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liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 3 months

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Alastor - [TOUCH STARVED]

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A/N: Photo/Fanart Credit to @/Nyer_roth on Twitter (hiatus)

[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM/CAT HYBRID DEMON READER ]

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Touch Starved Alastor prefers your presence over anyone else’s in the Hotel. His shadows linger by your side if he’s not physically there and when he is it’s quite obvious to everyone how closely the Radio Demon is guarding you.

No one dares to breathe a word about his behavior but the moment he’s out of sight or ear shot Angel will tease you endlessly. “Seems you have Mr. Fancy Creep wrapped round your little finger, toots.” Your face flushes ten shades of red as the spider demon nudges your side while giggling at your flustered reaction. He knows -well everyone knows how you feel about Alastor- but you’ve made it a point to never let the overload onto your attraction to him.

Even if he already is aware of it…

Angel’s teasing doesn’t help your little crush dissolve as you wished it would, so with a huff and a rushed whisper you excuse yourself from the group. “N-no I don’t Angel and…I’m heading to bed. Goodnight…” Angle snickers at your deliberate deflecting, but says nothing else as you waltz up the staircase, barely listening to Charlie yelling “good night” to you, and failing to notice the dark mass of spectrums trailing your every step.

Touch Starved Alastor listens in on those pesky conversations the others have when it comes to you and him. You’re always so skittish and docile under their prying, blushing at the slightest implication of his attention being on you, and to say it intrigues him would be an understatement. Alastor isn’t one to entertain those who show him affection, let alone acknowledge it, but when it comes to you the overload’s mind runs rampant with devious desires. At first he ignores them, content with keeping your connection to him cordial, and that works for a time.

It doesn’t last forever though.

Especially when you unconsciously tend to him so reverently. You’re a people pleaser by nature -he’s sure of that- but the immediate stars in your eyes whenever he instructs you to do something strikes just the right nerve for him.

It’s always the simplest things, tedious tasks he burdens you with just to see your eagerness to please him on repeat, “My dear, would you be so kind as to hand me that book over there?” Your head lifts, hopeful eyes staring at him as you nod with a genuine smile, “Of course!” You chirp, walking right over to the bookshelf without question to acquire the item, and Alastor watches your every move.

The flutter of your lashes as you pinpoint the object, how you stand on your tip toes to reach it, and the gentle sway of your hair as you finally grasp the book. You’re so sweet, so gentle with everything, and Alastor spends hours trying to stop himself from thinking about your tender embrace being spared his way.

Touch Starved Alastor starts to lock himself in his room or radio tower more often than usual when he can’t seem to keep his distance. His shadows still lord over you but are never seen which makes it that much easier for him to watch you from afar.

His sudden disappearance and lack of socializing affects you heavily. You don’t smile as much and when you do the light in your eyes wanes. You’re still kind to everyone, but choose to sit alone during group activities, or wander the halls humming to avoid them all together.

Alastor takes notice of every frown adorning your face when someone mentions him or inquires as to where he is and for a split second guilt creeps its way into him seeing your energetic mood dwindle at his hands.

He can’t let this go on forever, not when you look so betrayed at the sound of his name, and mindlessly wander towards his empty room every night as if to check on him just to leave in fear of embarrassment.

Enough is enough.

Touch Starved Alastor finds you alone on a rare stormy night in Hell, an old book opened up to your curious eyes as you lay flat on your front across the parlor’s couch. He watches you from the shadows for a long while, studying the slight scrunch of your nose as your gaze happens open a certain line of text, and the way you gently kick your feet as your chin rests on the back of your hands.

He’s seen and met a mass amount of beings in his time in hell and not one has ever emitted anything close to your ethereal beauty. You swear you’re not a fallen angel to anyone who asks and it baffles him how a soul so light could end up here.

Unruly luck….maybe?

Fate, possibly?

He’ll figure it out one way or another.

“Hello, my dear, late night reading I see…” Alastors voice grasps your attention immediately, his usual staticky tone leaning towards normality as you peer up at him with a growing smile. “Yes…I couldn’t sleep,” you respond quietly, relatively shy around the overload, and trying hard not to seem overexcited to see him. You missed Alastor dearly the past few days but it would be embarrassing to show that longing outright….

The deer demon picked up on your excitement right away despite your attempts at casualness, his smile softening as you held his stare and bit your lip. Delicate fanged canines poking out just enough to prick your lower lip.

How adorable, Alastor inwardly muses at your nervous habit and continues with his light hearted interrogation. “Hm, I suppose a restless night can have that effect. ..Would you mind if I joined you then, darling?”

Touch Starved Alastor is elated when you nod gently, shifting to sit up properly, and give him a space beside you. “Of course Alastor…it gets lonely staying up by yourself. I’d appreciate the company.” Your sweet tone dazes him for a moment as he sits next to you, unconsciously disregarding his aversion to interpersonal space…

Odd…

He never situates himself this close to you, always looming, but never actively seeking your side. It’s strange to you at first but as he visibly relaxes you don’t mind the deliberate position he’s taken.

He could very well be tired or you might be hallucinating that he was putting an arm around your shoulders.

Either option didn’t ease the rapid pace of your heartbeat..

Alastor was careful with you, incredibly gentle as he pulled you to his side, and rested his chin on the top of your head. “Such a sweetheart you are, my dear.” He speaks quietly, oddly calm as you hum in agreement, your soft ears flattening as you breathe in his scent.

A smidge of brimstone mixed with the aroma bourbon and pine.

He smelled just like a lovely forest, a secure scent you wouldn’t mind getting used to, and tried to commit it to memory just in case Alastor never let you get this close to him again.

Touch Starved Alastor chuckles lowly when you breathe him in, finding your feline tendencies endearing, and listening to your soft purring become a vocal indicator of how comfortable you felt with him. You’d long forgotten the book, nuzzling your head under Alastor’s chin instead, getting lost in your innocent desire to be under him, and he makes no move to stop you.

If anything the radio demon welcomes your touch, sliding you onto his lap with ease, and that never ending smile of his becoming genuine when you absentmindedly compliment him. “…You smell…sweet,” you hum, speaking more to yourself than him, but he hears you and responds promptly. “Is that so, darling?”

You nod, head lifting to stare up at him through your lashes, “Mhm…I missed it..I…” you pause, face flushing red as the deer demon peers back at you, red eyes glinting with dormant affection as he studies your expressions.

“Come now, use your words dear…” he reassures you his patience isn’t waning with a gentle hum.

Alastor is tempted to watch your plush lips move as you struggle to speak up but it’s hard to resist when you finally whisper a confession -one you think he’ll be off put by…

“W-well I missed you entirely Alastor… a lot actually.” And there you go again, eyes wide with apprehensive hope, and ever present adoration. He’d felt his fair share of adrenaline rushes, experienced the “blood rushing to your head” urges that sinners and demons alike couldn’t resist, and though Alastor prided himself in remaining in control of such things…

You brought them out of him without even trying.

Ridiculous, truly…but the longer you fawned over him the less cordiality Alastor maintained.

Touch Starved Alastor lets his smile soften, deeply appreciating your timid vulnerability, and much to your relief he lets you know it. “Missed me? Well, I must have quite the effect on you to instill such a sentiment,” His tone is abundantly softer than usual, quietly echoing in the hotels parlor, and tickling the nerves in your ears.

They perk up along with your tail as he rests his hands on your waist, pulling you impossibly close until the only proper place you can latch your hands onto is the back of the carved mahogany frame of the couch. “Al…” you sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut as his grip on you tightens a tad in response.

When had he gotten so touchy? Better yet, why?

All logical questions that you were asking yourself weren’t granted answers as the overlord inhaled heavily. Breathing you in just as you’d done to him moments ago.

Your unsteady pulse, rising lust, slight confusion, and underlying fear of him coursing through your veins in waves. Alastor identified each emotion, practically tasting them on his tongue, and his hunger rose again from it.

He could just eat you alive at this rate and from the whine you let out as he trailed his hands down to your thighs, claws ripping right through the sheer white thigh high socks you’d paired with a modestly short nightgown made it abundantly clear to him you wouldn’t mind if he did.

How sweet you’d taste?

How the shaky whines you were letting out now could turn to bashful screams?

How sickeningly perfect you’d look broken, bloody, and marked by him and him alone?

He’d wondered about these things constantly…feverishly…

Touch Starved Alastor lets his mirage of being a “true gentleman” dissipate entirely when you subconsciously roll your hips down on him for much needed friction -and in an attempt to dissolve the pain his scratches on your skin brought.

Fuck. This. Alastor curses himself, swiftly repositioning you both in a blink of an eye. Your back hits the velvet cushions with a gentle ‘thud’, earning a soft gasp on your part that’s inevitably silenced by one of his shadows wrapping around your mouth, and another gingerly snaking round your waist. He chuckles as you squirm underneath him, clearly wanting to be in control of your own body, but what would you ever need that autonomy for?

He’s here for a reason, right?

Why grant you more agency than required?

“Comfortable, my dear?” The leering stag above you chides, grin wide as you groan in frustration, eyes sliding shut as he slips between your parted legs. His red irises show brighter as your lower halves press flush against each other and you shudder from the contact -inwardly congratulating yourself for not wearing much underneath your nightdress to begin with.

Alastor allowed your hands to reach for him, your delicate claws gripping his suit collar as firmly as possible, tugging him lower as you shifted under his weight to grind against him. “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart,” he half reprimands half teases as your bare slit passes over the crotch of his black dress pants. There was no doubt your slick was leaving a stain and if it were anyone else -in any other situation- Alastor would’ve had their head for ruining his attire.

Luckily, you were to receive anything but his wrath.

How fortunate…

Touch Starved Alastor feels himself going mad when you mindlessly use any part of him you can reach as a bid for more pleasure. Eyes watering, begging him to touch you, help you, and it’s one hell of a sight to see in his opinion. “Desperate aren’t we, darling?” His cooing drives you insane, large hands wandering under your nightgown to trace your warm skin -not helping your dazed state at all.

Alastor purposefully claws at your body, placing surface level scars on it, letting the small droplets of blood that escape his cuts paint your skin and his fingertips. You struggle every soften, train of thought lagging as pain and pleasure start to intertwine.

“….please don’t stop..”

“What a sick & twisted little thing you are..”

Tears run down your face, drool dripping from the corner of your lips, and your cunt leaking all over him and sofa. Blood starts to seep through your nightdress in random streaks and it’s only then that Alastor decide it’s redundant to keep it on you. “Let’s get rid of this, shall we?” That’s all the warning you get from the radio demon before you feel his claws shred it to pieces.

Thank heavens you hadn’t chosen your favorite one tonight or you’d be devastated…

“Much, much better, ma chère,” Alastor praises you as if the task was at your own hands -and to some degree it was for letting him get this far- and yet your face flushes a deep shade of red as you nod in agreement.

The shadowy tentacle covering your mouth tightens its grip, shifting sharply to expose your neck to him, and Alastor seizes the opening immediately. Taking his time finding your sensitive spots, marking them with his teeth and tongue until there’s dark bruises left behind, and you nearly came undone from the relentless precision of love bites he inflicts on you.

Touch Starved Alastor allows your hands wander wherever they please, quite taken with the feeling of your dainty claws raking down his back, or shifting up to pet his ears. They flicker about at your touch, ever so sensitive, and heightening the pleasure he gets from torturing you. Every sound you make, the shuddering moans against his lips, and the muffled cries that build in your chest when Alastor toys with you muddles his focus further.

Bit by bit you’re chipping away at his sanity by simply enjoying his caress and offering him yours.

Alastor isn’t one to succumb to pleading easily but when you’re given the chance to use your voice and beg for release without a second thought….he hasn’t got the gall to deny you.

Not when you’re looking up at him like you might die if he denies you, so worked up that you stutter, and shake uncontrollably.

“N-need to….p-please let me…come,” you whine as quietly as possible, ears laying flat on your head as he hums melodically in false consideration for your plight.

It’s fueling his already massive ego that you’re poised to come undone when he’s barely done a thing to you and he has half the mind to pull away and watch you fall to pieces…

You’d surely give him a show then, pouting helplessly, or cowering from embarrassment realizing how much of a mess you’ve made of yourself for him.

It’d be pure entertainment.

However, why waste a prime opportunity to see you utterly satisfied by him?

By his mere presence even.

The deer demon refuses to pass up such a rare occurrence, flipping your position again so your smaller frame sits atop his larger one. “F-fuck..” you hiss as you settle on top of him, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he guides your hips to keep riding him at a rough but languid pace. Alastor observes you above him for a long moment, smile widening when your hair falls in front of your bright eyes, and your hands splay across his chest to keep yourself steadily upright.

The scratches he’s left on you are still fresh, mixing with the tears that flow down your face, and your arousal pitifully dribbling down your inner thighs as well.

Exactly how he pictured you time and time again.

“You may,” he finally exhales, static completely gone from his voice, and hearing it elicits a newfound spark of heat in your core. Your legs shake involuntarily, hips stuttering in tight circles over his clothed erection as you chased your high. Alastor watches you intently, tonguing his cheek to keep from groaning, and his body running hotter than usual as your cunt drags against him.

Touch Starved Alastor can’t fathom how a soul as tender as yours can dwindle to filth in the midst of cumming. Head lulling at an angle while your back arches just right to define your silhouette in the dark room.

The coil in your stomach snaps faster than you can gauge a reaction. A scream threatening to leap from your chest as it washed over you, but his shadows return, clasping tight enough to muffle it. “Easy, my dear…you wouldn’t want to disturb the others, hm?” Alastor bucks his hips upward to make his point clear and you visibly jolt from the overstimulation he causes.

It was clear he needed his end met too and that brought a grin to your face as his shadows receded from your lips when you quieted down. “No…” you sigh, inching a hand lower to trace over the rise in his pants. Alastor stiffens under your touch, nearly snarling when you palm him slowly, eyes never leaving his as you do. Tempting and sweet as always, “Careful, Mon Cher,” he warns, voice thick with allure.

He’d only come to seek a warm body to torment, assuming he’d take care of his own needs later, but you -the ever so caring sinner you were- seemed intent to shoulder the task now.

You licked your lips, tongue grazing your fangs as your peered down at him defiantly with a warm smile, “M’ not one of your little puppets…” Alastor raised a brow at that, noting the mischievous glint in your eyes as you leaned forward, “….and I never will be.” You finish your statement, smiling wider before lowering yourself down his body. He lets you do as you please, stuck between observing, and enjoying the attention you give him.

It’s very rare to see the overload so willing to be tested, but you made your stance clear with a singular lick up his clothed length with the softest smile on your lips. “Fuck…” he groans then, static nonexistent again as you playfully repeated the action until he became agitated enough to fist a handful of your hair and drag you back up to face him.

“It’s not very polite to tease, sweetheart.”

You smirk and reach for his belt, skillfully undoing it without breaking eye contact, feigning humility through half lidded eyes“Then would you be so kind as to correct my manners then?”

“It’d be my pleasure, darling,”

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My head was all over the place with this one ❤️ I need some sleep…

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He’s a literal walking red flag 🚩 and unfortunately my favorite color is red 😭 Credits to the creator 🖤

#Spotify #alastor smut #alastor x oc #alastor x reader #alastors radioshow #alastor fluff #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #fanfic #writing prompt #writing

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brickmvster · 2 months

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new look [leon kennedy x gn!reader]

(fanart in the middle from tanya.gavva on instagram)

synopsis: leon kennedy grows out his hair for the first time in a long time... and you cherish every moment of it.

word count: 1,190

tags: long haired re4r leon, established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff and cute domestic stuff, slice of life, short and sweet

author's note: ya'll know those long hair leon kennedy mods. yeah. yeah those. thank the modders for inspiring me to write this. 😭😭😭 (seriously he is so beautiful with long hair i am Crying)

as per usual, this was posted at a time when i should be sleeping lol. this has been proofread but some grammatical errors may have still slipped by me. apologies in advance, any and all mistakes are mine!

please enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated.

(this has been crossposted on ao3)

Sometimes, Leon goes quite some time without hearing from the government. On the rare occasion he gets extended breaks, he gets a little lazy when it comes to keeping his hair short. Short hair stays out of Leon's face, and prevents any evil residents from grabbing it when he's on missions, but when he doesn't have any hostile enemies to fight and he spends most of his time with you, he likes to let it grow just a little bit – after all, it's nice to save some money on haircuts and it gets some pretty entertaining reactions out of you.

When you first noticed Leon's longer hair, you didn't comment on it; you assumed that he'd cut it fairly quickly. But several days had passed, and his hair only grew longer, much to your surprise (and delight). You brought it up to him one night while he was helping you cook dinner, his shaggy blonde hair falling into his eyes.

"Are you growing out your hair?" You had asked him. Leon looked away, almost in a shy manner that you found absolutely adorable.

"Yeah… I know it's unusual of me to keep it this long but it's been a while since my last mission and I haven't really felt like going to the barbershop, so…" he trailed off, running his fingers through the locks in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

There was a bit of silence before Leon spoke again. "Do you like it?" He asked you, to which you could only chuckle in response, walking over to him and running your own fingers through the strands before letting your arms rest on his shoulders, playing with the hairs on his nape.

"Leon Kennedy. Is that even a question?" You replied incredulously. Leon just smiled, chuckling softly as he placed his large hands on your waist. The two of you leaned in and shared a sweet kiss, momentarily forgetting about dinner altogether.

Leon eventually pulled away first, but his face remained close enough to yours that you could still feel his breath on your lips. Your fingers were still playing with his hair tenderly as your eyes admired the gorgeous sight directly in front of you.

Leon had always been handsome – that was just a known fact. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and Leon Kennedy is attractive as all hell. But with the way his long hair was framing his face, you were falling in love all over again.

"Somehow you've gotten even more beautiful. I didn't even think that was possible." You teased, tucking some hair behind his ear.

"You're really loving this, aren't you?" Leon playfully asked, grinning warmly at you.

"To say that I'm loving this is a massive understatement – I am obsessed." you said with a smirk, saying the words against Leon's lips before pressing yours against his once more, this kiss a bit more passionate than the first one and making you feel light-headed in the best way possible, butterflies viciously attacking your stomach as Leon still somehow managed to sweep you off your feet years into the relationship.

Leon tried to pull away again after several minutes of lazily making out in the middle of the kitchen, but every time he tried you would chase his lips, never keeping your mouths separated for longer than a second.

"Baby," Leon whispered against your lips, and eventually you leaned back, but not without great reluctance.

Leon just kissed your cheek. "We should probably get back to preparing dinner, yeah?" He asked. With a pout, you nodded.

"Right." You said, remembering the poor vegetables that still needed cutting.

Before you turned your attention back on cutting vegetables though, you stepped back and took in Leon's now messy hair after your fingers had run through the strands a million times, giggling to yourself quietly. It looked like a cute little bird's nest.

"God, I am going to be all over you." You muttered under your breath. But your boyfriend's trained government agent ears picked up on your words.

"Aren't you always all over me already?" He replied, teasingly.

You added the chopped vegetables into a boiling pot as you responded. "Well, yes. But even more now. Watch out." You threw a wink his way, and Leon just rolled his eyes, but couldn't fight the fond smile from taking over his lips.

Eventually, the two of you got back into the tranquility of cooking, moving around each other almost as if dancing in harmony, a comfortable quietness filling the kitchen. At some point, though, when the food was simmering and you began cleaning up the kitchen, Leon had left for a moment. You didn't think anything of it, assuming he just needed to be off of his feet for a bit.

But then he came back, his silky blonde hair pulled into a small ponytail, some of the more disobedient strands framing his face in the most endearing way. You were wiping the counter when you suddenly froze, your face feeling as warm as the pot of stew on the stove as you shamelessly ogled at your boyfriend's good looks.

Leon sensed your staring, quickly meeting your gaze. "Something on your mind?" He asked playfully.

You wanted to throw your wash cloth at his ridiculously charming face. "Leon. You look so adorable right now. I'm going to explode."

Leon chuckled. "Please, don't. The counter will get dirty again."

You walked over to him, hitting him gently with the washcloth still in your hand before surprising him with a chaste kiss against his lips.

Eventually, dinner was served, and after the two of you ate, it was about time for bed. You both did your usual nightly routines before jumping into your shared bed, holding each other close. Leon was usually the big spoon, as per your request on most nights, but you weren't passing up the opportunity to hold his head close to your chest and to run your fingers through his soft strands.

Leon hummed contentedly, and it was so quiet you almost didn't catch it; but you did, and the sound instantly brought a smile to your face.

"That feels nice, sweetheart." He said lazily, as he was very obviously trying to fight sleep.

This man will be the death of me, you thought.

"It does?" You asked. Leon nodded.

"Mhmm." Was all he replied with, melting into your touch once more.

Some silence passed, the two of you on the very edge of being pulled into the embrace of a deep slumber, but not for long as you expressed one more thought that had entered your mind.

"You know, with your hair this length, I got some style ideas…"

"Oh yeah?" Leon replied groggily.

"Yeah. I have to see you in pigtails."

Leon's half open eyes were now fully open at your comment. A sharp laugh escaped you immediately.

"Leon, please. Do it for me?"

He shook his head, laughing along with you. But the next morning, he let you put his hair into two cute pigtails with a couple of your hairties. And of course, you took photos.

#leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #re4 leon #resident evil 4 #re4make #resident evil x reader #resident evil 4 x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil fluff #resident evil fic #resident evil fanfic #resident evil fanfiction

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chiptrillino · 2 years

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I think people will not spot it but...

-points to the isopod-puppy 'carving' on the wall-

I don't think they would pop up as well in real life... (in my experience I highly doubt that... )

but hey! this is a drawing

art-blog: chiptrillino-art

[ID: Two Fanart images portraying the southern water tribe family from avatar the last air bender. which include: father Hakoda, mother Kya, older brother Sokka and younger sister Katara.

the first image shows, a family of four, in bed. In the background on the left side, the snow-withe-floor is covered with a white pelt with cheater spots covering it. a snow step with a blue blanket resting on it leads up to the bed. On the wall is built-in a smaller shelf with small carved toys and a wooden boat toy. a decorated boomerang with a wolf painted on it fell out of it. a doll in a blue parka is resting at the top of the head of the bed. the bed is made out of straw mats two big fur pillows, and soft pelts in shades of dark grey and brown. the walls with visible snow blocks on the right side of the image area are covered in small carvings that look like children's drawings. on the right side close to the wall, bundled up in furs that resemble sheepskin is kya, peacefully sleeping. her head is resting on her husband's left shoulder. she is wearing her iconic necklace. peacefully sleeping in her mother's arms is little katara. who wears a light blue top and has her hair in two braids. she is bundeled up in a embordied blanked. bears and otter penguins hunting small fish are sewn on it.

in the centre, sleeping upside down with limbs spread out is Sokka. mouth open tooth growing out. arms above his head. he is just wearing pale brown-grey pants held together by a dark blue ribbon. he must have gotten out of his blanked during his sleep. his legs are spread atop his father's torso. one foot getting into Hakoda's half-asleep face, pinky toe stuck in his father's nose pulling. Hakoda is not amused. but resigned himself to his fate till his family decides to wake up. he wears his hair open, a bone necklace around his neck. and dark brown pants. over his legs is draped a fur banked.on the right side of the image is a small text saying "please don't repost" below in the centre is the artist's signature "chiptrillino . 2022"

the second image shows the family doing her morning routine.

Kya sitting behind Sokka wearing a blue Kuspuk. her hair styled with beads in it. a ribbon is stuck between her teeth while she smiles and looks at her husband. she is doing her son's hair. Sokka is still half-asleep in front of her yawing. bundled up in an embroidered blanked with otter-penguin and bears on it. on the right of the image is Hakoda yawing just like his son briding his daughter's hair, he is not wearing a shirt, just his pants in which he slept int. on top of his crossed legs sits katara. wearing a light blue kuspuk with a small blue raindrop pattern on. happily dangling her feet and playing with her doll.

on the right side of the image is a small text saying "please don't repost" below in the centre is the artist's signature "chiptrillino . 2022" End ID.]

#atla #avatar the last aribender #sokka #katara #hakoda #kya #southern water tribe #chip!art #this... this is something that took to much time but also to little time at the same time...#also note to self... maybe don'T start bigger project while sick...#double note to self: try to figure out how the young manage to draw on screen tablets because i can't do that!#uh oh nope!#if somone asks where the light source comes form? or... how come its so bright in their home...#well... you know...#sometimes... it is what it is hahah #sorry ;;;

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mumms-the-word · 1 month

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Choosing to Live

Pairing: Gale x Tav (you/reader POV) Summary: Shortly after Gale decides to defy his goddess and not self-destruct in the caverns below Moonrise Towers, you turn and see him struggling with the conflicting emotional fallout of his decision. CW: death, suicidal ideation, panic attacks, survivor's guilt (implied), coercion (implied) A/N: I was inspired by @gangstagandalf's emotional fanart of Gale and Tav just after Moonrise. It's not quite the same scene as their art but I just couldn't resist writing my own angst version. Check them out, their art is lovely! @gangstagandalf I hope you don't mind if I borrowed a few of your lines from your original post! (Pic is of my tav Dani because that’s all I got) UPDATE: Now on AO3 woooo

You watch as the husk of Ketheric Thorm collapses at your feet, a hollow shell of dessicated flesh and heavy armor. You’ve done it at last—you’ve defeated the Bone Lord’s Chosen, the first of three enemies who have enslaved an Elder Brain through the power of some sort of crown it bears.

At the thought of the crown, you turn your head, seeking out the person who had first pointed out the crown to you. It was the thing that seemed to wake him from his reluctant obedience to his goddess’s command. There had been hunger in his eyes, more than you’d ever seen in him before, and for a brief moment you had thought yourself and him safe from the commands of the goddess of magic and mysteries.

But then he’d steeled himself. You’d watched as he physically and mentally struggled with the weight of the goddess’s demands, preparing himself for what he thought was inevitable.

Death. Destruction. Catastrophe. But one that would supposedly thwart mass enslavement at the whims of an elder brain and three evil Chosen. A noble sacrifice, but one that would kill dozens of innocent lives, too.

You don’t remember what all you said in those panicked seconds between him making his decision and you being dragged into a battle against Ketheric. You recall, vaguely, that you had clutched his robe in your hands and told him you loved him. There had been other words, too, but they were lost to your memory. Whatever it was, it had been enough. Because as of this moment, the elder brain has disappeared, Ketheric is dead, and you are not.

Your eyes find him, your love, your Gale, standing on a far platform where he had climbed to better aim and prepare his spells. He stands, leaning against his staff, panting, staring at the lifeless and inert body of Ketheric at your feet, and then his gaze shifts to you. You, covered in your blood and Ketheric’s black, fetid ichor, in bone dust and illithid matter. You probably look horrible, you think. You know you should bend down to examine Ketheric’s body and see what the glowing stone in his chest is all about, but you can’t look away from your love. Not now.

Not when you were so close to losing him to his goddess’s arbitrary and cold demand.

But you didn’t. He’s alive. He’s alive. The thought pumps outward from your heart, warm and reassuring like the blood rushing through your own veins, reminding you that you too are alive. Your only thoughts now are of closing the distance between the two of you and peppering his face with kisses, telling him how proud you are of him, how brave he’s been, how much you love him. But as you take a step toward his platform, a shift in him gives you pause.

He slowly kneels down, still leaning heavily on his staff, and for a moment you think he’s praying, in the same way Shadowheart kneels to pray to her goddess. But no, his eyes are wide, staring, unfixed, not closed and reverent. After a moment, he sits fully on the ground, his staff falling with a clatter against the surface of the platform, and he buries his face in his hands.

You go to him immediately, using a last rare scrap of magic to misty step directly onto his platform. He’s shaking with fine, shuddering tremors as you approach, your steps cautious and soft but your heart aching and yearning to rush over. You reach out a hand, your own fingers trembling as they hover suspended above him, and you whisper his name uncertainly.

“Gale?”

You hear his voice but his words are muffled by his hands. You bend closer, making out fragments as his words tumble forth in a soft, whispered babble.

“Oh gods, oh gods,” he gasps. “I nearly—I almost—I could have—the orb. What have I done—”

“Gale,” you say again, finally kneeling in front of him and laying a hand on his shoulder. He jolts at the touch, stiff and startled by you, but you don’t let it deter you. You squeeze his shoulder in what you hope is a reassuring touch, even as the tears threaten to choke you as you watch and feel him tremble. “It’s all right. We’re safe. My love, you’re safe.”

He lowers his hands, one clenching the fabric of his robe over his chest, his breaths coming shallow and quick. His gaze on you is so different than before, all the warmth and steadiness and gentle, shy uncertainty that came with looking at you replaced with abject horror and unfocused panic. You get the sense he isn’t really seeing you, but staring through you to some theoretical what-if nightmare. One where you didn’t make it out alive.

“I very nearly killed us all,” he mumbles, still clutching his chest. "I nearly killed you."

“But you didn’t—”

“I was so close to—to—th-the orb, I could feel it stirring, like it wanted me to—” He breaks off, his hand tightening in the fabric of his robe. The mark of the orb glows faintly, the barest hint of illuminated magic threading upward toward his eye, casting an orchid-purple sheen to his dark iris. He bends forward slightly, combing a hand roughly through his hair and clutching brown and gray strands tightly in his fist, his eyes wide. You half-expect him to be sick as he presses his other hand flat against his chest, breathing heavily. “And now I’ve defied my goddess. I—”

He turns suddenly, sharply, twisting to prop himself up on hands and knees away from you as his body rebels against him and he retches. Very little comes up—he hasn’t been eating well since you first stepped into Moonrise and he found himself faced with the very real possibility of sacrificing his life—but his body shudders and bucks violently as it attempts to dispel everything inside him. Not just the contents of his empty stomach but the fear and loathing and terror too.

You don’t shy away from him. You shift closer, sitting on your knees at his side as his body settles into little shivers, his hands pressed flat into the surface of the platform. Your eyes are burning with tears now and you want to sob, your heart shattering for this man, your love, your heart’s song, but you have to be strong for him. You smooth his hair from his face, fingers brushing against his sweat-slick skin, and you cradle his feverish cheek in your palm. You say the only words you know to say and you repeat them as many times as you have to before they break through the haze of his clouded mind and resonate within him.

“Shh. You’re safe, my love. I’m here. I’m here with you. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, my love. You are safe.”

He leans into you and you gather him in your arms, rocking you both gently as he rests his head on your shoulder and wraps his arms around one of your arms. His shoulder is awkwardly pressed into your chest and he’s half-curled into your lap, weighing your knees uncomfortably down into ground, but you don’t mind. Discomfort and awkwardness don’t matter. What matters is that he is alive and so are you. You remind him of that in words, in your stream of murmured comforts, along with all the rest.

It takes several long moments for his breathing to even out again, and another few for him to finally rest against you without an errant shiver wracking his body. But he calms at last. The tears on your face have since dried, but your heart aches no less than before. To think that your love would suffer so for making the right choice—the choice to live—but to suffer nonetheless out of a sense of guilt and fealty to a goddess that had thrown him aside like a broken toy.

It fills you with an uncommon rage. The gods are ever cruel, but the goddess of magic—you dare not even give her the honor of her name in your own thoughts—she is among the worst in your eyes. Even now, as your love struggles to compose himself, it isn’t a goddess’s arms or a goddess’s blessing that are there to comfort him.

The arms that are wrapped around him are your own. The comfort you have to offer is that of warm flesh and soft breath, mortal and precious. And it is better—better, you tell yourself with all the prideful conviction of a mortal soul—than anything an immortal, unfeeling goddess could offer.

He finally stirs, straightening up to look at you. Or look at your shoulder, rather, unable to meet your gaze. His expression is hollow, sorrowful, but calm. You know the road to him accepting and finding joy in his decision to defy his goddess is not yet over, and the path ahead may still be thorny.

But at least he has the chance to try and walk that path, rather than ending it all here.

"Forgive me," he says softly. He seems to want to say more, but the words don't come easily. You shake your head, not caring what he's trying to apologize for.

"There's nothing to forgive, my love. You made the right choice." You caress his cheek, wiping away the grime and the tear tracks that have collected there. “I love you, Gale.”

He finally meets your gaze and oh, your love, he looks so exhausted. But there is a flicker of his old self still there, a warmth that is familiar in his dark eyes. You press your forehead to his, still caressing his cheek, and close your eyes.

He’s alive. That’s all that matters. You can figure out the rest as you go.

“I love you, too,” he whispers.

You have to get out of here, out of this cavern of flesh and stone and brine. You have to face the problems of the world at large, the threat of the elder brain and more. You know that. But you steal a few more moments for yourself, breathing softly with Gale, treasuring every breath as though they were more precious than diamonds.

———

You set out to leave the shadow-cursed lands at what you think is dawn the next day. Even with the curse waning, it’s hard to tell the time with the sun still obscured. But the hope is that as the land fades away behind you, you’ll be walking forward into sunlight and not more night.

You and Gale walk at the back of your little group, your companions moving on ahead. With each step, the shadow curse lightens. There are hints and signs of new life all around, tiny green leaves fluttering against once-dead branches, thin shoots of grass poking upward from the cold, dry ground. It restores your hope for good things to come. Not just for these lands, but for you. For your love.

He’s been quiet since the fight against Ketheric. Contemplative. Thoughtful. You had spent the night wrapped in each other's arms, counting his every heartbeat and breath until you were pulled into slumber, suspecting that he had done the same for you. When you woke you both pretended that sleep had cured you of the previous day’s torments and used the task of breaking up the camp to travel onward as your distraction from your concerns. But you watched him across the camp anyway, a knot of worry in your stomach.

Sometimes, both this morning and in the moments traveling now, you see that hunger in his eyes as you did when he first saw the crown atop the elder brain. But sometimes you just see a lingering sorrow. You haven’t been able to bring yourself to ask him about it. Not yet. It’s enough that he’s here with you, and you trust him to speak to you about what weighs on his heart in his own time. But you still worry.

Just up ahead, the shadow curse seems to fizzle out entirely, like a fog that dissipates as the sun burns it away. Beyond the threshold is sun-warmed landscape. Though scarred by the smoldering and abandoned remains of the Absolute army’s campfires and shelters, nothing has ever looked so inviting to you before. You rush ahead, eager to feel the sun on your skin again.

The difference in temperature alone is enough to reassure you that the shadow curse is behind you at last. One second you are enveloped in the chill and dimness of the shadows, and the next you are warm and bright in the light of the sun. You pause just a few steps into the sunlight, stretching out your arms and lifting your face toward the sky, drinking in the warmth. At last. You feel as though you can breathe freely again.

You turn to smile at Gale, but he is not at your side. He lingers in the shadows, watching you. The shadow curse is like a sheer black veil between you, obscuring his expression slightly, but as you step closer you realize his eyes are glimmering with unshed tears.

“Gale?”

He blinks, as if awakening from the depths of his thoughts, and quickly rubs his eyes. “Ah…my apologies. Lost in thought, I suppose.”

You hesitate to leave the warmth of the sun, but you sense this is more important than sunlight. You step onto the threshold of the curse, reaching out a hand to him. You want to pull him out of the shadows and into the light with you. He stares at your hand a moment before taking it, but he doesn’t move. Like he isn’t ready yet.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, my love,” you say gently. “Tell me how I can help.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but for the first time, words seem to utterly fail him. He swallows, gazing at you with a stricken expression, and tightens his hold on your hand.

“It’s simply…I am…in awe,” he says at last. “Of you. And I am mortified with myself. No, more than mortified. I nearly…”

You sense the flow of his thoughts instantly, your minds connecting via the tadpole, his thoughts unconsciously opening up to you. At first he resists, his mind shutting down like a trap to spare you, but then the shields waver and fall away, and you are pulled into his memories. You feel the struggle within him as he stares at the elder brain. You feel the heat and pain of the orb inside, as if reminding him of his purpose. You see yourself through his gaze, the fear and love warring in your expression as you beg him not to go through with his sacrifice. You feel the moment he makes his decision, his resolve hardening like steel in flame, only to shatter, brittle and broken, the moment the brain disappears, the pieces transforming into needles of doubt that bury themselves in his psyche, his heart, his body.

As the familiar, terrifying sight of the colossal avatar of Myrkul rises into your vision once more, for one fleeting moment, you sense the desperate desire to end it all now, to end the storm of uncertainty in your mind, the pain of the orb, the fear of disobedience, the exhaustion of facing another battle with impossible odds. For one fleeting moment, you consider letting go and letting the orb obliterate you and everything around you.

And then the connection ends, and you are left standing at the threshold of the shadows with Gale’s hand in yours.

“I nearly killed us all with one rash thought,” he murmurs quietly. “The thought of my sacrifice never left my mind, even as I swore to you I wouldn’t go through with it.”

He takes a shuddering breath and a tear drips down his cheek. You catch it with your fingertips as you cradle his face with your free hand, your heart breaking for him all over again. His tears prompt your own and you struggle to hold them back, for his sake.

“And now,” he says, his voice altered, thick with tears. He swallows. “And now I see what I fool I was to doubt. To doubt you and your wisdom. To wish for death so quickly.”

He meets your gaze and you see a thousand words he hasn’t said yet there in his brown eyes. A hundred apologies, a hundred ways to beg forgiveness, a hundred confessions of love, a hundred praises, all about and for you. It’s a torrent of love and longing and guilt in his eyes and your knees nearly buckle at the sight of it.

“I would have condemned the brightest of stars to death,” he says. “I would have robbed the world of its greatest treasure. And for what?”

“Oh, Gale,” you whisper. You abandon the sunlight to join him in the shadows and embrace him, holding him tightly as he struggles to regain his composure. “No more. You made the right decision. You’re here with me. I’m here with you. We’re alive, my love, because of you.”

“But I could have—“

“But you didn’t.” You pull back to cradle his face in both your hands and wait until he’s looking you full in the face. You want him to see your own resolve, but also your love, your faith in him, your pride for him. “You chose to live, my love. That is the most important thing. That is all that matters right now.”

He stares at you, letting your words sink in, until at last he smiles. Though it’s still tinged with sadness and guilt, it’s genuine. It soothes your spirit and settles some of your worries.

“I don’t deserve you, you know.”

You shake your head. This isn’t about deserving, but you know that’s a battle you won’t win here. Instead you kiss him, your lips soft against his, and you let that suffice for words for a moment.

When you finally pull away, he seems a little restored. The love is back in his eyes and his smile isn’t weighed down as it was before.

“I love you,“ you say.

“And I love you,” he responds. “Immensely. More than I scarce dreamed I could love anyone.”

“We will find another way to deal with the brain and quiet the orb inside you. Some way that keeps us both alive and together. I swear it.“

“I believe you.” There isn't a trace of uncertainty in his voice when he says it. “I want that more than anything.”

“Want what?”

“To live. With you. To see the dawn of a new day with you, the dawns of a thousand more days. To know that the road ahead, whatever it holds, won't be spent alone, because I'll have you by my side.” He pauses, as if a thought is only just now coming to him. “I can...I can have that hope, now. Thanks to you.”

You smile. You take both of his hands in yours and step back, placing yourself once more on the threshold between shadows and sun. “Then will you join me in the sunlight?”

He looks at you, then at the sunlit road beyond, and then back at you. He nods, letting go of one of your hands but tightening his hold on the other. “Yes. I’d love to.”

Without another word, he keeps his hand in yours as you lead him forward step by step.

Away from the darkness and into the light.

#bg3 #bg3 fix #my fic #gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #angst fic #kinda #gale x tav #gale x reader #i don't normally write you/reader pov fic so #hopefully i did okay #please check out the art that inspired this

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snippychicke · 1 month

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Poppy Seeds--Part Three

Inspired by TooManyPsuedonyms work, which in turn was inspired by @semisolidmind fanart/cabin!Au for Playtime Poppy. Especially these works today

Master post

Seven: Music

As soon as Kissy found the old radio stuffed away, she was in love. Especially when you found the vinyl records and 8-track tapes stored away. Old records your grandparents had loved like The Mamas and The Papas, Abba, John Denver, and others you weren’t so familiar with.

Soon music was always playing in the house as long as Kissy was awake. To the point that every time you were in town, you had raided the second hand store and old music shops for more.

Because it not only made the pink giant happy, but seemed to lift everyone's spirits, even on the bad days. And if that’s what it took, you would be all too happy to accommodate.

-+-

Some old song played, and something about it had everyone up and dancing. Kissy had Ollie in her arms, and the boy was giggly as the giant spun him around. Poppy was swaying by herself on the kitchen counter, though she seemed quite content by the smile on her face.

Dancing with Dogday was a bit challenging considering your size difference, but he was determined to make it work. And well, you had no complaints as he held you close with an arm around your back while his other hand encompassed yours.

Actually, you were in heaven, you just didn't want to admit it. The feelings in your chest had been slowly growing warmer and fonder for Dogday, but burying your face in his soft chest was making you realize what exactly those emotions were.

Surely this was just another side effect of the horrors you survived, right? Or just having someone so openly affectionate with you after being somewhat socially isolated the last decade as you hid from the truth you accidentally had uncovered at Playtime.

It didn't help with him always calling you angel, or following you around like a shadow. And right now, some of your favorite moments were just laying together in bed, snuggled closely and basking in the moment.

You were starting to fall in love, and you weren't quite sure how to deal with it.

His deep voice started to sing softly along with the chorus, and you knew you were in deep trouble.

Eight: Hunt

Feeding four people was going to strain your meager funds as a small farmer/rancher. Especially when two of those ‘people’ were towering creatures with an appetite of 2 each.

You knew they could ‘survive’ off less, and they both tried to hide the fact the typical portions were leaving them hungry. But after hearing both Kissy and Dogday's growl loudly several meals in a row, you deduced that it wasn't quite enough. And while you had a large garden planted, it was going to be at least a few weeks to a couple of months to benefit from that.

You knew there were plenty of deer and elk in the woods this time of year--along with things like bears and mountain lions. So you had your gramps' old shotgun hanging off your shoulder by the old strap, unable to see either Dogday or Kissy but you knew they were still within shouting distance. Surely between the three of you, you'd be able to bring something in, even if it was something smaller like a rabbit or one of the wild turkeys.

Hunting was not your favorite thing, but it put food on the table. Besides, you knew Ollie needed more nutrition too if he was ever going to get rid of that sallow tint and put meat on his bones.

There was a grumble along with a crack of a branch that gave you half a second warning. You turned, not expecting the giant grizzly bear that somehow got behind you.

You swore as you fumbled with the shotgun-- you had been more familiar with the old Grab Pack than you were the gun. The grizzly huffed again and lumbared towards you far faster than you thought something that size could. You attempted a shot, which fired with a harsh crack, but it went far too wide.

You were dead.

But in a blur of deep violet, the grizzly was knocked to the forest floor. It took you another second to recognize Catnap as he tore into the animal.

There was a brief moment of relief… and then you realized you had just traded one deadly situation for the other.

Catnap eventually released the grizzly bear and looked towards you. You took a step back, even though you knew there was no way you could outrun him. Not here in the open where there were no places to hide. You could try and shoot him, yet that weighed too heavy on your conscience, even if it meant saving your life. Never mind you couldn’t even shoot the grizzly at point-blank range.

Catnap suddenly stood on his back legs, easily switching to be bipedal… then kneeling before you. “Savior,” he breathed with more reverence than Dogday which was… was something.

“Uh,” you answered intelligently, blinking at the giant cat. Savior? You?

With a sense of deja-vu, Catnap was tackled in the same way he had tackled the animal moments earlier. Dogday’s giant paws were clenched into fists as he wailed upon the purple cat, a deep thunderous growl echoing from his chest.

Before he could do too much damage, and before Catnap could start fighting back-- you rushed forward and grabbed Dogday’s fist and held it back. You knew he could easily overpower you, but thankfully he paused, looking at with narrowed eyes.

“Stop it,” you begged, “please. He-he saved my life.”

That seemed to get through to him. Dogday looked towards the lifeless form of the grizzly, then at Catnap beneath him. The other giant Smiling Critter was glaring up at the dog with the same hate Dogday was glaring at him.

You gently pulled at Dogday, and he slowly followed your lead, unpinning Catnap and allowing him to climb to his feet and brush off the dirt and leaves.

"Why are you here?” Dogday snarled, placing himself directly between you at Catnap just as Kissy arrived, her smile dimmed as she bared her needle-point teeth at Catnap.

Yet Catnap seemed unaffected, his eyelights focused on you, peeking out from behind your friend. “They saved us. They are The Savior who defeated the false-god.”

Dogday relaxed somewhat at his word, though just a little. “Ah, just as much of a fanatic as before.”

“You deny their works?” Catnap growled back. “Even after the many works you saw yourself, you are a heretic of the true savior?”

“My angel saved us; I’ll agree with you on that, but I know they’re not going to be happy about that new title, or your worship. Unlike the prototype, angel doesn’t exactly like sacrifices.”

“N-no fighting,” you agreed, holding on to Dogday’s hand as you stepped up to his side. “No killing--other than for food,” you tacked on, seeing Kissy pause. A deer in one hand that she had dragged like a stuffed animal along the forest floor. “Or for protection. And that goes for both of you.”

It was probably seeing you try to boss the two--both of whom were about twice your height.

You squeaked indignantly as Dogday suddenly lifted you up and pulled you close to him. “Only for your sake, angel.” he murmured, nuzzling against the crook of your neck and shoulder the best he could due to both his size and also undoubtedly glaring at Catnap over your shoulder.

You could feel your face burn hot, but still gave an exasperated expression to Kissy, who hid her teeth and instead looked far more amused than she should have been.

Nine: Close

You escaped into the porch, desperate for some fresh air. It had been about a week since the Incident in the woods, and if you thought Dogday had been your shadow, you had been sorely mistaken. Knowing Catnap.was somewhere in the nearby forest left him on high alert and even more protective.

At first, you could understand it. You were more than a little shaken yourself. Especially when you would find random animals dead on your porch, ranging from rabbits to a moose. Dogday was sure Catnap was taunting everyone but…

But you had cats before. And yes, Catnap was not an actual cat, but neither was Dogday yet there were traits that seemed too much of a coincidence.

For example, Dogday loved to be petted. To the point he often rested his head in your lap while you both sat on the floor to watch tv. He had that ‘magic spot’ where his ear and head joined that when scratched would make his leg kick. (You avoided it most of the time, knowing he was self conscious of it… but sometimes temptation was too great to see that blissed look on his face.)

So you had to admit, Catnap acting like a cat… was not so far fetched. Bringing food (because they had all been fresh kills of edible animals) was a sign of affection in most cats--even moreso, you were sure, for a giant cat who had endured a decade of near starvation.

But convincing Dogday that Catnap meant no harm… that would be a challenge.

You rubbed your eyes hard with an aggravated sigh, hard enough you saw stars when you opened your eyes.

…or maybe not. You noticed a pair of eyes reflecting the porch light, far taller than any animal you could think of…

Slowly Catnap stepped out of the shadows, though didn’t pass the treeline. Instead he seemed hesitant to draw too close, his gaze flitting between you and the house behind you.

Probably expecting Dogday or maybe one of the others to come out in a rage. Yet you could hear them talking and laughing as they played one of the board games (that you purposely lost for a chance for some fresh air.)

You didn’t feel comfortable enough to approach Catnap, but… something about the lonely creature tugged at your heartstrings. Without really thinking you scooted to the edge of the porch, dangling your legs off the edge, and offered a hand.

“Psspt ppsspp ppsspp.”

The giant cat blinked at you, and for a long moment you felt like an idiot. Trying to call Catnap like he was just an old farm cat? Really?

Yet it seemed to work as Catnap slowly stalked out of the first, slinking low to the ground with his attention split between you and the cabin.

He really was an overgrown cat.

The thought made you relax some, even ast Catnap eventually loomed over you, head tilted in curiosity as if to say: “Okay, I’m here. Now what do you want?”

“Thank you for the presents?” you offered awkwardly, not sure yourself what had compelled you other than pity. “The turkey especially, even if we had feathers strewn about for a while. They were quite… novel to everyone.”

Catnap appeared to accept the praise pridefully, standing a little taller. Without thinking (which was certainly a common theme tonight) you raised your hand to scratch his chin. He paused for a moment before sinking into your touch, a slow and deep purr resonating from his chest.

Oh. You don’t bother fighting the smile as Catnap slowly slumped to the ground, looking as blissed with the soft scratches as Dogday. Though the purring was quite new, and where Dogday allowed his eyes to close completely as he rested his head in your lap, Cat nap’s were only half closed, though the expression in them was full reverence and tenderness.

It was a rather peaceful moment--until the door slammed open. “Catnap!” Dogday snarled as the other giant Smiling Critter jumped, back arched and a hiss on his lips. “Angel! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” you answered as you jumped to your feet, stopping Dogday from going after Catnap as he retreated back into the woods. “He didn’t hurt me, see?”

It took a moment for Dogday to tear his gaze away from the shadows where Catnap disappeared into and look down to you. You reached up with the same hands you had petted Catnap with and cupped his face. As always, it helps him relax, though only somewhat.

“Angel,” he sighed, leaning into your touch, though not as deep as before. “Why do you have to be so kind?”

You're pretty sure his question was rhetorical, but you smiled anyway as you rubbed the pad of your thumb along the curve of his cheek. “Because no one else was.”

That caused the last bit of stress to ease, and he sunk deeper into your touch while wrapping his arms around your waist. “Angel, my sweet angel, you're going to be the death of me.”

---*--

Dogday knew logically that his angel was as kind and merciful as their namesake. They wouldn't be his angel if they weren't.

But they were als very brave and foolhardy.

It drove Dogday up the wall to see them be so kind to Catnap for some reason. They had all done things they weren't proud of, the only innocent one among them being Ollie. But they had done so to survive. There had been no pleasure in it.

But Catnap… he killed because the Prototype told him. He had killed so many in the name of the Prototype.

He may call their angel ‘savior,’ but Dogday didn't trust him. He didn't like how his angel would leave portions of food out, going as far as to yell for Catnap to come and get it before the other wild creatures did. He didn't like it when they'd scratch Catnap behind his ear, laughing as the giant cat rubbed his face against them with a deep purr.

He really didn't like it when his kind hearted angel made a space for Catnap in the barn. Filling the area with blankets and pillows, and even a spare radio and lamp.

“I can't just leave him!” You argued with a huff later that night, dressing yourself for bed. “It's going to get cold at night--winter comes early to these parts. I know that letting him in the house would be a bad idea--if he'd even accept the offer.”

Dogday knew he would--if just to spite him. Everything Catnap did, Dogday swore was for the sole purpose to annoy him.

“He doesn't deserve you, angel. None of us do, but especially not him. Yet your so kind to him, going out of the way to make sure he's okay…”

“I'd do that for anyone, ‘day. You guys didn't deserve the shit you went through, the least I can do is make up for a bit of it.”

Dogday hesitated as you climbed into bed, an uncomfortable feeling welling up in his chest. “Is that why we're here, angel? For you to try and repent as well?”

He could tell he struck a nerve as you flinched, and almost apologized, except the words got caught in his voicebox, twisting themselves into barbs to cut deeper. “Is that the only reason you let me stay with you every night?”

Your eyes were watery when you looked up at him, though there was that steely resolve as well. “You know it's not, Dogday. You're… you're special to me. I wouldn't let anyone else share my bed… except maybe Olie if he had a nightmare.”

Something twisted and knotted in Dogday’s chest relaxed at your reassurance allowing him to sigh. You echoed his sigh before patting the bed beside you. “Come here, big guy. It looks like you could use a hug.”

How were you so perfect?

Instead of crawling in beside you, Dogday decided to take that hug by crawling halfway atop of you, head pressed against your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

He could hear your heart beating, quick but strong, and simply presumed it was from emotions running high like his own. He didn't even realize he had nestled himself between your legs until he felt the soft weight of your thighs press against his hips.

Oh. He may not be human but he did recognize a compromising position when he saw one. Yet before he could pull away, your hands reached up and scratched behind his ears. “Oh ‘day,” you sighed with such a hint of fondness he felt his tail wag in response. “You haven’t been feeling jealous, have you?”

His tail froze as he tensed, and he tried to hide his face in your chest. “No,” he lied.

Your laugh made it clear you didn't believe him, but you didn't call him out on it. Instead you pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Good, because that would be silly. No one can compare to you, no matter what.”

His face felt like it was on fire, yet his tail was wagging faster than ever. His arms tightened around your waist as he tried to press himself closer to you. You were his angel, his guiding light, and for you to say that he was special to you.

Well, he couldn’t be happier.

#dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime #dogday/player #dogday x player #dogday/reader #dogday x reader #dogday #catnap #catnap poppy playtime

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anonymouspuzzler · 9 months

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everyone has been so darned kind about the update!! to everyone who has taken a peek at our work, explored the site, shared it with their friends, drawn fanart, done ANIMATICS, MUSIC VIDEOS, everything and anything - thank you, thank you, thank you!!

also here's a lot of little doodles i found i did during production that i completely forgot about until now. the last little comic is a True Story that happened when i was hosting the exhibition

[Image IDs/transcripts under cut!]

[Image 1 ID: A full-color, digital drawing of a puppet version of Puzz lifting up Wally on her right hip. Wally is smiling gently and waving with his right arm. There is a light green and blue gradient behind them, and rainbow text above their heads reading "THANK YOU!" with little heart symbols in several colors. End ID.]

[Image 2 ID: A photo of Puzz and the Wally puppet, with a caricature of Puzz's face drawn over where her head would be. She is wearing read heart earrings and has her hair in a curly updo similar to Wally's pompadour. She is smiling with her tongue sticking out, looking into the camera. Wally is also smiling into the camera, one arm resting behind Puzz's back and the other hand on her arm. There is an arrow pointing to Puzz with handwritten text reading "PUZZ!" in blue colored pencil, and various yellow- and blue stars drawn around the image. End ID.]

[Image 3 ID: A black-and-white digital ink drawing of Puzz sitting at a messy L-shaped desk. She is wearing a baggy black t-shirt over a striped long-sleeve shirt, a grey skirt, and tights with a swirly pattern. There is a laptop to Puzz's right, a takeout container and cup of pens to her left, and a monitor right in front of her. There is a close-up image of Eddie's smiling face on the monitor. Puzz leans in close with an intense, thoughtful expression, going "hmm...". End ID.]

[Image 4 ID: A black-and-wite digital ink drawing showing Wally watching in horror as Puzz, spinning in circles with a vapid grin, ascends into the sky with a giant box balanced on top of her head. Her tiny top hat is in turn balanced on top of the box. End ID.]

[Image 5 ID: A black-and-white digital ink drawing of puppet Puzz and Wally. Puzz is standing in front of Wally, back facing the viewer, with an empty grin. Wally, who is about a full head taller, looks down at her with dumbfounded horror, apparently unable to comprehend someone being smaller than him. There are several question marks above his head. End ID.]

[Image 6 ID: A black-and-white digital ink drawing of Wally. He is leaning against a surface holding a phone, staring at the viewer with a gentle smile. He is holding the phone to his ear with his left hand and twirling the cord around his finger with his right. End ID.]

[Image 7 ID: A black-and-white digital ink drawing of Frank and Barnaby. They are recreating the meme image of two men in the snow, with Frank looking off to the right holding a small snowball in his hands, while Barnaby jumps up behind him holding a huge snowball, grinning widely and prepared to Dunk. End ID.]

[Image 8 ID: A black-and-white digital ink comic about Puzz and Wally at the Playfellow Exhibition. Puzz, wearing a N95 mask and dressed up like Wally, holds the Wally puppet on her left. In front of them is a woman with a short bob haircut and striped shirt, holding the toy phone receiver up to her ear. In the first panel, the woman says, "this is your voice?", to which Wally nods and Puzz looks on. In the second panel, the woman cheerfully adds, "you have a sexy voice!", to which Puzz and Wally both look shocked. The third and fourth panels shows Puzz and Wally looking at each other, then back at the woman. The final panel shows Wally covering his face with one hand and ducking his face into Puzz's shoulder in embarrassment, while Puzz and the woman both laugh good-naturedly. End ID.]

#anonymous puzzler art #welcome home #apparently necessary disclaimer of THAT PICTURE IS NOT CLOWN IT'S ME (bc people just keep Assuming Things)#also don't read in too deep to any of these images LOL most of 'em were just idle doodling during meetings. no Lore Implications to be had #only silly goofs and gaffs and laffs here #long post /

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ettelenethelien · 2 months

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CW: aftermath of graphic violence, corpses, blood; not explicitly described, but it's there

There is a lot of fanart around of Fëanor cradling Finwë's dead body, and while I find it just as moving as any other person, I can't help but think that the info we're given in HoME doesn't make it seem at all like the corpse was in good enough a state to make this possible

Maedhros: "... There we found the king slain at the door. His head was crushed as with a great mace of iron ... His sword lay beside him, twisted and untempered as if by lightening-stroke"

And of course, you can ignore this, but I think this version has just as many possibilities for angst... Consider:

Maedhros arrives at the scene first, and he never gets over what he sees there. He will know worse one day; battles are no pleasant thing, but this is his first experience of violence, and it is the greatest horror one could find.

Caranthir is second and Caranthir starts retching. By the time Curufin appears, Maedhros has regained enough presence of mind to stop him from coming nearer, and make sure Maglor and Celegorm and the twins - especially the twins, for stars sake, the twins! - don't have to see it.

And despite his horror, despite the nausea, Maedhros kneels down to pick up the pieces. He sends Caranthir for the casket... (it's just a box, of course it's just a box, but that's what poets will later call it) And to his horror, Celegorm appears in his field of view.

"Didn't Curvo find you?"

"He did"

And Maedhros is furious: "Stars, then why are you here??!"

"I've seen blood before, Nelyo" says Celegorm calmly, and Maedhros wants to protest that this is different than whatever he might have seen, but Celegorm has already knelt down beside him and begun helping in the bloody endeavour, though up close it's visible that he isn't as unfazed as he pretends to be.

"At least," says Celegorm "it must have been quick"

...

Later, in Tirion, Maedhros will have one of his rare moments of opposition to his father. He doesn't let him open the casket; he puts himself between it and his father. Hand on the swordhilt, almost as if he was ready to fight - he wouldn't dream of hurting his father, but certain instincts are already arising in them all.

"Will you not let me look on my father's face one last time?" Fëanor both pleads and demands in anger.

"There is no face" Maedhros replies. "I've seen it; you shouldn't have to. Do not ask."

...

Maedhros will only gainsay Fëanor one more time in this life, and he shall never again stop him.

#my post #Maedhros #Fëanor #Tolkien #Silmarillion #silm

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lovelywetdreamer · 5 months

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Okay, this will be my last smut fic for November. I know I was whore for most of NNN, but I will ends on something sweet for the rest of the month. I will make this one count.

Remember when I said Dick is way kinker than Jason this what I'm talking about. Dick knew Jason had a little crush on, and Dick been dying to see you double stuff. You were down because you always found Jason attractive and sweet.

💜🌸~Two Robins, One girl~🌸💜

Dick unzip your dress and lets fall to the ground. Dick lets his tongue swirls around your nipples as Jason gets behind you and just tore your panties off. Jason couldn't wait a second to taste your pretty kitty. He sucks on clits like his life depends on it.

While Jason is sucking on your clit, Dick gets behind you and lines his long slightly curved dick against your ass. He spits on his dick before he slowly plugged his tip inside your warm tight hole. He had to steady himself with a slow stroke because he nearly came as how you tight you felt. Jason couldn't help but pull his dick out of tight leather pants. His dick was straining and begging to get out as he saw the most innocent person he knows being fucked like a slut.

Jason's dick was already leaking precum when it was his hand. He slowly started stroking himself as he licked down from your clit to your kitty. He licked around your already-soaked hole before his warm wet tongue plunged inside you. You didn't want to cum, but you couldn't help yourself. Dick fucking you from behind like he never gets a chance again in life. This man even had the nerve to twist one of your poor sensitive nipples. Jason doesn't make it any better. His tongue skill could drive you insane.

Jason felts you squeeze and cum around his tongue. He didn't stop because Dick didn't stop. You're their precious queen right now and need to be spoiled rotten at this moment. Jason started stroking himself faster while playing with his balls. You could tell Dick was getting close because his strokes became deeper and sloppy. He gave your ass a nice juicy creampie. Jason follows suit as he comes to the floor. You came again on Jason's tongue while you were seeing stars.

Dick carried you to the shower and bathes you. Jason brought you pj's and made dinner for everyone. You all just cuddles in bed.

Rico20160801 made this wondeful Jason todd fanart

#dc jason todd #dc dick grayson #dc #dc smut #batman #dick grayson x female reader #jason todd x female reader #jason todd smut #dick grayson smut #dick x female reader x jason #dick x female reader x jason smut #nightwing smut #red hood smut

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words-etched-in-her-skin · 6 months

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Sooo 👀 I came across some fanart today that featured Alcina slicing open the front of a servants uniform and, well.. this is what came to mind 👀 (and yes, ahem, Reader is Sasha in this 😂) Anywayss... A little Halloween treat for you all 🎃✨

***

You felt your breath leave your body the moment your back hit the wall, Alcina's large frame boxing you in.

"Did you really think you could dress like that all evening and there not be any consequences when we got home? Hm?"

You swallowed as her sharp claws traced up your neck, stopping only slightly to lift your chin a little higher. Though, you couldn't help but smirk.

"What? Not to your liking, my lady?"

At this you got a subtle click of her tongue, her eyes raking over you. Her warm breath across your ear as she moved in a little closer.

"Mh.. I think you know the answer to that. Pet. Though, I don't think Miranda appreciated your choice."

Even with the tips of her claws close enough to rip through your skin at any second, you chuckled. And yes, the Lady had told you to dress for the occasion - albeit a Halloween masquerade ball - but you had had other things in mind, with every piece of your attire chosen specifically for the evening ahead.

The metal collar she gifted you.. her favorite corset.. a teal silk scarf you wore only once for a painting - even the dress pants you wore - everything on your body was purchased by her... at one point or another. You had even made sure to wear your hair exactly how she liked it. And when her moment of surprise finally passed and a single eyebrow raised, the Countess simply asked you.

"And just what are we supposed to be, pet?"

You smirked, of course, giving her a single word.

"Yours."

And now she had you exactly where she wanted you, pressed against a wall and completely at her mercy.

"Y-yes, well.. I didn't wear it for her, my lady."

A tender kiss to your neck.

"Indulgent little thing."

You could almost feel every inch of you being set ablaze - every part of you yearning for her. For her touch, for her control. With a single claw toying at the lacing of your corset - her hand coming down in a dominant fury, slashing down the front of it with such force the corset almost completely fell from your body. A flush of satin against the heated skin of your torso as Alcina leaned back in, her large fingers caressing over your flesh as they made their way down. Stopping just short of the hem of your pants.

"Is this what you want, my sweet? Is this what you desire?"

You whimpered and her body pressed even firmer into you.

"Answer me, pet."

"Y-yes. Please."

She hummed in such content that it rolled across your body and landed in your core. Your lips slightly parting when the pressure of her finger found your clit, circling over it.

"Mmph.. th-thank you, mistress."

She growled from above you, practically slamming your back against the wall as she lifted you and ripped your pants from your body. The width of her finger forced into you with a stretch - causing you to cry out. Her lips crashing into yours - in heated want - in untamed need. Your desire quickly coating her fingers with each desperate thrust, with each sweep of her tongue over your own.

And you knew you wouldn't last long, not with the tempo she kept nor the velocity with which she fucked you. Your body nothing more than a toy to be used. Than a panting mess against her large frame as she pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Your head now swimming, body heated. A charge of pleasure so strong that when it surged across your body every part of you jerked - shuddered - your inner thighs completely drenched in your arousal.

The Lady's finger only slowed for but a moment, allowing you just long enough to catch your breath before you were completely nude and thrown onto her bed. With A look of desire in her eyes that only told you she had no plans of being done with you anytime soon.

✨

#resident evil village #theo writes #alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitriscu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #sasha from safety #plus like #the whole “yours” thing is just so smooth and hot #and i had to use it 👀#just #yes #re8 fanfiction #lady dimitrescu fanfic #happy hallowee 🎃✨

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nyxmainex · 5 months

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I finished it guys. I finished them. IN A DAY.

Be it, they are VERY rushed and look as such, but I AM PROUD OF MYSELF FOR ONCE.

@velnna @bara-izu @necromosss

Fanart for your characters.

(Warnings: Me rambling)

If any of the artist I made this for see this, I hope you like it even maybe a portion as much as I do. Maybe more. Genuinely, each of these three artists inspire me to continue my hobby of making art. The reason I even do this hobby is to share it in hopes to inspire others. As much courage as it takes for me to even make these much less post them is just proof to myself how far I've come in terms of social interaction. I thank my friend, my mom and teacher for supporting my hobbies and specifically convincing me to make this. I'm off on a ramble, apologies.

I really do hope you like this. Each character has something I added to them, and I explain in their dedicated paragraph. Then you also get an overall part:).

MIRA ♡

Necromosss is the second BG3 artist I found on Tumblr and I adore their art. Everytime I see Moss post, I promise you I immediately spread it to my friends just so they get the recognition they deserve.

Mira was the last character I ended up drawing, and is definitely the most hurried and sloppy. I made hers pretty late, close to the time I sleep, yet I do feel proud of how I made her. Imagining Mira in the stories I've created, I believe she'd fit in with Meladonia, a kingdom of ghosts, poison, and death. Overlooking the main theme, Meladonia's queen, Chamixie (and funny enough, my character who romanced Gale), is a very lighthearted, flirty person. She, while respecting death and it's concepts, is always up to make an occasional joke. She doesn't take everything personally, and I think she'd get alone well with Mira. The Meladonia magic is dark magic known at Kalak. 'Mixie (Chamixie's nickname) created Kalak as a form of a way to express herself. Kalak magic is not negative, and it's not harmful. In fact, Kalak magic is meant to heal and embrace your fears to use positively. Most of the time, using Kalak magic causes small white, almost snake-like slits to form in the pupil of the user's eyes.

I hope you like how I drew her!:)

STAEVE ☆

MAF is the first BG3 artist I found on Tumblr. I can't put in to words how much they've inspired me. Me and my mom both love Staeve, we think he's great, and I can't wait to see more art from Velnna.

Staeve is the first character I drew, and though not as rushed as Mira's, I wasn't confident drawing him. I'm not too sure about how I drew him, though I do hope anyone reading this likes it. Much like Mira, I imagine he'd be from Meladonia if put in my stories.

In case you haven't read about Kalak magic, I'll copy it: The Meladonia magic is dark magic known at Kalak. 'Mixie (Chamixie's nickname) created Kalak as a form of a way to express herself. Kalak magic is not negative, and it's not harmful. In fact, Kalak magic is meant to heal and embrace your fears to use positively. Most of the time, using Kalak magic causes small white, almost snake-like slits to form in the pupil of the user's eyes.

I've, as an anon, told Velnna about one version of my first OC (Broodmother Nera). And she's a version of my main five characters. Her and Chamixie are sisters, four years apart (Nera is 28). Chamixie is a much more sort of flirty person and takes everything told to her with a drop of comedy, unless it's extremely serious (ex: any abuse) as she has experienced negative situations herself. I imagine that she'd want to be friends with Staeve as long as he wants to, but would likely rather protect him even if he doesn't want to be friends. Staeve reminds Chamixie of Alison, the youngest of the five sisters, and was Chamixie's previous life's bio daughter. Even if they are sisters in this life, Chamixie still, while not overprotective, is cautious around Alison. To an extent, Staeve gives off a similar vibe as Alison, and 'Mixie would do more than her best to help Staeve without being overbearing.

I hope this is interesting enough, and that you enjoy how I drew Staeve.

HALION ◇

I have so much trouble remembering how to write this lovely man's name, please correct me if it's wrong, I have terrible memory.

I recently found Bara, and I love all their characters. (No joke though, I ran to my mom to show her your characters). Halion is definitely one of my favourites.

I was the most confident creating Halion, and I genuinely am proud of my art. This is honestly one of the few times I do feel proud of myself. From the posts I read, which is not too many, I love his cheery personality. He makes me believe he'd be from Parfi if he was in my stories. Parfi is the kingdom of the Wasteland, but is known for war, previously known for lust, but after Lord Clemin became the ruler, she changed it to accommodate travellers. While it was re-built for wars, she's made it a beacon of light within a desert. That reminds me of Halion. Clemin, as a ruler, comes off as strong and demanding. But out of all five of the rulers, and as the second oldest sister, she's very soft. Even with her own insecurities, she lifts people up and encourages their positive ambitions. She's actually not very confident, even though presenting as such. Even if she is very silent, and kind of reserved, she'd feel comfortable with talking to Halion.

She created Taei magic, the magic of heat. Taei magic is considered neutral magic, and though she has used it negatively on herself, Taei was meant to be positive. Using Taei magic is essentially holding the essence of a flame, and it's a guiding light to find others. Clemin wants the people of her and her sister's kingdoms to never have to experience what any of them did/do. Using it reflects a flame in the user's eyes.

I hope you agree he'd be from Parfi, and if not, tell me why:)! I also hope you like the art I made for him.

OVERALL/EXTRA

I'm sorry this post is so long, and I wanted to be finish setting up my blog when I made this but I'm just too impatient to do so. The reason this post is so long is because while I could've made art of any artist I enjoy, these three artists inspired me the most. (And I'm an overthinker, so I want to make sure you understand how much I appreciate these artists.)

I hope you enjoy the ideas I had and the art I made. I love all three of these pieces I've made, and I love the original art that they were based on more. And if it's alright with the artists, I'd love to draw more!:)

While writing this, my hands are shaking. Ignore any mistakes in the writing.

(References)

Mira: (her Notion page)

Staeve:

This

And this

Halion:

This

And this

PROGRAMS USED:

Infinite painter for lineart and Clip Studio Paint (pro) for everything else.

Edit: LOOKING BACK AT THIS, IT'S SO SAPPY AND LONG I'M SORRRYYYYYY

#art #artist #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #fanart #staeve #halion #mira #velnna #maf #bara izu #necromosss #please like this #social anxiety #i was convinced #:)

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pathos-logical · 1 year

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How to Keep Doing Descriptions (from someone who does a fuckton)

Plain text: How to Keep Doing Descriptions (from someone who does a fuckton)

This is a list aimed mostly at helping people who already write IDs; for guides at learning how to do them yourself, check my accessibility and image description tags! I write this with close to two years of experience with IDs and chronic pain :)

Get used to writing some IDs by using both your phone and your computer, if you can! I find it easier to type long-form on my laptop, so I set up videos and long comics on my phone, which I then prop up against my laptop screen so I can easily reference the post without constantly scrolling or turning my head

I will never stop plugging onlineocr.net. I use it to ID everything from six-word tags to screenshots of long posts to even comic dialogue! On that last note, convertcase.net can convert text between all-caps, lowercase, sentence case, and title case, which is super helpful

Limit the number of drafts/posts-to-be-described you save. No, seriously. I never go above 10 undescribed drafts on any of my four blogs. It doesn’t have to be that low, but this has done wonders (italics: wonders) for my productivity and willingness to write IDs. If I ever get above that limit, even if it’s two or three more, I immediately either describe the lowest-effort post or purge some, and if I can't do that then I stop saving things to drafts no matter what. No exceptions! Sticking to this will make your life so much easier and less stressful

My pinned post has a link to a community doc of meme description templates!

Ask! For! Help! Please welcome to the stage the People’s Accessibility Server! It’s full of lovely people and organized into channels where you can request/volunteer descriptions and ask/answer questions

I make great use of voice-to-text and glide typing on my phone to save my hands some effort!

Something is always better than nothing!!! A short two-sentence or one-sentence ID is better than no ID at all. Take it easy :)

If you feel guilty about being unable to reblog amazing but undescribed art, try getting into the habit of replying to OP’s post to let them know you liked it! This makes me feel less pressured to ID absolutely everything I see

This is a sillier one, but I tag posts I describe as "described" and "described by me." When saving to drafts, I never preemptively tag with "described by me," since for some reason that always makes me feel extra pressure and extra stress. Consider doing something similar for yourself if that applies!

I frequently find myself looking at pieces of art which feel like they need to be considered for a bit before I can write an ID for them, and those usually get thrown into drafts, where the dread for writing a comprehensive ID just builds. Don’t do that! Instead, try just staying in the reblog field for a bit and focus on the most relevant aspects of the piece. Marinate on them for a little; don’t rush, but don’t spend more than a handful of seconds either. I find after that the art becomes way easier to describe than it initially seemed!

On that note, look for shortcuts that make IDs less taxing for you to do! For example, I only ever describe clothes in art if they're relevant to the piece; not doing that every time saves a lot of time and energy for me personally

Building off of that, consider excusing yourself from a particular kind of ID if you want to. Give yourself a free pass for 4chan posts, or fanart by an artist who does really good but really complex comics, whatever. Let it be someone else's responsibility and feel twice as proud about the work that you can now allot more energy to!

As always, make an effort to find and follow fellow describers! It’s always encouraging to get described posts on your dash, and I find that sometimes I'm happier to ID an undescribed post when the person who put it on my dash is a friend who tagged it with "no ID"

TL;DR: To make ID-writing less stressful and more low-effort, use different devices and software like onlineocr.net and voice-to-text, limit the amount of work you expect yourself to do, and reach out to artists and other describers!

#i have no idea if there's a real audience for this post but this is a genuine list of things i do to help myself out #i hope it can help someone else out too <3 #accessibility #image descriptions #my posts #kay talks #long post #this has been in my drafts for so long i'm exiling it because i can't stand wondering if it's coherent any longer

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blackypanther9 · 1 month

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Patient Alastor – Father!Human!Alastor x Son!Reader

WARNING!: None. Just a LOOOOT of Fluff and some clingy Alastor. Just if you squint.

A/N: This is the second part of Alastor teaches M/n how to hunt. Again, DON’T YOU DARE TO MAKE ANYTHING PERVERTED ! *Holds up the rolled up newspaper, ready to smack perverted heads* (Pic belongs to rightful owner, let us pretend that blush is because he is sick, there are no sick Human!Alastor fanarts *Pout*)

TAGLIST: @l0liamk @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @moiravim @meg-giry1 @wen01203

Words: 4 043

M/n put all the bags away, took off his jacket and shoes and then went to his Father’s bedroom. Just as he opened the door, he saw his Father waking up.

“Hey, Dad. How are you feeling ?”, M/n asked gently.

He entered the room and closed the door, opening the window again.

“A slight bit...better.”, Alastor replied with a hoarse voice and a cough.

M/n hummed and sat down next to his Father, on his bed.

“Do you need anything ?”, the boy asked.

“...Yes...”

“What is it ?”

“Hug.”, Alastor replied.

M/n looked at his Dad, who lifted his blanket. M/n sighed and got under the covers and into his Father’s arms. Alastor let the blanket back down and snuggled with his Son, close to his chest, humming comfortably. He needed that comfort right now.

“Only for 30 minutes, Dad. I need to cock us some food soon.”, M/n gently told him.

“That is enough time for me, mon petit. (My little one)”, Alastor replied with a few coughs.

M/n hugged the sick Radio Host back, tightly and rubbed his back gently. It had his Father melting slightly and he relaxed into a light sleep soon after. After 25 minutes, M/n started to carefully get out of his Father’s embrace, but he tightened his grip.

“Mine.”, Alastor mumbled out.

“Dad...I have to start cooking.”

“I still have five minutes. Mine.”

“I know, but...”, M/n tried to get out of the hug.

Alastor tightened his grip even more.

“Mine.”

“Papa, I am not a Plushie.”

“Hmmm...you are right now. MY Plushie. Now be a good Son and give me my last four minutes.”, Alastor argued back and made no move in loosening his grip.

M/n huffed and gave up, giving his Father his last four cuddle minutes. He didn’t actually hate it, but he remembered that he had to wash dishes, which will take more cooking time from him.

“Oh, by the way...”

“Hum ?”

“Tony is coming over later, for a visit.”, M/n informed.

Alastor froze.

“Tony ?”, he asked with his voice slightly higher.

“Yes. He wanted to bring over some teas. Your coworkers also wanted to give you something. I collected it already, but...you won’t let me go to get the items.”, M/n said with a slight tease.

He knew that his Dad was now curious. Alastor sighed and slumped.

“I hoped no one will see me in this state...”

“Dad, it’s okay to be sick and ask for help. Also, even though you and Tony never made anything official, you two behave like Brothers around each other. I call you both platonic Brothers. You tease each other like Brothers, you joke around like Brothers, you pull small pranks like Brothers...you two just give off the vibes.”, M/n told his Father with a gently smile.

Alastor was shocked to hear his Son say that.

“I...I never thought...about it like that...You really think so, mon petit?”, Alastor asked with a cough.

“We all think so. Tony has no problem, with me, calling you two platonic Brothers. He likes it especially when I call you his platonically little Brother. Because you are two years younger than him.”

Alastor blushed slightly at that, not in a romantic way, but in slight embarrassment. He never thought about any of that in that way. Yes, Tony and him got along just fine, they understood each other, despite their differences. He also noticed that they were quite close, even though they never said that they were friends. They were very similar and never let a good laugh escape them.

Alastor smiled a bit brighter. Yes, Tony and him can be something like Brothers. It...doesn’t sound as wrong as he would have thought. Alastor always wanted a big sibling, guess now he had an older Brother. He looked at his Son.

“And you...don’t mind it...at all ?”

The boy chuckled.

“Are you kidding, Dad ? No. I don’t mind at all. It is funny and nice to see that you found someone, who could be like a bigger sibling to you. I mean it. Now I have an Uncle.”

Alastor chuckled hoarsely. Then he opened his arms, letting M/n out of his warm embrace.

“Now you got me curious. What did my colleagues send me ?”

“Us, Dad. Wait here, sit up slowly and I will be right back.”, M/n replied and dashed off.

The sick man smiled and slowly sat up. Soon enough M/n returned with bags in his hands. Alastor’s eyes widened in shock, but his smile didn’t drop.

M/n put the bags on the bed and Alastor got to slowly unpack the first one. The little boy decided that he will give his Father Peter’s, Tony’s and Francisco’s bags last.

“In them are things for the both of us. Sweets are mostly for me, considering that you hate them most of the time.”

“I hate sweets all the time, mon ange (My Angel).”, Alastor uttered out.

‘That’s a new pet name...Not bad, even though it sounds more fitting for a girl...’

“Not all the time, you liar.”, M/n denied.

“When did I like sweets, hm ?”, Alastor asked, skeptically.

“You like Tony’s Lemon cupcakes, because they taste a lot like Lemon and barely sweet. Even the glazed sugar is sour and tastes like lemon. It is still a sweet pastry, but you like it. And let us not forget that you eat Beignets too.”, M/n called his Father out on it.

To be honest, Alastor forgot about that entirely. He made a surprised hum and then looked into the bag again.

“Fair enough. I see your point, mon petit.”

“I think you can sort everything from the bags. Most of them have a lot for you, some of it you will immediately know, is just for me. I will be making Lunch until then, any wishes ?”

Alastor looked at his Son and thought about it.

“Chicken Gumbo ?”, he asked his Son.

M/n nodded and left. He can make that. They barely had chicken Gumbo, but it seems his Father had a chicken craving right now, more than venison.

The boy entered the kitchen and sighed gently as he saw the dirty dishes he still had to wash, but he quickly got to it. He filled the sink with hot water, grabbed a sponge and some dish soap, then he went to washing the dishes.

After he was done with that, he started to get everything out, he needed, and started to prep everything for the Gumbo. He cut the vegetables, the meat and then got to making the dish itself.

-Time skip-

The Gumbo was almost done in a few minutes, as suddenly someone knocked on the front door. M/n rushed to the front door, opened it and saw Tony standing there, with a bag in his hand.

“Bonjour (Hello), M/n.”, Tony greeted.

“Bonjour, Uncle Tony.”

The man chuckled as M/n let him enter. He took off his shoes and looked at M/n, sniffing the air.

“Hmm. Smells good in here, what are you cooking ?”, he asked the boy.

“Thank you. I am cooking Chicken Gumbo. Dad asked for it.”, M/n replied.

Tony nodded and then gave the boy a concerned look.

“Where is Alastor ?”

“He is in his bedroom, looking through the gift bags. Yours, Francisco’s and Peter’s he will get at the end.”

“Ah...okay. How is he ?”

“A bit better than yesterday, I would dare to say. He didn’t throw up like yesterday...”

“He threw up ?”

“Yes, he did. I had to give him a bath after that, some of his sick was on his night shirt. He was very much against the idea at first, but we pushed through. I couldn’t let him go back to bed smelling in sweat and with the smell of his own sick.”

“Oh my...”, Tony got out softly, in worry.

“Do you want to eat some Gumbo too, or something else perhaps ?”, M/n offered.

“I will have a bowl, thank you.”

“Okay. You should probably go and say hello to ton petit Frère (your little Brother).”

“If you continue to say that I might call him that on accident.”, Tony said slightly embarrassed.

“So what ? Papa will like it. I talked to him about it today and he didn’t seem to have a problem with it. He even asked if I really don’t have a problem with it.”

“And...do you ?”

“Not at all. I am happy that he has someone who can act like an older sibling to him. He might need a bollocking from time to time.”

Tony chuckled.

“We both know that he needs one from time to time.”, the older man said.

“He sure does. But I am his Son and with that can’t always be the one to scold him.”

“Fair. I’ll take that job for you, gladly.”

“Thank you, Uncle !”

“Anytime. You need something from me, I am here to help. No matter what.”, the man promised.

M/n smiled at him and then they parted ways. Tony went up the stairs and to Alastor’s bedroom, while M/n finished cooking.

When Tony entered the bedroom, he spotted Alastor unpacking the last gift bag already. He had a giant, genuine smile on his face and he sorted everything that was for him and M/n neatly too. He had a small coughing fit and looked to his right, away from the door.

Tony gently knocked at the door frame, smile on his face, after Alastor was finished coughing. Alastor’s head swung around and he looked at the door, surprise was evident on his face and then he showed his teeth.

“Tony ! Bonjour !”, Alastor greeted with a hoarse voice.

Then a coughing fit started.

“You shouldn’t try and force your voice to be louder than needed, petit frère (little Brother).”

Alastor’s eyes widened in surprise as Tony called him his little Brother. A stupid grin formed on his face and he fell on his bed again with his back. That sounded really comforting... Yep, it is decided...Tony is, from now on, the Radio Host’s big Brother.

“Sorry, frère aîné (big Brother)...”, the sick man muttered.

Tony was surprised at his meek response and the title he got from Alastor, but smiled big anyways.

“It’s okay. Just don’t force your voice and body to do too much, you are pretty sick, after all.”, he replied and then sat next to him, while Alastor sat back up, looking at the older man.

Tony was one of the few people that knew how much Alastor hated to be touched, yes, the Radio Host didn’t let many know that, for reasons. So Tony opened his arm, inviting Alastor to come into a side hug.

The sick Radio Host smiled gently at the older male and leaned into the offered embrace. Tony wrapped his arm around him and squeezed him gently. They knew they had to keep this platonic brotherhood a secret. Otherwise Tony would never get a break from some people he was friends with.

“How are you, hmm ?”, Tony asked.

The Radio Host sighed gently.

“I’ve been better, but I think I am better than yesterday.”

“Your Son told me that you threw up yesterday. It didn’t happen today, right ?”

Alastor froze for a second and then shook his head.

“It didn’t happen today. Not yet. Let us not summon that occurrence again. The aftermath was very...nerve wrecking at the beginning.”

Alastor turned his head away and coughed into his arm, then sniffled. Tony reached out for the pack of tissues and handed Alastor one.

“Thank you.”, he said and cleaned his nose.

“You are welcome. M/n told me that he had to give you a bath. You both pulled through, I’ve heard.”

“M/n had the idea to add some bubbles into the water, so I was covered. We even made a small agreement, he washed everything above the water and I wash everything below. So no harm was done.”

Tony nodded, glad, that his little Brother was comfortable enough to talk about it.

“How are your muscles feeling ?”, Tony asked.

“Very weak, to be honest. Very sore too...”, the younger male admitted.

“Oh my... Well I brought ya som’ teas !”, Tony said happily, letting his own accent fall through a bit.

Alastor chuckled a bit and then coughed again.

“Really ? What did ya get ?”, Alastor asked with his own Creole accent.

“Som’ Hibiscus tea, Chamomile tea an’ som’ Peppermint ! They’re all supposed ta help ya get betta !”

Alastor smiled and hugged Tony tightly. The two years older male didn’t expect it, but was quick to hug him back.

“Thank you...”, the Radio Host said gently.

“No prob. Oh, and ta food shall be ready soon.”, Tony informed Alastor.

“Good ta know.”

“Did ya Son eva hear ya accent ?”

“No.”

“Why nah ?”

“I was too embarrassed about it.”

“He won’ judge ya.”

“He might nat understand me.”

“Des conneries. (Bullshit)”

The Radio Host’s eyes widened at what Tony said, he just smiled at Alastor, who slowly parted from him.

“He loves ya. He is prob curious how ya accent sounds.”, Tony told Alastor.

“Ya may be right...”

“I know I’m right. He asked me quite a lot how ya sound an’ talk with ya accent.”

He looked at Tony in surprise.

“I...I neva knew...”

“’Course ya didn’t ! Ta boy neva asked ya ! He was too scared ta ask, in case he made ya uncomfortable !”

Alastor was silent at that. He had no idea that M/n wanted to hear it.

“He was always confused why everyon’ had an accent, an’ ya didn’t.”, Tony threw in.

“He doesn’t have one eitha.”

“That’s ‘cause his Family ain’t from here ! They mighta moved here.”

That explained a lot. M/n had no real accent, at least not an accent that would have said that he belonged here. Alastor never really thought about it.

Then they both heard footsteps and the stairs making noises. Soon enough they saw the 11 year old boy, with two bowls in his hands.

“Lunch is ready you two.”, he said and handed Alastor and Tony their bowls.

“Thank ya, kiddo !”, Tony said.

M/n looked at Tony in surprise, then smiled and left to get his own bowl. He turned to his little Brother.

“See ?! He was beamin’ ! He neva heard my accent eitha !”

Tony tried to encourage Alastor. The Radio Host looked at the doorway, seemingly deep in thought.

“Ya may be right...”, the younger male admitted to Tony.

They both waited for M/n to return with his own bowl. Soon enough the boy did and they started to dig in.

“This is delicious, Kid !”, Tony complimented.

“Thank you, Uncle Tony.”, M/n replied.

That shocked Alastor, but he grew a soft smile soon after, eating another spoonful of his Gumbo.

“This is amazin’, Cher.”, Alastor complimented his Son with his accent.

M/n froze and slowly looked at his Father, then at Tony.

“Did...did he really...?”, he tried to ask Tony in utter shock.

Tony chuckled.

“Yeah, he did !”

M/n looked back at his Father and then a giant smile grew on his shocked face and he started to get very bouncy.

“I heard Papa’s accent ! I heard Papa’s accent !”, he celebrated in excitement.

Tony chuckled, while Alastor’s face went from worry to shock and then to amusement. He chuckled gently and continued to eat his Gumbo, coughing and sniffing here and there.

-Time skip-

The boy was cleaning the dishes as Tony brought Peter’s, Francisco’s and his own bag to Alastor. He put them on the bed between the sick Radio Host and himself. Alastor looked at Tony, puzzled.

“Wha are these ?”

“Pete, Francis’ and my bags ! Ya boy wanted ya ta open them last !”

Alastor was stunned in shock.

“Oh.”, was all he got out.

Tony chuckled and then laughed at how stunned the younger male suddenly was.

“Shall we wait for ya boy ta arrive ?”

Alastor looked at the bags and nodded gently, while he took a sip of water. Together they waited for M/n to return. The boy did, soon after, return with a cup of tea. He handed it gently to his Father, who took the cup from him.

“Thank you, Cher.”, the Radio Host said with a slight cough.

“No problem, Papa. It is Hibiscus tea.”

Alastor nodded gently and took a gentle sip. His eyes widened and he drank more.

“This is good.”, the sick adult said with a weak smile and drank the cup empty.

Tony smiled and then looked at M/n.

“Kiddo, I think ya Pa wants ta unpack his last three bags !”, Tony chirped up.

M/n looked at Tony and nodded after he processed what his Uncle said.

“Okay then. What are we waiting for ?”, the boy said and sat down next to his Father.

Alastor smiled softly and then took Francisco’s bag first. He pulled out three packages and read the labels.

“Homemade Lemon tea, homemade Peppermint tea and homemade fennel tea.”, he read out with a smile.

Alastor put the three teas on the night table and pulled out two sheets of paper next. His smile grew as he read the bold letters in Francisco’s handwriting. Then he chuckled.

“Homemade Chicken Curry from Grandmother and homemade Venison steak, from Father.”, he read out, “He really copied the recipes from his Family just for me ?”

“He said it will also help you quickly back on your feet. The Chicken Curry is spicy and spice is supposed to help recovery faster.”, M/n said gently.

The sick Radio Host smiled at his Son.

“My, wha a smart boy ya are, Cher. Who taught ya that ?”

“You and Uncle Tony did, Pa.”

Alastor ruffled his Son’s hair gently.

“Atta boy.”, he praised and then got out some small bottles from the bag.

Alastor gleamed happily as he read the labels.

“Som’ of Fancis’ own homemade spices ? Tony, tell ‘im a big thank you from me. That is really generous of ‘im.”

“Will do.”, Tony replied with a smile.

He then pulled out a small coupon that said that 30 Dollars are on it. He looked at his Son and gave it to him.

“I have a feelin’ this was for ya, mon petit.”

M/n took the coupon and smiled at his Father.

“It was indeed, so I can buy us everything we need to get you healthy again, without me taking your money all the time. It was really nice of him to do this.”, the boy chirped happily.

Alastor chuckled and then pulled out a glass of juice. There was a label that said that it was a strong Vitamin C juice for him and his Son to share, to get their immune system stronger. A few tissues for Alastor were inside too and then he pulled out a lunch box. He opened it curiously and gave an amused smile.

It held pieces of dragon fruit in it, two oranges and three lemons, with two Kiwis. The next thing he pulled out, he immediately gave his Son. A bag of sweets, which the boy eagerly took.

“Oh ? Wha is this ?”, the Radio Host said in curiosity.

M/n looked at his Father in curiosity.

“Huh ? What is it, Papa ?”

Alastor pulled out a small Plushie of a cat. It seemed to be handmade too. Alastor looked at his Son with an amused grin.

“Looks like Fancis got ya a pal, mon petit.”, Alastor said and gave the boy the Plushie.

M/n took it gently and looked at it in awe for a while, then he hugged it tightly to his chest.

“Whiskers !”, M/n named the Plushie happily.

The Radio Host and Tony were amused. Alastor never minded that M/n still liked Plushies in his age. A small reason for that was probably because his own Father always tore apart Alastor’s Plushies and toys, when he was a kid. Then he pulled out a card, opened it and read it, smiling in earnest.

After he read the card to the end, his smile was big and his eyes held a lot of appreciation. He spotted another one, addressed to M/n. He gave his Son the card and the boy lit up more and more by what he read.

The next one was Peter’s. The first thing Alastor pulled out were two boxes of juice. One was a Vitamin C juice and the other was Blueberry juice. Then he pulled out two cards and he read his own, while M/n read the one that was addressed to him. They were both smiling brightly. The next thing Alastor pulled out was a small bag of candy. He gave it to his Son who happily took it from his Father. The last few things were two different teas. One was M/n’s favorite and the other was a chamomile tea.

Then they went to the last and biggest bag. Tony’s.

There were two juices for each of the two of them. The two for M/n were a passion fruit juice and a peach juice, while for Alastor was a multivitamin juice inside and a cranberry one, all homemade. Then for each of them two of their favorite teas, which were, homemade too, some sweets and snacks for M/n and Alastor were pulled out next, that Alastor quickly sorted for them both. Next the sick Radio Host pulled out of the bag some baked favorite pastries, that both of them enjoyed greatly. Two packages of Alastor’s favorite Coffee was in there too and for M/n to go food shopping, where also two 50 Dollar Coupons inside. Then Alastor’s left brow rose up in curiosity. He pulled out something fluffy and small out of the bag. As he looked at it in his hand, his eyes were wide in awe.

It was a keychain, which held a small Stag. It seemed handmade too. Alastor looked into the bag and saw another small animal, he pulled it out and it was a fawn keychain. Also handmade. He looked at Tony, who chuckled.

“My Ma helped me with ‘em ! One for each of ya !”

Alastor gave Tony a wobbly smile and then he hugged him.

“Thank you, Brotha.”

“Always, Alasta.”

M/n sat there and smiled with absolute happiness. As the two adults parted, the young Radio Host let the boy decide what keychain he wanted.

“I want the big one ! If we are ever apart, we have something with us that reminds us of the other ! A feeling that the other is with us !”, M/n chirped happily.

Alastor liked the idea and put the Stag keychain on his Son’s set of keys, while he put the fawn keychain on his own set of keys. Then they read Tony’s cards and the younger man was close to tears.

“Thank you so much, Tony. Tell the others a thank you as well, yes ?”, Alastor asked gently.

“You are welcome and I will.”, Tony replied gently.

Then the older male looked at Alastor’s Son.

“And you, take good care of him. If you need any help, just come to me. Okay, little man ?”

“Understood, Uncle !”

“Good.”

With that the man excused himself and left the house. Over the next few days, Alastor was sick, M/n took a lot of care of him. He looked after him, cooked for the both of them, went shopping alone, reported to Tony how he was and asked for small favors if needed and he helped Alastor into the bathroom to bathe and all the other things. The boy went above and beyond for his Papa. Alastor felt blessed to have M/n as his child and Tony was very happy and proud of the boy.

He would always help his Father.

As Alastor returned to work, all his coworkers cheered and welcomed him back happily, told him the gossip that he missed while he was sick and looked out for him a bit more than usual. M/n couldn’t be happier and nor could Tony.

Masterlist HERE !

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