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#there's also a white handled version
autistickfigure · 1 year
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BLEH you found my secret in process. OH SHOOT i gotta say this is in a friendly way. and also its from a song (loot my body by man man)
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falled-over · 1 year
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i recently watched the madmen episode where timeline wise MLK was just assassinated and hey they didn’t handle it well
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radicheart · 1 year
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Someone: offers Cal a chocolate kiss Cal: "Thanks! :)" tucks it away and never eats it because he's allergic to sugar 
 Another Alastor: offers Cal a chocolate kiss Cal: "Thanks! :)" eats it on the spot despite his allergy
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you-are-constance · 2 years
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Hey! I remember you talking about writing a novelization of TCD a while ago and I was wondering if you were still working on that, because it sounded really cool and if you are still working on it I just wanted you to know that I am very much excited to read it when it’s done!
(If you aren’t working on it anymore ignore me lol)
oh yes i was working on that at the end of last year! i did actually finish it (i even have a printed & bound copy on my bookshelf) and I've been meaning to start posting it all year. I've been thinking about it a bit lately, like starting to post it next week when tcd is running off-broadway? really the only thing that's been keeping me from posting it all year is figuring out how to insert images into ao3, just since i want to include my art in the fic as well, not just on tumblr
so yes, it will start posting next week (fingers crossed 🤞)
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satorugu · 5 months
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In Every Era Part 2 (Sukuna x f!reader)
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She is the reincarnation of his love, and he plans to be with her in every era.
PART 1 HERE
Warnings: Blood, violence, fighting, angst, lots of fluff
Note: The readers technique relates to ice and being able to lower the temperatures around her enough to create it. If the text is italicized it is one of the dreams she had. All take place during the Heian era, both Heian era and the version of Sukuna in Itadori's body is included. Takes place during the Shibuya Incident, and quotes the episode's sub at times.
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The dreams hadn't stopped.
First, it was that night, the night she fell asleep in his arms.
Then she had another one following it.
Then a third.
It was always a memory from her point of view, so vivid she felt she could still feel his touch when she woke up. They were small, but they got her through the night, always sleeping straight through it.
That kiss was imbued with cursed energy. She didn't know how, but she knew that had something to do with it.
She couldn't take her mind off of it.
Every single night.
"Curses and mutations are mindless, you don't need to harness much cursed energy to exorcise them, although it is made out to be that way," Sukuna said. "If you make a hit on them before they can attack you, you have a better chance at survival."
She was sitting on his lap, up upon his throne. His body heat radiated onto her shoulders, his strong abdomen pressed against her back.
"Is there a reason you're sharing this with me?" (Y/N) asked curiously.
"So you will utilize this information when the time may come my dear," he told her. "Aim for the head."
"I don't think it will ever come," she laughed.
"You are correct to assume that," Sukuna said, putting a hand on her waist and pulling her closer to him. "I won't allow for anyone to harm you."
This was a trick.
The King of Curses wouldn't and couldn't possess emotions like these. He murdered hundreds of thousands, known to be the most powerful sorcerer in history. He needed something from her, to get her to trust him so he could use her and kill her afterward.
These memories were false, she was sure of it.
So she began avoiding Itadori, training after hours and for longer durations to be able to both strengthen herself and not be confronted by the eyes below his. In the end she would return to her dorm exhausted, forgetting that when she fell asleep she would be greeted by what she fled most.
Then a week had turned into a month.
"Master Sukuna had a gift delivered to your dressing room," the maid said almost timidly to (Y/N), as she bowed her head.
She made an emphasis on the fact it was in her dressing room rather than her bedroom. Being that her quarters were Sukuna's, the only part of the palace that was officially hers was her dressing room, which translated to a massive closet. It was filled to the brim with the nicest jewelry available in the lands, along with dresses he had especially picked out for her. It was also a known fact that the garden belonged to (Y/N), although it wasn't claimed by her. She fell in love with the area, so he made it off limits to others.
Unfortunately for her, he was away, handling a nearby village.
Two more servants gathered at the large double doors that led to the dressing room, opening them for her.
Inside was a large bouquet of flowers, white at the tips that slowly faded into a reddish-purple. It was as if they were glowing, vibrant and perky underneath the lighting. The vase was a piece within itself, like clear vines that curled around the stems of the flowers and bunched them all together.
Next to it sat a scroll, bound together by a cursed energy imbued seal. She was quick to unravel it, reading the hand-written, inked message.
'Although I am far away, I will remind you of my love.'
'These flowers are eternal, they will forever stay by your side, just as I will.'
'Sincerely, Ryo.'
She didn't think much of the dream, assuming it was some way of trying to make her think he actually loved her. Instead, she lingered around the campus after hours, honing a new ability with her ice technique. Once she grew sleepy, she returned to her dorm, entering the dark room to see something glowing on her desk.
It was a vibrant and perky flower, with white at the tips that slowly faded into a reddish-purple. While it didn't sit in a vase, it was unnaturally filled with life, acting as a light in pitch black atmosphere.
She thought she was hallucinating, reaching out a hand to pick it up, hoping it would dissolve as soon as she touched it.
The flower sat in her room for a week after that, as she continued to deny the significance behind it.
(Y/N) thought she could get out of having to see Itadori, but it seemed otherwise when another crisis hit.
A large curtain was cast around Shibuya, along with one at Meiji-Jingumae Station. Reports that mutated humans were attacking civillians inside were quick to spread, and both (Y/N) and Itadori were sent to handle it.
"I'll deal with the mutated ones, you search through the station for anymore hostages," she told him quickly, hoping they wouldn't have to interact much.
As soon as the two had met up inside the city, the eyes underneath his own appeared. They felt familiar now, a burning reminder of the dream she had the previous night.
They were in his bedroom, if it even could be called that.
It was larger than the average, with a desk that sat by an extravagant stained glass window, and a large table towards the center. The bed for the two of them sat against the wall, both of them already out of it, yet choosing to stay in one another's company.
Sukuna stood around the table, eyeing a set of scrolls as his wife sat at his desk. The chair was far too big for someone of her size, which he grew to love.
“I want to perform a binding vow between you and I,” he started.
“A binding vow?” (Y/N) asked, having yet to take her eyes off what she was reading.
“A pact bound through Jujutsu, except this one has specific terms accounted with it.”
As the words left his mouth he slipped his hand around her jaw, taking her by surprised as she looked up at him.
"I want to be with you in every era, as you pass, and once you are reincarnated. We will be bound together, it will be destined for you to wed me."
"And it's consequences?" she wondered.
"There are none, this vow is unable to be broken, it will see through that we are meant to be," Sukuna said. "And that you will remain mine."
She wasn't that knowledgeable on binding vows like the one he described, except for the fact it was supposed to leave a mark on your wrist. (Y/N) didn't have one though, so she assumed it was false.
A mutated curse barreled towards her, shards if ice being driven through it's skull as her pink haired friend ran down the hall. She flipped over it's corpse as it fell to the ground, attacking the others before they could make a move on her, and aiming for their heads.
The efficiency behind it was impressive, as she scolded herself internally for doing as the King of Curses had once advised.
And yet she continued for what felt like an hour, going through the motions up until the lights flickered off and she could hear fighting in the lower levels of the station.
Something was off.
(Y/N) jumped down the set of escalators and began running through the station that was almost unrecognizable. She could tell Itadori had fought here, as the remains of his strength imprinted different surfaces.
She was following her gut at that moment, turning down a set of halls until she saw a light bloom at the end of one. She could feel the heat as she got closer, as it formed an orange and yellow blur.
Screams came after the flames.
Two girls who had somehow survived being burnt alive, each coughing and holding onto one another.
As she turned the corner she saw him, Itadori, laying against the wall unconscious. He was littered in cuts, specifically his shoulder which was bleeding out. A special grade curse, Jogo, stood over him, a finger in his hand as he slipped it down the pink haired boy's throat and tilted his head back. She recognized him from the time he fought Gojo, as her eyes lingered over Itadori's figure.
(Y/N) could see the markings on his face.
She thought she might throw up.
"Don't waste my time," the special grade squinted is eyes at the three of them.
He went to lift up his arm and attack, only for it to begin bleeding out in front of him.
"I'll give you one second."
It felt like everything had frozen in place.
Silence in the dark hallway.
"Move."
The special grade fearfully jumped back, now a line of four.
(Y/N) felt her hands tremble, as sweat formed across her forehead and her heartbeat picked up in her ears. They were all that way, as the figure slowly stood up and brushed himself off.
Strength of a different kind than Satoru Gojo.
Overwhelmingly evil.
Fear that even the slightest move could lead to death.
He began to come towards them, as the wounds across his body healed themselves.
As his footsteps grew louder, she felt as if she might pass out.
Then they stopped, and he brushed his hair back in orderly fashion.
"You hold your heads quite high."
That voice.
It felt like there were invisible hands that wrapped around her back, guiding her down to a bowing position without control over her own body. She ended up in the same formation as the other two girls, as a wave brushed over top of the four that would have killed them.
"Did you believe taking one knee was enough?" Sukuna questioned.
The top of Jogo's head was cut off, considering he only kneeled. It was similar to a volcano, purple blood spewing out the top as he bled out.
"The greatest men bow the lowest, or so it goes. I see you value your heads quite lightly."
She could feel him looking down at her, as she stared at the cold floor and begged that whatever this was wasn't real.
She was terrified.
"You brats, I'll start with you," he said. "You wished to speak to me, yes?"
The girl nodded, tears staining the concrete surface below her.
"I'll grant you a fingers worth of audience. Now speak."
"Below us there's a man in monk's robes with a suture across his forehead," the dirty blonde began to say. "Please kill him, please free Geto-sama."
(Y/N) recognized that name, although she thought the man who had it was dead.
"We know the location of one more finger," the girl added. "If you'll kill that man for us, we'll tell you where it is."
"Raise your heads."
(Y/N) still kept hers down, although she could see the two girls raise theirs through her peripheral. It was a moment of relief, as he seemed to have agreed to their terms.
Red.
The head of the brown haired one next to her burst into nothingness, blood coating the other girls face as her corpse fell backward.
(Y/N) felt it splatter onto her uniform, shock pulsating through her veins as terror overrided her senses.
"MIMIKO!" the blonde screamed, shaking the lifeless body next to her.
"Did you think a measly one or two fingers would grant you the right to order me around?" Sukuna asked with amusement in his voice.
It seemed the girl couldn't care less, continuing to scream out her friends name.
"How offensive."
"SUKUNA!" she cried out in anger, slipping out her phone. "DIE!"
As soon as the words left her mouth, it sounded like a blade had cut through something. Similar to the one she heard months ago, when he had saved her.
Then, it sounded like several cuts going at someone at once.
One corpse turned into two, except the blonde had no remains. He killed the both of them without lifting a finger, a copious amount of blood being the only proof.
"You all are desperate," Sukuna turned to Jogo almost knowingly.
(Y/N) felt the invisible hands that once held onto her gently guide her to sit up again, looking at the King of Curses.
"This is the reward for the cursed fingers, come at her," he said, making eye contact with her. "If you manage to land even a single blow on her, I'll work under you all."
"What?" (Y/N) said under her breath, she felt like she couldn't breath.
Jogo slowly looked at her, as if he was making up his mind.
There was no way he was considering this.
"You're true to your word, yes?" he asked Sukuna.
No.
(Y/N) stepped back, like her legs were going to come out from under her at any second.
This was suicide, she couldn't fight him.
"Yes."
Jogos demeaner changed, as Sukuna's hands remained on his pockets and the curse went to face her. He held out his hand, a ball of fire forming within it, as (Y/N) tried to conjure ice in her own.
Again she was airborne.
Too quick for her to react as it all happened at once.
A familiar pair of arms held her bridal style, as she felt herself rest on his chest. It was cold, the fall wind curling around the two as they had fled the building.
He casually dodged them vast amount of fire-charged bullets being sent at him, as he looked down at her.
"Your avoidance has been quite amusing, I see you don't understand yet," Sukuna said, his tone changing into a softer one.
"What have you been doing to me?" she spoke boldly, like a wife would to her husband.
It made him smile, as he leaned on the edge of a building that Jogo shot more bullets at. Soon enough they were inside of it, Sukuna casually walking through a corridor as fire burned around them.
"That's my thank you for ensuring you sleep well?" he spoke teasingly. "I've been restoring your memories, although I knew you would doubt them to the best of your ability."
"They're not real," she mumbled, forgetting what he was capable of.
"And yet how relaxed you are in my hold says otherwise, little one," he said. "Your body reacts naturally to my touch."
(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply but the words never came out, as he jumped through the window of the building and met Jogo's fist. Sukuna was currently holding her securely with one arm, taking up the curse in hand to hand combat. He was quick, catching every single one of Jogo's attempts before holding onto his hand and slicing through his arms with his cleave technique.
The Special Grade was sent flying back, as he shot another beam of fire energy out of his head and (Y/N) watched it blow a whole through a building.
She had never seen a fight like this before.
Sukuna caught up with Jogo, taking his free hand that wasn't carrying her and wrapping it around his cape, throwing him down towards the streets. Smoke emitted from the area that he hit, as he continued to bounce off of it from the force before Sukuna came at him again. This time, he bashed his head into the ground, taking them below the level of the city floor.
She felt the King of Curses abdomen tighten against her side, as he laughed to himself. (Y/N) wasn't looking at him though, as her eyes were on the curse that hadn't landed even a single speck of dust on her.
His free hand slipped underneath her jaw, turning her head to face him.
"Impressed are we?"
Suddenly everything around the two seemed to burst into flames, as the blue skinned curse screamed out and flooded the street with Lava.
This was hell.
Sukuna didn't even react, as a wave of it blanketed over them, yet never touching their skin. He jumped up onto a building that was soon crumbling underneath the hot liquid as well, continuing to dodge without question.
The entire city was on fire, as hands made out of lava held onto two office buildings and lifted them up out of the ground. They surrounded the both of them, Jogo standing on a rooftop in front.
(Y/N) thought she was dead.
Out of pure instinct she took her arm around Sukuna's neck, burying her head into his chest and squinting her eyes closed.
It was only when she heard the sound of the buildings being bashed together, that she realized what she had done. Instead of feeling the impact of her skull being crushed, she felt a delicate kiss be pressed to the top of her head. A large hand then held her hair in a comforting manner, keeping her against him.
"Do you trust me, little one?" he asked her softly, low enough that Jogo couldn't hear.
"Yes."
(Y/N) felt weightless, like she was on one of those amusement park rides that threw you up into the air. Except for the fact that there was no harness, and nothing holding her anymore. Sukuna had thrown her up so far she felt she might touch the clouds, watching his figure dart towards the curse and throw him into a sky scraper.
She could see Jogo come out the other end of it, soaring through the air as Sukuna stood above him. The King of Curses drove his hand into the Special Grades head, sending the two through a roof of another office structure.
Meanwhile (Y/N) began to descend, screaming out and watching as the windows on each level shattered with each level Sukuna shoved him through. She grew anxious as time passed and nothing happened, until the bottom of the building burst out into flames and traveled upwards. She could make out the smaller details of the city now, as she picked up speed in falling and felt the wind course through her clothes. Her best bet was trying to use her ice to impact the fall, although she became distracted by what happened before her.
The building that Jogo had blown up began to form into a ball of fire, and Sukuna was nowhere to be seen.
Or so she thought.
She was trying to conjure up enough cold air around her to form the ice needed to brace her, but knocked into something else, throwing her off guard.
She wasn't surprised when she felt his heartbeat against her side again, but he moved at unregistrable speeds.
Suddenly they were on the ground, in the middle of the street, underneath the meteor Jogo was creating. All of the people around Sukuna froze in place, fear evident in their eyes.
Everyone knew who he was.
"I hereby forbid every person in a 100-meter radius from moving until I say 'now," he started. "And of course, I'll kill anyone who violates that rule."
The silence was horrifying, no one daring to take a step.
"Not yet," he teased.
(Y/N) could feel his hands underneath her weight doing something, as if he was now controlling the ball of fire above them.
"Still not yet."
The ground began to tremble, as it came closer.
"Now."
The sound was overwhelming, as Sukuna brought himself up above it as it crushed everything beneath. He sat down on the meteor, adjusting (Y/N) so she was sitting in his lap, his hands around her waist. Jogo was in front of the two, having yet to turn his back around.
The atmosphere around them was a swirl of orange smoke and broken glass that looked like stars. It floated gently in the air, as more debris from the architecture around them crumbled.
"I've grown tired of this, so I will fight you with your own specialty," he said, allowing for (Y/N) to get up as he stood and faced the Special Grade.
She stepped back, quick to cool the temperatures underneath her feet so she wouldn't burn.
Fire began to emit from his fist, beginning to curl around his figure.
"Arm yourself."
Jogo formed a small sphere of fire in his hand, as Sukuna stretched his own out to form an arrow.
The Special Grade burnt to ashes within a moments notice, while the King of Curses turned around to face the woman behind him.
"Your denial is in vain," he said. "There is nothing I am not capable of, and your death would have already occurred if i wished for it. In your moments of fear you trusted me by instinct, the vow formed between us guiding you to me."
"I don't understand."
"Because you don't want to," he corrected, coming closer to her. "Allow me to show you."
The king lifted her jaw up, taking his hand around the side of her face and kissing her lips.
It felt unworldly, as she slowly returned it and could feel him smiling. Her wrist suddenly tingled, making her to break away to see what caused the sensation.
It was a mark on her wrist, the same one that was on Sukuna's forehead.
"I will love you in every era," he said, taking a step back.
The markings on his face faded, his hair returning to hanging down.
"What happened?" Itadori asked.
She looked into the eyes underneath the original pair, not knowing what to say.
But she understood now.
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A/N: I have a part 3 in mind. If you're interested let me know!
Tag List: @daydreamshenanigans @witchmoon10 @@spiderlilytengu @sircatchungus @sunshine7queen @yandere-consumer @emryb @96jnie @frogzxch @toshirolovebot @rottinginvelvet @rorel1a @cax-per @butteredwalnut @sweetcoorpse @mynewblackdress @serafina-nyx @karmazwrld @gambighoul @honestlysublimecherryblossom @sy557 @mag-chan
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songoftrillium · 8 months
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Werewolf: the Apocalypse 5th Edition and the Anti-Indigeneity in the Gaming Industry
reosted with permission from J.F. Sambrano
Dagot’ee!
Shii J.F. Sambrano gonsēē. My nations are Chiricahua Apache (Ndeh) through my maternal grandmother and Cora Indian (Náayarite) through my maternal grandfather.  I am a mixed race Indigenous person, and through my father my heritage is English and Scottish. I am currently residing and doing work in my community on the lands of Lummi Nation. I use both gender non-binary and masculine pronouns, but prefer the former. I have several published works in the TTRPG industry, and am probably most known for my contributions to Mage: the Ascension 20th Edition, Werewolf: the Apocalypse 20th Edition, and the Transformers Roleplaying Game, as well as being part of the Essence 20 development team. Further, I also work in higher education at an Indian college, both advising and teaching Indigenous students across the United States. My passion is education, and I believe that we all learn through play, and that TTRPGs are a valuable source of learning, especially on personal, cultural, and social levels. This has always been what has drawn me to TTRPGs since I started playing M.E.R.P. with my brother in 1996 (and before that HeroQuest), through to my “graduation” into more story-driven games such as those presented in the Storyteller System, until now, where I author and produce my own roleplaying games.
I was also part of the First Team (in-joke intentional) hired by White Wolf Studios/Paradox Interactive via Hunters Entertainment to develop and author Werewolf: the Apocalypse 5th Edition. After several months of work, Paradox Interactive chose to go in another direction in early 2021 (I believe it was either March or April) and in fall of that year, it was announced that Werewolf would instead be taken in house, with Justin Achilli as the Brand Creative Lead and primary author of the book. Going forward I will be describing my experience while I worked with Paradox Interactive, primarily through Karim Muammar, White Wolf’s Brand Editor, as well as the developmental editor for Werewolf. Although I worked in a team, both with hired authors and in-house representatives at Hunters Entertainment, I will not be speaking for the experience of others, except when specifically noting unanimous consensuses, and specific interactions (which will go unnamed) that are particularly relevant. My hope is that by highlighting some of the anti-Indigenous attitudes that are central to the foundational members and leaders of the White Wolf brand, that I can provide opportunities for growth and healing within the World of Darkness TTRPG community, but also in the broader gaming community, where these behaviors and attitudes are rampant. I also want the community to have a better understanding of what this experience is like internally, and the challenges that Indigenous creators, as well as other marginalized creators, are met with when they try to make positive change within nerd and geek communities clinging to inherited white supremacist values, even if they don’t realize they are doing so.
What I do not want to be doing in this article is creating fuel for edition wars.  I believe that both legacy and Werewolf 5th are rife with anti-Indigenous attitudes, and appalling amounts of appropriation. Both versions deserve criticism, I am not defending one over the other, I am only sharing what my experience was like working on the 5th edition of the book. Further, please understand that I was originally going to wait until I had read the final copy of the book, because I wanted to know how much of my work was used (based on previews I already know some was, just not the extent) and whether or not they decided to credit me for that work, and how I was going to be credited.  My belief is that I likely will not be, but I am genuinely uncertain.  Knowing how they handled that would have reframed how I addressed this. But more importantly, I want it to be very clear that even before Paradox ultimately pulled the plug on the Hunters team, I was preparing to exit working on the project based on the experience I will describe below. Not only did I find it frustrating, and personally disparaging, but I ultimately decided I was uncomfortable with my name being attached to the product based on the direction they wanted to go. So while I wanted to know whether or not I would be credited, because it would teach me something about their internal practices, I do not want or need the credit.
Finally, the reason that I decided to speak about this now instead of after having a chance to inspect the final product, was because my personal experience dealing with anti-Indigeneity coming from Paradox was just that: personal.  But since then I have witnessed a throughline of hateful and xenophobic attitudes wielded against Indigenous people across the globe, and we do not deserve this treatment.  I was outraged over the events that led to the segregation of the Latin American fanbase, which culminated from bottom-up criticism about how poorly their people and countries were being defined through World of Darkness products, and ended up with the firing of their Latin American Brand Ambassador, Alessa Torres, because she chose to stand with her community in those criticisms.  I was further appalled when the likeness of Tāme Wairere Iti was shoehorned into the Werewolf book, a blatant example of cultural theft: not only in stealing the literal physical identity of an Indigenous person, but also his sacred tā moko.  When Paradox Interactive issued an apology for this, it felt incredibly hollow to me in the wake of these events, the hateful attitudes I had personally witnessed coming from the top.
Whether from North America, Mexico, Brazil, Argentina, or Peru, or across the globe in New Zealand, not only do Indigenous people deserve better treatment from such a major company, but their Indigenous and Latino fanbases, who have twisted and worked themselves through difficult representation for decades at this point, deserve better.  Apologies are not enough, especially when they come with next to no real change.
Werewolf: the Apocalypse in Context
At the time that White Wolf Publishing began to produce its World of Darkness line, the TTRPG industry was dominated by white men, both as producers, developers, and authors, as well as the main characters in their settings. White Wolf's World of Darkness made an impact at the time, by defying these Eurocentric, patriarchal presentations, first by defaulting to feminine pronouns throughout Vampire: the Masquerade, and then by focusing on Indigenous representation and values in Werewolf: the Apocalypse, and as a young Indigenous nerd, it had a positive impact on me, as I know it has on some other Indigenous people who became fans of the World of Darkness at the time. This was because before opening the pages of Werewolf: the Apocalypse, I had never seen heroes that I could play who looked like me and my culture. It was off, and often offensive, but it was my first experience in which I could directly play a hero who shared my heritage--and I also had more than one option through two different Tribes to do so. This might sound a little like I was cheering for table scraps, but again, at the time, table scraps was more than I had ever seen before.
Werewolf: the Apocalypse 1st Edition was originally published in 1992 via then White Wolf Publishing (not to be confused with Paradox Interactive's White Wolf). From its inception, the premise was interwoven with what its then-authors believed to be Indigenous praxis and representation.  Like many pop-culture presentations of Indigeneity from this time period (see Fern Gully, Dances With Wolves, Disney’s Pocahontas, or in TTRPGs, the NAN from Shadowrun) it was rife with problematic and even offensive stereotyping. The most obvious examples thereof are within the two "Pure Tribes" Uktena, and W****** who I will henceforth refer to as Older and Younger Brother. However, Indigenous inspiration was at the core of the game's spiritual premise as well, where animism and "Totems" are central to the setting and gameplay. The way these concepts are presented is trivializing and dehumanizing, but it is important to acknowledge that the appropriation present in Werewolf: the Apocalypse goes a lot deeper than the two Brother Tribes (even the term "Tribe" was meant to invoke a vision of Indigeneity compared to the previous setting in the line's use of "Clan"). Additionally, there is art throughout every generation of these gaming books that represents humans, wolves, and human-wolf hybrid forms wearing Indigenous regalia, including sacred items such as headdresses, or engaged in sacred rituals such as the Sun Dance. The list of problematic representations goes deep, and my examples only scratch the surface, but it is also important for me to note the positive impact that this had, particularly in the 90's.
Even though the primary contributors to these narratives were non-Indigenous authors, or in one case, a Pretendian, and another, a culturally disconnected author, by the time the Revised (or Third Edition) era of the books came around, White Wolf Publishing was actively engaged in cultural consultation.  While I do not believe cultural consultation makes a big difference on its own, it matters that the attempt was made, to a degree: while these efforts fall short of what needs to be seen in cultural representation, this was still ahead of most other gaming companies at this time.
Hired by Hunters Entertainment
In February of 2020 I was approached by one of the co-owners of Hunters Entertainment to be one of the primary authors for Werewolf: 5th Edition due to my work on other World of Darkness projects, and let's be honest, because I was capable of bringing a much needed Indigenous perspective to a gameline that was rooted in Indigeneity and rotting with appropriation and racist stereotypes. I was overall receptive to the invitation, largely because I was very passionate about the World of Darkness setting overall, and Werewolf in particular, due to the impact that 90's representation had on me when I was a younger gamer. I also felt hopeful that with a really hard rewrite of Indigenous aspects of the game that I could shift a lot of really painful aspects of the game into something that was a net positive for Indigenous representation. I will tell you now, more than anything, I was excited to rewrite the Younger Brother Tribe, because when separated from racist authors, their message is very empowering and real to my lived experience.
That said, I did not agree to join the project without first asking for reassurances. I said that I was not willing to write negative Native stereotypes. I would not use appropriative language, or generally engage in appropriative writing (which meant at minimum that the names of the Pure Tribes would need to change), and most importantly, that I would not not engage in writing that contributed to erasure. While the person who recruited me to work on the project was eager to work with me, he acknowledged that he was not sure he could get everything I wanted to see approved, but also promised to fight for everything I suggested as hard as he could. Additionally, he shared with me that the original setting pitch for W5 involved all of Younger Brother being slaughtered en masse in a massacre. I made it clear that this was exactly the kind of thing that I would not write.  I cannot remember if this was something he suggested to be changed before or after I was invited onto the project, but with some pushback it was changed.  However, I point this out because I want you, the reader, to understand how eager Paradox Interactive was to start with mass genocide and erasure as a foundation to the setting.  All that said, I cannot stress enough that I have had nothing but positive experiences with Hunters Entertainment, and none of the following concerns fall upon them.
The Sword of Heimdall
The first encounter the Hunters Entertainment team as a whole had with problematic guidelines for the W5 draft was the direction that Paradox Interactive wanted to go with the Sword of Heimdall. At the time, the suggestions from Paradox and Karim Muammar were that the Sword of Heimdall was going to represent the new major villain of the Werewolf setting, and that they were to also represent the far-right, fascist direction that Werewolf society so often turned toward. They were meant to be representative of how far the new concept of Hauglosk could take entire communities. However, the Sword of Heimdall was discussed interchangeably with the Get of Fenris as a whole, and more than once Muammar seemed to suggest that every member of this Tribe was guilty of the same attitudes espoused in previous editions from the Sword of Heimdall. Now let's not beat around the bush: the Sword of Heimdall are literal Nazis. They believe directly in white supremacy and don't shy from it. They wanted to cleanse impure elements from the Get of Fenris, including BIPOC people, other non-white ethnicities, women, neurodivergent Garou, and other disabled Garou.
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The writing team found this approach problematic for several reasons. The first, and most obvious, was that the direction seemed to want to turn one of the most popular Tribes into a horrific stereotype of its most abhorrent faction. Whether or not Muammar’s goal was to turn them into villains, we could not imagine a world where fans of previous editions would get their hands on this book, and not look for a way to play one of their previous favorite groups, thus creating the issue of making a guide to playing Nazi. Even beyond that, it’s not as if historically there were not players who used the tools of the setting to play Black Spiral Dancers, why wouldn’t this draw people who actually wanted to role-play through these toxic, harmful politics? Further, and while this is less important, it left a bad taste in my mouth, the justification for this major shift in Werewolf lore seemed to change over each pass. At first, Muammar suggested that all Fenrir were Nazis/SoH.  Then, when he was provided with evidence that it was a small faction that was eliminated in the early 2000’s, he started to shift toward the idea that we should not follow the lore. Finally, when every single member of the writer’s team flatly refused to provide what would essentially be “a player’s guide to being a Nazi werewolf” the writing was on the wall about the end of our involvement with this product. More than once, he suggested that we were cowardly social justice warriors for being unwilling to work with this concept, even though there were several attempts to write a heroic version of the Fenrir that were focused on undoing these ills of the past.
Indigenous Erasure in Werewolf: 5th Edition
While the entire Hunters Entertainment writing team was handling the major, glaring issue of Paradox’s fervor to include a major Nazi element in Werewolf, I was personally dealing with the problematic approach to the Indigenous issues in the setting. The largest problem, for me, was in addressing Younger Brother’s issues, the history of non-Indigenous writers creating horrifically racist stereotypes, and what was valuable in the Tribal identity that should be saved and recentered. However, my attempts to do so were thwarted with every approach. I rewrote this Tribe four times, and offered three different versions of it to try to earn approval for a final write-up, but each time there was a lot of negativity directed towards my attempts and all them boiled down to this: Muammar felt that having two Tribes (both Younger and Older Brother) representing the “Indigenous population” was too many, and wanted them to only be focused on Older Brother, and that Younger Brother’s connection to a central, Indigenous identity, was undesirable because “other sources wrote them as having Siberian and European connections” and that future writing on this Tribe would require a lot of sensitivity…suggesting that one, Muammar wasn’t interested in doing the work to handle that level of sensitivity, and further, that he wasn’t interested in including me in future work, since I was involved with doing that at the time.
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I want to take a moment to remind you that the work that was put into recovering Younger Brother started with “Let’s Kill Them Off” and at this point, through a combination of convincing and pleading, had been walked back to “They can live, but now they’re not connected to being Indigenous anymore” which is just representative genocide of a different variety. “Kill the Indian in him, and save the man.” It was also explicitly something I said I would not write about going into this project. Ultimately, my efforts did not get much further than this, with some specific exceptions I will cite below.
Karim Muammar’s Anti-Indigenous Positions
Muammar consistently and repeatedly communicated to the team in ways that were condescending and dismissive of our collective accomplishments and capabilities, but from my perspective, no one suffered as much significant derision as I did while discussing the changes I wanted to make to Younger and Older Brother in order to make their representation empowering and exciting.
In the pulled quote from the previous paragraph, I want to point out to you that Muammar, who had the title of Lead Editor on this project, refused to capitalize Native American. Further, he would often redline my work with edits to decapitalize my own uses of Native American, as well as the word Indigenous when referring to Indigenous peoples. While there are plenty of people who might want to argue about this, I will point out that both the AP style guide as well as the Chicago style guide (the one which I am most familiar with in my academic historical work) both call for Indigenous to be capitalized when referring to a people. Further, I challenge anyone to defend the consistent decapitalization of Native American. More importantly, the reason that these are standards in respected style guides, is because the English language has been used historically to oppress and erase ethnic identities, including Indigenous identities. By transforming adjectives into proper nouns, we are declaring that Indigenous and Native aren’t descriptors that can be applied to animals, plants, and soil, but real lived identities and culture groups.
When I was explaining to the Paradox team (which was mostly just Muammar) why it was important to change the names of these two Tribes from the appropriative (and offensive) ones used in the past, Muammar pushed back by defending the previously used Younger Brother name, even after reading my extensive research and explanation about how this would harm Indigenous communities and fans.
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While doing so, he also decided that it was appropriate to refer to this entirely Native American tribe by the word “savages” a slur that has been specifically used to dehumanize Native Americans, and then mocked my rewrite that focused on presenting them as stewards of the land using Indigenous methodologies and praxes, instead of the “savage” racist stereotypes they were presented as in previous editions. Further, as in the above quote, even after it was communicated that the use of this term was problematic, he kept doubling-down to use it to refer to the Tribe.
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Even though I worked hard to redefine Younger Brother through Indigenous theory, such as place-based theory, relational theory, and communal theory, Muammar either refused to recognize this work, dismissing it as simple, or else simply could not understand the importance of these changes. Either way, the choice is that he didn’t want them to change, or couldn’t comprehend why the change was important because of how entrenched in white supremacist thinking he is. Further, after the massive effort that I put forward to attempt to educate him and the rest of the Paradox team on these issues, the insistence on using offensive terms and belittling my work felt intentional. So let’s talk about the work I did that was above and beyond my job description: free cultural consulting work.
“Sensitivity” and Consultation
I have seen several misunderstandings of my role working on this project going around, so I want to make something very clear. I was hired to work on this project as an author, and nothing else. I was not ever hired to be a cultural consultant. I do not do cultural consulting work. While I feel that there are many creators and companies who hire cultural consultants with the best intentions in mind, their responses often fall short of what is needed, as no one is ever obligated to actually follow the advice of cultural consultants. Further, I think there are also many companies who choose to hire cultural consultants only to say “we did this minimal step, and that is enough” in order to ward off naysayers.
However, anyone who hires me gets some level of cultural consulting for free, because it comes out in my writing–in both what I won’t write and what I choose to center my writing around. In the case of Werewolf 5th Edition, however, it was far more involved than this. I came with a plethora of “I will not write X” because I knew the setting was so problematic.  A short list of my demands besides not being willing to write Indigenous erasure, was that we needed to change the names of the Pure Tribes (and the term Pure Tribe itself), we needed to change the word Totem to Patron, and also the Patrons of the Pure Tribes. We needed to move away from the term Metis for obvious reasons, and we needed to move away from the term Skin Dancers. I also specifically noted that there was a lot of cultural theft happening from the beginning of Werewolf until now that I wanted to address. The only way these issues were going to be addressed was to convince Paradox they were actual issues on the level of PR concerns, because nothing else was likely going to be considered. So in order to achieve this, I put in weeks worth of research, writing, and meetings with top level administrators with Hunters Entertainment so that they could bring this information to Paradox.  I never documented my hours, but I would guess that I did approximately 80-100 hours of what I could only describe as cultural consultation work for free that was outside the contract work I was hired for. Let’s be clear: I did this willingly because I was passionate about the positive changes I wanted to see in this product, because I believed that Werewolf’s historic ills could be turned toward non-toxic representation.
Besides my actual words, such as naming the Ghost Council, and arguably the name Gale Stalkers came from a combination of names I pitched to Paradox after Winter’s Teeth was denied, and several sentences and paragraphs that I have seen so far that appear so close to what I originally wrote that you could imagine they were just edited versions, my largest contribution toward the final version of Werewolf: 5th Edition was this work. The only reason the offensive, appropriated names were changed were because of hours of my work to convince them it needed to happen. The reason that the Gale Stalkers aren’t just dead and gone: again, I pushed against this. The reason that Skin Dancers, Totem, and Metis will not appear as canonical titles? I pushed against their unwillingness to alter these things (see Karim’s defense of Wen**** Tribe name above).
Further, and this is the biggest reason I decided to write this article before seeing the final version of the book, I want to mention that I was also included in discussions with Hunters Entertainment to potentially be part of the art direction team, especially to oversee depictions of Indigenous characters, regalia, and art, to ensure that it would be represented either respectfully or not at all. I decided I needed to speak as soon as possible after the artistic portrayal of Tāme Iti appeared in the Glass Walkers preview without his permission. There are many arguments surrounding this issue and I am not going to address everything, but ultimately, I can tell you that had I remained as part of the art direction team, and saw that, I would have questioned it immediately. Even if I didn’t recognize Tāme Iti immediately, I would have asked what the source was on the depiction of moko in that piece, because I am aware that this is a sacred form of art–and I had already discussed wanting to make sure things like Crinos in headdresses didn’t appear in the book (as had often happened in previous editions, particularly on a certain white-skinned character whose name rhymes with Steals-the-Past).
As time working on this project went on, and I went through rounds and rounds of trying to convince Muammar and Paradox that it was important to not steal Indigenous identities, art, and stories, and that a greater effort needed to be put in powerful and empowering Indigenous representation, and I constantly ran into refusals and criticisms that were clearly hateful toward Indigenous identities and peoples, not to mention the push to represent Nazism as a major part of the game setting, I grew increasingly frustrated and restless with feeling like I was trying to work on a challenging project while also defending my right to exist as the person I am at every turn. Eventually I turned to another Indigenous TTRPG and game creator to ask for advice, and after a long and difficult discussion, I came to the conclusion that I was going to talk to the Hunters administration team and tell them that if Muammar kept using slurs and other anti-Indigenous language and attitudes, I was going to need to step off of this project, because it was harmful to me on a personal level. In furtherance of this point, I have been avoiding doing any contract work at all where I can tell that I am wanted for my specific cultural perspective ever since, because this situation was so harrowing for me.
Unfortunately, before I could have this conversation, after one final draft of Younger Brother and Bone Gnawers (which had its own issues, but that is not the point of this discussion), before we received any other specific feedback, the Hunters Entertainment administrators announced to the writing team that Paradox had decided to take the book in-house, and would no longer need our services.
The main point I would like to leave you with, besides these few specific quotes (out of dozens and dozens) that Muammar made that were anti-Indigenous, is that there is often a big call to have more BIPOC voices in various entertainment industries, so that both our stories, perspectives, and unique views on how the universe and life works, can be included; so that an industry that is historically, harmfully Eurocentric, might turn toward new, healthier, and inclusive directions. And I agree with this call for change, but I implore you to consider the conditions that BIPOC creators often have to work under: doing cultural/identity work and consultation for free as part of being present, being subject to vicious refusals of our experiences and perspectives, and straight-up having slurs lodged against our work. I want to see these changes in the industries we love, including the gaming industry, but currently the people who are in charge, who have the most power, are severely hostile to our work and our perspectives. This is why, for example, works like Coyote & Crow were done with an almost entirely Indigenous group of creators, and led by Indigenous creators, because trying to work for and with this ugly, hateful, and xenophobic group of people is so often exhausting, both mentally and spiritually, and because no good changes end up being made.
I am glad the harmful, appropriative terms were removed from the setting. I am glad I was part of the fight to make that real. I am not so glad that I was treated with hostility and racism by Muammar for the effort and love I put into this work, and I am not so glad that I will certainly be reviled by one of the two communities I did this work for–the gaming community, and certainly the people in power in this industry–and I am also not so glad that I didn’t have the opportunity to properly acknowledge how much of Werewolf’s base themes and setting are twisted and tied-up in Indigenous appropriation without giving the proper acknowledgments.
More than anything, I hope that this story will help you, the fans, realize that there is a lot of darkness in these communities, and they won’t change unless you hold their feet to the fire.
Ánaagodzįįhł
J.F. Sambrano
2K notes · View notes
shlonguru · 1 month
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Lucifer x Fem!Reader - White Party in the Lust Ring
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Pairing : Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader (Alastor's sister)
Summary : Being Alastor's little sister can have its perks, but if you're fighting with him it can push you close to certain unexpected people.
Warning : 18+, Smut, oral, creampie, teasing, overstimulation, cunnilingus, daddy issues, daddy kink (shocker), edging, praise kink.
Word count : 5029 words (oml it keeps getting worse)
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My hyperfixation on Lucifer is far from over (help) but I have received some requests that all contributed to this smut so I'm sorry that I couldn't reply to one specific request but I would like to thank you all. I hope you all enjoy~ Once again I want to thank @wipmoop for their amazing artwork for the cover! If you wanna check out the uncensored version of the cover, it'll be up on their page soon, they're genuinely awesome, check them out with love ♥ Shlonguru out! o/
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~ At the Hazbin Hotel ~
Life was hard being Alastor’s little sister. He might have been very good at protecting you but he made sure your freedom was limited in return. In fact, you weren’t even sure if he protected you because he cared about you or because he was territorial. And he was hard to bargain with. You were living with him amongst others at the Hazbin Hotel and were more than bored during your days until you were offered a job working as Lucifer’s assistant. The only reason Alastor didn’t make a fuss about you working there, despite him absolutely hating Lucifer’s guts, was because Lucifer was powerful enough to make sure you were safe at all times.
This morning, you had just been in a fight. Some of your friends had invited you to a fun night out and Alastor had noticed you packing more than usual on your way to Lucifer’s. He had noticed as he walked by your room.
“Aren’t you packing a little heavy today?” He inquired.
You rolled your eyes already knowing what was coming.
“Yeah, my friends are going out in the Lust Ring tonight, so I packed another outfit and other stuff so I can change before I join them.” You replied.
“The Lust Ring? I don’t think so, dear. Do you want to end up like Angel Dust, with an Overlord owning your soul?” He calmly replied.
“Yeah, you’re right! Which is why I have the perfect solution for that, how about I don’t sell my soul to anyone? That should do it I think.” You stated snarkily, zipping up your bag.
“I’ve already explained to you that it isn’t that simple and that you have more value to the eyes of most people in hell than you seem to realize.” He countered, slightly losing his cool.
“Listen, I’m a fully grown adult, I know how to take care of myself.” You calmly tried to explain.
“You might be a grown adult, but you are not nearly as strong as you would need to be to take care of yourself.” He raised an eyebrow, knowing he had made a good point.
“Huh… So, what do you want me to do exactly? Rot here for the rest of eternity? No, I’m going out.” You started making your way out of the hotel when he snapped his fingers, making your bag teleport next to him.
You angrily walked back and grabbed it again.
“Stop that, will you? I said I’m going out!” You walked away only for him to snap his fingers again, repeating the same process.
You turned around red of anger. “You’re gonna make me late to work!” You shouted.
“You’re lucky I let you work for this minikin at all.” He replied defiantly.
“Fuck you!” You yelled, flipping him the finger and leaving, slamming the hotel’s door behind you and choosing to abandon your bag.
~ At Lucifer’s Tower ~
You got along with your boss really well, you both were very cheerful beings and your personalities just clicked, he had offered you the job of assistant because he was “having a hard time handling all of his important business”. You knew by now that he was actually just working on his ducks so much that he was never able to handle the rest of his business on time. He had also offered you the job when he saw how bored you were at the hotel, that and your common trait of fighting with Alastor almost every time you were in the same room. You enjoyed working for him and he was very grateful to have you.
You arrived at Lucifer’s tower a little late, but it wasn’t unusual for you. Lucifer was busy designing a new duck in his office when he heard you arrive and came to greet you.
“Hello y/n!” How are we doing in this fine morning?” He smiled, always happy to see you.
“Hello Sir, I’m ok.” You replied in an irritated tone, the difference with your usual cheerful self, alarming Lucifer.
“What’s up? You seem like, super down.” He questioned.
“Yeah, I got into a fight with Al.” You replied coldly, removing your coat and hanging it.
“Oh, that bastard, it’s like he can’t start his day if he hasn’t ruined someone else’s.” He rolled his eyes at the mention of Alastor.
“Right? That asshole...” You let out.
“What did he do this time?” He crossed his arms, resting his shoulder against the wall near you.
“My friends are going out tonight in the Lust Ring and they invited me, but he won’t let me go cause he’s afraid I’m gonna end up in danger. Fuck, I can’t do anything. Hell is literally filled with bad people, I can’t just stay locked up forever.” You whined.
“Wait, you frequent the Lust Ring?” He asked curiously. You looked at him and noticed a hint of red on his face.
“I would like to! But he won’t let me!” You moaned. “Why? Is that surprising?” You added.
“No…” He looked away, clearly embarrassed. “I guess I had never seen you under that light before.” He smiled. “But you are a bad bitch, so it’s not too surprising.” He finished.
Lucifer paused, looking away, kind of hesitant.
“What if I accompanied you? That way, he couldn’t say he’s afraid you’d end up in danger, you’d be with the strongest being of Hell~” He offered in a self-assured tone.   
“Really? You’d do that?” Your eyes sparkled at the offer.
“Sure! it’s been a while since I came by and said hi to Ozzie anyways.” He chuckled.
You paused for a second and remembered you had left without your bag.
“I left all of my clothes and stuff at the hotel though.” You sighed.
“I’ll get someone to go get your stuff for you, how does that sound?” He smiled.
“You’re the best!” You cheered excitedly hugging him. He smiled and hugged you back.
“Is there a theme to this party?” He asked.
“It’s a white party.” You smiled.
“Not very surprising of the Lust Ring if you ask me.” He stated.
You nodded and proceeded with your day, your mood back its usual merry self.
By the end of the day, you had gotten your bag back and had gotten ready at Lucifer’s place.
He was waiting in his living room for you to finish getting ready in the guest room. The blonde demon was wearing an all-white suit made perfectly for him.
He saw you come out of the room and looked like he had stopped breathing.
You were wearing a white dress that was perfectly balanced between cute and sexy, the contrast with your crimson mane was sumptuous. You had done your make-up for the party, a black smokey, making your usually ethereal ruby eyes look fierce.
“You like it?” You smiled, showing off your outfit.
“Oh damn…” He wiped his forehead, looking warm as he ventilated himself with his hand as he stood up. “You’re hot!” He blurted, catching himself and putting his hand over his mouth. “I mean, not that you usually aren’t, trust me I love your work outfits, you look very preppy it’s great, but you look, I mean, sexy!” He looked embarrassed at how surprised he was.
“Thank you?” You questioned. “Indeed, I wouldn’t wear that to work.” You chuckled. “It wouldn’t be very convenient don’t you think?” You teased, walking up to him. You were close in height, but you still won by a few inches.
“Right! Oh lord land me strength…” He muttered to himself.
“What was that?” You asked.
“Nothing! Let’s go!” He handed you his arm and you left together for the party.
~ At the White Party ~
You arrived at the party, it was huge, everything was screaming lust, and the whole venue was gorgeous. As you walked in, Lucifer spotted Asmodeus, with whom he had fun reconnecting with Asmodeus and even introduced the two of you.
“And this is y/n!” He introduced you after chatting for a while.
“Oh, is this your girl?” Ozzie asked boldly.
You unintentionally blushed and smiled to hide it.
“No…” He replied much more flushed than you. “She’s my assistant.” He added.
“You mean your assistant in bed, right? Cause you two got that chemistry if you know what I mean, it’s like, hard not to notice.” Ozzie continued, noticing how awkward you had both become, making him smirk.
“Stop it Ozzie! I told you it’s not like that.” Added Lucifer seriously before turning to you awkwardly. “Sorry about that y/n.”
“Yeah okay, Luci, then welcome to the Lust Ring to you and your totally-just-platonic-friend then.” He smiled mischievously before leading you to your VIP zone with your group of friends.
You and your friends enjoyed the party, and so did Lucifer. You danced with him, drank with him, in fact, you were all feeling tipsy and at this point acted much more casual with him than you thought possible, though he still made sure you didn’t go overboard. In fact, he had had way more than you but looked completely unaffected, however. You had noticed you two were getting closer and closer as the night went on. You enjoyed grinding against him and he enjoyed it just as much, as well as showing off his own dance moves. And after a few hours, you both sat down at your booth.
“Wow Luci! Thank you so much for tonight you sure know how to party!” You thanked him.
“Thanks! It’s been a while, but it seems like you don’t forget good habits.” He smiled.
“I can’t believe my dickhead of a brother would keep me from experiencing all of this.”
“I mean he sure is a dickhead, don’t get me wrong, but I think it’s fair that he doesn’t want anything bad happening to you.” He replied calmly.
“Well, I guess it depends on what you consider a bad thing?” You smiled teasingly at him.
“What do you mean?” He asked tilting his head slightly.
“Let’s just say I’m sure there are things he wouldn’t want happening to me that I wouldn’t consider bad in the slightest.” You looked at Lucifer intently getting a little closer.
“Oh yeah?” He said a smile forming in the corner of his mouth. “Such as what?” He leaned towards you slightly raising an eyebrow.
You took your opportunity and leaned in, pressing your lips against his, surprising him slightly but he immediately reciprocated, running his fingers through your hair. He pulled you slightly closer to him and you rested your hands against his chest. After a moment he started kissing you deeper, getting greedier by the seconds. He placed a hand on your cheek, and you felt his tongue slide in your mouth and your whole body became warm from the inside. You shared this deep kiss for what felt like hours but had probably been minutes before you slowly pulled away, your half-lidded eyes looking at Lucifer with nothing but lust.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that, or I won’t be able to restrain myself.” He said looking back at you, gently holding your chin up, looking as lustful as you did.
You laid your hand on his thigh, squeezing it softly and earning a groan from him.
“Are you sure that’s what you want y/n?” He asked one last time. “Our relationship might never be the same.”
You looked him dead in the eyes. “Fuck our old relationship.” You smiled.
He smiled back. “Alright, then.”
And with that he deployed his six wings and took off, surprising you and holding you princess style. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and looked at him, you could tell from the serious and determined look on his face that he meant business.
You started kissing and sucking on his neck, making him shudder lightly.
“Hold on y/n, I’m going as fast as I can, but if you distract me, it’s only going to take longer.” He pleaded.
“I’m just trying to keep myself busy…” You whispered, licking his earlobe, making his flight pattern weaker.
“Okay, enjoy yourself, I’ll make sure to not restrain myself later…” He added, still looking ahead.
“I would hate it if you did.” You countered, reaching down, and placing your hand on his crotch. His pants were as tight as they could get and what was underneath was throbbing. He immediately stopped mid-flight, making you yelp in surprise.
“Now you’ve done it y/n.” He changed positions, wrapping your legs around him, pressing his crotch against yours and moving his hands to your ass. He proceeded to kiss you deeply, moaning softly as he felt your soft lips against his. You melted into the kiss, feeling how wet your own crotch had gotten already. He pulled out after a moment and looked deep into your eyes, you could see the desire burning in his eyes, though he managed to keep himself more composed than you.
“As much as I’d love to display such an amazing show to all of Hell, it is not really my style.” He smiled. “So, you’re going to be a good girl and behave so I can get us where we need to be.” He looked at you seriously.
You nodded.
“Good.” He smiled, before going ahead and moving you back to princess style as he continued forward.
~ Back at Lucifer's Tower ~
It was hard, but you had managed to keep your hands to yourself for the remaining 2 minutes of the flight.
Lucifer landed through his huge panoramic windows that were left open into his bedroom at the top of his tower.
You had never been into his personal bedroom, mostly just his office, but it was beautiful. The red theme was very elegant, and his Caesar size bed looked incredibly comfortable. You walked inside amazed at how luxurious everything looked.
“Y/n?” You heard from behind you.
You turned around only to be faced with Lucifer’s glowing figure, lit from behind by the moonlight. He had a plotting look on his face, a devilish smile perfectly formed on his confident face. He was calmly walking towards you, rolling up his sleeves.
“I hope you had fun with your little mid-flight teasing…” He fake-chuckled then sighed. “…because it’s time to take responsibility.” The smile was still there but his expression was much more serious.
You didn’t move, you just waited for him to walk up to you. When he reached you, he grabbed your face with both hands, kissing you softly at first. You kissed him back, but the kiss quickly turned into a much more heated one. You kept kissing as you stepped towards his bed, you removed his jacket from him, and he unzipped your dress as he approached the bed.
Your dress fell to the ground, exposing your white laced lingerie. As soon as your dress hit the ground you had found yourself with your legs wrapped around his hips once more, his hands holding you up effortlessly as you made out. You reached the bed, and he laid you on it. He took a good look at your figure, your expression, your curves, your hair.
“Stunning.” He whispered.
“You’re not bad yourself.” You smiled.
“Thanks!” He exclaimed, removing his shirt and exposing his fit figure. You stared just long enough for him to start smirking at you. “Are you okay?”
“Nope.” You answered truthfully.
He giggled.
“You’re funny, now get ready.”
You hadn’t had time to realize what he meant when you felt your thighs get lifted and spread with enough force to surprise you. You didn’t have time to vocally question what was happening that you felt your panties being pushed to the side and Lucifer give a slow lick to all of your womanhood, making you moan louder than you were comfortable with. You rapidly pressed your hands on your mouth. As soon as you had done so you heard him.
“Nuh huh~” He hummed.
“What?” You questioned looking down at Lucifer buried between your thighs, though not doing anything to you anymore.
“Remove those hands and let me hear it.” He looked playful and serious.
You slowly removed your hands, and he immediately went back to his business, licking you thoroughly, you could tell not only did he know what he was doing but he was also greatly enjoying himself while doing so. It was like he could feel your pleasure, giving him the ability to always adjust perfectly. You felt his tongue enter you and go deeper than you thought possible. Your moans were getting louder, he knew what spots were the most sensitive, and he teased them, building your pleasure. He loved the control he had over how you were feeling, he ate you out as tenderly and as roughly as you needed to turn you into a moaning mess, grabbing at the sheets. Every time he felt you get closer, he started teasing another spot, building your frustration alongside your pleasure. It drove you insane and soon enough you found yourself pleading with him to let you come.
“Luci please!” You implored.
“Yes, what is it love?” He asked innocently, playing coy.
“Come on please, stop teasing me.” You pleaded.
“I wanna hear you say it.” He smiled, enjoying the situation to the fullest. “What do you want me to do?” He added.
“Luci please let me come!” You begged; any ounce of pride you had having left your body at this point.
Lucifer got visibly aroused at those words, his eyes turning red for an instant as he went back at it, passionately eating you out and making you come the next moment, unleashing all your pent-up pleasure as your back arched into the leg-shaking orgasm. You moaned his name loudly as you melted into the mattress. You could feel him smile as he finished enjoying you.
You were catching your breath and recovering as Lucifer started kissing up your body, your stomach, chest then neck. That’s when you heard him speak softly.
“That’s for teasing me.” He looked into your eyes before landing a soft kiss on your lips.
You were too astounded to talk back.
At this point his crotch was pressing against yours and he looked more excited than ever.
“Good start now let’s get a little more serious.” He grinned before flipping the both of you making you straddle him as he laid back. You realized at this moment just how much he had planned for you tonight.
“Hmm…we won’t need that.” He snapped his finger making any remnants of clothes either of you wore vanish, exposing your breasts to him for the first time. His eyes devoured you as you felt a false sense of control back. You rested your hands on his chest, pressing your breasts together.
“Is everything okay?” You asked with a teasing tone.
“Nope.” He replied, realizing what you were doing. You grabbed his hand and pressed it against your breast.
“Want some of that, Daddy?” You sneered.
He squeezed your breast in a way that sent jolt in all your body, letting a moan escape your mouth, you face immediately flushing.
“Oh, what was that?” He smirked then proceeded to fondle your breasts again, making you feel weak as you moaned.
“I don’t understand how you do this!” You whined.
“Do what?” He said as he did it again, sending jolts up your body.
“You’re not using dirty tricks on me, are you?” You asked skeptically.
He looked at you and laughed audibly, before composing himself and propping himself up with one hand, placing his mouth next to your ear.
“No y/n, I’m just that good.” He declared confidently. Your face went crimson as you felt embarrassed and tried to hold your moans in as he continued teasing your now rock-hard nipple.
“I mean, besides the fact that I’m pretty confident in my own skill, that must surely mean that we are particularly compatible, don’t you think?” He asked nonchalantly.
You nodded, trying your best not to get lost in the pleasure this tease was inflicting upon you.
Your eyes widened lightly as you realized that your clothes having now been removed from the equation, your private parts were now directly in contact, you used that to your advantage and softly grinded against his shaft, earning a loud moan from him, surprising the both of you.
“I guess you’re right.” You smiled from the corner of your mouth.
He grinned lightly blushing before grabbing your waist and flipping you around as if you were a feather. You were still on top of him but you had now found yourself in a 69, your crotch inches from his face and his throbbing member right in front of you. You didn’t need to look at him to know he was proud of it.
You didn’t want to give him time to take control, so you grabbed the base of his shaft and took his tip in your mouth. You heard him groan as you swirled your tongue around it before giving his cock a hungry lick from the bottom up.
“Easy there, we have all night.” He cheerfully declared, panting softly.
You ignored him and kept enjoying yourself, savoring him like a lollipop.
“I see how it’s- gonna be.” He exclaimed; you could feel him struggling to fake his composure.
In one movement he pulled you even closer to his face and spread your pussy before passionately starting to eat you out again. You quickly felt weak, you pulled his cock out of your mouth, letting a long moan escape as a trail of saliva still linked your mouth to his head.
“Take it easy, I wouldn’t want you to choke~” He taunted.
“Don’t worry about me, this is nothing.” You replied with conviction.
You proceeded to lower your mouth on his cock all the way to the base, his whole member tickling more than the entrance of your throat.
“Oh god-“You had taken him by surprise, forcing an intense moan out of him, as he gripped the sheets tightly, pausing his own activity.
“Oh dear, you might wanna slow down a little.” He gasped.
You had him and you knew it, you moved in swift motions, your tongue wrapped around his shaft, hitting all the way down each time as you felt his body contract and his dick pulsate more and more.
“Holy shit y/n wait, I’m gonna- “He moaned as you felt his cum explode your mouth. This surprised you as you had been so focused on getting back at him, but you swallowed everything. Enjoying every bit of it, sucking him dry, or so you thought.
You finished swallowing and peeked at him, his head laying on the mattress as he caught his breath. He noticed you and grinned through his panting. “Nice play Y/n, impressive even, I hope you had fun.”
“I very much did, thank you.” You replied cheekily.
“Cause now it’s my turn.” He announced. You immediately felt two fingers enter your hole. He voluntarily pressed hard against your G-spot, the sensation so intense you screamed in pleasure. He grabbed your thigh tightly with one hand and fingered you relentlessly with the other. The pleasure overwhelming as you helplessly melted into it.
“Luci…please-“ You attempted but were cut.
“I don’t wanna hear it.” He continued. You grabbed his thigh tightly as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge.
“Come on go ahead, come for me.” He groaned, his calm and sarcastic demeanor replaced progressively by a heated passion. You tried your best to resist but it was pointless. You turned around, catching a glimpse of him, and were caught off guard, witnessing his horns out and his eyes red while he looked like he was intensely enjoying himself. He pulled out his fingers and proceeded to eat you with all his might, his tongue hitting your spot just right to make you climax against his mouth as he savored all of it.
He finished enjoying himself while you recuperated from it all. When you peeked at him again, he had gone back to his usual self.
“Do you often get all red and…horny, I guess?” You asked.
He flipped you around, pressing you against his chest, face to face.
“What was that? Oh, you mean my horns and stuff? Only when I get heated. Do you not like it? Cause I can try to tone it down.” He asked, a worried look on his face.
“No, I like that I get you heated…” You looked away, a light blush appearing on your cheeks.
He smiled softly. He cupped your face then kissed you tenderly.
“You do have that effect on me.”
You felt his member back to its throbbing state. You kissed him deeply yet delicately before looking at him seductively.
“Luci, time for the main course don’t you think?” You rubbed your soaked entrance against his hard member. “I’m at my limit.” You begged.
Having witnessed his previous reactions, you weren’t surprised when you felt his member grow even bigger after you had pronounced those words.
“Good because I’m also reaching my limit.” He answered.
You felt his tip press against your entrance and slide all the way in as you both melted into each other, a deep sigh of relief escaping your mouths.
“Holy-…you feel so good.” He groaned. He sat up, setting you both in a lotus position before resting his hands on your hips and starting to thrust. The pleasure felt so visceral you both moved cautiously as if trying to not come too fast, but without noticing, you both picked up the pace, panting and moaning filling the air. Your hands were gripping his shoulders tightly as you rocked your hips. One of his hands had migrated to your ass, squeezing your cheek tightly and the other was fondling your breast. You cupped his face and kissed him deeply, playing with his tongue as you felt his member twitch inside of you. You ran your fingers through his hair while kissing him and noticed him moan more as you did so.
Soon, the position wasn’t allowing him to move as freely as he desired and he was now standing on his knees, holding both of your ass cheeks tightly as he pounded into you. You were panting heavily as you felt it coming once again.
“Coming already?” He teased, his own panting giving away how he also felt.
You nodded no, not very convincingly. He took that as a challenge and precisely hit your G-spot repeatedly until you came, whimpering and your grip weakening.
“Good thing you’re not coming dear.” He kissed your neck, slightly sucking on it leaving a hickey.
This position had become too much for you, so he laid you flat on your stomach.
“You’re hanging there Y/n?” He asked eagerly.
“Of course!” You replied enthusiastically, it felt like your stamina was bottomless for all this pleasure.
“Good.” He replied. You felt him enter you again hungrily from behind, his body hovering over yours as he held both of your wrists, pinning them down onto the bed. Each thrust forcing a louder moan out of you. It was like the more he fucked you, the easier it became for him to make you come. His moans had also become deeper as he kept thrusting, your own increasing tightness making it harder for him. He moved his hands to your hips and dug his nails into you, allowing him a better control as he thrusted even deeper than before. You held the sheets tightly as you tried your best to match his movements, both feeding off each other’s building pleasure.
“Y/n.” You heard from behind.
You tried turning around to tell him you felt yourself getting closer when you felt his lips roughly take yours. He could’ve sent you over the edge with that kiss alone, but he also thrusted deeper than he ever had at the same time, you could only lean into the kiss as you felt the two of you come simultaneously.
As soon as the wave had finished washing over you, you collapsed on the bed, and he collapsed on top of you. He quickly caught himself though, rolling next to you and pulling you into his arms. You both relaxed for a moment, holding each other.
“Oh, my lord, that was amazing!” You heard him speak first. You turned to him, and he was smiling at you.
“It really was.” You calmly replied.
“I told you I was confident in my skill.” He smiled turning from tender to confident as he traced his finger over your body.
“I guess it was alright.” You declared.
The silence following made you look up, only to be met with a devastated look on his face.
“I’m joking!” You added, feeling bad about your joke.
“Ah! I knew that!” He fake-laughed awkwardly trying to look confident. You laughed at how cute he looked.
You pecked his lips.
You cuddled for a while before you heard a buzzing sound.
“My phone! It must still be in my dress.” You reached your dress, covering yourself with the sheet of the bed, grabbing your phone then heading back to the bed.
You checked your phone and noticed 20 missed calls.
“Huh, fuck him.” You both exclaimed at the same time before staring at each other in surprise and bursting out laughing.
You heard another buzz and was expecting it from your phone, but no new notifications had appeared.
Lucifer grabbed his phone and started laughing nervously.
“What is it?” You inquired.
“That’s, hmm…” He showed you a message that read:
From 'Ozzie 🍆💦' : I saw you took off early with your totally-just-platonic-friend. How’s the banging? 😏🍑
You stared at it for a second then you both exchanged a look and blinked, before bursting out laughing this time even harder.
~ The End ~
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pix3lplays · 2 months
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While I can totally see the toxic side of a relationship with Aventurine, I'm so down bad and soft for him and in love with him that I want him endlessly happy so may I interest you in the healthy version of dating Aventurine...? 👀
I haven't seen anything of him past the conversation he has with Ratio in his hotel room but I HAVE had him spinning around in my head since his very first leaks so I have too many thoughts about him unfortunately.........
I feel like his main love language is physical touch. I can see him having all the love languages tbh but his main feels like physical touch. He just feels like such a physically affectionate person who'd wanna drape himself all over his partner or the other way around. But considering how shit his social life and life in general is, he most definitely hasn't had physical affection reciprocated like. Ever.
So a partner who initiates physical affection with him even prior to establishing a relationship would destroy him methinks. Thanking him for something and then you jump into his arms to hug him tightly... When's the last time he's been hugged? Especially in such an affectionate manner??? Never!!!!!! His brain would shut down, he wouldn't process that he should hug back and when he does it's too late, you've pulled back and he already misses the warmth.
A partner who holds his hand?? ESPECIALLY in public??? It's clear nobody likes him and his reputation precedes him and everybody is space racist to him, so a partner who's unafraid to show him off like he's the greatest prize they could have would also destroy him methinks. He'd definitely adore PDA, but again, single and sad lol. So if his partner is down for PDA, Aventurine is the happiest bc he gets to indulge in his partners affections 24/7 AND ALSO SHOW THEM OFF?? flex that even someone like him could be loved??? Absolutely!!! Your designated seat is always his lap and he always has an arm around your waist or your shoulders and he will always shamelessly kiss you anytime he wants and you return all of it back and make everyone within a 30k mile radius feel single as fuck.
I can imagine once he's entirely comfortable with his partner, he is SUCH a gentleman. Shoes untied? He's getting down on one knee to fix it for you, caressing your leg softly and planting a kiss near your knee before standing back up. No he doesn't care if he gets his precious white pants dirty. No he doesn't care if any camera caught that and there'll be an article with his name in bold next day. Tired?? Will carry you bridal style. Out shopping?? (and he'd definitely love taking you out on shopping sprees) will carry all your bags. Anything!!
He slowly finds himself turning into husband material even if he has not been an ideal husband type ever. He'll find himself wanting to cook a nice meal at home for the two of you, likes having you sitting on the counter looking all pretty while he works and giving him kisses as thanks every now and then, or likes surprising you with it when you come home.
Starts memorizing your orders at restaurants or cafes, will always automatically just go and order your favorites.
Begins to refer to most plans with 'we'. It just comes out naturally. "This is a difficult mission to manage, but we can find a way around it". We. Even if you're not involved in his work in the slightest. You two are intertwined entirely to him.
He never officially asks you to move in. All he knows is one night you slept over and then slowly it became a regular and his house is becoming filled with more and more of your items, starting with your toothbrush then your towels then some spare clothes and now you practically live there. And he's so happy at how natural and comfortable and not awkward it feels. Nothing forced.
Speaking of spending the night, the first time you two shared a bed was insane to him. Being held so tenderly, with so much love and care and warmth.. All things he's so unfamiliar with. He almost couldn't handle it. His favorite sleeping position is either burying his face in your back while spooning you or having his face buried in your chest. He likes your warmth, your heartbeat, your hands stroking his hair and the other wrapped around him, he doesn't care how much of a baby these positions make him look like. He's comfortable and he deserves it.
Showering together was something he wasn't keen about until one time it happened and you washed his hair and he almost cried. Gentle hands rubbing his scalp and stroking his hair and lathering the soap so calmly, he could have died right then and there. Then washing his body with equal amounts of care. He'd never been taken care of that way. He started wanting you there for every single shower, throwing excuses like "I can't reach my back I need you to wash me!" or "my hair felt softer when you did it I don't know how so you have to do it!"
His future is uncertain. But he finds himself looking at your ring finger and wondering what wedding ring cut would look the best on it. Sees you with kids and thinks it'd be nice to have that. But it's a step he's far too afraid to consider taking, with how dangerous his work is and how the rug could get pulled from under him at any second. He'd never want endanger you or a child. Those are things for an incredibly far future, but the thought of possibly dying and not ever having it saddens him.
As for his gambling, as predictable as it is... You're his lucky charm!!!!!! But also his self-control. You pull him out of it when he starts betting a little TOO much, and you switch his drink with water when he starts getting too drunk too. You manage him without suffocating or restricting him, he'd appreciate it.
If you ever visit him during work hours at the IPC, he'd be the happiest. Just an IPC secretary coming to tell him he has a visitor who claims to be his partner and he's almost flying out of his chair like "let them in let them in!!!". Poor anyone around, because you will not be spared from Aventurine's kisses. He doesn't care who's there. In fact, if Topaz or Dr. Ratio are there, it's even better. He'd like to silently rub it in. And If you made him lunch and had come to drop it off???? He may actually just ask to marry you,, being taken care of is something he loves. Something he could get used to.
His job requires things to get dirty often. He's told you the details but you still stay. He sometimes wonders if you'll eventually snap out of this daze and realize what you've gotten yourself into. See his true colors and hate him and leave him. He thinks the day he came back home covered in blood that wasn't his own would be the final straw. But it somehow wasn't. He came fully expecting you to scream, yell, get angry, get upset, break up with him and leave. But you didn't. You just gave him a sympathetic look before dragging him to the bathroom. You tended to any injury with love, took his clothes off with care. Put what can be washed in the washing machine and threw what couldn't be to the side. Got him in the shower and helped clean him up. Dried his hair afterwards and got him in bed. Told him he should rest, he must be tired. Why do you still love him?? He's no good. He took someone's life today and you're worried about whether or not he's tired??? He won't ever understand what you see in him. But he's so grateful, he'd want to keep repaying you for your love.
And his birthdays.... If you throw him a surprise party, he'll cry. For sure. Does this guy look like anybody remembers or celebrates his birthday? He probably spends them getting wasted in some bar after blowing a couple of millions on a gambling table. A cake, decorations, gifts... You'd make that day special. Like a birthday should be.
He'd feel more and more like a human with you. Not like an object that can be used and discarded when no longer useful. A person. With feelings.
He'd get jealous. Cry in your arms. Say "tell me I'm yours". Begging for reassurance.
"You don't belong to anyone. I love you" you'd answer. And he'd break.
He doesn't know what it's like to not be owned. A slave. He doesn't know what it's like to be loved. Unconditionally.
He thinks you deserve better. But he can't let anyone else have you. So he becomes better.
Sorry this is soooo incredibly long and self-indulgent but I've been so obsessed for MONTHS this is so much pent up thoughts.... I'm so Normal about him <3
Yes you may absolutely interest me in a healthy relationship with Aventurine and I think every Aventurine fan needs to read this immediately-
The part about him coming home after a ‘work related incident’ had me SCREAMING oh my gosh
Like yeah coming to terms with the fact that Aventurine hurts people would be REALLY hard but you love him enough to trust him???
He definitely strikes me as the type who literally cannot imagine receiving anything without giving so to have someone just openly show him so much kindness without expecting something in return is literally shaking his world??
And yes physical touch Aventurine is so real- I have another ask proposing touch-starved Aventurine and that. Yeah that makes sense. Him counteracting that by being So physically affectionate just makes sense to me haha. He’s very in denial that he’s touch-starved haha…
Thank you for the food, I ENJOYED IT A LOT💕💕
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helluvapoison · 22 days
Note
heyy i was wondering if you could do like Lucifer x reader getting married if ,you want to ofc🫶
btw i love your work so muchh, thank you!!🫶(also english is not my first language so i hope i didn't write anything wrong)
Absolutely I Do
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
a little insight to your wedding with the king
[part ii (18+ only)]
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
• What would be a tamer version of a bridezilla? Not quite lashing out at everyone and their mother over the tiniest details but blowing a fuse when white roses arrive and he specifically asked for white gardenias?
• That would be Lucifer
• Asmodeus is his best man and the other Sins are his groomsmen, they’ll handle the flower debacle and any other matter that needs saving
• Good natured Charlie was given, arguably, the easiest task of holding onto the rings! She’s more than capable of planning the entire event on her own (and she asked to… twice) but Lucifer wanted her to enjoy this wedding as he wouldn’t be having another
• It’s part of why he wants this to go perfectly!
• He never thought he’d find another love after Lilith. He didn’t even realize that while you were delicately filling in the crater she’d left, he was falling more and more in love with you
• The other part, his pride and perfectionism aside, is that while it may be his second wedding, it’s your first. In his eyes you deserve only the best and he’ll be damned all over again if he doesn’t deliver
• You told your fiancé (FUCK he loved that word coming out of your mouth, almost as much as he was going to like husband!) to at least try to not go overboard. To which you received a “Me? Overboard? Darling, I would never! Simple and elegant, that’s what the headlines will say!”
• The many, many, many vision boards said otherwise. However you already knew damn well “simple and elegant” translated to grandeur and extravagant– and that’s exactly what it was. To Lucifer’s credit, it wasn’t gaudy or blinding. It really was a gorgeous spectacle
• Per his request it’s an all white event, a stark contrast to the overall location. The guest list is massive. After all, Lucifer’s still a king and certain people would be offended if they missed an occasion like this. Everyone goes all out. Bodies pour into chairs, everyone dripping head to toe in white garments and glamorous jewels
• Lucifer preened and primped, checking the mirror a couple hundred times and asking whoever was in the room if he looked ok. Anything less than “outstanding” had him groaning as he turned back to the mirror
• The wedding suddenly seems like a terrible idea. Not because he has cold feet (he’s rather sweaty, actually) but because the moment he sees you he just wants to steal you away
• You are positively and wholly breathtaking. The stars are jealous over how you outshine them! He can’t do anything but stare in amazement as you walk down the aisle
• Does he, Lucifer Morningstar, vow to protect, love, cherish and serve you for all eternity? Undoubtedly. He adds a few his own too like spoil you rotten, compliment you hourly, never ever never let you feel like you’re alone— all things he’s already done but wanted to make it “official”
• “It’s been an honor to be your confidant and friend… but I’m dying to do that and more as your husband.”
• Then do you take him to have and to hold, for better or worse, richer or poorer?
• “I do.” You answer proudly, squeezing his hands ever so slightly
• Forgetting present company, forgetting he’s a king and supposed to act dignified, Lucifer doesn’t wait to get permission to kiss you. He jumps slightly, knowing you’ll catch him instantly. Hugging your neck he crashes his lips onto yours
• You giggle against him, returning the kiss briefly before setting him down. (Hell knows he’d get carried away and forget much more if you didn’t)
• “I do believe you’re my husband now, Luci.”
• The entire wedding may as well have been a surprise party the way his eyes widened, as if it only just set in what the ordeal was for
• “Oh my golly, I’m your husband. I’m your husband! Hey everybody, I'm their husband!”
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ don’t apologize, you did great friend! thank you so mochi and i hope you enjoy
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yelloowcars · 1 month
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My roman empire is the fact that, from what we could see on the pilot, Lottie and Nat had a good relationship, like, I can tell they were good friends, or at least can see they stood up for eachother or agreed on most things.
I can totally imagine Lottie standing up for Nat everytime she heard something remotely close to what Tai insinuated she should be doing when she said "Don't you have a bong to hit or a dick to suck?". And then Lottie grabbing her arm about to call her out on it, but Shauna got ahead saying "Don't talk to her that way".
Then watching the slow freefall, when Lottie started to "act weird" because of the things she felt, heard, of saw in her visions. Still, at the beginning, they showed Nat still caring, talking to her or trying to sooth her in some way.
Afterwards, we know what happens and they grow apart, Nat constantly pushing Lottie aside on every attempt she had of caring for her (in Lottie's way of caring in the wilderness), but somehow on the bathtub scene it felt like they were finally getting along again, or at least standing on good terms. A silent white flag.
And Lottie cared about Nat, she never stopped caring about her, not when they were young, and definitely not when they were adults.
The adult version of them just makes me wonder how they handled things after the cabin burned down. Did the fact that Nat became the new antler queen change things on their relationship?
Why did Nat say "Friends? Is that what we are?"
Did something bad happen then? Or they grew closer and then after they were rescued and Lottie letf to the mental facility on Switzerland, something else got in between?
Like, it's clear she had to go through all of that alone. At least some of them kept in distant touch. But Lottie? As far as they knew, she was still on Switzerland completely out of her mind.
I don't know, it just makes me wonder so many things.
Also the fact that both of them as adults saw eachother's youngerselves in their most vulnerable moments, speaks to me. Like, why them exactly? They had to share something special for that to actually happen, right?
Just me rambling here, though.
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fayes-fics · 3 months
Text
Moments: 'Twas The Nights Before Christmas...
Moments Masterpost
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: It’s Christmas, and once again, the Bridgerton clan are gathering at Aubrey Hall to celebrate together. However, all Benedict can think about is conceiving a fifth child... if only he and his wife can get a moment of privacy.
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Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, breeding kink. Fluff & humour, thwarted intimacy, kids being kids, Viscounts being Viscounts.
Word Count: 2.6k
Author’s Note: Sorry this is about 2 weeks late, but here is the latest festive one-shot for Moments. It is set 6 years after the main story/their marriage and is based on an idea from the lovely @colettebronte (Request: Benedict and Reader want some adult alone time but keep getting interrupted/foiled because of holidays, family, and SO MANY KIDS), who also beta read an early version. I hope you all enjoy <3
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23rd December, 11:04pm
“Was your evening agreeable, Mrs Bridgerton?” His voice is silky as he trails hot kisses down your throat.
“You know it was,” you reply, hand sinking into his lush hair, directing his lips where you want them as he smirks knowingly against your skin. He always enjoys it when you lead him, pushing into his warm body, clad only in a white ruffled shirt and trousers.
This is you finding a moment of intimacy with your husband as you get ready for bed in your guest room in Aubrey Hall. It’s two days before Christmas, and the entire Bridgerton clan have gathered at the family’s country seat to celebrate the holiday, a large house now packed with many children. You and Benedict are here with your brood of four.
Just as your fingers toy with the buttons on his shirt and his land on the bow of your gown…
“Mummy, I cannot sleep,” a little voice cuts in from across the room.
You twist around to see your youngest, two-year-old Thomas, standing in the doorway, his little fist clinging to the door handle at head height. 
“One moment, lovely,” you call, watching him nod drowsily and toddle back into the adjoining nursery. 
You bury your forehead into Benedict’s shoulder, knowing the possible romantic interlude is lost but unwilling to admit it out loud.
“Why do you have to be so damn handsome?” you grouse.
You feel his quiet laugh quaking his body as much as you hear it. “Thank you, my love. But that seems a non sequitur to this particular dilemma?”
“Quite the contrary,” you counter, raising your head. “We would not have these offspring interrupting us if I could resist you,” you sigh, shooting him a mock pout.
He breaks into a full belly laugh that creases his whole face. “How about I deal with the children I am responsible for, and you get some well-deserved rest, hmm?” he suggests chivalrously, nuzzling your cheek.
“You know, such wonderous things make me open to persuasion about more children, Mr Bridgerton,” you jest lightheartedly, swatting his bicep playfully.
His responding chuckle is rich. “Why do you think I do it, Mrs Bridgerton?” he hums, his lips grazing your temple, his flirtatious tone causing that flutter low in your belly. He has been quite enthused by the idea of a fifth child for a while now.
“Mummyyyyyy,” Thomas reappears at the door, his tone more whiney this time.
“You get Daddy this time, Thomas,” Benedict responds over your shoulder, releasing his hold on you, walking over to the doorway and hauling his infant son into his arms. “I hope I prove an acceptable substitute; Mummy needs to rest. Now, how about a Christmassy bedtime story…?” 
Before he disappears into the nursery, Benedict shoots you a devoted but heated look that makes you want to strip him bare.
24th December, 7:14am
“Good morning, beautiful,” Benedict breathes into your ear as you awaken. 
Last you remember, when you stirred in the early hours, you were alone in the bed. You had padded to the nursery and clutched your chest at the sight of Benedict, and the little ones all curled up on a mass of pillows and blankets on the fireplace rug, just visible in the ember glow, an open book in his hand. After a few beats of staring at the adorable pile of sleeping Bridgertons, you closed the door quietly and snuck back to bed. He must have awoken at some subsequent point and joined you.
“Good morning,” your reply is scratchy from sleep, burrowing back into your husband's embrace, reluctant to throw off the covers just yet.
“I think I would like to persuade you this morning…” his opening gambit as his hand slides down over your thin silk nightgown, rucking the hem up your thighs.
“To do what?” you obfuscate, an unseen smile toying on your lips. You know precisely what he refers to, but you want to see how he will broach it.
“I do believe you may be amenable to more children, my love,” he rumbles into the nape of your neck, dropping a kiss there as his warm fingertips swirl on your thigh.
“Am I?” you feign ignorance, that smile growing wider, a flush spreading through your being at how your husband can be when babymaking is on the cards. “But this is not a family wedding, and that is your usual milieu,” you tease, flipping over to capture a brief, chaste kiss.
“A family gathering is close enough,” he counters over your lips, then swallows your noise of bemused derision with a passionate kiss that has you arching up and pulling him on top of you as your tongues tangle.
“IS IT CHRISTMAS?!?” 
Amelia barges through the nursery door, a ball of enthusiasm and jumping excitement.
“I thought I locked that blasted door...” Benedict grumbles tacitly over your cupid's bow as you giggle.
“Not today, Amelia, that is tomorrow,” you respond placatingly, turning your head to look at her and stroking your husband’s arm as he sighs deeply into your neck, knowing your intimate moment is gone.
Your tiny entertainer climbs onto the bed as your husband rolls away defeated, a triumphant look on her face as she claims a prime spot among her favourite audience, her parents. 
Isobel then appears in the nursery doorway holding Thomas’ hand. “It is only fair we get to join too,” she appeals.
“Fine, yes, come join us, my sweet,” Benedict calls genially if a touch reluctant.
“I brought the story, Daddy,” Isobel adds as all three settle between you, handing over the book he had been reading the previous night. “I thought you and Mummy could read the rest to us; we do so need to know how it ends, do we not…?”
Amelia and Thomas nod along, enthused, and you have the creeping suspicion your children have somehow conspired to get their way. Especially when eldest James wanders in and casually perches at the end of the bed, a lopsided smirk identical to Benedict’s as he pointedly gestures for you both to begin reading.
“I do believe we may have been hoodwinked by our children,” you sidebar quietly to your husband as he opens the book to locate where he had left off.
“I suspect so,” he responds sotto voce, but there is such contentment in his tone as he surveys the gaggle of children filling your bed—you just know he could not be any happier about it.
24th December, 9:57pm
You are taking some fresh air on the terrace after another busy family day, rounded off with a convivial dinner when strong arms wrap around your middle.
“The children are in bed, sleeping this time. Should we resume our plans?” he rumbles as he pulls you back into his solid frame.
You scoff bemused. “Here on the terrace? Where any of the family could wander out?” 
“You didn't seem to mind all those years ago when you were pregnant with Isobel,” he points out, both of your eyes cutting off to the pillar where, indeed, you had taken your husband into your mouth right there after the family Christmas dinner.
“You cannot hold me responsible for my behaviour when I am pregnant; you know how I get,” you shoot back, lacing your fingers with his hand at your waist and swaying gently.
“Oh, I think it simply delightful. Why do you think I want you pregnant again, my love? Hmmm? We could take a walk somewhere. Perhaps the woods?” His voice is low and skitters over your collarbone pitched at that cadence he knows always makes you weak.
“‘Tis late December and close to freezing,” you point out feebly, your reticence ebbing as his warm lips land on your shoulder, right by the neckline of your dress.
“I will keep you warm,” he vows, sucking your skin insistently, a damp heat that invariably ignites a flame in your gut.
“You are so very persuasive, husband,” you mutter, pushing your bottom back against the nascent swelling in his britches and guiding one of his hands from your waist up to your mouth, kissing his knuckles.
“I do so enjoy persuading you,” he purrs before opening his mouth wider and gently grazing the edge of his teeth over your flesh, your arm reaching up to wrap around his neck, grinding back against him insistently now and sucking his fingertips into your mouth.
“Benedict! I was wonde….” the Viscount’s voice rings out.
Anthony bustles onto the terrace but stops short at the sight of you both in an ardent cinch. You immediately slide away from your husband but know it’s too late, both of your clothing slightly dishevelled and a bloom on the top of your collarbone from your husband’s zealous attentions, your saliva glistening on Benedict's fingers.
“Sorry…”Anthony stumbles, his cheeks heating at the obvious interruption.
“I apologise, my lord,” you lower your head, embarrassed.
“Perhaps it would be wise to keep your… amorous activities… to more private spaces,” he chastises gently, recovering. 
“Was that not you and Kate I saw against the stable wall yesterday?” Benedict challenges, wrapping his arm around your waist, defiantly pulling you back into him, his tone full of sibling goading.
Anthony flushes claret red. “Well… I…” You can feel Benedict smirking as his older brother flounders. “That is no matter. But I wish to discuss something with you if you do not mind,” he finishes pointedly with a brusque nod, firmly changing the topic.
Sensing there is something Anthony would like to broach now, you twist your head to whisper to Benedict. “It sounds as if it would be best you do as your brother wishes, my love. We will resume later, I promise,” you pledge, your voice intentionally laden.
“I do believe you are right, as ever,” he concurs reticently, squeezing your waist. “I shall see you anon,” his whisper thrillingly auspicious.
25th December, 2:17am
“Do you think the Viscount will mind?” You murmur, your lips on his ear as you rise and fall. Pressing yourself into him as much as possible.
“That we are fucking in his dining room in the dead of night?” Benedict checks, his hands banded around your waist, encouraging your movements. The moonlight streams through the large windows, throwing everything into sharp relief, the room bathed in streaks of light and shadow. 
You giggle and gently teeth the shell of his ear, slightly breathy with exertion. “Yes.” 
“Yes, I think he will mind,” he chuckles, splaying his large hand wide, hooking his thumb onto your clit even as his fingers crest your hips. It makes you groan loudly, your hardened nipples dragging against his chest, adding to the sensation as you ride his cock. “But I say this is apt payback for his interruption earlier. So make all the noise you want, darling.”
“He can watch for all I care,” you stutter, leaning away from him and grasping the large, sturdy banquet table behind your back, using it as leverage to fuck him harder.
Benedict groans at the idea you would fuck him even with an audience. His eyes are on your face as you look down, watching his solid cock disappear inside you by the pale glow of the room. It’s a sight you always enjoy, feeling him push you open inside as you sink. 
“Do you like what you see?” He murmurs his voice buttery, his thumb on your clit circling more insistently now.
You tear your eyes away from the hypnotic sight and raise your head to meet his hooded, amorous gaze. “Always,” you affirm. 
It’s a daring thing to do in the early hours of Christmas Day while the rest of the gathered Bridgerton clan sleeps. But after two days of thwarted intimacy, this was almost inevitable.  
You had retired as Anthony detained Benedict in his study discussing business matters. However, you awoke thirsty sometime after midnight and came downstairs for a drink. Benedict had followed soon after and found you—sipping a glass of water and staring out across the moonlit grounds. 
One kiss led to another and another, and then you were both peeling off nightwear. The look on his face as you pushed him into a dining chair and straddled his lap was priceless. And now here you are. Riding him with your feet hooked onto the crossbar of the chair gives you the leverage you need to go so hard that the sturdy chair squeaks in objection.
He utters words of encouragement as you tighten your arms around him and sit back upright, wanting to feel all his skin against yours.
“What shall we call this child?” he murmurs. “Perhaps Joy as it is Christmas?” 
“We cannot conceive a child here!” you protest huskily, even as an excited quiver wracks your frame, so very needy after so many denied attempts at intimacy since you arrived. 
“Oh yes, we bloody can,” he growls and surges his hips upwards, his cock grazing so deep you go limp at the sensation of being plundered so thoroughly.
“What if it is a boy?” you gasp as he takes over, his grip on your hips vicelike as he lifts you and then pulls you back down into his lap in forceful strokes.
“Noel, of course,” he chimes, jubilant, not missing a beat with his movements.
You just nod weakly, too drunk on the sensations coursing in your body to disagree. His mouth is back on that same spot he bothered earlier, no doubt leaving a dark mark you already know he won't care for you to conceal. He loves it when you bear his love bites, even in front of his family. 
“Unhook your feet,” he mumbles, and as you do so, he stands up, still buried inside you and lays your back upon the table.
Then it's a blur of swallowed moans and dewy skin as he fucks you hard, your nails scraping down his back as his hands band under your shoulders, tugging your whole being down onto his cock relentlessly, the table now squeaking louder than the chair had.
You babble a litany of encouraging words into his hair and hold on tight, your heels digging into his rear, skating the edge of that enthralling abyss that is so addictive. 
“Come for me, my love,” he pleads, those fingers back between your bodies, catching your clit. And then you are away, breaking and tumbling over the edge, trying desperately to muffle your ecstatic cries, face buried in his neck as your whole body spasms and bliss radiates out from where you clench hard around his cock. 
His movements become erratic, and his grasp on you so tight before he growls and freezes, a groan wracking his body, his seed spilling deep inside as you still float away, writhing under him as he pins you down.
And, a few minutes later, after re-dressing, you both creep back upstairs to your room, giggling and wrapped in each other's arms, grateful it seems no one has stirred (yes, not even a mouse) on this magical night before Christmas.  
Some Moments are indeed best uninterrupted.
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Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa
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arcadia345 · 11 months
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Astro observations🌺
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FYI I’m not a real astrologer, just my observations :) TW🔞
The cancer moon men I know are pretty chill and laid back + funny, but the women are so bitchy and moody😭 with a big sweet tooth
Every twin I know either has Gemini or Pisces placements
You ever meet someone and their neck just stands out for some reason added points if they smell good, most likely they’re a Taurus rising/ mars. Good example is Megan thee stallion her neck is so cute to me hehe
Aries in the chart can show you the things you were introduced to at a very young age, the early memories that you think of and say ‘That was wild lol’
3rd: could’ve started learning way before you started school(like flash cards and things) siblings and cousins, music, having access to electronics early
4th: erratic home life, the woman around you could be go getters
6th: could’ve got a lot of injuries when younger, probably couldn’t have a peaceful day even if you tried, bad experiences with animals
7th: domestic abuse, might have seen people having affairs, lots of disagreements between couples
12th:paranormal events, you could’ve had a lot of deja vu moments without even knowing, tend to have strong spiritual gifts,people having ill intentions towards you
Aquarius moon or degree/ moon in the 11th tend to have a “second mom” a person that treats them like their one of their own children, sometimes even better than their own mother does. 🌚
The people with mars in the first house I know have so many battle scars on their body
Moon/cancer in 3rd love changing their voices, and they have a bad habit of not telling the whole truth / white lies
Water sign on the descendent- people are always wondering what you’re up to, no matter how much you show them they’ll still wanna know what you’re hiding
Your first house correlates to how you came into this world, I have Chiron (ruled by Virgo) in my 12 conjunct my ascendant, uhm she said she almost d*ed having me😀 and I was a C-section baby. And the hospital did her so dirty(you know much they hate black women) they didn’t even stitch her back up correctly or drain her fluids and to this day she still has problems. The also gave her extra dosages of drugs just cause she’s a plus size woman- honestly I could go on and on but it really correlates with my cap rising and Neptune/Uranus in 1st
Mercury ☌ Sun, these people voices are just💋💋 they sound so sensual and unique ugh hard to explain it but 🥴 ex. Jungkook , Tupac
Gemini/ Libra in 2nd love collecting things like figurines makeup clothes candles plushies, could easily be a borderline hoarder tho
Ives noticed that sun in 10th have a strained relationship with their father, but their later years in life their relationship gets better, or not could really go either way, also could have money issues in their early years but ends up climbing the corporate ladder. It may take you a while to tho but just know it’ll be worth it in the end :) also they always stand out at their work place in some way, the coworker that you’re glad to see clock in at rush hour cause you know they gonna handle shit
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Venus- mercury positive aspects love giving out nicknames to their favorite people 🥺if they’re always calling you cute names just know they really care about you lol
Sag moons and degrees have no chill😀 like calm down bae sag anything tbh🚬
9th house ruler in the 11th could go to the same college with their old friends or could become very popular in the area they’re in, I think they’d make good bloggers
Air signs or degrees in 5th are trend setters.
Aquarius you inspire people, they could take things and make it into their own like art
With gemini here people will “copy & paste” ur looks. But no matter what it just looks like a knockoff version of what you did lmao it just never look as good as yours
Libra here people are very opinionated on how you express yourself either in a good way or bad, neither less you guys get a lot of compliments on your style
Every time I see a Capricorn rising with Neptune in the 1st it’s like their skin is see through and fragile😯makes sense tho since caps rule the skin and Neptune fogs things up. A good example is Ariana Grande her skin looks so delicate
Pluto/Scorpio in the 11th/11th house ruler in 8th, your friends could hate each other🤺 also they could have a rough life/childhood, trauma bonding or just experiencing traumatic events together is common here
Chiron in Aries (honestly any Aries placements it just depends on where it is), most people didn’t pay attention to them in their childhood in some way so they learned to be independent because of their lack of support cardinal things fr
That’s all for today! Give me a follow if you enjoyed💕
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flamingpudding · 6 months
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Fictober23 Prompt: 2 - "Don't worry, I got you."
Fandom: DPxDC
Rating: T
Warnings: Mentions of death, implied mentions of panic attacks handling, Jason typical profanity
"Don't worry, I got you."
These were the first words Jason could finally hear after what felt like forever. His head was pounding and his vision was still tinted green but slowly he felt like he was gaining control over the rage that had taken over.
He couldn't remember what triggered it, nor what he had done when his vision turned green. All he remembers was that he had been out on Patrol before he heard a scream. But now he could feel two hands resting on his shoulder. A young voice resounded in his ears, telling him to breathe in deeply, hold it and then breathe out. He remembers this exercise, B had made sure they all knew this one, so that they could help anyone that was working themselves into a panic attack. But he wasn't suffering through one, was he?
Unconsciously his eyes closed, blocking his vision of the still tinted green world.
"That's it. Try to redirect that power, don't let the Mania take hold. Can you feel your core? Try listening for its humming."
What core? What do they mean? Yet despite not knowing what they were talking about Jason tried to follow the direction the voice gave him. He wasn't sure why he was even listening to them, but something in him made the vigilante want to trust them. Redirect the power, they had said. Maybe they meant the Pit Rage? But how? Feeling for his core? Did they mean his heart? Jason could do that, he focused on his heart beat, tried to sense how it beat rhythmically in his chest and heard the blood rushing in his veins. Now that he listened there was a humming next to his heartbeat. Was this what they meant? Probably.
"Great you found your core, focus on it. Store that power in there for now."
Nodding slightly Jason tried to do what they said. Whatever this core was, he imaged it like a box and then mentally stuffed all that Pit Rage into it. Every bit of rage and madness the Pit made him feel, everything. He pushed it all into the box he imagined as that core and once it was all in there he decided to go a step further. His eyebrows furrowed as he imagined closing the lit of the box and putting a big fat lock on it. Like the one B put on his weapon storage after he raided it 5 times in a row when he had run out of grenades to throw at drug dealers and other scum lurking in his territory.
"Hey! Hey! Don't overdo it! Your core is still tiny! To much power und you will be in big trouble if it bursts the next time!"
His eyes snapped open. The first thing he noticed was his version was no longer tinted green. The second thing he noticed was the kid floating with no legs before him. Lazarus Green eyes coupled with snow white hair stared concerned yet relieved back at him.
"What the fuck-"
"Great! You're back to your senses!" The kid cut him of grinning at him and Jason was just confused and also surprised at himself. He did not feel anymore rage or a need for violence but instead his mind for once felt calm and a whole lot Pit free. Though there was the confusion of WHO THE FUCK WAS THAT KID?
"I honestly didn't expect to find another Halfa when I was contacted by Pandora to look into something. But Clockwork did mention something before, that I should look out for his Granddaughters fan that lives in Gotham and wears a red helmet. Didn't think I would meet you this soon though or like that. I haven't even greeted Lady Gotham yet. I was just on my way to the center of her haunt when I got these real disturbing feelings and bam you appeared out of nowhere attacking and I was forced-"
He cut the kids rambling off by rudely shoving his hand over the kids mouth to make the boy stop talking. "Shut up for a second there kid and let me catch up. You just dumped a lot of info there."
The kid had the nerve to sheepishly rub the back of his neck as he floated backwards a little, away from his hand that was covering his mouth. "Sorry, I got excited there. I think this must have been how the fruitloop had felt at first before things went to shit, when he found out I was a Halfa too. It's just kind of exciting, you know? There aren't a lot of us."
"The fuck you mean Halfa?" He questioned and mentally thanked his self from a couple hours ago for choosing to go on patrol with his trusted helmet instead of listening to his brother to use just a mask because of the head. This way the kid was not able to see his facial expression escaping him with all the info bombs the kid kept dropping.
"Half death, half alive. Well more like Half Ghost, Half human but details." The kid shrugged and Jason really wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose right now through his helmet.
"Last I checked I appear to be pretty alive, kid." He would know if he weren't or at least he hoped he would know, somehow.
"Well duh. That's the half alive part. The half death part is your second form, have you not managed to transform yet? I mean your core is tiny but that shouldn't matter to much. You did die and then come back alive with the balance sort of regulated by a big amount of ectoplasm, right? Though I have to say that the ectoplasm in your system is very unusual. It's so different from what I feel from Dani, Dan or even the fruitloop. I probably should drag you to Frostbite as soon as possible but there are no portals here so I would have to drag you either to my home or Wisconsin first, or maybe find a natural portal but that's harder than just taking you to one of the permanent open ones. Speaking of Dani and Dan, they gotta be excited to hear that there is another Halfa in our age range that's not related via cloning or time shenanigans! That's gotta be so fun and we can show-"
"Kid, you're rambling again." Jason cut in suppressing a sigh. Cloning? Time shenanigans? What the fuck was he getting into by associating with this kid? "Did anyone ever tell you that you are bad at explaining?"
"My friends and older sister." The kid answered with no delay, like he had been asked that same question before. "Also I am 20."
Jason wished the kid could see how he arched an eyebrow under his helmet. He could have tricked him if he didn't look like a 14 years old. The kid appeared to sense it anyway as they huffed and pouted his way. "I swear I am! My Ghost form is just stuck at looking like the age I died at! I haven't figured out how to manipulate my ectoplasm to make my ghost self look older yet! I swear Dan has been holding this over me for years now!"
"Sure kid, let's just get back to that Halfa thing and what that means for me." Jason didn't know what exactly the kid was nor what the kid meant by Jason apparently being also an Halfa -was it?-, which meant the kid was one in the first place. "By the way, who are you?"
"Oh right! I am Danny Phantom! Nice to meet you Red Hood! And pleases stop calling me a kid! I swear I am not anymore!" Well that was at least a step forward. Now Jason just had to figure out how to get the information he really needed from the kid, Danny, without listening to excessive rambling as well as how to explain just all of this to Bruce and the rest of his siblings. He can already hear them freaking out about it.
No wait, he actually could hear them freak out right now. Oh shit! His coms were on, weren't they? Wait did Dickwing just say ETA 5? And B just said ETA 3! Shit, fuck, damit! His family were on the way and he was not sure if the Halfa Kid, or whatever, would run at the site of them. B would probably scare the shit out of the kid just to get answers.
Well at least, the good thing so far was that the Pit was quiet now and the kid could apparently help him control it and the Pit Rage better.
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littlejuicebox · 3 months
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Handmade
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Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: Nine years post BG3 / You and Astarion are married; you now work as a Counsellor, Astarion handles your business investments. After a lot of hard work, the two of you have established quite a wealthy, wholesome life for yourselves. / If you're looking for more backstory and HCs for this version of AstarionxTav, check out my Highharvestide fics. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / Holiday fluff / Sexual references / Maybe some mild in game spoilers Word Count: Notes: This is 4/5 "Days of Star-mas!"
I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "gifts."
Click here to see my master list.
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Gift giving was, without a doubt, Astarion’s love language. He truly adored spoiling you with the most opulent things money could buy. A plethora of rare night blooming plants, ridiculously ornate gowns, a cabinet full of gem-encrusted jewelry, first editions of your favorite books (more than a few signed by the authors)… in truth, you’d been given it all. 
But well before this year’s Midwinter Banquet, just as the summer turned to autumn and the leaves in your back orchard were beginning to drop and kiss the earth, you explicitly told your husband you wanted something handmade this year. Something from the heart.
The vampire groaned at this stipulation. “Darling, I’ve got so many wonderful ideas. I’ve seen some beautiful dresses in the shops that would look wonderful on you. And a pair of earrings that would go beautifully with your eyes; just this morning I was in discussions with a horse breeder about purchasing you your very own riding horse since you seem to abhor the carriage… you just can’t be serious about this, my sweet.” 
“I am.” You’d responded, tone matter-of-fact, arms crossed, brow furrowed as you address your husband, “My love, we have everything. Everything we could possibly want and money to buy anything else we want or need, too. I’ve been given the most luxurious gifts for nine years straight… but I want something from the heart. I want something from my rogue. From the man that used to leave me flowers on my pillow at camp and steal me sweet rolls from the merchants. I know he’s in there, somewhere.” 
You step closer to your husband, peering deeply into his eyes like you’re searching for something lost deep within the pupil. Then you place your ear to Astarion’s chest and bring your hand up to knock on it. “Hellllooo? Rogue Astarion? Can you hear me in there?” 
Your love chuckles at your antics and grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly before planting a kiss on the knuckle. “Very well darling, have it your way. How could I say no?” 
You beam, overjoyed to have won this little debate. Then, for the next few months, the two of you sneak off to prepare your individual gifts for one another whenever you have a spare moment.
More than once in those few months, Astarion had rattled the door to your bedroom, threatening to pick the lock if you didn’t let him in that instant. You’d groan in frustration every time, quickly stow away your gift, and then rip open the door to roll your eyes at the pale elf. 
“It’s only been a few hours, Astarion. You interrupted me right when I was actually getting somewhere, do you know that?” You’d scolded, more than once. 
“Darling, it’s been several hours, not just a few. Why is it not possible for you work on your gift somewhere else? I need use of this room, too, you know. Unless this is somehow your way of telling me you’d like to sleep in separate rooms from now on, my sweet?” He’d challenged more than once, quirking his white eyebrow at you with a rakish smirk. Then he'd sweep into the room with a brief kiss to your temple and ready himself for bed or a bath.
“If I could work on it elsewhere, I would! But I can’t. You’ll see why.” You would always huff in response, wrinkling your nose impatiently at your husband. “And don’t pretend you’d be able to sleep a wink if you were made to lay in the guest chambers, Lord Ancunin. Don’t tempt me with any ideas.”
Astarion would sigh and dramatically roll his eyes at you, but continue to oblige your long stints alone in the bedchamber, nonetheless. He never mentioned that he only ever interrupted you when you exceeded more than six hours holed up in the bedchamber alone; even a vampire had to bathe and sleep at some point, after all. 
As for Astarion? He was regularly in the middle of meetings or reviewing contracts when you were working on your project, so his time had been allocated a bit differently. He would often prepare his gift while you slept… you’d always needed more sleep than he did. The vampire would slip out of bed and down into the parlor, where he would spend a few hours curled up in the sofa at work before cozying back up to you before you woke. 
Soon enough, it was time for the Midwinter Banquet. It was the Ancunin’s turn to host a dinner party; the Ravengards had just done Highharvestide, the Dekarioses had hosted Midwinter the year prior, and Lae’zel and Shadowheart lived a rather nomadic lifestyle that didn’t allow hosting parties. Technically, it should have been Karlach and Dammon’s first year to host, but as they were fresh newlyweds that had barely purchased a property that same month, you’d kindly offered them a pass.
As was typical for an Ancunin dinner party, the dining hall had been completely decked out by the staff. No surface was left untouched from the beautiful combination of candles, pine trimmings, and bunting you’d roped a reluctant Astarion into helping you string. You were quite proud of the bunting, which was handmade with dried oranges, cranberries, and touches of greenery. 
You were, as always, meandering about the dining room, far too fixated on the most minute details of the table settings. Astarion made his way over to you, as he did every time you hosted a party, to force you from your nervous habit of hyperfixation.
This year you were saddened to immediately notice the absence of Scratch as your husband entered the large wooden doors of the dining hall; the dog had passed that summer. Astarion, out of habit, flexed his fingers downward to make contact with the dog’s scruff, only to drag his fingers through the empty air. You’d seen this maneuver from your husband more than once, and as you watched him enter the dining hall, you made a mental note to find another furry companion soon. He’d never admit he was taking the loss quite hard. 
“Darling, it’s time for you to dress. And, it’s time for us to exchange presents before everyone arrives.” The vampire murmurs, taking your hand and pulling you from the dining hall and into the adjacent parlor, where your presents are sat underneath a tree adorned with baubles and more of that fruit-filled bunting you two spent an entire day crafting. 
You grab the small red and gold package sitting under the pine tree and grin, handing it to your husband. “Here, open mine first.” 
Astarion raises his eyebrow as he examines the package, giving it a little shake as he holds it to his ear. The package doesn’t make a sound, and he hums in idle curiosity as he undoes the red ribbon tied around the gift. You’re practically bouncing with excitement and anticipation as you watch him carefully undo the wrapping. 
“Just tear it!” You exclaim impatiently, and the pale elf chuckles at you and rolls his eyes before obeying your command and tearing the paper off the gift. 
Astarion is speechless as he stares down at the labor of your love. It’s a small painting, roughly the length and width of a book. The painting depicts you and… well, it must be him, cuddled in bed together. His arm is wrapped around your shoulder, and your hand is gripping the fingers dangling from that same arm. The two of you are laughing underneath the familiar maroon and gold bedspread always located on your four-poster bed. He’s in awe of the details: the little fangs in his mouth, his scarlet eyes and the glint within them, the pinprick scars on your neck, and the freckles along your arm. 
“Turn it over.” You whisper, watching as the vampire obliges with wet eyes.
On the back you’ve written: “My Favorite Place” in your delicate, flowing script. And as his scarlet eyes read the words, your husband loses his barely held composure, cold lower lip trembling as salty tears fall over his waterline. He tugs you into a crushing hug, placing repeated kisses in your hair, and you’re beaming because for once you’ve rendered the loquacious vampire speechless.
You’re teary eyed as well when you sniffle and pull away from Astarion. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to get it right. It’s taken me years, my love. I even snuck in lessons on my trips further into the city to meet with the other Counsellors or Wyll. But I hope you can see us how I see us, now.” 
Astarion nods slowly before placing the gift down on the end table, still overcome with sentimentality. He gives a soft chuckle as he wipes his own eyes and then yours. “Well, darling… now I’m quite worried my gift will pale in comparison, to be honest.” 
“Nonsense!” You promise, as you sit down on the sofa and hold your hands out expectantly. You’re bearing a child-like grin as you wiggle your fingers, bidding the vampire to continue on.
Astarion is nervous. You can see it in his crimson eyes and the twitching of his hands as he grabs the silvery package and gives it to you. His ears are flushed in that subtle way that only appears when he’s extremely embarrassed or aroused… though in this case, you’re quite sure it’s embarrassed. 
As you’re unwrapping the gift with much less care than your husband had unwrapped his, the elf in the midst of explaining himself away, “Darling if you end up not liking it, I’m more than happy to—“ 
But he’s interrupted by a thrilled gasp and ecstatic squeals as you lift a heavily embroidered blanket out of the plain wrapping box. 
“Astarion, how could I not love this? This is beautiful!” You exclaim, quickly opening the blanket and draping it over the couch to admire your husband’s stitch work, “I knew you were talented, my love… but I am blown away.” 
Astarion is beaming now, his ears completely red with some combination of embarrassment and excitement at your praise. He comes to your side and places a hand on your waist as the other one points to the bottom corner of the blanket before tracing up the width and then down the length in a repeated clockwise motion. 
“It’s… it’s symbolism, my darling. Of our love story.” He explains in a still-nervous whisper. 
You move closer to examine the piece and your eyes pick out bits of embroidered details between the floral filigree; you notice you recognize many of the plants from your own night blooming garden. As you move in the direction Astarion pointed, you note several obvious points of symbolism: a dagger, stars and a campfire, glasses of wine, that familiar forest clearing lit up by the moon, his old hand mirror, Lathander’s Mace (he’d conveniently left out the fallen crèche he’d saved you from), Moonrise Towers, the Warding Bond rings you two now kept in a jewelry box upstairs… on and on and on.
You follow the story all the way to the center, where there is a beautiful design of the sun, moon, and stars. At first, you think this is in reference to his proposal, but then you realize it would be in the wrong order. You can't quite figure out the meaning.
Your fingers stroke those center celestial stitches, the only pieces done in shimmering gold and silver thread. “And what does this symbolize, my love?” 
Astarion shifts slightly on his feet, fingers still flexing with anxiety. Your brows furrow as you look from the piece to your husband, wondering why he’s still so nervous when you clearly love the gift. He inhales sharply and bends down, putting his hand in the forgotten gift box that you’d all but tossed aside in your excitement. He pulls out a smaller piece of fabric. It's an infant’s blanket. 
You feel your heart stop in your chest as the vampire slowly unfolds the tiny blanket to reveal a beautiful scene of the sun, moon, and stars all done in that same gorgeous, shimmery thread. 
“My love, I… well, I think it might be time that we consider expanding the family. And Gale seems to be making great strides with the Wish Spell preparations and it seems that might be a real possibility soon and—“
You interrupt your husband’s explanation, crashing your warm lips into his cold ones, and he’s knocked off balance, forced to collapse into the sofa by the weight of your body careening into his. When you pull away from him, both of you are grinning like idiots and slightly flushed at the mere thought of such an impossible possibility. You simply give the vampire a little nod, and then break into delighted laughter, soon joined by him. 
Your husband kisses you softly, and then leans towards your ear, voice dropping into that devilish murmur. “How much time do we have before the party, darling? Perhaps we’ll do a test round before we dress. I would like the two of us to be well practiced when the time comes.” 
You smirk at the vampire when he pulls away from you, his face wearing that irresistible cocked eyebrow and a glimmer of playfulness in his scarlet eyes. You press a finger to your lips and feign humming as if in thought. “I think we might have time for one practice round… if you can catch me, that is.” 
“Why you little—” 
You don’t hear the rest of Astarion’s scolding, but you feel his fingers narrowly miss the curve of your hip as he tries and fails to grasp you. You’re off like a bow shot from an arrow, speeding out of the parlor and down the hall toward your bedchamber, swerving around the poor maid with a shouted apology. You’re grinning as you run down the hallway, thinking that for once you won this little game you liked to play with your love. But then Astarion is snapping his arms around your waist just as your hand reaches for the bedroom doorknob, and you’re laughing boisterously as the two of you crash into the bedroom and onto the bed. 
It isn’t until the maid is knocking on the door roughly thirty minutes later, announcing the arrival of the ever-timely Duke Ravengard, that the two of you hurriedly dress and rush out to greet your guests. Your friends would have been none the wiser, too, if it hadn’t been for the little love bites slowly blooming across your chest throughout dinner. Astarion brimmed with hedonistic delight, and perhaps a bit of subtle pride, as everyone slowly realized what you two had been doing moments before the party and tried with all their might to politely avert their eyes.
Sure, you two had been a bit naughty just before everyone arrived… but hells, if it hadn’t been exceptionally nice.  
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zuktara · 3 months
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Hii! Sorry to bother you, but I just saw your post about that one GoT scene with "camera raw filter" and *have* to ask...what is that?! That looks insanely good. I tried doing a quick google search, and it seems like it's a Photoshop pluggin, maybe? I'm not too sure... Would you mind sharing a bit more about it, pretty please?
the post anon is referring to:
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this is by no means an adequate guide or even a comprehensible explanation, but i hope it helps out somewhat.
you are correct, camera raw filter is a photoshop plugin. you can download it from here (works with 🏴‍☠️d/portable versions too): the installation is pretty straight forward, just do it as you would with any program.
before you do anything, make sure your screencaps are a smart object (it will obviously be faster if you add a camera raw filter after you've resized and added whatever it is you need to add, but you can always just do it with the original sized screencaps). it's easier to edit the properties from a smart object than to go back and try to get it right again from scratch.
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you will find it under filter > camera raw filter… this will bring up a new window:
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you can add as many of them as you need to. if you want to edit it because you think you've made it too bright or too blue or something, just double click on camera raw filter under your smart object:
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if you're editing one scene and you would like for everything to look uniform, you can also just bring over your settings because they're smart objects:
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okay enough yapping, back to what you came here for. let's go through all that i use/have used and how they work. you can mix and match them however you want - what works for one scene might not work for another.
the 'Light' section you can use to fix the light of the scene but i basically only use it if i want to "strengthen"/darken the whites and highlights. if your files are too dark or lack contrast, you can fix that here.
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the 'Color' section!!! chef's kiss. this is what i used for the Sansa screencap. first you need to think about whether your screencap is too yellow or too blue, and then slide it towards the opposite direction. after i did that, it was way too green, so i used the tint feature to help out with that.
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if you have handled today's media, you know that they haaaate color. so still in 'Color', in vibrance/saturation (i have never worked out the difference and atp i don't really care asdfghjkl) you can adjust that as well but it's for all the colors of the rainbow. you can enhance colors better in 'Caliberation' (see below).
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i don't really use 'Effects', but the Vignette feature is a lifesaver if you encounter those. an example:
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i have never touched 'Curve' but i image it works just like curves.
'Color Mixer' is good to manipulate colors. it's basically hue/saturation but lowkey better. if you switch to 'Color' in Adjust, you can edit them more accurately (Capcut has a feature similar to this i think).
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ngl i don't have a good example of this now so enjoy this cartoonish something:
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and we have arrived at my favorite!!! with 'Color Grading', you can fix almost anything: Midtones, Shadows and Highlights. it's basically a color wheel and you can try to find the black midtone and white points that will neutralize your screencaps. you can be more accurate with them if you click the circles in Adjust. basically a more freestyle curves i think.
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lastly, 'Calibration'. you can also enhance or diminish colors here based on whether they belong in the red, green or blue primary. eg if you have a scene that's way too yellow, you can try and bring down the saturation in Blue Primary and it will help tremendously.
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if you have any further questions, feel free to send me another ask!
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wroteclassicaly · 11 months
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Nancy decided she didn’t want Steve. And now that she’s been away from Jonathan, has seen the growth Steve had to go through from everything he experienced (trauma, torture, being cheated on, thrown into the upside down shit, not to mention what he was going through before all of that, etc), he’s suddenly worthy of still being in love with? Don’t mess me with that shit, sis. Steve was never a bad boyfriend, nor was he a bad person. Before I started the show I expected some MAJOR douchebag that fucked his gf and then left her when he got what he wanted. Man’s only downfall was calling Jonathan names and being an asshole to other people (not counting him breaking Jonathan’s camera. He deserved it for taking those pics of Nancy and y’all know it).
He approached Nancy the very next day after he took her virginity to check on her. He constantly apologized when it wasn’t his fault. He only lashed out when he was hurt (rightfully so), and when he realized what nasty people Carol and Tommy were — he ditched them. Could he have handled Barb’s death better — sure. But he was also dealing with it, probably confused and pushing it down, and he tried to make things seem normal for Nancy’s sake, and for his own.
This shit of Nancy being jealous of Robin was so ignorant that I almost puked. And this was before I even finished the series. I knew I didn’t like Stancy when I watched the first two episodes (4x09 and 1x01). Nancy has to claim over Steve. Their individual growths should NOT be entwined. If you look at the inconsistency in trying to resurrect that ship, it almost seems like the D bros hate Nancy and Steve.
Their reunion will undo so much shit, and in my opinion, will destroy them. Not to mention that Steve will probably sacrifice himself in the name of Nancy and her future (avoiding the white picket fence garbage she didn’t want, whilst still getting their Stancy resurrection). They stripped Steve of his goals, his aspirations, they made him seem like he couldn’t date anyone, degraded him, swept his trauma under the rug, made him the butt of everyone joke, made it seem as if he’s uneducated and ignorant. It breaks my heart how mistreated Steve is, and by trying to force him and Nancy back together — that is the biggest injustice that can be done towards them both, but mainly to him.
Steve deserves to find himself, to find his interests, to process his trauma, to find someone that he loves beyond nostalgia, that won’t come back to him after she’s already grown and realizes that this changed version is good enough.
Nancy deserves more than that.
But Steve Harrington deserves it all.
Joe Keery is the reason Steve was kept around, and I feel like this is just awful to do to the work he’s put in at making Steve the heart of this group of characters. ❤️🥺
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