards the pair. Benedict's attention was instantly captivated by the sight of Y/N, a vision of beauty and elegance. He analysed the delicate brushstrokes of her features, the way her eyes seemed to hold a plethora of colours.

Colin performed the introductions with excitement. "Y/N, may I present my dear brother, Benedict Bridgerton," he announced, his voice carrying the weight of his fondness for both individuals. Benedict stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Y/N with curiosity.

Y/N curtsied gracefully, her movements reflecting a poise instilled by years of social etiquette. Benedict's eyes lingered on her, captivated by the grace and charm she exuded. He extended his hand, his touch gentle and warm as he took hers in his own. The moment their skin met, a jolt of electricity seemed to pass between them.

Their first words were exchanged, simple pleasantries that masked the intensity of the moment. Yet, beneath the surface, a silent understanding seemed to grow—a recognition of shared interests and hidden desires.

As she was introduced to the rest of the group Penelope stood next to Eloise. y/n curtsied towards her and smiled. “You must be Eloise. I’ve heard so much about you.” Y/n smiled, and as the real Eloise grinned Penelope struggled to keep composure. “I am not. I am Penelope Featherington, Eloise and Colins friend” Y/n apologised and continued on with her introductions, though she could not deny the burning feeling of Penelope’s eyes as she stared at her.

Colin stood next to Benedict as the other end of the line. “Rather beautiful is she not?” Colin said in passing.

“Yes, she is.” Benedict said as his voice trailed off, eyes fixated on her.

[homelanderbutbig]

His Favourite Pet Name (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1102 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

Homelander is a professional couch cuddler.

It's a lazy afternoon in Homelander's penthouse, a rare occasion where you both have a bit of time off to unwind. His gloves are resting on the coffee table as he is sprawled across his couch, with his head held up on the armrest. You're cuddling on top of his huge body, with your head perched on his chest.

Homelander's left arm is draped around you as he contently grasps onto your petite form, while his right arm is down next to you so you can hold his bare hand. You draw pictures in the softness of his palm, doodling various animals and scenery. Entirely fixated, he watches you use his skin as your personal canvas, cherishing the feeling of your fingers. Writing 'I love you' into his palm, you glance up to spot him grinning so wide you can see his pearly white fangs. He wishes he could do the same to your own hand, but just one of his large fingers could barely draw a circle in your tiny palm.

Seeing his pleased expression suddenly gives you an idea. Fascinated, he watches as you gradually flip over so your stomach is on his chest. His smile disappears as he swallows in anticipation, staring as you reach both your hands out to scratch his undercut. The second you make contact with his hair, he is fluttering his eyes shut and sighing heartily. 

"Mmmmm…" Homelander purrs, completely undone by your loving touch. His voice is so deep that you practically feel your whole body vibrate from the rumbling in his chest. It's a weird sensation, almost as if you're lying on a massage chair. Yet it's something you've grown to appreciate, all the little noises he makes when you drag your nails along his scalp. You know that he only does this for you, because you're the only one who can make him feel that heavenly.

Homelander can't fight the urge to clutch your body a little tighter than he'd prefer, but you know he just wants to feel closer to you. Besides, he would never hurt you. You giggle as he practically whimpers when you scratch just the right spot, wishing he could bury himself in your masterful fingers.

It's a funny sight seeing him like this. At work, he's a totally different person; a beast disguised as a man in a superhero suit, striking fear and awe into the hearts of millions. Once he is alone with you, any masquerade he was previously wearing disintegrates to reveal the kind, tender boy Homelander tries so hard to conceal. Sure, he could just pay some random schmuck to pet his head, but it wouldn't be the same. No one else would understand his needs like you do, and how much he craves to be doted on with your unconditional devotion. You do this for him, because you love him as much as he loves you.

Enveloping your small frame around both hands, he gently lifts you nearer to his face. His expression is so serene from how relaxed you’ve made him, his worries completely forgotten from your heartfelt affections. He brings you in for a kiss, involuntarily keening as he savours your warmth.

"Mmmph… love you… love you…" Homelander whispers in between kisses, repeating himself until he's drowning in your plush lips.

"Love you too, big boy," you hum as you bring your hands to his cheeks, feeling a smile spread across his lips while he exhales deeply through his nose.

Although he would never admit it to anyone, Homelander has always been self-conscious about his height. He has only ever heard the word 'big' used to describe him in a negative context… a big freak, a big monster, a big demonic goliath. Even if he killed everybody who insulted him like that, it would never heal the scars that were carved into his psyche. He knows the truth, that his 'adoring public' sees him as an inhuman giant.  

When you first started giving him pet names, he was enthralled at everything you would call him. Each name was just as special as the last. He beamed at every 'sweetheart', 'honey' and 'darling' that rolled off your tongue so easily, solely for his ears.

One day you happened to test out a new name, 'big boy'. At first you were worried you made a mistake upon seeing his face twitch and his eyes turn glassy, like you brought back some terrible memories. In reality, Homelander was so utterly overwhelmed to hear someone not use his height in a derogatory way, for what felt like the first time in his life. From then on it became his favourite pet name, and he always smiles at hearing those sweet words you speak so earnestly. There is nothing that makes him more proud than to hear that he is your big boy.

Eventually, you both break from your passionate kisses, but stay close to nuzzle your noses together. You stroke along his jawline with your thumbs, admiring the tranquil silence of the penthouse as if nothing else matters in this world except for you and Homelander.

"I never did thank you," he remarks, dreamily gazing into your eyes. He still has both of his hands on you, resuming his dainty touches along your back.

"For what, sweetie?" you question, unable to mask the slight confusion on your face. Lightly chuckling at the way you tilt your head at his words, he moves one of his hands to caress your face with his enormous thumb and finger.

"For the pet name," he tells you candidly, loving how perfectly your face fits in his hand, like it was always meant to be there. "You really have no idea how much it means to me. I wish I could show you."

"You already have," you promise him, kissing him delicately on his nose. "My big boy."

You laugh as Homelander peppers your face with more kisses, the both of you smiling as he showers you with his neverending appreciation.

There are days where he wishes that he was shorter, so he wouldn't have to deal with the horrified looks and isolation he felt from the general population. The way they perceive him to be a gigantic killing machine. But then, there are days where you are the shining beacon breaking through his dark and stormy mind. You let him feel glad that he is the way he is, otherwise he could never live up to your pet name. 

It doesn't matter what the peons have to say, as long as Homelander gets to be your big boy.

[anxious-witch]

Okay part two on Bojan's photoshoot analysis. Part one is here, so without further ado, let's get started.

As always these are entirety subjective and my own opinion, you are free to disagree and add on your thoughts as long as you aren't being a dick about it

Starting off strong, we have Bojan, only in his underwear, smoking a cigaratte and looking into the camera.

His face is tortured, and he is smoking, implying once again, that he needs something to keep his feeling, his anxiety at bay. But you can still see his inner turmoil on his face.

His pose is more relaxed than I'd expect, though. He isn't flexing and despite being in only his underwear, his pose isn't drawing attention to his body. In that moment, he is vulnerable enough to expose it, and letting it be soft and real. Although his face makes me feel like this is due to exhaustion rather than true show of trust.

The flowers in the corner are very interesting too. Thank you to @theraggedygirl11 and @wild-joker-out-pleasures for helping me identify them as hydrangeas. I think this particular bit is very symbolic for Bojan here:

"The etymological meaning of hydrangea stems from the Greek words for water, hydros and jar, angos. It was given to the plant because of its shape resembling an ancient water pitcher. How fitting, since hydrangeas require constant moisture to stay happy, healthy and blooming.

While everyone seems to agree that hydrangea care includes a lot of watering, the symbolism of the flowers varies drastically between cultures. In Japan, the flower is associated with heartfelt emotion, understanding and apology. The Japanese emperor apparently made a lasting impression not only on his girlfriend’s family but also the rest of his empire. The hydrangea can further symbolize unity and togetherness.

Contrastingly, hydrangeas have a negative sentiment in Europe where they were used to declare arrogance and boastfulness. This association is based on the ability of the plant to produce many flowers but very few seeds. English men in the 1800s used to send hydrangeas to women who rejected them, accusing them of frigidity. Thanks to the Victorian men’s poor attitude and lack of empathy, it is believed that young women who grow hydrangeas in their front yard will never get married. In other words: if you’ve been unlucky in finding a partner, maybe you should check your grounds for hydrangeas."

And man, what a message to send! Once again, Damon plays with the duality of Bojan. Is he someone boastful, a playboy who cares about nobody, like so many people perceive him? Or is he heartfeal, and full of emotion?

Also to have a flower that needs constant water to bloom next to a man whose element in this photoshoot is fire? God, Damon, I am in your walls.

In all seriousness tho, Damon is very much not subtly implying that Bojan need to keep himself nourished on things that make him bloom, or he will burn out.

This fuether repeats here. I already analyzed these photos in a previous part, but with this quote it confirms my above statement. Don't let your anxiety and expectations of others break your heart. You are allowed to be fragile and vulnerable. You have to be, or you'll get burned.

God, these three. To start from the top one, once again we have a more rugged look from Bojan. I am not sure if he is wearing makeup, or if it's the light, but it looks like there is thick, black eyeliner framing his eyes. We also have spikes and a leather shirt. His arms are in a very boxy position, his hands behind his head and he is looking directly into the camera.

This pose actually reminds me of the pose one has to do before being arrested in the movies. Literally holding his hands behind his head. The defiant look on his face. Like he is surrendering, but it's against his will, he is still protesting this show of vulnerability. His defiant gaze seems almost taunting, almost asking if we are entertained by what we are seeing.

Also I know a lot of people said the addition of Slovenian flag feels random and goofy, but I'd say this shows how in a way, Bojan is carrying that weight of now forever representing Slovenia. They went to ESC, but Bojan never fully went back. He can't-now they are forever tied as a band that represents the country.

And that isn't a bad thing, but it's a pressure on his shoulders, a need to keep up the facade of a tough playboy everyone seems to want him to be.

Immediately followed by the picture on the bottom left. A literal scream, resembling the picture The Scream by Edvard Munch, which @reverse-strawberry-milk already pointed out. The weight of his emotions caught up to him, you can practically hear his torture scream here, the facade crumbling completely.

And then, a completely switch in the picture three. He is soft, trusting. Open. One of his eyes is even closed. He doesn't have to be fully focused on the camera. He doesn't have to play it up for the invisible crowd, he can just relax.

And at last, these last three. First two play up with the elements we previously saw, first one show duality of Bojan's soft expression with such a rugged outfit, calling back to the broken hearted belt and fragility he feels he is destined to hide behind countless layers.

Second one features a cigarette again. Fire is dangerous, but so enticing, just as cigarettes are. How far are you willing to destroy and poison yourself to be entertaining? How much are you willing to burn out, to keep reaching out fir cigarettes to calm you, before you have to take a break and find a healthier way to deal with your anxiety?

Last one, an even fuller, better version of the soft picture from part one. He is wearing soft jumper Damon borrowed him, the one he feels safe in. This is not a face of someone who had a mental breakdown just moments before like in the black and white picture, no. This is full circle. Acceptance and healing. It's in color because Damon didn't want any harsh lines here, which happen in black and white even when the face is smoothed out.

No-this one is fully for Bojan to see himself in the best way he can be. Soft and trusting. "Promise me something? I'll keep creating for you and I. But you have to also. Go create. No boundaries. Let it all out."

What a way to show all that! Let it all out. All the anger, despair, anxiety, expectations. Because there is always softness underneath all that. When you strip all of it, what is left, but you?

Anyway, I got a bit carried away there at the end, my bad, but I genuinely adore the subtle storytelling Damon does via his photos. I love that Kris has a lot more separate headshots, while Bojan has several pictures all at once. Once again, a hint towards someone showing openness vs someone being torn between two possible versions of themselves.

As always, if you have ajy additional thoughts, feel free to add them, I love hearing other peoole's opiniom on this!

[aurora-starwars]

hii could i request a neteyam fic where y/n (she/ her) is captured at the start of the movie and neteyam saves her and its angsty but fluff and heartfelt at the end

Life Is The Flower For Which Love Is The Honey

Pairing: Neteyam x fem!reader

Summary: When reader is captured by dream walkers, Neteyam is determined to save her

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: some angst, some swearing I think

A/n: Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you like it! I enjoyed writing it! Let me know if you want a part 2! <3333333333

Masterlist

[Name] was running.

Running as fast as she could from the monster that had only been told to her through stories.

She didn’t know where she was going or what her plan was, all she knew was to get as far away as possible. Jumping over roots and ducking under branches, [Name] tried to ignore the beauty of Pandora in order to survive. But as she continued to run, the life around her became all too distracting.

She hadn’t been running long, but the her adrenaline carried her far. Finally slowing down, she found herself to be familiar with the area. Hearing roar of water crashing into the river below, only reenforced her thinking.

Looking around, admiring the beauty around her, [Name] gave herself a moment to think.

[Name] could only wonder if the others got out, hoping they got away from the seemingly reincarnated monster.

They had only been exploring when the dream walkers found them. They grabbed their queues and holding them at gun point. One man, the monster himself, insisted that they tell him where Jake Sully was. [Name] couldn’t understand how he could comeback when it had been clear he was dead. [Name] had beginning to lose hope when she heard Neytiri’s call signs from deep within the trees. The five kids looked at one another, forming a silent plan to escape at the first chance they got.

The moment [Name] had heard the familiar ‘fwip’ sound of Neytiri’s arrow brushed past her ears, she made a beeline for the trees, watching as the others tried to do the same.

[Name] looked up into the trees above her, the sky appeared to be approaching eclipse meaning it was close for the sun to leave them for the night again. [Name] hoped that would mean that the dream walkers would return to their base as they did not know how to survive the night.

Once again admiring the bioluminescent wildlife around her, [Name] took the quiet moment to enjoy the forest. Taking a seat against the tree, she thought about the glowing flowers beside her. Reaching out to tap the leaf gently, [Name] was reminded of why she and Kiri got along so well. Kiri seemed to have a gift with her connection to Eywa while [Name] couldn’t help but fall in love with the world around her. [Name] smiles, thinking of what Neteyam said about–.

[Name]’s ears twitch, her thought long forgotten as she hears the shuffling of leaves and the loud crunches of footsteps. Back firmly pressed against the back of the tree, [Name] curled in on herself in attempt to hide. Holding her breath, she heard the footsteps draw near. She curses to herself internally.

Skxawng.

She knows these are not the foots of an animal or a fellow na’vi. And she knows that she is not going to be able to run again this time. She only wished she ran another way, kept running, or even climbed the tree she was currently resting against.

Skxawng.

She cursed herself again. How could she be this naïve? She knew better. But as she looked up to see the monster himself grinning down at her, she knew she should have kept running. Her gasp was instantly met with a quick strike to the back of her head, knocking her out cold.

.ೃ࿐

“Where is she?!” Neteyam was get anxious at this point. Where the hell was [Name]?

Neteyam knew something was wrong the moment they got back and [Name] didn’t run to him immediately. For the first while, he was just happy that his siblings were safe and unscathed. But as time went on, and his beloved was still out there, his worry started to bubble over. It didn’t take long before his thoughts leaped to the worst.

What if she was hurt?

Neteyam started pacing.

What if she was attacked?

Neteyam’s heart started racing.

What if she was taken?

Neteyam struggled with the thoughts he was facing.

What if she was killed?

Neteyam sucked in air at the thought, feeling his hands shake, he went to hold his bow. He had to shake the thought from his head, [Name] was skilled, she would manage on her own.

But as he tried to calm himself, Spider came running into the hut.

Breathing heavily, he managed: “Guys! They’ve taken [Name]!”

Neteyam’s heart sank. He swears he could feel the blood drain from his face.

“They have her, the avatars! The sky people have her!” Spider exclaimed, finally regaining his breath.

Neteyam’s mind was a mess. How could he let her leave without him! How could he not have gone to save her and his siblings with his parents? Why weren’t you here with him!? He thought of the stories he has been told about the sky people and what they did to the Omatikaya clan. He couldn’t help but wonder what they would do to his [Name]. His precious, kidnapped [Name].

Neytiri tapped Neteyam’s shoulder, snapping him out of the spiral he was falling into. When he looked up at her, he found a furious look painted on her face. His mother had always treated [Name] like her own ever since Neteyam told her of his feelings a long time ago. He knew this. Neytiri was a passionate warrior, and a protective mother.

Seeing the determined look in her eye reminded him of the crime at hand.

The sky people took his [Name]. And he will be getting her back.

Just like that, Neteyam’s mind snapped back into place, and rage roared in his eyes.

As spider reported, they had just taken [Name] meaning they were probably still in the air; so they needed to act quickly. In quick words, he explained his plan to his mother before jumping on his Ikran and putting his plan into motion

.ೃ࿐

[Name] woke to the loud sounds of helicopter blades whirling rapidly. Sitting up with a gasp, she was met with the faces of the dream walkers who held her and the Sully kids captive.

“Well, look who’s up!” Quaritch exclaimed in english. The monster grinned in a manner that [Name] could only describe as wicked.

As the monster began to speak about his journey to pandora, [Name]’s eyes wondered to her environment. She was in a big metal flying ship as she understood, the forest far below her. Part of her was tempted to hurl herself off of the side through the very empty side doors, just to spite him. But with the dream walker behind her with a tight grip on her queue, that was out of the question.

Quaritch continued, speaking about how Jake had killed his original body and how he would not be killed so easily. [Name] was fighting hard not to roll her eyes, knowing that would not end well for her. Quaritch then spoke on how he wanted to kill Jake and all of his family, which tried to only respond with the tightening of her fist but she could not control the furrowing of her brows as she held a dark look.

It was clear this man had one goal and one goal only. And [Name] was another step on the way to achieving his goal.

And there was no way in any world that [Name] was going to let him touch even one member of the Sully family.

Just as Quaritch started to smirk at the [Name]’s reaction, his comms went off.

“Ummm, we have a herd of Ikran inbound 2 o’clock” Each passenger shifted their focus to the fleet of Ikran flying towards them.

The dream walker holding her queue let go in order to main the guns. It was rush to grab a weapon and [Name] was practically forgotten. But when she got a glimpse of the incoming hoard, she couldn’t help but smile.

She could see his Ikran.

She would be saved, but for now, she had to do her best to assist in this rescue mission. She watched as the hoard started to take down the ships surrounding her helicopter. Quick arrows flashed in then out of her vision as they wizzed by her, taking out the gun men on the surrounding ships.

It was chaos, the flurry of Ikrans brought so much colour that [Name] couldn’t help but find it beautiful. A cheer sounded as someone flew past her on a familiar Ikran. She could hear Neytiri shout something before resuming her archery.

Two arrows suddenly shot down the two gun man on the right side of the ship, and [Name] moved to see Neteyam’s determined eyes looking right back at her. She only nodded, watching as he made a quick movement in another direction.

[Name] knew what this meant and she knew what Neteyam was about to attempt. Readying herself, she looked back to see if Quaritch and the other dream walkers were paying attention. But seeing them very much preoccupied, she took a step a way from the edge of the helicopter. Taking a deep breath, [Name] waited for the signal. The anticipation was killing her and her heart rate only seemed to climb as she thought of what she was attempting. All of her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the ‘yip’.

Her body reacted immediately, she took one big, quick step to the edge and leaped off the platform under her. Reaching out, her heart dropped with the sensation of the fall.

It wasn’t even seconds before Neteyam grabbed her arm from underneath her as his Ikran flew up, directly vertical in order to catch her. [Name] was quick to hold on to Neteyam as he levelled out. To say [Name]’s grip was an understatement, letting go of Neteyam was the last thing she wanted to do.

As Neteyam made for their base, he brought his hand to cover [Name]’s, a tear rolling down his cheek.

“I’ve got you, yawne. Nga yawne lu oer.”

yawne = beloved

Nga yawne lu oer = “I love you” (You beloved are to me)

A/n: Thank you for reading! Feel free to request! Here is the request guidelines, just makes it easier for me! <333333

Master-list

Tag list: @nyotamalfoy

[onyxbird]

OK, the idea of a soulmate au where you can't look anyone but your soulmate directly in the eyes was not done with me yet.

Leverage version:

Sophie knows all the tricks for faking full eye contact. For a third-party observer, it's nigh-impossible to tell that she's not quite achieving direct eye contact short of using cameras with very good eye-tracking software. Trying to fool a mark into thinking she's their soulmate via “eye contact” is tougher, but on a mark who hasn't met their own soulmate (and thus has never experienced true full eye contact), Sophie still has a pretty good success rate. Every member of the team has been drafted as her fake soulmate on a con at least once. Or, at least, Sophie has tried. Parker failed to pick up on any of the hints Sophie was able to drop without blowing their cover, so Sophie had to switch tactics. Hardison tried valiantly to hold the near-eye-contact, and they pulled off the job, but he was struggling and his resulting nervous blather did not help the illusion at all. Eliot picked up her cues and pulled off the illusion flawlessly… and hated every second of it. The first time they faked prolonged eye contact, he ducked away to Nate's bathroom the second they got in the door, and Sophie (slightly insulted) wondered if he was going to throw up. He didn't, just practically boiled his skin off in the hottest shower he could stand. Nate is by far Sophie's most frequent “soulmate” on the job… None of the rest of the team are entirely sure whether the eye contact is fake or not, and neither Nate nor Sophie is telling.

Parker has never had any interest in making eye contact, and was genuinely unaware that this was a serious thing people actually believe in. (Sure, people talk about finding their “soulmate” through eye contact, but people also talk about summoning Bloody Mary through the bathroom mirror. That doesn't mean it's real.) The first time she looked directly into Hardison's eyes was both accidental and jarring. She averted her eyes and assumed they would never mention this uncomfortable situation again. She was not expecting Hardison to suddenly want to have an intense, excited conversation that was clearly loaded with some meaning she wasn't picking up on, and she definitely wasn't expecting him to do so while trying to eagerly stare into her eyeballs. When Eliot happened to walk in, she latched onto him like a spooked cat, demanding he do something about Hardison; there was something wrong with him, like he's possessed or something; make him stop!

Eliot has habitually avoided even the possibility of eye contact with anyone since he was in high school. (He certainly wasn't trying to lock eyes with people even before that, but, well, he and Aimee had tried once, back when they were young and naive and thought maybe they were meant to be. They weren't.) In his line of work… it was better not to know. There was just no way that would end well. He doesn't have anything against other people finding their soulmates, though. Really. So he's not quite sure why there's such a bite to his words when he snaps at Hardison to knock it off—that “soulmates” is no excuse for trying to look someone in the eye when they don't like it. But he's sure he can feel a headache forming as he's stuck between Parker's “'Soulmates'! Ha! …Oh, come on. You're kidding, right? That's not real” from one side and Hardison's horrified “Oh my god, I'm sorry! Parker, I am so, so sorry—I was just so excited, you know? I didn't realize—” start of what was clearly going to be a long and heartfelt apology on the other.

Hardison thinks soulmates are very romantic, and he's always hoped, you know? He tries not to talk too openly about it—dreaming of finding your soulmate was deemed “girly” and “wussy” by the popular boys at his high school, and he had more than enough targets on his back for bullying as a kid without drawing attention this one. He's always kind of thought he'd probably never find his, if he even had one. He did so much of his socializing with like-minded people online, and you can't make eye contact—not real eye contact—over a webcam. There have been some near misses that made his heart flip (Hell, back during that first Dubenich job, when Eliot had taken out all the Pierson guards and then given him that smug little smirk, for an instant—just for an instant—Hardison had almost thought their eyes met directly. He must have imagined it, too caught up in the incredibly sexy and unexpected display of competence on display in front of him to avoid a split second of daydreaming about what it would feel like to look straight into those incredibly blue eyes. Anyway, it had never happened again, and after working together for so long, they surely would have looked each other in the eyes by now if it were possible.), but no dice. Until now. Parker, though… Even while apologizing (he should have realized to be more careful with Parker), Hardison could barely keep the absolutely giddy smile off his face. There had been no mistaking that, and god when people talked about “getting lost” in their soulmate's eyes… Wow, they weren't kidding!

Nate will expound at length about how the concept of “soulmates” and consequently the act of making eye contact have been exploited and commercialized for all of recorded history, the absence of any scientific evidence that the rare ability to make eye contact with another person actually correlates with any real measures of relationship compatibility rather than being a random biological quirk that has been superstitiously fetishized, and (if the person who brought it up isn't desperately trying to escape the conversation yet) whether the concept soulmates is compatible with Catholic theology. Very few people last long enough through his disparagement of the entire concept to notice that he has skirted around ever actually saying whether or not he's ever made direct eye contact with another person, and even fewer are willing to risk touching off another lengthy tirade to press him on the matter.

Thanks @soulmate-au-bargain-bin for the fun idea!

[snekkerdoodles]

[OPTIONAL] Doodle Request/Challenge: Draw 2 Glitch Pokémon if they were members of a PMD Duo (I both would love to see how you'd approach this, but also I think the concept of two things that shouldn't be of this world wearing scarves that somehow fit while being on a team to save Pokémon is cute (Note that the easiest of the Glitch Pokémon to draw are the ever present Bad Egg, and the Generation III Question Mark Sprites).

Also, while I'm here, I just wanted to say I really enjoyed the Fangz name origin comic. Both something very heartfelt while also hilarious. I can't wait to see whatever you post next!

Thank you so much! This is such a sick idea btw. Notes/research under read more.

Two mysterious Pokemon that, despite their good intentions, should probably be avoided when seeking allies for dungeon runs. Other exploration teams assume that they came into existence during some sort of time distortion that occurred before temporal tower was fully repaired.

Em constantly carries around tons of berries in order to make up for the fact that being around her decreases her allies' ability to heal wounds naturally, not to mention that reviver seeds don't seem to work in her presence. Because Em's treasure bag is constantly filled to the brim with oran berries, she often forgets to pack other useful items.

Polly is a Pidgeotto... or perhaps a Noctowl? Her colors don't exactly make it very clear. She speaks in a song-like voice, and once your get her to start singing, it's very difficult (if not impossible) for her to stop, and there's many things that inspire her to start. In dungeons, her song has the ability to paralyze anyone who listens to it, even allies.

The egg the two carry with them has remained unhatched for a long time, so they've decided to try and take care of it on their own due to feeling bad about taking up space in Chansey's daycare. Most Pokemon have come to associate this egg with bad luck, so the two try their best to keep their eyes on it at all times so that nothing happens while they're not looking.

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

My blog is generally pretty lighthearted and I stick to reblogging art and fic and fun stuff, but you know what. I feel like I need to say this.

I am a trans teen in the US. I'm seventeen, so too young to have voted. I'm terrified for my life right now. I usually post about college but I'm actually concurrently enrolled in high school still and the kid who sits behind me in first period government is a massive Trump fanboy. I'm going to have to go to high school Monday and talk about the election. I'm going to have to hear my deadname called and hear people in my super conservative high school talk about how happy they are Trump won. Everything is terrifying. I walk outside of my house and I'm scared I'll be shot. Several months ago I promised that I'd kill myself if that bastard won.

He did and I'm still here.

I'm not thriving. I'm not living my best life. I'm barely living. But I'm surviving. I'm coping. I'm trying my goddamned best. It's hard. I want so bad to just go and take as much medication as I can and slit my wrist for good measure and pass away in my sleep. But I'm still here. And I will be here.

I am in so much pain. But I'm living on spite and determination and everything I can scrape together. I know I need support and those around me need support. So consider this a support masterpost.

Support:

First thing you should see if you're a trans person in the US.

Here's a link to the Trevor Project and here's a link to their suicide hotline page. They've already saved my life once before. Please note - they recommend calling if you need immediate support. Donate if you can, please.

This post is both a suicide hotline masterlist and a post mentioning how something feels deeply wrong here with this election.

On the topic of something being wrong, sign this petition. I'm only seventeen but I did this and it might not feel like much but if we couldn't shoot that bastard (I am not pro-gun but I am when it comes to him) then we'll do the next best thing. Here's the link to the petition itself. Make sure to check the post every once in a while - the original petition got taken down and this is important.

I follow a lot of gimmick blogs, so I got to see this post encouraging us to be loud. Because we should be. Because if we die they've won and my mom didn't smoke weed on the steps of the state capital of Colorado to legalize it just so her son could roll over and die.

Here is the Tumblr Hot Beverage Masterpost, as I've taken to calling it. My personal favorites are the London Fog in the replies, earl grey with milk, honey, and vanilla (in the tags), and some additions from me are hot chocolate with peppermint melted into it, earl grey with lavender, caramel apple tea, and really anything else you can think of. Trust me. This post works better than you think.

Read this post if you haven't seen it already. It's half poem, half Tumblr being Tumblr, all wonderful to read.

Things I just like to see:

PM Seymour and Bettina Levy both have shown their support for everyone struggling right now. It might not be much, but I still really appreciate it and seeing support can really help.

The cat with the kind and reassuring face. No other context.

Four panel comic of hope. Because you're more than enough.

Can't find the post where I found this but this is a link to a virtual toy where you can make your own galaxy.

Please. Eat something. Drink a hot beverage. Draw, write, read, knit, sew, sculpt, bake, do something that helps. Reach out to friends, even if they're online friends. Talk to someone you trust. Make vent art. Write vent fics. It doesn't matter what you do as long as it helps.

Do not roll over and die. Live. Live on spite. Live on determination. Live on shitposts and live on heartfelt stories like this one. If you have anything to add to this post please do. Add more resources. Add more love to this post. I know I'm just a guy on the internet saying shit, but I still care about everyone who sees this post.

[dmercer91]

i’m in a roll with luca and black cat-

anyway

black cat not knowing what to get luca’s parents, so she both gives them a few framed photos of the boys big moments, but also sketches one or two of them out on a canvas

and they’re so thankful, but don’t want yo make it awkward

and adam- because he beats luca to it- goes up to his parents while black cat goes to the restroom or soemthing an explains js how much it means fo ther to give them her drawings

and it makes luca all 🥹 for black cat and adam’s bond

i’ve come back from the dead (i’ve been gone for a day)

i was so tired last night i fell asleep on the couch and my dad had to bring me to my room like when i was 7

but i started a load of laundry so i could stay up and write (knowing something needs to be done before i sleep is the only way i can function i hate myself)

but yes!!!! she makes a series of these three moments from ushl to mich to draft day for their christmas present

but like the boys are isolated and the backgrounds are all white

the middle one she’d done for a project (nobody knows this and she will make sure it stays that way) where she had to paint something with like visible facial expressions

but she felt like that wasn’t enough so she made multiple

she showed them to luca before they left for the holidays and he nearly sobbed on the spot

like he hugged her and held her head and smooshed her hair around in excitement and told her how much he loved her

and the hug lasted so long

fantilli christmas’ | opposites attract au, lf63

you’d never woken up early on christmas mornings, you never really celebrated other than being happy to have the day off and exchanging a gift between you and your dad

you’d had trees and sometimes your dad would convince you to make cookies, but only when you were much younger

so it was definitely weird to be awake before daylight, greeted with a tree full of gifts and lucas mom handing you a plate of bacon, eggs and french toast.

your legs were laid over lucas, your head rested on his shoulder while you fought sleep, his hands gently running through your hair not helping your case.

while adam dragged himself into the room, tired and rubbing sleep from his eyes, luca tilted his head to the side to be level with you

you gave him a small grin and he tilted your head to peck your lips, moving back to his original position once adam dropped down beside him and caused a ripple in the cushions

“it’s too early for you two to be-“ adam gestured vaguely in your direction, grumbling to finish his sentence

his mom brought him coffee and his food, and then everyone started on gifts.

yours to lucas parents was buried at the back of the tree- since you felt a little embarrassed by it and wanted to put off letting them open it for as long as possible

when they finally got to it you gave a small smile and clutched onto luca, nerves kicking in full force

luca was giddy, all too excited for his parents to open up your present, so he squeezed your hand and kissed your forehead, trying to reassure you that everything would be okay

they opened it and right away, their mom looked up with a heartfelt smile while they’re dad was just staring

“you’re so talented, sweetheart. thank you,” she turned her attention back to the art and leaned on her husband, smiling.

when they both looked back up, their eyes were watering and yours went wide, looking up at luca who was beaming at his parents

adam sent you a reassuring look, so you looked back over to them.

“can i hug you?” his mom tilted her head, smiling softly while getting up from her seat.

you nodded slightly, feeling a little awkward and you untangled yourself from luca and wrapped your arms around her waist.

she squeezed you tight, cupping your face and pulling back to look at you

“thank you, y/n,” you smiled in return, nodding slightly and moving back to your seat, re attaching yourself to luca.

the five of you sat around the living room for a while after everything was out away, yourself mostly silent

eventually, you poked lucas arm and mumbled that you were going to get ready. he smiled and kissed you, mumbling an okay before taking his arm off from around you and watching you walk off

once you were gone, his mom spoke up

“she’s beautiful, luca. and she’s got the biggest heart,” all he could do was smile, his heart swelling in his chest at her praise of you

“she’s good, isn’t she?” adam beamed, nodding to the piece you’d painted that was safe on the side table until there was time to put it up

both of their parents nodded and adam continued

“she works hard, mama. she was nervous for you to see. think it’s cause she spent so long and wanted you to like it,” luca watched his brother, smile getting harder and harder to contain

“well, we love it,” she reassured, adam smiling

“she’s at michigan for art, so she would’ve had to take extra time on top of other pieces. and i know she prefers to draw, so i think you guys liking it was really important for her,” he finished, smiling to himself

he looked over at luca, who was just glowing with pride for you, and his cheeks flushed

“sorry,” he mumbled and luca shook his head

“she loves you, too, mo,”

[archivallyfound09]

All You Could Want (Baulder's Gate 3) pt. 2

Part 1

Pairing: Raphael x reader (afab), no y/n

Rating: Explicit (descriptive sex, cursing, mature themes)

Plot: Raphael is known for his deals. You were one of those deals. What happens when you become more than just a signature? What happens when others intrude on that relationship?

“I still don’t understand why we are going through with this!” Gale whined, “I’m not exactly too fond of breaking into devil’s lairs and trying to steal precious artifacts from them.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes, “You wouldn’t be saying that if you were still eating the fucking artifacts…” he muttered under his breath, shooting Gale a glare before continuing to explore just outside the new portal that had been created. Gale opened his mouth to rebuff the vampire snarky commentary, when his mouth closed abruptly.

A small, dwarf-like apparition appeared in front of the group, her crazed commentary immediately drawing all to her plight in the House of Hope. The group listened and transformed, attempting to break in and steal more than just the Orphic Hammer. Hope, as she was called, made mention of freeing her physical form before leaving- she also teased something about a new visitor, but it seemed that only Astarion caught the comment.

As they traipsed through the ominous and tortuous halls, the group was faced with more than just the cruelty of the cambion they were after- they saw the absolute destruction of the human soul. Entities around them begged for freedom, some screaming, some crying, but the most hauntingly awful ones only begged half-heartedly, already resigned to their eternal damnation. Astarion felt a tug on his once-beating heart, he could imagine the pain, but blocked it out best he could as he continued towards the library with Gale, Shadowheart, and Karlach. 

This certainly wasn’t the group he was planning on joining with his newfound freedom, but he was glad to have at least a few other damaged beings along with him for the ride. As he rounded a corner, a small flutter of fabric caught his eye in the darkened hallways. He held his hand up to stop the group, Karlach all but crashing into him as he did so. She gave him a sheepish look and shrugged as he rolled his eyes.

“There’s someone here,” he held up his hand to silence Gale while he finished his thought, “ and she,” he emphasized, “does not smell infernal.”

-------

When you awoke, your room had transformed back to the way it always was. Reds and golds decorated the high-vaulted ceilings all the way down to the ornate floors. You smiled and stretched a hand over your head as you let out a satisfied yawn. The bed, no longer opalescent, but now scarlet red, was just as comfortable as it had been before you had gone to bed. With sleep still heavy on your eyes you sat up slowly and then noticed the figure standing with his back to you.

You tried to stifle another yawn, but failed, a chorus of chuckling meeting your sleepy facade as he turned around, hands clasped behind his back as he looked you over, enjoying and basking in your humanness for a moment.

You gave him a heartfelt smile. “Good morning,” you said quietly, eyes now bright. He couldn’t help the smirk that now decorated his face.

“I should think that any morning where I get to see you wake up like that should be,” the honeyed words were sweet, but you saw the honesty behind them. He continued, “I do hope you enjoyed your little paradise yesterday, “ you nodded happily, reminiscing of the warm pool and seaside breeze. He hummed in approval. “I knew you would. I do hope you are rested and looking forward to another day here…” 

His voice trailed off a bit as you noticed he stepped closer to the bed, the mattress shifting under his weight as he sat alongside your legs. You nodded and sat up on your knees, leaning in a bit closer to him. He smiled and wrapped you in his arms, the warmth emanating from his skin was deliciously hot as you felt his hands slowly glide up and down you back, pulling you closer to him. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in and immediately smelling burnt wood and cherries, and you let out a small yelp as he quickly changed positions and you found yourself on his lap.

“Raphael! You startled me!” you couldn’t help the almost girlish giggle that escaped your lips. To him, it was sweeter than any wine, more delicious than any torture- your laugh was the one thing keeping you here, safe, in the cambion’s arms. You smiled, pressing your forehead to his and closing your eyes.

“Tell me that today you will be able to spend time here today...” you quietly begged, cracking an eye open to try and convince the man under you to agree. He smiled- you liked his human smile, even though you knew there was another more natural side to his being. The wrinkles around his eyes were clear to see up close and you wanted to kiss every one of them to make him stay. He chuckled, his chest and shoulders shaking under your forearms as they found purchase around his neck.

“I’m terribly sorry, apple of my eye, there seems to be a bit of an intruder issue that I must attend to,” you noticed the slight snarl on ‘intruder’ but decided to let him finish his thought, “‘tis nothing more than a few rodents, I’m sure.” You smiled, deciding to forego mention of your experience from the night before. After all, he was already on their scent- surely that would make for the end of any issues.

You smiled sweetly and kissed his nose, pulling your forehead back and then finding your lips completely captured by his. He tasted of aged brandy and hot smoke and you couldn’t help but melt into his grasp as his hands now traveled up your sides. He pulled away far too quickly for your liking.

“Soon, my dear, “ he promised, standing and effortlessly placing you on the bed, “soon.”

--------

You had spent your morning as you usually did, lounging in the pool, reading, trying to learn and enact certain spells that you had read earlier (it was all going horribly), but you continued to entertain yourself until Raphael’s business was wrapped up.

As you went to the library to return yet another spellbook, you noticed voices emanating out from the main foyer. The table that once held a feast was now empty, but the chairs were filled with four others and Raphael’s back was to you. You quickly tried to pull yourself behind the pillars, not wanting to be spotted, but remained endlessly nosy about the intruders. 

You immediately recognized two from the intrusion in your room, but you noted that what you had thought to be a barbarian male was clearly a woman and she appeared to be on fire. The other two men were dressed in shabby clothes, as was the small woman to the left of the cambion. You craned your neck to try and hear their dialog, only picking up a few comments here and there. 

“We can make this so much easier,” you hear Raphael’s business voice ring out, “a simple contract. You get what you want and all you have to do is return something small to me and the end of your quest.” You saw the others in the group look at each other, debating in hushed tones. You watched as Raphael pretended to pick at his nails, allowing the deliberation for a bit before he grew impatient.

“Or,” he interrupted jarringly, his aggravation palpable, “I could end all of you for breaking into my home uninvited.” He stood, his hands slamming to the table, causing you to jump and cover your mouth from an inevitable squeak of surprise. You quickly pulled back fully behind the pillar, but not before the small white-haired woman caught your eye. You dared not look back at the group as deliberations continued- you slunk back to your room as fast as possible, terrified of interrupting Raphael’s business dealings.

------

“My dear,” his voice was smooth like velvet as he interrupted you walking around the room, a book in one hand, an apple in the other. You paused your steps, finished your paragraph and looked up at him adoringly. He couldn't help the slight swell he felt in his chest at your glance.

“My dear,” he started again, walking towards you, “I am sorry to have kept you waiting for my time; my business seems to have taken far too much of my attentions,” he snaked an arm around your waist as you stood, still poised with a book and fruit in hand. You smiled. This was nothing new. 

“I do believe I owe you time in paradise, and soon I will be able to accomplish that like never before,” he stepped behind you, your back flush against his chest, soft lips pressing searing kisses to your neck and shoulders. You dropped your hands to your sides, barely holding onto the items grasped within, and closed your eyes, leaning your head back against his shoulder. He chucked and you felt your body laugh along with his. His fingers traced your collarbone and rested flat across your decolletage, his pointer finger and thumb lightly at the base of your throat.

“I am sure if anyone can accomplish that, it’s you,” you sighed. Raphael felt his ministrations pause as he took in your sincerity. You were not just another contract to him. Sure, you fit the bill- wandering hero, monster-slayer, desperate to make mankind better, but unable to do so without sacrifice and help. It was in all those years of watching you and offering contract after contract that Raphael decided to help tip the scales in your favor during a battle or two…he also may have helped a bit in prepping you before negotiations and by offering you some extra health and strength when yours was spent. 

Raphael closed his eyes, breathing in your scent, as he remembered watching you for that long decade. Denying his wishes, making him go mad with fury, worrying about your pathetic life span- he had become a cambion he didn’t recognize. His memories began to float back instantly. 

It wasn’t until Harleep’s incessant teasing stopped that he knew he was in trouble. He had fallen for you- a mere mortal with a savior complex. 

It was then that he knew what he had to offer: you for the rest of humanity. 

You took the offer far quicker than he expected. He didn’t think the frequent visits over the years had done much to win your favor, but as he watched you pick up the infernal quill to sign over your life, he saw how much life had taken from you. The bags under your eyes, the sullen cheeks, the ragged and messy hair- you were still a vision to him and his hands longed to embrace you, but he saw the damage that fighting and saving had done.

It was at that moment that Raphel did something he had never done and vowed to never do again: he amended a contract for your benefit. The signing over of your life to him would now include restoration to your previous healthy body eternally and forgotten memories of the harshness of your previous life. You were completely unaware of this contract- you believed what he had told you- he had saved you from certain death at the hands of those who wanted to kill you.

You were also completely unaware that after 5 days of caring for you and altering your experience within the House of Hope, Raphael destroyed the contract. You were free to leave at any point. He had felt nothing but damaging fear the first fortnight (or the first 12 years you were with him-time no longer held meaning), but he slowly trusted that you wanted to stay. 

“So what paradise will you be conjuring up next?” Your sweet, dulcet voice breaking Raphael out of his reverie. You imagined far away places and exotic smells and designs you had only ever read about. You imagined animals and treats you had never seen before. You felt his thumb tap at the base of your neck, humming quietly to himself.

“What if the next paradise,” he purred, “is real?”