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lovedazai · 2 days

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BIGGEST LIE I EVER SAID . . . you finally pick up one of chuuya’s drunk phone calls.

ft. chuuya + f!reader, exes to lovers, implied blackout, taking care of hungover chuu, making up / out, 2.5k w.c.

chuuya is more used to loneliness than he’d ever admit. it came with the nature of his ability and his line of work, but it had only taken a few months with you to completely change his world, years of defense mechanisms overwritten by your soft touches and sweet words. now that it’s over, he can’t find it in himself to break his newfound habits, stubbornly clinging to their familiarity and basking in the fleeting warmth of the embers of your relationship.

even now that he goes to his favorite bar alone, he still covers the seat next to him with his jacket. it’s the one to his right; he always chose the seat closest to the door between the two of you, just in case.

he can still imagine the lipstick mark that would be left on his glass when you’d steal a sip, and he takes one pretending he’s pressing his mouth around it. he frowns as he swallows; was there anything left that wouldn’t remind him of you?

he downs the rest of what’s left in his glass, licking the stray scarlet drop that curls onto his bottom lip. his gloved hand is numb to the chill of the wine bottle as he pours himself another; it’s the last of it. today was hard, dozens of his men needlessly dying due to one subordinate’s laziness. all he wants is to hold you and let you make him forget all about his shitty day; you would’ve threaded your fingers through his hair and rubbed his scalp, letting his tension melt away off his shoulders, and then, he would’ve kissed you until it was all out of his system. instead, he’ll stumble home and spend the rest of his night in his empty penthouse, stress sitting in a tight knot in his stomach, mixed with the queasiness of too much alcohol and the ache of longing for you that never seems to go away.

god, he fucking misses you.

he pulls his phone from his pocket with one hand, the other still carefully cradling his wine glass. he lazily presses on your contact, still saved to his favorites. his eyes trail over your photo: it’s from when he brought you out to shizuoka. your hair is windblown and knotted from the motorcycle ride there, but you’re beaming at him, cheeks dimpled and eyes closed. his black jacket is draped over your shoulders, a stark contrast to the gold and peach of the setting sun behind you.

his thumb hovers over the call button. he only does this when he’s just drunk enough to ignore how bad of an idea it actually is, and to hear the sweet sound of your voice through your mailbox. it’s always after midnight when he calls, when he knows it’s too late for you to be awake and you won’t pick up.

good. he hopes you’re sleeping well.

he finally presses down on the call button, listening to the line ring. the leather of his glove is smooth against the glass as his finger traces the curve of his cup.

one…

he counts the buzz of the rings in his head. it always took five.

two…

he thrums his fingers against the bar’s dark wooden counter in a lazy rhythm. he wonders if you’re wearing that cute pajama set he loved so much tonight, with those tiny shorts that drove him crazy. maybe you fell asleep with your light on again, the way you used to when you’d wait for him to come home.

thrー

“hello?”

everything stops: his fingers, his thoughts, his heartbeat. he pulls the phone away from his ear, making sure this is actually happening, and he wasn’t hearing your voice in some alcohol-induced hallucination.

“...chuuya?” it’s muffled, and when he brings the phone back up, he can hear your sheets ruffle as you sit up in bed, your voice slurred in a sleepy rasp. “is everything okay?”

the room feels like it’s tilting, the dim lights of the bar haloing and growing fuzzy. he thinks he’s saying something, but he isn’t sure what. he feels sick, like his stomach is twisting itself and trying to crawl up his throat; he’s about to spill his guts out.

then he wakes up.

he only opens his eyes slightly before he squeezes them shut again. everything is too bright, and his head pounds in that special way that means he’s hungover or just used corruption. he groans, rolling over and burying his face into his pillow. it feels softer than he remembers, brain feeling like it’s full of static, disoriented and half awake. he swears the sheets smell just like the perfume you used to wear.

you.

he forces his eyes back open, lifting his head. that’s your dresser in the corner. these are your sheets, and there’s you, sitting on the other edge of the bed, typing on your phone. your hair is pulled back, and he can see your profile perfectly, just as gorgeous as he remembered. you see him move from the corner of your eye, looking up and meeting his groggy gaze.

“you’re up,” you stretch over to your nightstand, handing him the bottle of water there. it’s cold, small beads of condensation dripping down the sides. “finally. drink this.”

he downs half of the bottle in one go, the chill coating and soothing his aching throat. his voice is still raspy when he speaks, deeper than usual. “what am i doin’ here?”

“you don’t remember?” you tilt your head, smiling teasingly. “i guess you haven’t changed much. you’re still a lightweight.”

“gimme a break,” he grumbles into the mouth of the water bottle, taking another big sip. he’d let you get away with poking fun at him when he felt so shitty just this once. he tells himself it’s only because your cheeky smile looked so pretty in the daylight flitting through your curtains. “i was wasted.”

“i know,” you get up from the bed, moving toward your closet and shuffling around. he watches the way your legs strain as you reach on your tiptoes for something. you are wearing those shorts he loved so much, and he tries not to stare too obviously at the way they ride up your thighs.“i’m the one who picked you up when you were half unconscious.”

he hears you sigh and the soft sound of fabric as you push shirts around until you finally pull something off a hanger.

“here,” you’re holding a white button-down, and he recognizes it immediately; he has identical ones, pressed and dry-cleaned, lined in his closet. “you’ll feel better after you take a shower.”

“you kept this?” he pinches the fabric between his fingers; silky smooth, just how he liked it. your eyes widen, hand stiffening as you grip the shirt a little tighter. “thought you said you were gonna burn all my stuff.”

“whatever,” you sigh, rolling your eyes and tossing the shirt into his lap. “it was too expensive to get rid of. you already know where the towels are.”

he does know. his favorite part of his days was coming to your place after work, and he still remembers how warm he felt when you gave him a key so he could sleep next to you on nights when mafia work ran into the early hours of the morning.

he moves sluggishly when he gets out of your bed. he grabs a towel from the little shelf in your bathroom before he turns the water on, waiting for it to get warm and looking over your counter; you still have that expensive face mask he bought for you on an overseas mission, and he remembers how he’d stood between your legs as you sat on the counter, hands smoothing the curve of your hips as you brushed it onto his skin.

he takes his time in the shower, scrubbing himself clean lazily, muscles fatigued and sore. the white tea scent of your body wash soothes him the same way it would when he’d bury his face against your neck before he fell into another dreamless sleep.

when he comes out, dried off and dressed, you’re in front of the stove, the familiar smell of miso soup lingering through the hallway. he nearly wraps his arms around your waist out of the familiarity of it all, but clenches his fists at his sides to stop himself.

there’s a bouquet of flowers in the center of your small dining room table, a bundle of camellias and baby’s breath resting mockingly in a vase filled halfway with water. he glares at them as he sits down, thinking about what asshole could’ve bought them for you. did he write you poems on the card like chuuya did? he’d bet his own money he didn’t.

“by the way, those fell out of your jacket pocket,” you break the silence, nodding your chin towards the table; it's his cigarettes, one of the corners of the cardboard box bent. “you’re smoking again?”

“yeah,” he crosses his arms, fingers digging into his biceps. “i needed a new stress reliever. guess you found one too, huh?”

“what?”

“the flowers,” he mumbles. “is he treatin’ you good?”

you turn away from him and back towards the stove, but he can picture the look on your face when you speak, voice soft and tinged with a smile. “i bought those for myself.”

“oh,” he sits up a little straighter, sulk faltering as he clears his throat. “they’re nice.”

your socked feet are quiet as you approach the table. your hands are carefully cupped around the warm bowl of soup, and his eyes catch on your freshly painted nails. you must’ve gotten them done recently, and he tries not to think about how you used to love showing them off to him, or how nice it would feel when you’d drag them up and down his skin until the hair on his arms rose. you place it in front of him, full of steaming broth, kombu, and tofu floating serenely around slices of green onion.

he catches glances at you as you join him at the table, slurping his soup quietly. he didn’t think he could ever feel so unnatural around you, but tension clouds the air, awkward and uneasy. he stares into his bowl, like it could tell him what to say to fix this when you break the silence again. “do you remember what you said to me last night?”

he cringes; the last thing he remembers is that final glass of wine and your pretty voice on the other end of the line. he sighs through his nose, almost scared to hear your answer. “what did i say?”

“you said you missed me,” you brush your finger across the lone, pale pink flower petal that fell onto your table, tracing the curve of it, not meeting his eyes. “you asked me to pick you up and take you back home.”

you knew what he really meant: take me back to your apartment. it’s barely half the size of his penthouse, but it always felt like more of a home than his place ever did. there were signs of life dotted everywhere he looked, from your sink of dishes from last night’s dinner to your favorite candle in your living room, nearly burnt down to the bottom.

“you call a lot,” you finally look at him, voice quiet. “you don’t think i notice?”

“i know you do,” he whispers. “i only call so much ‘cause i miss you.”

you blink stubbornly, eyes watering. your lips tremble as you press them together, trying and failing to hold yourself together. he doesn’t hesitate to cup your cheeks between his palms, like it was an instinct.

“c’mon,” he sighs. “don’t do that. you know how much it breaks my heart.”

“i miss you too,” your voice shakes. “i really, really miss you, chuuya,” you melt against his chest the same way you always used to, arms wrapping around his shoulders and your forehead pushing against his neck. “i just want to stay like this for a few minutes,” you whisper pleadingly, words warm against his skin.

he could almost laugh; he’d stay with you for the rest of his life in your little dining room, holding you against him. he’d break the world in two for you if you asked him to.

“you’re still the best thing that ever happened to me,” he presses a kiss to your shoulder, and his heart flutters when you don’t push him away. he holds your waist, rubbing his thumbs against the small of your back. his cheek rests against your hair, and he inhales deeply. “i mean it.”

he isn’t ready to let you go when you lift your head off his shoulder all too soon, arms still solid around your waist when he feels your lips brush against his. you pull away just as quickly, but he cups your jaw before you can get too far. you fall back into each other like you were never apart, shakily exhaling in relief as your lips slot into perfect place against his own. chuuya loves you with every part of himself, and once he started, it was ingrained in him forever; loving you became a fundamental part of who he was.

you practically crawl into his lap, seating yourself on his thigh and wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders. his tongue traces along your bottom lip, and the noise you make drives him fucking crazy; his breath stutters as you whimper against his mouth and melt between his hands. he caresses your sides with a tenderness only reserved for you, trailing down to the plush of your ass from muscle memory alone.

the edge of the table presses into his side, painfully prodding at the edge of his ribs, but all he can feel is your soft lips, parted and pliant against his, and the tip of your nails, scratching against his scalp and down his nape.

this is what he meant when he said he wanted to come back home.

“i won’t fuck it up this time,” he pulls back to look into your eyes. “it’s you and me. got it?”

you nod, cheeks wet against his palms, lips curled upward as you press a kiss to the slope of his nose.

“there’s that smile,” he grins, thumb stroking beneath your dewy lashes. “i missed it.”

“i missed you,” you press your hand against his the toned skin of his chest, feeling the heavy pound of his heart beneath your palms. “i’ve wanted to kiss you like that again for so long.”

“oh yeah?” he smirks, nose brushing against yours. “you stay up at night thinking about me or something?”

your fingertips are warm against his cheek as you shove his face away, scoffing as you slide off his lap.

“where do you think you’re going, baby?” he tugs you back, kissing the corner of your mouth. “don’t think i’m lettin’ you go again.”

BSD MASTERLIST

#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖#chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #bsd fluff #chuuya fluff #bsd scenarios

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adamsrcnan · 2 days

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OKAY OKAY here we goooo an annoyingly long-ish post about all my thoughts on The Sunshine Court

Spoilers Spoilers Spoilersss you've been warned

First things first it is so interesting to see Nora writing from not one but TWO new people's perspective. Jean's perspective is just devastating being inside his head is heartbreaking the constant fear and panic and how much of his energy is used on just pushing down every memory of what was done to him. His coping mechanisms are terrifying and i truly do hope by the end of book 2 he has a healthier way of dealing with it bc baby boy stop hurting yourself :( Every sentence was so painful to read. But also his resilience the entire time to get through it no matter what, god i fucking love him!!! He is a fighter.

Jeremy's perspective is sooooo refreshing. He is such a little sweetheart i could cry. The fact that he sends hand written letters and he's so caring and genuine but he can also be so stern. When he dropped that "i asked you a question" to Lucas fkehdjdfjdh OK SIR. I'M SAT. His relationship with the family butler is so endearing as well i need more background on that for sure! My only one criticism is that he didn't have enough pov chapters and i'm hoping we'll learn more in the second book of course because there's still so much about him and his (dysfunctional? toxic?) family dynamic that we don't know yet but also i'm greedy and i wanna know EVEYTHING about him !!!

Kevin and Jean are so just tragic it actually breaks my fucking heart like "you didn't have to slit my throat on the way out" JEAN??? and "promise me you won't try again. I can't lose you." KEVIN??? And the fact that Jean to this day is still keeping that promise. Also Jean's obvious but secret long term crush on Kevin the way it's subtly dropped every time Jean has to stamp down on his desire's and "temptations" GOD PLEASE I CAN'T STAND IT

SPEAKING OF!!! BISEXUAL JEAN ??? BI JEAN??? BI JEANNNN !!!!

Neil and Jean oh my God like where do i even start?? The guilt Jean feels at what happened to Neil in the Nest and him finally calling him by his name after Riko's death and telling him his game was good. And Neil seriously needs to give himself more credit for how much of a caring person he is because the way he indirectly told Jean that he thinks he is worth saving and didn't even hesitate before asking Stuart to send someone after That Guy after what Jean told him. Neil Josten the man that you are!!!

Jean's little sister Elodie what a beautiful name. Them being so close and him reading to her. The way he found out about her death jolted me differently. It was so awful and i'm so sorry Jean didn't get to see her grow up and meet her again.

Renee and Jean oh my god. Jean thinking she's beautiful (bitch me toooo) And the whole right person wrong time ugh i can't stand it. Him wearing her necklace all the time, enough that Jeremy always notices it. And unabashedly stealing her picture from the foxes lounge. Like he did not give a fuck. He said this one is mine. One good reason to stay alive being rainbows i'm gonna FKSJSKDHDH. Theirs would be such a soft love.

Speaking of soft loves Laila and Cat are EVERYTHINGGGG. God they are so cute with their little domestic life and their rich gay boy son who crashes on their couch with his cardboard cut out dog. That whole friendship dynamic is beautiful. Their fierce protectiveness and care over Jean as well and the patience they have with him even after the little kitchen incident. When Cat took Jean out for a drive on her motorcycle god that was such a heart warming moment and Jean helping them cook as well and becoming the girls' little sous chef it's so cute so endearing !!!

FINALLY FINALLY THE JEREJEAN DYNAMIC

PLEASE I'M GONNA SCREAM

Jeremy being the one who told Jean that Riko was dead i don't even know what to begin with THAT like hhhhhhh. The way they're both stupidly attracted to each other but won't/can't do anything about it. THE WHOLE "say yes Jeremy" SCENE WTF WAS THATTT I WAS GOING INSANEEEE. Both of them having to stop mid sentence when they catch the other looking FINE as hell. Jean being so obvious that even Lucas picks up on the way he looks at Jeremy. Jeremy being there to ground Jean in a Moment and helping him come down from it. Grabbing his face and telling him he's okay. Moving into the room with him to make him feel more comfortable !! The way Jean grabs Jeremy's chin (boiiiii). Jeremy constantly reminding Jean that he is NOT A RAVEN ANYMORE no matter how many times he has to say it. Jeremy saying he'll wait as long as it takes until Jean speaks to him. JEREMY GIVING HIM A HUG AND JEAN CLUTCHING DESPERATELY TO HIS SHIRT FUUCUFHDHSJHSSUHDH and then the "will you help me?" And the "Anything you need" AND THEY'RE GOING TO TAKE A CERAMICS CLASS TOGETHER?!?!?!!!! i can't i can't i can't i caaan'ttt

There's so much more to say but i'm gonna leave it at this for now because i need to go re-read it again and take my time with it this time round but i really could not have asked for anything better Nora truly outdid herself here !!! I'm forever grateful she blessed us with this after so long.

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simp-ly-writes · 3 days

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My Old Friend Al'

Pairing: Alastor x Platonic!Reader

Summary: You have been friends with the radio demon when humans, when your time finally comes and you fall down to hell Alastor is happy to have his best friend back with him.

Warnings: 2000 words, canon-typical violence and language. Themes of death.

A/N: I know I have been sayin' that I would write an Alastor fic for awhile so here it is!

Masterlist | Taglist Request | un-edited.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist

↳ You were a waitstaff at Alastor's favourite dinner in New Orleans, working the nightshift you were the only staff in and you enjoyed the peace of it all. The chirping of the crickets right outside the door, the wind blowing down the street and few drunk, late night workers, or early morning risers that would grace your booths and bar.

While cleaning the various glasses by the till, Alastor would make his way to the stool just in front of you. Order a coffee- blank alongside a stack of pancakes with a side of fresh fruit that you would often pick at as you both talked till your shift ended at 7AM.

You did not know what genre of person he fell under from your list, nor why you felt such peace will in his presence. Time always appeared to slip by as you nodded along to his stories of the day, the material he planned for his talk show the next day, and the new suit he picked up just across the street.

His suits- always freshly pressed it seemed, not a speck or thread out of place just like the small smile he casted to you in greeting or while listening to you rant about the evenings customers, to your rent raising, or how your mother was insisting on you finding a partner to settle down with, you were getting "too old."

As you ranted about your life, Alastor always nodded his head along, taking gentle sips of his coffee while insisting you take more bites out of his food- seeing the tiredness in your features.

↳ You would be surprised to find a few extra dollars on the bar top every time you turned your back around, Alastor gone without a trace as you waited for his presence the next day. You would be even more surprised to find that your manager had been killed in the alleyway behind your place of work and Alastor ready to comfort you, allowing you to stay at his place for as long as you needed as your job let you go.

↳ Some time ended up being a long time as you fully moved yourself in. Alastor insisted that you joined him in the studio as he taught you how to operate the various mechanisms so he could focus on delivering the best show possible. You clapped after each story as he would bow playfully in return as you cut to commercial break and thus started the rest of your lives.

↳ When you returned back to the apartment one day, it was eerily quiet and you called out Alastors name, he should be home by now, you thought to yourself while checking every nook and carney of the apartment. Only to come up empty handed, you put the groceries away, went to find the studio already up for sale- no, note- nothing.

↳ Your heart broke- you lost a good friend that day and to what you did not know. The police changed their answer every week you went to ask for an update and soon you stopped on coming. You still had the rest of his savings stashed away in the apartment- feeling disgusted with yourself for using it you found a new place of work where you would end up meeting your spouse.

↳ It was bittersweet to move out of that apartment, to donate his things to charity shelters but with the baby in your arms, a proud mother latched to your arm, and a spouse that adored you dearly within a white-picket fence. You knew you could not complain. Yet all good things would come to an end as you found deaths cold embrace and feel into a deep red pit.

↳ Emerging onto hells streets was a shock to say the least as you scrambled out of the way to on-coming traffic as their horns blared in your ears, a couple was fucking in public right next to you under a lamp post as you shuttered in disgust- picking up your step towards what looked to be a welcoming sight- The Happy Hotel.

↳ You think you died twice that day when someone that looked and sounded to be your old friend Alastor opened the door to close it quickly in your face just after. Picking up your dignity, you started to make your way back down the hill and towards the city streets only to be stopped by the shadow of a man appearing before you- Alastor once more.

"Why hello there! It has been some time, dear-friend," He singed to you, hand extended as you received a firm shake just like your new reality.

"A-Alastor is that really you?" you questioned, nerves in your tone as your hand shook holding his own. Alastors smile softened into a small line, your heart pounded- eyes widening in remeberance to all those nights at the bar-top.

"Yes dear, the same one you know," Alastor reassures you now dragging you back up the hill and into the hotel. Various demons and creates alike look at you, look at Alastor, and look at your hands together with a raised brow.

A small girl comes striding up to your leg, pulling at your pant-leg as you bend down to hear them better. You fall back when they tackle you into a hug, jumping up and down on your chest as you cough and coke before Alastor pulls them off of you by the back of their skirt as they go to hide behind his leg.

"And that was Niffty-" Alastor begins to speak in a strained tune as one of his shadows helps you to stand as you whisper a thanks to it, trying to ignore the various stares burning into your back as yuor cheeks paint themselves a brilliant red- matching Alastors jacket perfectly.

"I'm Niffty- Yes! And you are Alastors old friend, he tells me all about you! Especially when he's having a bad day-" Niffty spews out as you try and gather every piece of information to ground yourself before Alastor cuts her off with a sharp-toothed smile, a screeching heard as you stumble back into a wall to escape the sound.

"Apologies," Alastor voices, eyes filled with nervousness as he stares at your scared form- unknowing to his still green eyes staring through your soul and the antlers growing from his... interesting new haircut.

"It's alright?" you try and reassure the demon yet it comes out more like a question as you now make eye contact with the blonde jumping up and down- being held back by a spider-person and emo girlfriend. You offer them a cheezy wave while straightening out your suit jacket and fix the ring on your finger.

"You got married?" Alastor comments, voice back to being soft as you nod once, still unsure how not produce another outburst. "Have a kid too," you reply softly, eyes looking at your shoes and Niffty moves to pick at your clothing once more.

"Then we do have much to catch up on, Husk a drink for me and my friend here," the Radio Demon orders as you follow his lead, nostalgia hitting you hard as you laugh and remember on memory after memory as the rest of the hotel staff stand back, popcorn in hands as they observe someone not getting brutally murdered by hugging the man.

↳ You are surprised that with how much time had passed since you two last saw one another, you still worked well together as you helped to organize his newest radio broadcast. A simple talk show and you were the newest spokesperson as you both recounted life advice and recipes that all of hell was beyond confused to what they were listening to.

↳ Alastor would do his best to keep his killings and overlord activities on the down-low with you, warning everyone around him not to slip a word to you without severe consequences. He knew that you would not stand for such things which made him even more confused as to how you even ended up in hell in the first place.

↳ You and Alastor would cook for the hotel, stealing food off one anothers plates with of course a side of fruit and two cups ofpiping hot black coffee at the breakfast table.

↳ You both started a reading club at the hotel with Charlie and Vaggie whom you had become close friends with over your time at the hotel as you had a room just across from Alastor's- the only person to share a floor with the man and he insisted upon it

↳ You walked the streets with him, pointing out the various shops you wanted to enter as he kept a watchful eye of your surroundings that you paid no mind to. Yet when you entered a store, you could not help but notice the panicked looks of staff and the relaxed look of city-goers when he finally went inside a building.

You tugged on Alastors sleeve as he leaned down humming that he was now listening. "Why is everyone so shocked to see you here?" Alastor chuckles, shaking his head side to side as playful sound effects play around you, helping to ease the tension forming in your shoulders as you play with your wedding band once more.

"Nothing that you have to worry that brilliant head of yours with, old friend" he reassures you, smiling more brightly at the staff as they still and turn to the back as you are free to choose anything you like as Alastor comments he would pay afterwards... right...

↳ At dinnertime, the hotel residents loved hearing of your various memories with one another- shocked of the platonic history you shared together and the domestic moments you shared from dancing in the kitchen together, your first time ice skating when you visited another state and the handful of times you spilled coffee on one of his suits that he insisted on being okay with.

↳ When you did find out about his killings and murders, you ran from the hotel a dishevelled mess of tears and fear. Alastor stoped himself for stalking after you, heart aching for losing a friend so quickly like this as he made quick work of the waitstaff that told you of his past.

Their screams did nothing to ease his pain as he worried to where you ended up that night, whoever you blindly trusted with that big heart of yours, and how he could share another morning coffee and gossip-filled chat with you and Rosie during the afternoons.

↳ You ended up running to Rosie who also admitted to what she did as you threw up on her shoes as she patted your back. She insisted that you never had to be worried, no one would try anything like that in your presence and especially not in front of you unless necessary.

↳ Alastor came strolling through the door, your favorite mug in his hand filled with soup as you took the mug out of his had, placing it on the table and pulled the Radio Demon in for a hug as he stood there still before wrapping his arms around you

"I have a suprise for you," he stated after a moment when you pulled away, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand and taking a drink of the home-cooked meal with a small smile.

↳ You followed Alastor outside, running to find you spouse waiting there with open arms as you danced around in each others names. Looking over their shoulder you mouthed a thank you as he threw a hand in your face, leaning against his cane as Rosie stated at the two of you before commenting and glaring at your spouse, "If he ends up being a prick, I wouldn't mind eating him- or Alastor can rip him to spreads. Know your time here is only of their wishing."

You chuckle out, whispering reassurances into your spouses ear before joining everyone back at the Hazbin Hotel for yet another story time.

↳ Taglist: @jtcat305 @amarokofficial

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor the radio demon #fanfic #fanfiction #simp-ly #simp-ly-writes

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feroluce · 10 hours

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Lucid Dreamer (2/2)

part 1

Gepard stalls almost a week before he finally goes out to the safehouse, and it takes him a couple days to find it because Sampo didn't have the time left to be wasn't super specific about the location. But he does find it.

It's pretty bare bones, really. Gepard knows that was probably to be expected, but… It feels crushing, when he realizes there are so few personal things here. It's nothing specific to Sampo. Just some food, some medical supplies. A cot and a heater and a lot of mismatched blankets. Nothing to remember someone by.

But he does find the letters, in a metal box stashed away under the bed.

There are two for him. Three for Natasha, and two for Seele. One for Hook, one for Serval, one for Pela, one for Bronya.

Bronya's is mostly business. They knew each other from the whole Stellaron incident, but not much beyond that, and the incoming catastrophe is a more pressing matter. Seele's is actually two copies of the same letter, and Gepard realizes why when Seele is so angry she rips the first one up without reading it. He gives her the copy a couple days later, and she slinks off without a word.

Pela seems completely normal after hers is delivered, but Gepard knows better than to trust that. The next day, he finds her asleep in bed with Serval, bottles abandoned on the floor, both their eye makeup smeared and running and Pela's glasses horribly smudged and crooked on her face. Serval doesn't read hers in front of him, but she's clingy with Gepard, Pela, and Lynx for quite a while after. She throws herself into her work a lot. She insists the heater from the safehouse is busted and she needs to keep it. It's too dangerous for use by someone who's not an engineer. Might burn their house down or something. Gepard doesn't argue.

Hook's letter is short, with easy to read words. The rest of it is actually a treasure map, and she and the moles spend the next several days running through the Underground, finding hidden candy and toys. Hook asks them when Sampo is coming back, because one of the marbles she found from his map looks green, just like his eyes, and she wants to give it to him. Natasha shoos Gepard out of the clinic before he can even begin to think of an answer.

Natasha refuses to let him see what's in her letters, which ok, fine, he'll respect that. He hears from Bronya who heard from Seele who heard from Natasha herself though that one of the letters was a map and the other a catalogue, with all of Sampo's hidden "warehouses." Gepard promptly marches himself back out to the frontlines, where he can turn a blind eye. If a ton of stolen goods suddenly enters the black market, and if the orphanage and the clinic suddenly have new supplies, well, technically that's none of his business.

Gepard goes to bed, curls up under mismatched blankets and closes his eyes.

He doesn't dream.

One of Gepard's letters was also business, like Bronya's and Natasha's. He and Bronya follow everything meticulously, down to the letter, because there has to be some good to get out of all this, there has to be. Gepard can't let it all be for nothing, it would bury him.

And so the catastrophe passes. Not without casualties, and not without a lot of damage and destruction. But Belobog survives.

And after that, time just kind of…goes on. Gepard has been a part of the Silvermanes since he was old enough to enlist. The Fragmentum had gotten so much worse in the years before Welt sealed the Stellaron. He knows the statistics, it is literally his and Pela's jobs to keep track. He knows when he sees a face everyday in the camps and then it's suddenly gone. He's not unfamiliar with things like grief and loss.

He still catches himself checking the trashcans and the supply crates and soldiers' footprints sometimes, though.

But there comes a night where Gepard goes to bed, holding the mismatched blankets to his face, and he dreams. And it's strange, it's off, it sticks with him. Sampo doesn't look the same. He's thinner. His muscles have atrophied. He looks like how Gepard has seen soldiers after months in the hospital.

The most unsettling difference is there's a scar across the left side of his head, Gepard can see it over his ear, peeking out past his hairline, carving towards his cheek. Sampo is always careful about his face. Gepard once saw him dodge a Fragmentum monster and literally let it cut across his neck just to keep his face clear. He wouldn't let that happen for nothing.

Their actions in the dream itself aren't new. Sampo seems tired, run down and worn out, but he announces his presence with aplomb by lobbing a bunch of smoke bombs off the rooftops and sending his soldiers scrambling. Same shit, different day.

The new part is what he says when Gepard chases him out to the edges of the camp, tackles him into the snow. Gepard pins him to the frozen ground to detain him and Sampo doesn't even fight it, just looks up at him like he's seeing sunrise for the first time in months.

"I'll be home in one week."

#sampard #gepo #hsr gepard #hsr sampo #gepard landau #sampo koski #hsr natasha #pelageya sergeyevna #serval landau #bronya rand #hsr seele #hsr hook #I was initially just going to let Sampo stay dead because I love that kind of thing #but I ended up liking this ending so I guess I'll let it stay haha #I love thinking about Sampo's relationships with the rest of the cast and their reactions to all this #he was a founding member of Mechanical Fever. he still plays shows with Pela and Serval.#Pela is constantly giving him second chances like in the museum event and letting him volunteer with the Silvermanes.#And Serval could say SO much about him but all she says is 'hah that guy' and mentions Gepard is going to catch him someday.#I need the three of them to be a weird trio of buddies fdksaljfdkl #Sampo is seen with Seele plenty and he's with Natasha so much that Hook literally thought he was horribly ill for a long time.#I love them having some kind of odd comraderie #and oh my god I am the biggest Hook & Sampo stan ever they're so so cute and sweet and precious and WAH #so I think Sampo would want to be prepared for just in case he didn't make it back. that he would have a contingency plan for everything.#and he would miss these people and this city enough to show up in their dreams one last time.#but I'd like to think he saved Gepard for last #and it is not just because he has a crush or any kind of romantic feelings for him. There's more to it than that.#(If I'm being super honest I don't even really ship them with romance involved. I have a hard time picturing them like that.)#It's because Sampo trusts him.#It's because Sampo can see just how capable Gepard is and how hard he fights to protect people. He has a good heart. He's a good man.#And that is why Sampo trusts Gepard with something as personal as his final farewells. Trusts him to make sure Belobog is safe in his stead

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imissthembutitwasntadisaster · 2 days

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Taking this out of Faith's notes because it's not fair to clog them up but seriously I feel like Tilney is very often boiled down to charming man who knows about muslin but to me honestly the people who are like "hmm seems like a fake flakey guy" are more right because it's definitely got this underlying cynicism to it which put together with the charm gives a fairly calculating feel. But to me it's like! Imagine your mother dies and your father didn't murder her but when you describe it later you say he as good as killed her by his slow cruelty and disinterest, and you're left with your sister, your older brother who is also AWFUL, and that same father in an old obscure abbey. What do you do? a. you stop really liking or trusting many people because 2/3 of the people you're meant to like and trust are awful, and b. you get Really Good at being liked. Because that's going to get you out of that house, and it's also going to, as much as possible, save you when you are still in that house. It's not the ONLY response to an essentially emotionally abusive situation like that, but it is a clear response.

And this also explains why Tilney doesn't seem to take things seriously very often, because making a joke out of everything is also a tried and true way of surviving a life like that. If you laugh at it then it won't hurt you so he laughs at his family and he laughs at the shitty parts of society and at the Thorpes and at everything.

Except Catherine then turns up and she's not calculated, she's the opposite of calculated. She's charming because she's so honest, she runs up and pours out how sorry she is that she didn't make the walk and how much she wanted to and had been whisked away, and she tells it without an inch of propriety and it's impossible to keep being angry with her. She's silly but she's also inexplicable clear-eyed, she sees the unhappiness at Northanger so clearly even if she imagines the source wrong! That's always been so important to me as part of her character that she was RIGHT there WAS something rotten in the state of General Tilney!!! It just wasn't Literal Murder. And I think Tilney sees that and he loves that because it's so different from the twisted nature of his own past and upbringing, because it's true and honest and good and he still strives for those things (because even if his charmingness IS calculated, he still sees young women and their chaperones unhappy and abandoned and immediately steps in! he is still very much kind! I might speculate about how it's possible to live an identity for so long that it becomes true, but in this case that would just be speculation because we don't have enough information so I won't.) And then I think he does come to love Cathy properly with more time and all, but the original attraction I think is how straightforward she is.

And I KNOW this isn't the only interpretation of the characters but it's the one that makes Tilney make sense to me, he's too cynical and slightly bitter to truly be the perfectly kind charming man he makes himself out to be, but he genuinely cares too much to be a fraud. I think the complexities arise from the survival mechanisms he's created which make sense given his background, and how they intersect and interact with the rest of his nature and the outside world.

#northanger abbey #when I tell you I met this man lowkey in the middle of still living with my parents when it was Bad and I thought ough mood

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ask-the-critters-survival-au · 2 days

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Static breaks out from the Monitor's speakers...

"Ah, I am sorry young one. There is a delay in these messages. I would have tried to time it better if I could have. And to you, loving one, I am sorry as well... but please give me a moment. There is another child that requires my voice. I will however try to let you listen in on what I can, rest assured of that."

Static spikes as magic twists and pulls. An attempt is made to allow Picky's voice to pass through the medium's speakers- but if failure on that front occurs... Then only the voice from the monitor shall be heard.

"Child- I cannot reassure you- cannot give you proof. If you were to even dare to say to Catnap that Dogday is trapped within the Playhouse... He will do far worse to you then he did Kickin. He is not ready to be saved yet. He will not listen to reason yet. The prototype still enthralls his mind. I wish not to make a deal with you either- To ask to see Dogday's whereabout would cost you your eyes child- if not more. That is not something I wish to take from you."

"I promise you this- I will do all in my limited power to save him. That is my oath to you children. That is what I hope my fellows swear as well. To keep all 8 of you destined children breathing, you 8 stars who now find yourself upon a stage after 10 years of plans and schemes and tragedy begin to finalize as the first act of this story's finale arrives. You who's very fate lays connected- where one death may lead to loss of you all." "I swear to you that even if the worst is to come and Ᏽዐ𐌃'𐌔 𐌂ⶴꝊነ𐌄ክ truly does descend these hallowed halls, I will do my best to arm you against their divine march. That is how far I, and I hope my fellows are willing to aid you- for however much that means to you child. Please. For all of your sakes. Stop this purist of your fellow star. I beg and grovel to you. Please."

Static shifts and churns once more as once Picky's response may or may not be sent through old speakers- the connection is changed so that only Bobby and Hoppy may hear these next words.

"You have questions Bobby... You must. I hope you heard all of what I spoke of earlier... and Hoppy I hope can tell you of everything that has happened leading up to this as well as the rules of the magic that allows all of this to occur. I ask this of you Hoppy, no secrets. Please."

"Ask away your questions once your friend fills you in Bobby. Me and my fellows will do out best to answer as best as we can- but there are delays and the warping of time with these messages. Apologies if your responses are not post haste."

"Talk with you both soon... be safe."

(Let's be honest here. The Player's objectively horrifying if you take game mechanics into account- and even without them their luck is just- What do you do against that? Let's hope God's Chosen doesn't show up gang- Cause that would be really bad. Hope just hinting at the Player is okay with you mod! Have a great day!)

I don’t believe you. DogDay turned tail and fled. Left us. Like a COWARD. I am going to find that rabbit. And I am going to rip her limb from limb. And once I am finished, DogDay is next.

Meanwhile…

Thank you so much. You are far too kind.

(They did not hear either the voice from the monitor or Picky speaking)

[Mod note: Still indecisive about the player, but thank you for that anyways! Have a great day as well.]

#ask blog #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #ask the critters #smiling critters #poppy playtime au #ask the smiling critters #hoppy hopscotch #hoppy hopscotch poppy playtime #mod note #picky piggy poppy playtime #picky piggy #bobby bearhug #bobby bearhug poppy playtime #dogday poppy playtime #dogday

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lifeof-pink · 2 months

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when i first learned about how the fourth wall worked (making him view reality as a novel) the first thing i said was “…so he’s mentally ill. duh.”

because like????? “everything is awful and i am in terrible physical and mental anguish. i know how to make this better!” *enters derealization but like. magical*

#omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv #orv spoilers #???#i think thats pretty early in the series but idk #derealization #dereality #tagging those just in case #im probably fundamentally misunderstanding how the fourth wall works but like.#???????#insert ‘all trauma is serious’ panel here #i have it saved to my phone actually #somewhere #that whole arc was really interesting because it began to show us behind the curtain of dokja’s past #or at least im fairly sure that that’s when they began to expose that?#they mightve showed it way earlier but that i think was the first time I realized that the story was going in a very different direction #than i thought it would #like oh shit this isnt just some guy who likes web novels this is a man who has been deeply suffering his whole life and has latched onto #fiction as a coping mechanism

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fragmentedblade · 1 month

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Boothill's presentation being entirely on the twitter post makes me think he will be irrelevant in the story in the long(ish) run, and that the game itself won't dwell on him almost at all

#Kinda like Argenti but Argenti seemed to be part of a larger lore and worldbuilding #Boothill doesn't even give me that vibe #Cool design though. I do love revenge stories and western films so...#*sighs* I guess I may consider him if he's fun to play with and the story is interesting. I hope he takes Aventurine out of the grave #(Or do I? Emotionally I do. Rationally I think I may lean more towards 'keep Aventurine dead' tbh)#Imagine if his revenge is against the IPC in general and Aventurine in particular but when he gets there Aventurine is already dead #The enormous fail that would be hahaha #Automaton cowboy is such a good design though I would have liked it more had they taken the automaton way enhancing the clockwork thing #instead of the cyborg one with the futuristic air. What can I say I do love automatons and clockwork #and to me they're far superior aesthetically than cyborgs. Not into cyborgs and robots at all. Sorry Screwllum. Herta most beloved design #I wonder if his gameplay will revolve around some killing himself mechanic #I don't know what to say I do love those things gameplaywise. I love the risk they add and how they make one strategise a little more #Even beyond the story and the lore‚ Blade is still my fave character to use. So fun so flexible and ironically so reliable despite the risk #Abfksndk rambling #I am thinking of Aventurine and I'm thinking of Fu Xuan. I think I'll skip Robin unless they go dark-dark with her #but I'm still considering Sunday if they make him shady. I was looking forwards to Firefly but I've disliked her writing a lot #so for now she's a big skip. I wouldn't mind getting Topaz given I love the FUA mechanics and the SU #but I like other characters more and I don't like her design at all so I'll skip her too #Couldn't care less about IL (I have him in an alt account and I don't like him at all) so that's a big skip too #I like Screwllum but not enough for now. Hmmm I guess I could get one shielder since I do love them as characters #and then save until one character really convinces me. Boothill‚ Robin‚ Sunday hmmm I hope Sunday is shady and grey #I wonder if they'll bring Huaiyan. I would give a leg for Huaiyan. Yeah I've not moved on from the Xianzhou I love that place #and I adore Huaiyan and the Zhuming. I so hope we'll get to see that ship #I talk too much

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polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup · 6 months

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megumi 🤝🏽 yuuji

dying even if it’s only for a good minute only to be brought back to life bc fate realizes if they died for real then they would need to find someone else to fuck over. those two are like fates favorite barbie dolls.

apologies if this post is going to seem all over the place, just bear with me. i don’t even know if you’re going to see this BUT it’s okay bc i need to get this out my system 😭.

starting off — god, imagine the chaos that will ensue when megumi tells nobara & yuuji about his very tragic history with the zenins. but like he wouldn’t even tell them straight up, he’ll just make a little deadpan joke (my sarcastic, sassy son) & the others would look at him like : ??? wtf do you mean by that sea urchin head???

like imagine itafushikugi going shopping for like traditional japanese clothes for a little festival or some shit (megumi was dragged by his spikes to come along) & nobara is having the time of her life finding outfits for her & the boys. like it got to the point where she’s dressing them herself & she shows megumi an outfit that looked similar to the robe he was forced to wear bc of the zenin (it’s obviously not the same) & megumi just refuses to wear a robe with similar color patterns to the zenin robe.

megumi: that looks like the outfit the zenin forced me to wear. i wonder what happened to it, cause the last thing i know, i got blood all over it. so as the second member of the zenin hate club, im not wearing that….

megumi: wait that blue one looks decent. i’m going to try it on.

nobara:

yuuji:

nobara: …did he really leave without giving us the “ getting blood on a zenin’s robe” story?

imagine maki complaining about naoya in front of the first years, & maki just brings up naoya’s onesided beef with megumi & her stories of how naoya was so petty back in his childhood made him remember who tf naoya is (megs have selective memory, it’s okay)

megumi: ugh, he was so annoying. i remember when he came to my middle school back when gojo was busy dealing with the aftermath of his evil ex boyfriend evil plan & he basically kidnapped me. i was stuck in a car with that man for 40 minutes..you would hate him nobara.

maki: yeah you would hate him nobara.

yuuji: i’m sorry he kidnapped you??? why did you say that so casually?

nobara: fuck that. megumi is a disney princess, we know this already. BUT we’re just gonna gloss over gojo had an evil boyfriend?

& imagine when megumi finally tells his friends about the zenin clan was when yuuji just came back from the dead & they were asking how tf that’s possible. & somewhere in that conversation megumi just let it slip that his heart stopped beating once & itakugi looks at him in silence:

megumi: yeah the zenin clan basically forced me to exorcise some curses & complete a ritual to get a snake — that snake fucking bit me. it was my least favorite. but yeah i basically died. then yuuta brought me back. then i was blind for a good minute.

nobara, yuuji, & even sukuna:

megumi: it was a terrible time for me. gojo was even more clingier & protective. it got to a point where he started treating me like i was 6 again… reading me bedtime stories, singing me lullabies & describing the pictures in the stories since i was…yknow blind.

cue itakugi & even sukuna wanting to burn down the zenin but ofc they can’t do that…so they settle for pulling pranks on the members & traumatizing them ofc.

IM ALSO imagining how funny it would be for yuuji to be jealous of yuuta. like bro is basically living yuuji’s fantasy world. i’m giggling at the idea of yuuji fighting for his life to be either megumi favorite or nanami’s favorite.

you also opened my eye to the potential of maki & tsumiki… like i also like to imagine that in a happier world, they would understand each other on such a deep level. but they would also find parts of the other that they wished they had. but on a happier note i like to imagine that megumi would suffer whenever it was brought up that his aunt is basically dating his step sister. like maki would be a menace to megumi. every little thing he do? maki is texting tsumiki in a corner.

maki watching itafushi cook together in the kitchen: i can’t believe megumi has a boyfriend. it’s so cute that he thinks that he can hide this from me. lemme go snitch to tsumiki.

maki listening to megumi describe his fight with sukuna, a cursed spirit who apparently has a stripping problem: oh my god. megumi is truly yuuta’s boy. they both got cursed spirits obsessed with them…i need to tell tsumiki.

maki to megumi after witnessing his suicidal tendencies: don’t make me tell tsumiki.

i honestly love your story. the way you added so much more to megumi childhood is beautiful. it just make soooo much sense. but also your characterization of gojo is so precious to me. i’m waiting for gojo to go apeshit on the zenin. i’m also giggling in anticipation at gojo finding out about yuuta attachment to megumi. i like to imagine him to be kind of worried about it actually, bc that’s not fucking healthy. but i imagine him getting used to it since megumi will have a protector in the form of yuuta & his power of love.

i’m also curious to see mai’s role in this story since.

*sighs in disappointment at gege writing choices*

since she had a crush on megumi…yeah. but imma just interpret that as she wants to be his family. it keeps me sane

i also wanted to ask if there’s a chance that you would write a megumi POV of what happened in the zenin clan? ofc i would understand if you wouldn’t since it leaves a much more ominous feeling to the events. plus yuuta running commentary is a good mix of angst & humor so ofc i understand.

Yuuji: man fushiguro almost checks the boxes for a Disney princess. except he was never kidnapped or enslaved

Megumi, sold to the Zenin clan, who later kidnapped him: *sweating*

Nobara and Yuuji would be the co-vice presidents of the "fuck the Zenin clan" club if they knew what happened. They would be the presidents but yuuta and maki are already in a death match for the position and they're trying to avoid the bloodshed. they are not allowed to be treasurer because neither of them know how money works.

megumi is unaware that a formal club has been formed.

Megumi is suffering SO HARD in any world where maki and tsumiki are together. they won't stop ganging up on him when it comes to his love life and general wellbeing and holding hands where he has to see it. maki lectures him about his suicidal tendencies in the field, holds up one finger, calls tsumiki, and lets her pick up where she left off. maki tries to talk to him about relationships one (1) time and he tries to drown himself.

see i'm pretty open to writing a megumi POV but it, like most of my stories, falls in this nebulous category of "if i have the time." like, i've thought about writing megumi's pov before, there's a lot of stuff that happened that exists as like, background knowledge for me that will never make it through yuuta's pov because it doesn't make sense for yuuta to find out about it. It would be very tonally different, but if i did write it, it would be a different work entirely and i'd be making sea glass gardens into a series.

i'm eternally tempted by the siren call of making my works into a series. If i did it with sea glass gardens, i would want to add a one shot of Megumi's pov during the time leading up to sea glass gardens and a short multi-chapter of the gojo, nanami, shoko teen parenting trio. If I have the time, it will exist; if i don't, it won't.

#ironically the one thing that WOULD endear yuuta to yuuji is finding out about all of this #yuuji would instantly love him for all he did for Their Boy. it's the only way i see megumi actually fessing up to what happened #i think megumi's just someone who's really private and uncomfortable with people knowing a lot about him and he would try to hide this from #itakugi for as long as he could. it probably eats at him that the second years all saw him like this. i think he just hates feeling vulnera #megumi gives him the /extremely/ abridged version of events to get yuuji and nobara to chill about yuuta and how he acts (yuuji is convince #that there's no one who could be that perfect nobara keeps looking for homosexual explanations) and they instantly veer hard into finding #out everything there is to know about the zenin and how to hurt them and also yuuta's like. beloved in their eyes. megumi is their boy.#they love their boy. yuuta saved their boy. ergo they love yuuta now. it's simple math.#tonal shift is a huge sort of struggle with me as a writer just because i change my styles with every narrator #which is why it's kind of hard to flip between works if the tone is too different. i was trying to juggle sea glass gardens and toy rosarie #and i was just internally screaming b/c yuuta and jack could NOT be more different with narration styles and i was like 'fuckkkkkkkkk'#with yuuta i structure sentences with a lot of 'space' in them. i don't have a better word for it i'm not actually trained in writing so #it's all just whatever shit i made up along the way i have no officially terms. anyway. Yuuta's sentences are structured to have this sort #of detached distance between the actual message and the start of the sentence. So we end up with a lot of sentences that start w/ structure #like “yuuta thinks” and Yuuta feels“ b/c I think of yuuta as a very detached person because of how he lived. it's a survival mechanism.#a lot of the meat of what he feels has to come in almost absentmindedly. So you end up with Yuuta's suicide scene and losing the knife and #him having a line like “He swears he never meant any of the bad things he did” and the fact that he thinks his own survival is a bad thing #/he's/ to blame for is almost backdoor'd in as a given premise. it's assumed. it's not even the point of the sentence. he's been living wit #jack murdock meanwhile is an intensively retrospective character that's meant to make you almost feel claustrophobic from how “close” his #narration style is. a lot of the actual message is conveyed through imagined scenarios and emotional recollection. he's a character steeped #in regret who has been torturing himself with it for years. yuuta's survival mechanism is isolation but jacks been yearning to get back wha #he lost for so long and dreaming of it that he's steeped in really vivid internal imaginings.#with jack you have multipage lamentations remembering his son buying cereal with him but yuuta drops the fact that his parents stopped #loving him at some point and it's not even the most important thing in the sentence. it's included as a qualifier because yuuta has accepte #so much of the bad things that happened to him when he shouldn't have whereas jack hasn't accepted ANYTHING that happened.#Yuuta uses a lot of very clean cut grammatically correct narration and jacks is riddled with a bunch of “ain't's” and grammatical errors.#he has an accent for lack of a better term. so you end up w/ two characters who convey information in different ways prioritize different #info in their sentences use different sentence structures etc. so megumi would have a /very different/ style and tone from yuutas that woul #sort of shape any fic that came through him because all of my fics are primarily shaped through the narrator's voice. it's also why I set #kind of hard lines about whether a fic can have any narrator or just specific narrators b/c it determines the whole tone.

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roipecheur · 2 years

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AU where the Jedi council discovers Anakin’s marriage early and kicks him out of the order and Padmé tolerates his reckless shenanigans for like 2-3 years max before filing for divorce because she is a member of the Senate in the middle of a galactic war and that is not compatible with a husband who keeps flying off to have adventures, covering their bedroom floor with the mechanical parts of whatever the hell he’s working on now, and trying to fistfight anyone he even thinks insulted her

And Anakin deals with this by going on a massive bender and sucking and fucking his way through the galaxy, but it’s far enough removed from everything important that no one thinks to check on him

Five or so years later, people at the Jedi temple start to notice the influx of very powerful Force-sensitive babies--like, the incidents of stuff in the nursery floating and randomly catching on fire have gone way up over the past few years, and someone probably would’ve caught on sooner if not for, y’know, the galactic war that is still going on with no end in sight--but huh, now that you mention it, yeah, there have been a lot more babies than usual, and do some of them look uncannily alike, despite coming from planets at nearly opposite ends of the galaxy? What’s up with that?

What’s up with that, someone discovers after running some tests, is that a solid few dozen of these kids have the same father

And they have his DNA on file, but at this point, they’re really only confirming what everyone already knows

Mace Windu, who thought he had finally gotten rid of Anakin Skywalker once and for all and is now staring down the barrel of thirty-seven Anakin Skywalkers and Force knows how many more are out there and didn’t make their way to the Temple! seriously considers taking up drinking

Obi-Wan, face-down on his bed and halfway through a bottle of Corellian rum, is way ahead of him

So, your mission, the Council tells a group of four sober, young Jedi who just graduated to Knighthood and were not particularly close with Anakin Skywalker, is to stop this absolute goddamn menace from sucking and fucking his way across the galaxy before we have to build a second nursery just to deal with his offspring

A week later, they all come back looking pink and sheepish. Yes, they found Anakin Skywalker. Yes, they asked him politely to use contraception. Yes, they asked him very nicely. He’s really very nice once you get to know him...

(At least the ones of them who can get pregnant are all on birth control.)

(Mace Windu asks Obi-Wan where he gets his rum)

Of course, they send Obi-Wan next. He spent ten years as the lone, stalwart figure keeping Skywalker nonsense at bay. Surely he can convince his former Padawan to tone it down. Surely, Obi-Wan thinks to himself as he white-knuckles his transport down to the planet’s surface, trying not to think about how much he hates flying.

He finds Anakin in what is politely called a parlor house but more accurately called a brothel with a Twi’lek woman on one arm and a Zabrak man on the other, singing something at the top of his lungs that makes Obi-Wan’s ears burn. When Anakin sees him, he abandons his song and his company both, runs over to Obi-Wan, and greets him by kissing him full on the mouth.

(That’s just how he does things now. He probably doesn’t mean anything by it.)

Anakin looks good. He looks happy, Obi-Wan supposes, unburdened in a way he never did at the Jedi temple, never did in all the time Obi-Wan knew him before. He isn’t sure how to feel about that. They drink what is some very excellent beer and talk for awhile, and Obi-Wan can’t quite broach the topic of why he’s here in the first place. He forgot how bright Anakin shone in the Force

When he returns to Coruscant, Mace Windu is waiting on the landing platform with baited breath to ask him how it went

Obi-Wan looks very pink and very sheepish. He mumbles something. Mace Windu lets out a string of curses that would put the meanest gangster of Coruscant’s underbelly to shame.

The next day, Mace Windu departs for Anakin’s last known location and drags Obi-Wan with him because he needs back-up and he’s certainly not going to let Skywalker corrupt anyone else. Obi-Wan makes sure to bring another bottle of Corellian rum

“I’m going to neuter that man,” Mace Windu says upon their return to the Temple. He’s lying in one of the ornamental koi ponds, robes billowing around him and head resting against the side, the fish nipping idly at the material. “I’d be doing everyone a favor.”

Obi-Wan hmms noncommittally, sitting cross-legged alongside the pool. “You’re just mad he got you to dance with him.”

Mace Windu covers his face with a lily pad

And Palpatine never gets to turn Anakin to the dark side because he’s too busy sucking and fucking

#shitpost central #obikin #anakin skywalker #anakin x everyone #Palpatine tries to get him to come back #'Anakin my boy I could get you a nice job working security pay is good and you'd be close to Senator Amidala'#Anakin who now texts like skweezy jibs: HEY PALPY MY MAIN MAN I'M KINDA IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING HERE WITH A COUPLE OF HONEYS HAHA #CATCH U ON THE FLIP SIDE #Palpatine eventually turns his attention to some of Anakin's children and hoo boy does the grooming look different from the outside!#and that's how Anakin kills Darth Sidious and saves the galaxy through the power of sucking and fucking #(Anakin is an excellent pilot and mechanic and fighter so he's fine for money I would think)#(yes the twins still exist they just have a small town's worth of half siblings)

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just-slightly-chayotic · 1 year

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Jeff being a meme. Again.

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obikinky · 2 years

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Be the fast & furious Obikin fic you want to see in the world

#CAN YOU EVEN IMAGINE?!#im literally gnawing through garbage okay this is so important to me #Anakin is THE BEST mechanic he works in a shop and is very blonde and cute and enthusiastic like brian #and everyone who’s anyone in racing comes to him for his ridiculous upgrades BUT he saves the best shit for himself and his own car #which frankly looks ridiculous with modifications but it’s Anakin so it probably fucking GLIDES #and then I’m always torn on Obi like I want him to be an undercover cop who gets in wayyyyy too deep #but also how great would he be as like a sexy swaggering rider whose like “the wheels don’t make the race the driver makes the race #and he’s super into technique and timing and he’s basically a fucking legend #oooo and GIRLLL we’ll just pop him on a bike halfway through for reasons and he’s so magnetic and Anakin is like WHAT THIS IS NOT ALLOWED #HE’S SO HOT AND HE’S ON A FUCKING CROTCH ROCKET UNFAIR FRANKLY #like he’s unfair Anakin that’s his whole thing #I’m just so insane about them and grease monkey Anakin in any universe is so gooood #I could talk about this for days #obikin #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #fast & furious

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toytulini · 2 years

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not me thinking about trying to shell out to convert my fiat to a Plug in hybrid? hmmmmm

#toy txt post #ive just started VERY GENTLY looking into this actually bc i uh. have acquired a second car. my grandpa's old car.#it is a tiny fuckin go cart geo from 1992 stick shift and im gonna try to learn stick shift on it but anyway i was like hmm perhaps....i #could learn on that car? what if i did a project? what if i ripped out that tiny little engine and made it into a hybrid or electric?#i found one little DIY blog of someone who converted a very similar car to electric and then back into a hybrid to increase range #so its maybe doable? altho that one was from like 2012 and the hybrid conversion involved?? a propane tank in the trunk?#which. feels not ideal. idk. but then also i found one that looks way more current and legit? they seem to focus on like. fleets of #commercial cars BUT they have a section for consumer cars? it seems to be some kind of kit that they ship out to a qualified mechanic.#which honestly if i can afford it i think i would prefer that bc idk shit about cars and im sure dad could try to teach me but hybrid might #be outside his wheelhouse...hes worried about the weight itll add but like idk? there already are electric fiats same age as mine so #clearly they figured it out for that and that was w the older tech from the 2010s?#but i have no idea what the price is for a professional conversion bc it requires getting an actual Quote from them #and i am not ready for that step yet!!!!! but like. god. next new car i buy i want to be a plug in hybrid i think #that seems like it would be a better choice for how i use a car than a fully ev unless i shell out for one of the real expensive bitches #full of soooo many ''luxury'' features that i will hate so much not to mention how many now standard modern features i despise...ugh #there was one i liked....toyota yaris plug in hybrid....it is....only available in europe and the uk :))) so id have to figure out #purchasing and importing a foreign car without even a test drive unless i want to get on an airplane (aka flying covid tube) and do that #and like i wouldnt mind visiting europe sometime and seeing all my internet friends over there but like i dont want to have to go over for #like. a car. u kno? plus every car that is not My Fiat is bad and wrong and makes me angry and stressed to drive so honestly #idk might as well accept my commitment to it as a future moneypit and make it more eco friendly and save on gas #tho im sure if im charging it at the house ill have to negotiate paying at least part of the electric bill or smth...id love to get some #kind of portable solar charger on it too so im not necessarily just relying on the fossil fuel electricity at my house either? idk. but #that seems hard to find at best and idk like id want to use it while my car is parked jn the parking lot but i suppose there'd be an #increased risk of it getting stolen depending on where i am? idk #part of me is like i should try to professionally convert my fiat to hybrid and then maybe do the geo just ev since im not gonna be takin #that thing long distances anyway? but idk. theres also that little nagging fear about like the fire risk cos i always hear about teslas #with the scary fire shit from that new battery tech and other evs are using that too now to get comparable ranges so like?? are they less #safe? should i be concerned about putting smth like that on an already less safe car from the 90s? or should i just be like well fuck it #this shit is a deathtrap anyway? and then have intrusive thoughts about car fires the entire time im trying to focus on learning stick?#also stick shift fucking stressful. why does it go backwards so fucking fast? what gives?

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inkoutsidethelines · 1 year

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Thinking about how I would write an adult Scooby-Doo series, because I think it can be done.

The first thing I’d do is make the characters actually be adults. Still young, but adults, in the mid to late 20s range. Mystery Inc. is a private detective type business that they run together. In this universe, the supernatural/ghosts/etc are real, but not necessarily common, so when they take on a case, the culprit might be a person disguised as a monster, or it might actually be a real ghost. The stakes can be higher; sometimes a bad guy is legitimately trying to kill them. Sometimes the mystery they’re trying to solve is a murder. Sometimes they actually get hurt on their cases.

Fred: the core of Fred’s character should be that he’s incredibly kind. Like, give a stranger the shirt off his back kind. The “Fred can’t talk to potential clients because he might take a case for free and we need to eat” kind. He’s an honest and good person and sometimes gets himself into trouble because he assumes other people are too. While he’s not very good at reading people or noticing ulterior motives, he’s brilliant when it comes to mechanical or engineering type stuff, so he’s the one who keeps the mystery machine running, builds their gadgets, and of course, designs the traps.

Daphne: she comes from old money, and her parents absolutely despise her life choices, to the point where they haven’t officially disowned her, but they have basically cut her off, so she doesn’t actually have access to any family money. Growing up wealthy has granted her a variety of skills, including speaking multiple languages, horseback riding, and fencing. She’s very into fashion and jewelry (even if she can’t afford it anymore) and has extensive knowledge of both that can occasionally provide a vital clue in a case. And even though her parents have cut her off, Daphne still has a wide network of contacts she can ask for favors sometimes, because she’s personable, and people tend to like her. Daphne is also very emotionally intelligent, and is usually the one who can spot when someone is lying to them.

Side note - I ship Fred and Daphne, so I think I would start them off as an established couple for this universe. Dating, engaged, married, I don’t care. They are stupidly in love, ride or die for each other. There’s no will they, won’t they, no worries about cheating. They are in a healthy, happy, loving relationship, and no one (not even Daphne’s disapproving parents) are going to mess that up for them.

Velma: she is the forensics nerd who sometimes gets super excited about the wrong thing at the wrong time (”He was mummified in seconds? That’s so cool!” “Velma! His wife is standing right there!” “Oh. Sorry.”). She’s not purposely insensitive, she just gets laser focused on her work and forgets to filter herself sometimes. She’s also the one who can get so fixated on solving whatever mystery they’re working on, she’s willing to bend or maybe break laws. Is breaking and entering really so bad? Not if it gets them answers.

Shaggy: he is still the comic relief, but he’s the comic relief by being the only person in the group that actually has common sense. He manages the business’s finances, he’s the only one who knows how to cook, and the others tease him for being a coward sometimes, but Shaggy maintains that if a ghost with an axe is coming for you, running is the only sensible option. He should also have a range of random knowledge that sounds useless, but sometimes saves the day (ex ventriloquism, origami, the history of spoons, etc).

Scooby: as this is a universe where supernatural creatures exist, Scooby is an ancient eldritch type being that took a shine to Shaggy when he was a kid, and took the form of a talking dog to befriend and hang out with him. Aside from the talking dog bit and not aging, he never uses his powers in a way that anyone notices. The audience is not told upfront that Scooby is an ancient eldritch being; it should slowly be hinted at throughout the series so the audience put it together, but the characters never realize it. Scooby genuinely considers Shaggy to be his best friend, and cares about the rest of the gang too.

#ink speaks #scooby doo #i like the vibes of a grown up scooby doo #where they're part of a mystery solving business #it needs to be a monster of the week type deal #so that it can play around with the character dynamics #because i think that's fun #long post

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