#it's much easier to feel connected & part of a community in the woods than in the city for me i think | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

me-bike · 3 months

Text

blog #5

Cincinnati has begun to make a shift in its accessibility to public transportation. However, the city still has different aspects that they could improve upon. Cincinnati already has a street car system, but it could be expanded into a more accessible route throughout the greater city area. Other ways Cincinnati could improve transportation are through bike-shares and using a subway system. In New York, the subway system is still popular and allows for city commuters to use the subway instead of driving. If Cincinnati wanted to make the city more pedestrian-friendly, they could take examples from other cities around the world that have city centers where there are no cars. This allows for more safety for those walking and riding bikes.

Cincinnati could benefit from increasing bike-share across the community. The human body is born to move. It is so important for humans to be active. One way to promote this is through the design of urban areas. Building cities that are less car-centric and that focus more on the pedestrian can have a large impact on the health and lives of people who live there. Car-dominant cities are not only bad for the environment but are also a waste of space. When a person drives alone, their car occupies a 300 times larger space than foot and bicycle traffic. While walking is a great way to get around a city, it isn’t always possible, especially somewhere like Cincinnati where there are lots of hills and different places that may be too far to walk to. This is why increasing the use of bike share in Cincinnati would be very beneficial. It keeps people active, but is faster than walking and easier for people to go longer distances. However, Cincinnati should not just add more bike-share stops. First, there is a need for more bike-friendly infrastructure. Currently, there are only 2 protected bike lanes in cincinnati. Building more bike lanes would help make it easier for people to bike around the city and would be safer. There should be E-bikes (or Me-bikes) to help people go longer distances. Cincinnati could also take inspiration from Copenhagen’s cycle Superhighway and create and above ground bike path throughout part of the city. This would encourage people to bike more. Currently, there are only 63 stations of Red Bikes throughout Cincinnati. This is a good start but is not nearly enough. There should be more bike share stations throughout Cincinnati especially downtown. They should be strategically placed near office buildings and public spaces to allow for people to bike to work and encourage people to spend time in public spaces.

https://www.inquirer.com/transportation/protected-bike-lanes-philadelphia-pennsylvania-legislation-20220603.html

Protected bike lanes like the one pictured above help people to feel safer and encourage more people to use bike-share.

One area in which Cincinnati could improve transportation infrastructure is pedestrian paths. There is a desire for walkability that is proven by the surplus of students who use the car free zone in Burnett Woods to access University of Cincinnati. These walking paths should extend beyond college students and parks as well. It has been proven that walking infrastructure unproportionately benefits lower income residents so to make Cincinnati more equitable, pathways are needed. Converting more streets in the more dense area of the city like OTR or downtown would make Cincinnati much more walkable. In addition, I75 is a major barrier for pedestrians. Dead end streets in West End could be continued as a pedestrian bridge over the highway. The same logic can be applied to neighborhoods like Camp Washington, both for I75 and the railroad yard as well. Plum Street in Downtown Cincinnati is another location that a pedestrian bridge could be added, this time over I71, connecting it with paycor stadium. Many of these communities were very interconnected before highway construction and pedestrian walkability is the first step toward connecting those communities again.

Cincinnati can also benefit from adding more routes to the streetcar that already runs throughout some parts of the city. The Connector is the name of the streetcar that runs throughout some areas of Cincinnati. This streetcar is a great resource for people in Cincinnati because it’s easily accessible with 18 stations throughout the route. The Connector is also free for whoever needs it. The current route of the Connector is a 3.6 mile loop that connects a lot of popular destinations. Expanding the Connector to areas like the University of Cincinnati could be very beneficial for a few reasons. The Connector could help transport UC students to places like UC Health, The Christ Hospital, or to the many other businesses throughout Cincinnati. Extending the route of the Connector also improves pedestrian safety, which is extremely important around the Uptown area of Cincinnati.

https://www.fox19.com/2023/06/21/cincinnati-could-add-second-streetcar-loop-connecting-uptown-neighborhoods/

Nearly one hundred years ago the city of Cincinnati indefinitely halted the development of a planned subway system that could’ve changed the course of Cincinnati’s history in the 20th century and beyond. In the first half of the century, Cincinnati was one of the largest and fastest growing cities in the nation. A city of its size needed expanded public transit as congestion was choking the city streets. Racial prejudice, financial woes, and the country’s entrance into the First World War all contributed to the decline and eventual cancellation of the project. With miles of tunnels already built beneath the city and a renewed interest in expansion within Cincinnati, reigniting the subway project could be revolutionary to the city. Following the original planned route, it could easily connect downtown with the surrounding neighborhoods and towns and enable accessible rapid transit without the use of a personal automobile. Combining the subway system with a larger regional rail network that connected the more distant suburbs and cities would only breed more intercity travel and serve to alleviate congestion in the same manner as was theorized a century ago. If Cincinnati invested in rail transportation as its future, it could truly be a leader in the nation.

https://drc.libraries.uc.edu/handle/2374.UC/702759/story.html

Another form of transport that would greatly benefit Cincinnati is a regional high speed rail system. It’s no secret that interstates 71 & 75 aren’t good for the city from a noise, environmental, or socioeconomic standpoint as it is difficult for those without cars to navigate in and out of the city. However, with no real mass-transit alternative, they are the only real connection to other population centers. High speed rail provides a promising alternative to this as it would allow for much more efficient, denser travel from Cincinnati to other cities in the area. Additionally, high speed rail provides an improved passenger experience with more optimal locations within cities, more seamless boarding, and a more spacious interior compared to something like regional flying. There has been some promising development on this front in recent years. Amtrak has recently announced a planned route expansion in Ohio, focused mainly on the Cincinnati, Columbus, Cleveland corridor with branch lines to other cities as well. The success of this expansion could have untold benefits for the transport Network of Cincinnati.

https://media.amtrak.com/wpcontent/uploads/2021/05/3CD-Corridor-Fact-Sheet-05-17-Final.pdf

0 notes

maxiwoodworks · 5 months

Text

Must-Know Tips for Choosing the Perfect Hardwood Furniture in San Francisco County

Looking for hardwood furniture San Francisco County can be overwhelming. There are so many options available. Experienced buyers struggle to find matching pieces. There are many retailers and materials to choose from. You can find high-quality options. You can find affordable options. You can find heirloom-quality craftsmanship. You can find knock-down kits. Having insider tips can make navigating selections and finding quality hallmarks much easier.

If you want to buy a nice coffee table or dining set, it's important to know about different types of wood, how the furniture is put together, and the finishes used. This knowledge will help you feel more confident when making a purchase and ensure that you choose furniture you'll be happy with for a long time. Making informed decisions is better than guessing; it helps us make good investments and avoid regrets. Follow these insider strategies to ensure you make great purchases when buying Custom Furniture. Start by deciding on the features you must have, and then evaluate the technical aspects when the furniture is delivered.

Identify Your Style

To start, it's important to clearly define your decorative style and the functions you need from your furniture. This will help narrow down your preferences. Do you want dramatic, rustic, or minimalist statement pieces? Do small spaces need compact footprints or clever multipurpose designs?

Make a list of styles, sizes, and purposes you need. This will help you find items that match your needs instead of looking without a goal. This also helps you communicate your exact desires to custom furniture designers. They can then create unique walnut dining tables, storage chests, and other items specifically for you.

Select Durable Woods

Understanding wood properties is important when choosing hardwood furniture San Francisco County. This knowledge can help you find durable options lasting for many years with the right care.

Please research different types of wood, such as oak, maple, walnut, teak, and mahogany. Compare grain patterns, density, finishes, strengths, weaknesses, and prices. Hardwood is usually stronger and more resistant to water and scratches.

However, it is also more expensive. Inspect the grains of the wood for attractive patterns. Make sure there are no knots that could weaken the structure. Simple tools can also test moisture content to ensure stability.

Evaluate Joinery and Hardware

You can check under Custom Dining Table or Custom Furniture Back to see if the parts are securely joined. This helps prevent them from becoming loose or warped over time. Nails or glue alone don't last long. Dovetail joinery connects pieces nicely. Exposed pegged mortise and tenon joints give a rustic look and become tighter as time goes on.

Heavy-duty corner blocks are used for sectionals and beds. They can withstand heavy use without wobbling. The drawer slides' smoothness and weight capacities show how good they are. They make it easy to open and close drawers without getting stuck.

Conclusion

You can easily find and choose the perfect Custom Furniture by learning about the different options and styles. And Maxi Woodworks can be your best bet for it. We will help you enjoy beautiful furniture that will last for many years. Contact our team today for specialized insight into extraordinary Sonoma County designers who create dream furniture locally.

0 notes

condorclaw · 3 years

Text

...so we could all use a little fluff after yesterday, right?

TW: description of a panic attack with referenced abuse. The scene is in bold if you want to skip over it, and is a small part of the story

Michael didn’t understand much about the world, especially since Snowchester was all he could remember.

What he did know was that there were both kind people, and people who were not so nice.

Michael’s dads knew what was best, he had realized. Many times Michael had been approached by strangers in his own room, with dadboo swooping in to clutch him to his chest protectively. Michael didn’t know what was so bad about some of these strangers, but in his dad’s arms, he felt protected, so he figured dadboo knew something he didn’t.

Dadboo wasn’t the only one in Michael’s life who he felt fully safe around. There was his other parent, dadbee. Dadbee wasn’t as tall or as strange as dadboo was, but dadbee would stand with dadboo, a weapon clutched in his hand whenever a stranger would invade the house. If Michael listened to Technoblade’s metaphors in the possible future, he’d look back on this time and compare his fathers to a sword and shield.

There was another important guardian in Michael’s life too: his uncle Tommy.

Tommy had hair that reminded the kid of gold, fangs that were as sharp as piglin tusks, and always some kind of mischievous glint in his eye. When Michael’s dads were away, Tommy came to watch over him, something Michael had grown to look forward to.

Ever since the two met, they had a strong connection, something that was cemented with Tommy knowing Michael’s native language, being able to communicate with him better. Tommy was also teaching it to his fathers too, dadbee getting good enough to ask Michael what he wanted for dinner, and being able to understand Michael’s answers, while dadboo was the best at giving one-word instructions.

His family was so cool, and Michael would tell Foolish Jr. about them whenever the little totem came over for a playdate. Just like Michael, Foolish Jr. had an uncle as well, but unlike Michael, Foolish Jr. had never seen his own, hearing that he had been taken somewhere secret. Michael felt sorry for his best friend, while also being happy that he had such an awesome uncle himself.

Tommy was even missing an eye like him! Michael didn’t know how he lost it, and whenever the piglin asked, Tommy would just mumble something in response about “green”, and saying that Michael could hear about it when he was older. Michael didn’t mind, it just made him feel closer to the blonde.

The world was confusing, and things didn’t make that much sense yet, but Michael knew that he always had dadboo, dadbee, and uncle Tommy by his side to protect him.

“You two have fun, okay?”

Michael watched as Tubbo tried forcing a large metallic object into his bag, even beginning to stomp down on it before Ranboo ran in frantically.

“Tubbo, we just need to check on the borders of Snowchester, we don’t need-”

“Nukes can come in handy, Ranboo!”

“HOW!?”

Tommy rolled his eye in mock exaggeration, glancing down at Michael, who turned his head to stare back. “Your dads are never getting out of here, guess I can’t babysit tonight.”

Michael stomped his hoof in frustration, letting out a loud snort of annoyance, which caught both of his dads’ attention.

“Tommy, what did you tell him?” Ranboo’s eyebrow raised in suspicion as his eyes gazed down at the huffy piglin.

“That the two of you are slower than the Eggpire’s “ultimate takeover”.” The pout on Tubbo’s face was enough to make Tommy burst into his signature laughter, the couple eventually joining in on enjoying the joke. Michael didn’t understand what was happening, but began to giggle in little snorts, not wanting to be left out.

“Okay, okay. I think we are taking a while,” Ranboo muttered, tilting his head to look down at Tubbo accusingly. The ram hybrid stared back, sticking out his tongue in mock aggression.

“Don’t you want to be safe? We could run into a pack of wolves and have to defend ourselves.”

“Tubbo, I think the nuke killing us is more likely to happen than being killed by mobs-”

Michael let out another frustrated cry, beginning to hop in place and slam his hooves down on the floorboards. Ranboo and Tubbo both looked at him, ears folding back sheepishly.

“Sorry,” Tubbo mumbled in piglin, rubbing the back of his neck. Ranboo nodded along with that, bending down to rub Michael’s head affectionately. “Okay, we get it. We’re going now. Have a good time, Michael.” Ranboo gently booped Michael’s snout with his own, standing up once the piglin squealed happily,

“Ranboooo, we have to make a stop at the warehouse,” Tubbo tugged on his husband’s jacket once the enderman stood.

“Tubbo, we’ll waste time-”

“Do you want the nuke to be left here with our son then?”

“...okay, w-”

“GOODBYE ALREADY!” Tommy let out a battle cry, shoving the two parents through the door and locking it behind them. Michael chirped happily, clapping his hooves at the amusing sight. Even inside, they could still hear Ranboo and Tubbo talking faintly. Uncle and nephew listened closely, waiting until the voices could no longer be heard.

“Okay, those two are gone now. We now have the whole night to ourselves.” Tommy turned, giving Michael a fanged grin. The piglin began jumping on the spot excitedly, flapping his stubby arms.

Tommy had been surprisingly good at managing Michael, even understanding how to keep him happy while making sure he was safe. The lack of a language barrier made everything a lot easier too, but even Tubbo and Ranboo were surprised at how well Tommy knew how to do a lot of household tasks that parents normally took over. The two of them had once come home to a spotless house, Tommy telling them that he needed to kill energy through cleaning after putting Michael to bed.

Currently, Tommy was preparing a bowl of steamed carrots for Michael, keeping an eye on the piglin playing on the floor while also focusing on the pot boiling. Michael’s favourite food was potatoes, but his parents had told him that Tommy didn’t really like those much, so he had to have something else. Michael’s next favourite was carrots, which was something Tommy did like too, and he always made them the way Michael liked.

On the floor, Michael was playing with his stuffed bee. It was a gift from his dadbee that Michael loved squeezing into, and it was even the size of the piglin himself. It was rather silly to see him clutching onto a giant bee, but it was also a very cute sight.

Michael pretended to attack the large plush, leaping into it at full speeds and rolling across the floor like he always did. Tommy chuckled at the sight, removing the pot from the stove and turning it off. “Be careful, little man. Tubbo’ll kill me if something happens to you.” He muttered light-heartedly.

Michael oinked in understanding, rolling his bee across the floor once more. Upon doing so however, a thread caught onto the edge of one of the floorboards, unravelling the bee slightly and exposing the stuffing. Michael stared at the plush toy quietly, his eye wide as tears started to spill from it.

Setting aside the carrots for draining, Tommy quickly turned around upon hearing a panicked squeal. He spotted Michael clutching the ripped bee close to his chest, sad little oinks escaping from him. Tommy slowly made his way over to his nephew, crouching down to see him better.

“Did Mr. Bee get hurt?” Michael nodded, oinking out what happened to his favourite toy. Tommy turned, glaring at the floor with a huff.

“How dare you fuckin’ hurt him. Mr. Bee never did anything to you, stupid pieces of wood.”

Michael giggled a little, tears still falling from his eyes. Tommy turned back to the piglin after “getting angry” at the floor, an understanding smile appearing on his face. “Michael, do you know where Tubbo keeps the rainbow string with the tiny stabby sticks?”

The piglin gave a curt nod, pointing to one of the chests along the walls. Tommy stood up, stretching his body before leaning down and gently picking up Michael. Michael was placed in his high chair, with Tommy bringing over the bowl of drained carrots. “You eat these, okay? I’ll have the coolest surprise for you when you’re done.”

Michael’s eye widened again and he quickly began to gulp down his food, Mr. Bee forgotten for now. Tommy let out a panicked laugh, quickly taking the bowl from Michael and stared at his nephew eye-to-eye. “You only get the surprise if you eat slowly, okay? It’s not safe to eat that fast.”

Michael frowned, folding his arms and muttering something.

“Woah, and where did YOU hear that word from?”

Another snort.

“...okay, I’ll admit that I did say that.”

Michael’s lip curled in in satisfaction as he stuck his tongue out at his uncle, Tommy placing his hand to his chest and gasping dramatically. “Wow, you’re so fuckin’ rude. I can’t believe you’d do this to your own flesh and blood.”

Michael pointed to the right side of his head.

“...flesh and bone. Stop being so sassy tonight.”

Another stuck-out tongue.

As Michael began to eat, Tommy looked through the chest his nephew had been pointing to, finding the needles and threat he had been looking for. The blonde gave a fist pump in quiet celebration, heading back to where Michael had left the stuffed bee behind. He sat down and picked up the plush, surprised at how light it was. With his materials there, Tommy began to sew up the toy.

Wilbur had taught him how to sew during the Pogtopia days, when Tommy's clothes kept getting torn due to running from the Manberg guards. Wilbur eventually became far too busy to teach Tommy more, which was when Niki stepped in to continue teaching Tommy, and started teaching Tubbo as well.

Tommy didn't have the best childhood. Actually, that was an understatement. Tommy had one of the worst childhoods possible, with the constant threat of war and death looming over his head as he charged into battle with his family and friends. It was the worst experience Tommy could have ever gotten, and even though the wars were over, there were still the rising threats of new ones. Ones that he'd probably be forced to participate in.

But for now, everything was okay, and that's all Tommy wanted.

Michael was a bright young lad, appearing to adopt similar mannerisms to Tommy's own. While he'd never say it to anybody, Tommy was incredibly fond of his nephew. Michael had a loving family, and a wonderful home to live in. He didn't have to care about wars, or being exiled, or being imprisoned, or-

Tommy felt his heart rate drop for a moment, accidently pricking himself with the needle he was sewing with. "Shit," he muttered, quickly shaking his hand to alleviate the sting.

Michael looked over at him, hearing the curse. His ears were perked up and he oinked inquisitively. Tommy responded with a thumbs-up, letting out a fake laugh. Michael copied his actions, giving a similar thumbs-up motion with his hooves.

As Michael continued to eat, Tommy continued to sew, his mind suddenly a lot more crowded than before.

Michael slurped up the last of his meal, licking his lips happily. Carrots were always filling, especially when Tommy made them.

The piglin began to let out chirrs, gazing in Tommy's direction as he wiggled in his seat. Tommy looked up from what he was working on, eye softening when he saw how energetic and happy Michael was after the meal.

"Alright, I'm coming."

After removing Michael from his chair, Tommy brought him over to where he had previously played with his bee, setting the boy down carefully on the floor. "You ready for the best fuckin' surprise ever?"

Michael nodded rapidly, clapping his hooves and flapping his legs.

"Shut your eye."

Michael did so, one of his hooves rushing to cover up his functioning eye. The other hoof covered up his skull eye, despite not being able to see anything out of it. Tommy smiled fondly, placing the stuffed bee in front of his nephew. The bee was sewn up shut, a large red bow tied around its thick neck.

“You can look now.”

Michael removed his hooves and immediately started shrieking with excitement. He rushed forward, almost flattening himself into the plush toy. Tommy stepped back, folding his arms and leaning against the wall with a smirk. “Is your uncle the coolest, or what? Don’t answer that, I know I am.”

It was funny how despite being different species, Michael looked so much like Tubbo in the moment. Tommy recalled a similar situation with Tubbo that happened in the ravine of Pogtopia, and how it happened shortly after Quackity had joined the group. Quackity had gone to secretly fetch items from his old office, returning to Pogtopia with them alongside Tubbo’s beloved bee plush that had been abandoned on the former vice-president’s desk.

The bee was ragged and torn, but a still-recovering Tubbo had been happy beyond tears to have it back. He held it all day, with him only letting go as he slept that night. Tommy had slid the bee gently out of the older boy’s arms and tried to stitch it back up. It didn’t go as well as he had hoped, but Niki had found him underneath the moonlight, and was the one to assist in repairing the plush. Tommy had made Niki promise that she wouldn’t tell Tubbo it was him, but looking back at some of those messy cross-stitches, Tubbo probably figured it out within seconds.

Upon waking up, Tubbo found his newly-repaired bee and began to bleat excitedly, clutching the toy close to his chest and burying his face in it. It had been a moment of joy in the darkness of their situation, and certainly lifted Tommy’s own spirits.

Michael was acting just like his father did then, the memory causing a soft smile across the blonde’s features. Tommy was so lost in his thoughts though, he didn’t notice Michael rushing towards him. In the piglin’s excitement, he had forgotten the one rule his parents had set up for him.

He grabbed a hold of Tommy’s leg, squeezing it tightly in a hug.

Tommy's eyes shot open at the sudden contact, the pressure on his leg constricting him, preventing him from moving it. He couldn't move his leg, he couldn't move his leg, he couldn’t move his leg.

His voice caught in his throat, the walls of it tightening as his breathing sped up. He couldn't scream for help, he couldn't cry out for anybody. All that was there was the searing pain of his wounds as his body was scraped along the ground, Dream's voice in his ears that Tommy couldn't run, that Tommy couldn't beg, that Tommy couldn't leave.

Michael had looked up at his uncle at that point, suddenly aware that the mood in the room had shifted drastically, and still clutching the leg. Tommy returned Michael’s look, trying to weakly shake his leg, which had become numb.

“Michael. Leg.”

It was two words, but Michael immediately realized what he had done, the piglin stepping back a few feet with an apologetic squeal. Unfortunately, Tommy’s head was now spinning, and couldn’t make sense of the room. He was real, he was real, he was real. He wasn’t dead, he wasn’t back in the prison, his head-

Tommy collapsed to the ground, making Michael jolt. Michael started oinking nervously, trying to find out what was going on, and what he could do. Tommy’s head felt like it was going to split open, and he shut his eye tightly, hands clawing at the wooden floor as he tried to communicate with Michael, making sure not to scare him even more. “Brain’s upset.”

Tommy wasn’t able to open his eye to see what Michael’s response was, but Michael was frantically looking around for something that could help. When his parents were upset, he would curl up next to them, snuggling into their sides, but he couldn’t do this with Tommy. His fathers’ one rule had been to never touch Tommy, especially if his uncle wasn’t looking, and Michael had broken it on accident.

Going over everything he liked to do when scared, Michael’s eye landed on his bee plush. Whenever he was worried, he liked to hug it. Would his uncle like doing that too? Nervously, he tried nudging it towards Tommy, little by little. When he thought it was in good-enough range, he let out gentle honks, trying to get his uncle’s attention. It took a few minutes, but Tommy’s eye eventually opened slightly. It looked glazed and unfocused, glancing around the room for a moment before landing on the soft toy placed in front of him.

Slowly, he let go of the floor, the process taking several minutes for him to even reach out for it, but Michael waited the whole time. He gave the toy one move delicate shove, allowing it to roll until it stopped in front of Tommy with about a foot of distance between them. Once more, Tommy grabbing the plush took a while, his arm trembling, and his face pale, but eventually he got a grip of it, pulling it into his chest as quickly as he could.

“Thanks,” Tommy muttered weakly, Michael’s ears rising as he smiled.

It was about a half-hour later before Tommy fully calmed down, the comfort of the bee plushie combined with the gentle sounds of Michael’s chirrs lulling him into a more comfortable mindset.

Weakly he got up, the bee plush sitting in his lap as he rubbed away the tear stains. Tommy glanced over to his side, noticing Michael watching him carefully. His head was cocked to the side, and though he seemed happy that Tommy was up, his eyes showed worry for the older boy.

“I’m great, Michael,” Tommy lied a little. He was certainly feeling a lot better, but Michael probably wouldn’t understand if Tommy said he still felt a little disoriented. It was best to reassure the kid more than anything else. Smiling back at his nephew, Tommy carefully handed the bee plush back to him, the worry in Michael’s eyes being replaced with relief and joy.

With a grunt, Tommy hoisted himself up, praying that his arms or legs wouldn't give out again like they did before. He was still shaken up, and definitely not wanting to come in contact with anything else at the moment, his skin feeling cold and exposed from the aftermath. Michael watched him closely, taking a few steps away whenever Tommy would stumble in place, and looked like he was about to fall over. Letting out a sigh, Tommy looked over at Michael, gently smiling at him. "We could use a break. Do you have anything you want to do?"

Michael practically beamed.

"Hello~!" Tubbo slammed open the door, his mouth pulled into a cheeky grin.

Ranboo followed behind his husband, letting out an exhausted yawn as he carried a stack of leather almost up to his chin (and for Ranboo's height, that was saying something). "The world's most tired man is back, along with the living embodiment of a firework hyped up on crack."

"Ranboo, don't say that," Tubbo frowned, placing his hands on his hips. "You're nowhere near enough to be as colorful as a firework is."

"Are you implying that you're the tired one here?" Ranboo set down the stack of leather, beginning to brush remaining bits of meat from the leather off of his hands. "Because it seems like I had to do all the work."

"Hey, you're the one who said we should get leather!"

"And that to YOU somehow translated to "let's kill every cow in a four-mile radius". Now I've got gunk all over me."

"We-"

"OH MY GOD, WILL YOU BOTH PLEASE FUCKING SHUT UP?" Tommy yelled from where he sat on the carpet, spinning a plastic spinner that landed on the color red. Michael oinked in agreement, trying to reach the red spot on the plastic mat with his hind leg. Tubbo and Ranboo's conversation was immediately forgotten, the two watching in awe as their son was playing Twister.

"C'mon, big M. You've got this," Tommy encouraged. When Michael wasn't looking, Tommy carefully slid the mat closer together, making the spot reachable for him. Michael placed his leg down, letting out a squeal of victory. Tommy whooped excitedly, Michael raised a hand to give Tommy an air high-five, when he slipped and fell down, squealing in surprise.

"I know last time with Battleship was the weirdest I thought this could get, but I literally have no clue why you keep teaching him games out of his age range." Tubbo muttered, confused, before taking off his uniform and hanging it up on one of the hooks. Ranboo nodded, following Tubbo's actions with his own coat.

"Michael's a trooper!" Tommy folded his arms with satisfaction. "Next time I'm teaching him chess."

"Do you even know how to play chess?"

"Um, of course I do."

"Then why-"

"Okay!" Ranboo clapped his hands together, interrupting the conversation before it spiraled once more. "I assume you two had a good time?"

Tommy and Michael looking away from the couple awkwardly wasn't a good sign.

"Well, it was a good time," Tommy began to explain. "There was just a little accident though. I'll tell you two about it later when, y'know, somebody certain's asleep. But all you need to know is that Michael handled it really well." The blonde looked down at the piglin, flashing a fanged grin. Michael returned the smile, standing up on his stubby legs and rushing to Tubbo to give him a hug.

"How was the patrol thingy?" Tommy stood up as well, stretching as best as he could.

Ranboo and Tubbo were now the ones that looked away awkwardly.

"So somebody," Tubbo began, itching his cheek. "Might have suggested that we should get leather while we were out."

"And SOMEBODY," Ranboo flashed Tubbo a glance, folding his arms. "Decided to commit a mass cow genocide-"

"You know what! That story's not important right now!" Tubbo waved his hands frantically, laughing awkwardly as he avoided eye contact with a glaring Ranboo. "The point is, we didn't end up doing what we wanted to do-"

"Wonder who's fault that is-"

"-SO WE DECIDED TO DO IT ANOTHER TIME!" Tubbo finished, looking like he was about to start sweating buckets. "So, if it's okay, Tommy… could you maybe look after him again tomorrow?"

Tommy grinned again, nodding his head several times. "You can count on it, Tubbs. We definitely need to fuckin' talk about what happened tonight first, but hell yeah! Sounds good to me!"

"If you tell me Michael killed somebody, you're immediately fired as a babysitter and an uncle." Ranboo lifted up Michael from Tubbo's side, allowing the piglin to grab at his horn.

"Michael, if you ever kill somebody, don't tell your dads." Tommy whispered to Michael in piglin, fully knowing what was coming next once Michael giggled.

"Tommy, what did you say to him."

"Manslaughter is pog."

"YOU DID NOT-"

#*stares at word count* this is two times longer than the previous one what the fuck am I okay #anyway have more uncle Tommy and Michael content because I adore them and am manifesting wholesome canon interaction #dream smp #dsmp #c!tommy #c!tubbo #c!ranboo #michael #michael the piglin #c!michael #my writing #my post

292 notes · View notes

cc-tinslebee · 3 years

Text

Okay, so, about a month ago, my brain just conjured up probably the most random au possible: Legally Blonde Adam Banks/banksway au.

Believe me, it's as chaotic as it sounds, but lowkey, I'm kind of in love with it.

Adam never joins the Ducks because there aren't any Ducks to join. Bombay never had to do community service with District Five so there was no one to realise that Adam was on the wrong team all along. He continues to play for the Hawks and, eventually, the Eden Hall Warriors, never getting the chance to become the well-rounded individual we know him as because he's never known anything other than his rich privilege and the "win at all costs" mentality. He ends up going to college on a hockey scholarship and not straight to the NHL or the AHL (shocking, I know). While he's unsure of his major and where his life is heading, he finds solace in the fraternity he joins, which, by some sheer twist of fate, Jesse and Guy have also miraculously joined.

And his life is perfect for a while. He's the star player on yet another school's hockey team, all of his fraternity brothers adore him (though, it took a bit for Jesse to warm up to him), and his secret, not-really-official thing with his former teammate is going swimmingly. (Not to slander my boy, but I was picturing Larson for the role of Warner, purely because the alternative seems to be Rick Riley and that's kind of an unsettling image-- though, maybe that's the point?)

But then his secret boyfriend breaks up with him because, with his high aspirations in life, he needs to be "more serious." And dating Adam Banks, a guy in a stereotypical fraternity who only really knows hockey, in 2001 isn't exactly the white-picket-fence life he's looking for if he's going to be a politician.

And since this non-Duck Adam clearly doesn't have the braincells that canon Adam does, in his devastation, he decides it's a brilliant idea to prove that he is serious by applying to Harvard Law. His parents try to talk him out of it, since they want him to pursue his dreams of hockey, but being a lawyer is a respectable career so they can't exactly argue with him.

He gets accepted thanks to Jesse, Guy, and the rest of his fraternity helping him study for the LSAT and keeping him on track. He's trying his darndest when he gets to Harvard, but (despite his struggle not being as significant as Elle Woods'), not a lot of people take him seriously as an aspiring lawyer, considering him a meathead jock who only got in because of daddy's money.

And that's about the time he meets Linda, who he vaguely remembers from his time at Eden Hall. What he doesn't remember is her being so competitive, because she's deliberately beating him at every turn, just trying (and kind of succeeding) at making him look like a fool. To make matters worse, all of the sudden, she's engaged to his ex-boyfriend, who is very adamant about never telling anyone that he and Adam were more than friends (because, you know, early 2000s homophobia and such).

But things get a little brighter for Adam when he meets Charlie, an undergrad teacher's assistant who gives him all sorts of advice about surviving the school. He introduces him to Professor Bombay, who Charlie claims is the only reason he survived his first year and quickly becomes Adam's favourite teacher, and Charlie's childhood friend Connie, who aspires to be a state senator one day. Charlie's charismatic and even if he's not the most well-liked person at Harvard, Adam feels a weight lifted off his shoulders once he becomes friends with him and Connie. Things become a little easier.

Just before he and Charlie start getting really close, Adam meets Casey at a local diner on a day he's feeling particularly upset and alone, and the two start bonding almost immediately. (He bullshits his way into scaring an ex-husband of hers with legal repercussions he has no idea about and she basically adopts him in return.) It takes him an embarrassing amount of time to realise that it's not just a coincidence that Casey and Charlie share the same last name, which results in poor Adam feeling extremely embarrassed for not connecting the dots sooner while Charlie's having the time of his life teasing him for it. Eventually, when the dust of that settles, Charlie and Adam join forces to set Casey and Bombay up, their schemes borderline ridiculous at times, but they'rere not exactly failing.

And after realising he isn't the Warriors moron she thought he was for going on five years, Linda starts warming up to Adam, which is surprisingly nice? She figures out on her own that there used to be something between him and her fiancé, and is more understanding of Adam than she is mad. Linda actually spills to him the lengths Adam's ex had to go through to actually get into Harvard, aligning more with the rumours about Adam's acceptance being bought than having the aptitude for the law that Linda and Adam share. (This may be me saying Linda and Adam friendship rights, what of it-- /lh)

To make things all the better, Bombay chooses Adam, Linda, Connie, Charlie, and Adam's ex to be on his legal team for a murder case he's responsible for (and while he knows about Adam and Charlie's ploys to hook him up with Charlie's mom, they're his favourites, so he doesn't say anything).

And this is just so much better than anything he had before. After all the initial unpleasantness, Linda and Connie become some of the most genuine friends he's ever had. He misses Guy and Jesse, of course, and he'd never take them for granted, but back when he was with them at the fraternity, a part of him was still being as superficial as he had been in middle and high school. Being authentic for once in his life is liberating.

And Charlie's just about the most considerate person Adam's ever met. Adam doesn't even mind when Charlie teases him over his absurd and juvenile insults because he's just this source of light for Adam, supporting him and always pushing him to be the best version of himself. His ex hardly even exists when Charlie's around because his energy is just so contagious that Adam starts falling for him long before he even realises it. (And when Jesse and Guy come to visit, there's a moment where it all clicks and the four of them realise their history together, however brief. I strongly maintain that they'd be that Starkid meme: "Fucking Hawks? We hated you guys!" "We hated ourselves!" But it does make Adam realise how much better off he would've been if he had Charlie and his team when he was little instead of the Hawks, and it just further makes him understand that people like Larson and Rick Riley just aren't worth it.)

But there's also another revelation Adam goes through. Between helping Casey, his rigorous studies, and his position working with/for Bombay, something just clicks for Adam. He likes being able to help people, fighting for the good guys who may not have the resources they need to be properly defended. Practicing law calls to him in the same way hockey did; it's the feeling of knowing this is what he's meant to do. He still loves hockey, he always will, but it helps him finally grasp that there's a world for him outside of it; when hockey ends for him, there's something equally as rewarding that he can pursue, which was something he never thought he would have.

I haven't a single coherent thought about this au past that point except for these little inklings of an ending--

There's absolutely no SA scene like the movie had; Bombay's just Adam and Charlie's favourite teacher and those are his boys, so he's going to make sure they succeed as if his life depends on it.

With that said, Bombay believes in them both enough to let them finish the case because with their joined determination/stubbornness (and Adam's in with the defendant), Adam and Charlie are a force to be reckoned with and he knows it.

After a handful of comedic failures, they do end up succeeding at their attempts to set Casey and Bombay up, and they start living together sometime during the kids' Junior year :) (All I'm asking is for one (1) story with a Casey/Gordon endgame-- I just think they're neat--)

Linda dumps her fiancé (as she should) and goes on to live her best wlw life as a successful lawyer. (If I'm not mistaken, Linda's actress actually is a lawyer, which is a pretty cool fun fact!!)

Adam and Linda's ex gets the Warner ending because, man, screw that guy /lh (rip to Larson if this is him, I'm sure you'll get a nice endgame in some other universe, king)

Honorary mention for Connie, who was going long distance with Guy this entire time to everyone but Jesse's shock, and they get their Game Changers endgame of State Senator Connie Moreau and stay-at-home dad Guy Germaine with their seven -- sorry, three -- children :)

Adam's an absolute bundle of nerves after graduation, which definitely concerns Charlie. So, when he asks if he's okay, Adam starts nervously monologuing about their time together until he runs out of breath. He ends it by proposing to him, and Charlie smiles so surely at him when he says yes. They both become damn good public defenders and stay engaged until the point they can legally get married, but they're practically husbands long before that happens.

Also, if I did my math right (which I should’ve, it’s my entire basis for my Share Your Address series), the Ducks’ would have the same graduating class year as Elle Woods anyway (2004), which is pretty neat!

Thank you once again for listening to me ramble :)

#i just think they're neat that's all--#full disclosure: i have not listened to/seen the musical yet but I have heard very good things about it #adam banks #charlie conway #gordon bombay #linda the mighty ducks #connie moreau #banksway #charlie x adam #the mighty ducks #casey x gordon

58 notes · View notes

jostepherjoestar · 3 years

Text

An Educational Favour VII

ENDING!

NOTsfw // FEM! reader & pronouns

warnings/notes: 18+ content, minors dni, risotto x reader alone finally, interc0urse, soft, romantic, intimate, face riding, scent kink? a little, squirting (kind of), ris is a service top don’t @ me, aftercare with ris, u can read into what risotto is trying to say/do readers 👀

part 1- 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

PART VII: 🖤Risotto🖤

It took some time to finally assess what you’d learned over the span of time since starting your educational adventure with your colleagues. After every session you had been left with your own thoughts, albeit in a haze, but it gave you time to relax and reflect. Illuso taught you to be confident and ask for what you want and shy Pesci made you put those communication skills to good use as you received one of the most intense orgasms you’d ever experienced. Damn that man has some great skills; it still makes you shudder to think back to your thighs clamped around his face, trembling in pleasure. Ghiaccio showed you how fun it could be to be hammered into the mattress while also desperately trying to make your capo feel good. Unlike Formaggio, who let the slow tempo take over and took his time to make you feel amazing. Then Melone who wasn’t afraid to get involved with Risotto as well, to let inhibitions go and indulge together. And your last, Prosciutto, showing you what it takes to handle being an obedient sub, which may or may not have gone just as rough as you had hoped. It had been very educational to say the least but it also made you realise how much you appreciated Risotto’s care. He’d been there the whole way through, getting his needs met in a different way, building up even more patience and strength. Maybe that’s what he’d taught you: sometimes the wait is worth it. And oh God did you want the wait to be over! It had been a month since your last lesson, the roughest so far, and you ached to be intimate again. This time with the very man you’d been craving since the start: Risotto.

For a while you pondered if you should just ask one of your teammates to help satiate that yearning, but it felt unfair. Everyone’s had their fun with you, except Risotto. So you remained patient, sure that your broody capo was very busy and trying to find the right time to squeeze you into his packed schedule. But the days kept dragging on, every call for a meeting squashing your hopes and desires when its subject was merely a new hit.

Over the few weeks you had been waiting you tried your very best to go the extra mile; willingly taking on a big chunk of paperwork so Risotto didn’t have to work such long nights, cleaning up his office, bringing him drinks and snacks throughout the day. It didn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated but his thanks were never more than just the word and a nod. He tried to hide his usual broody manner from lifting when you were around. His shoulders would relax and the tight grip on his pen would ease up, that little crease knitting his lovely brows together becoming ever so slightly less dented as he could breathe a soft sigh of relief with you near. Of course he won’t tell, or rather show you just how much he appreciates all you do for him; at least not yet.

If Risotto was truthful to himself, the wait wasn’t a planned one. Work kept piling up and your tired capo needed every bit of rest he could grasp. Knowing how good and obedient you had been with Prosciutto, Risotto knew you could handle it; well at least a bit. Your dark eyed superior wasn’t planning on anything as extreme as the former session, quite the opposite actually. He needed it to be perfect: the right day, the right mood and the right time.

And if your capo was being even more truthful to himself, his thoughts were starting to turn on him. He would be your last lesson. And the last of his men that had already quite successfully showed you how well they could indulge that eager curiosity. The final. The pressure of having to somehow top all other orgasms, top all other deep thrusts and caresses… it nagged at his mind. Pulling at the smallest insecurities that he’d freeze up when he finally had you all to himself. That he won’t be as amazing as your depraved fantasies had conjured him up to be. Even your lovely smile, your eyes that glimmered and had fireworks sparking behind them with every quick glance could only ease his mind so much.

The great Risotto Nero doubted his own expertise. The imposing, brooding, domineering capo fighting his very own powerful battle under that silly little jingly hat. Oh, what have you done to him?

For once you weren’t busy, lounging on the couch in the shared living room resting next to Melone. He’s become a bit of a confidant since your night with him, lending his ears so you could air any of your worries and more than gladly airing his own to you. Along with lots of jokes and talks late into the night, the whole ordeal had brought you closer to the usually more emotionally distant man. He’d opened up a lot more which you greatly appreciated since he’d already known so much about you.

At the moment you were just enjoying your rest, the tv in the background offering ambient noise as you nearly drifted off from the relaxed atmosphere, still a bit tired from your previous hit that strained your body. Melone idly talked about anything and nothing, the cadence of his smooth voice bringing you closer and closer to sleep. Your eyes fluttered shut for what felt like mere seconds but as it turns out you’d been taking a nap for a little while.

You were roused from the comfort of slumber by strong arms holding you close to their owner’s chest which felt well built and defined. They felt somewhat familiar in your haze, not sure if it was Melone. Too tired to really care you mumbled some indiscernible babbling, trying to thank whoever it was that so kindly laid you down on your bed.

Wait. This wasn’t your bed, the covers felt satiny, too soft and slippery to be your own thick comforter you liked to huddle in. It smelled completely different too. It smelled like… Risotto. You turned and breathed into the soft pillow, moaning in satisfaction as his smell engulfed your senses making your head feel even foggier. If you could bathe in it, you gladly would. Drenched in the most wonderful essence that clouded your thoughts in a hazy bliss.

“Mhh Ris? S’that you?” you mumbled sweetly as you came up for air, slowly opening your eyes again to assess the room you were currently in. You sat up a little, supported on your elbows, blinking at the darker hues of his surprisingly monochromatic interior. Furniture remained a dark stained wood, nearing a cool black while the walls were kept a light grey offering a lighter feel to the heavier placements of his blocky closet and bed. It was simple and straightforward, offering a seeming simplicity that contained more than it let on.

The room only lit by the soft light of the setting sun that streamed through his thinly veiled windows. As you scanned the room for any sign of him you felt a large figure loom right next to you, a little ways past the square bedside table. “Oh there you are.” A small smile gracing your lovely features, eyes meeting his darker ones that glistened with a certain excitedness you hadn’t seen before. Risotto was getting easier to read as time went on, small hints becoming clearer to his mood and thoughts, leading you to connect the dots on your own.

“All my meetings got cancelled for the day. Our boss had a sudden personal emergency.” his voice rang out even deeper than usual, the sound shivering through your core and straight into the slick building between your thighs. There was a certain relieved salacious hint to his tone, indicating it was finally time to get ravished. The long wait was finally over.

Heat rushed to your cheeks in abandon as the realisation set in. Risotto moved from his previous spot to cage you in his form, denting the mattress further with his added weight. His domineering figure offered no way out from under him, a dark gaze glued to yours as he drank in your expression. So cute and flustered, eyes wide in anticipation, a single touch could melt you. Risotto’s previous anxieties and insecurities were hushed and silenced by your innocent little stare, reminded of just how much he wanted you. Somehow you had still retained a sliver of chasteness, even after your trail of debauchery.

You swallowed thickly, too intoxicated and mesmerised by the realisation of the situation to initiate any further action. Even now you’d gladly wait for your patient capo to strike. “Wh-what are we doing today, Risotto?” Throat starting to feel dry under his continued glare, afraid to lick your plump lips to wet them again.

Risotto inched closer, his beautifully angular jaw relaxed of any previous stress moving ever closer to meet you just a breath away. Lingering over your lips he breathed in gently, as if sniffing his favourite cabernet sauvignon, basking in its essence but only for it to be yours. The one he’s smelled over and over but could never fully take in, for it was never yours alone, there was always another muddling your true essence.

“So sweet…” he mumbled, his breath tickling your lips that ached to meet his, to finally get engulfed by the man you’d craved for so long. Deciding to take a sip, sampling his sweet summer wine, his lips finally met yours. They were soft, softer than expected. Even more unexpected is how carefully he moved them against yours. For a moment he roamed cautiously as if to make sure this was really happening. You were glad he kept his pace slow, his deep kiss nearing a full short circuit of all your brain functions.

Never had you felt this before, an act so common making you feel like you’d entered the gates of heaven itself to be engulfed by anything you’d ever dreamed of. You matched his tempo, letting his tongue linger between your lips, offering a way in if he so liked. And he did, moving it with similar care and motivation, tenderly taking the lead but only to please you further. A moan escaped into his mouth, vibrating through him while your hand reached up to caress the side of his face, into his hair. He’d already forgone his usual hat, letting his silvery locks roam free. He leaned into your touch, gently rubbing a small thumb across his cheekbones and jawline. Mapping out his features in case you’d ever forget.

It made him break his kiss, slowly letting your head fall back into the pillow, admiring how plump your lips had gotten and how he’d love for them to never leave his again. No words were needed to communicate, your bodies told stories and iliads by themselves like they had been doing it for ages.

You both regained your breaths, continuing to drink up each other's flustered expressions. He looked so at ease, so at home, it made you wish he could feel like this forever. As if you weighed nothing more than a feather, he curled his arms beneath you and hoisted you up into him, cradling you and letting you wrap your legs around his hips.

To your surprise he fell onto his back, returning to his lustrous dark satin sheets with you resting on his hips. He never for a moment looked smaller or any less in charge, leading the way of your movements, knowing just what to do and how it could please you. You felt yourself get more and more excited as time went by. Your core feeling ready to explode before much was even done. You rested your hands on his chest, feeling his large length strain against his trousers, a reminder of your final challenge.

Your cheeky streak never left you, not even in this thick heavy fog of desire that seemed to permeate your very beings. You shifted in your seat to rub your clothed wetness against his aching length. The movement alone made him slightly hitch his breath, eyebrow twitching up in a playful manner to ask if you knew what type of game you’d gotten yourself into. You smirked back to let him know just how ready you’ve been to start, commencing once again with a snap of your hips. The move itself making you shiver out a moan as his girth slid perfectly between your folds, rubbing deliciously against your sore clit.

It was as if the sound awakened a new sense of hunger in the man underneath you, his eyes glazed over in lust knowing that his cock made you mewl so sweetly. That only he could truly satisfy that hunger you’ve been trying to satiate with his teammates. The thought alone made his cock twitch, springing him back into action with a great need to hear you whimper out his name.

He lifted himself up to meet your cute little face again, a sit up so casual like it caused his muscled core no effort. You couldn’t help yourself, bringing your lips back to his for a hurried kiss, a quick one to settle the craving. “Get undressed, you’re riding my face.” he demanded, kissing your jaw. His voice so closely against your neck sending yet another jolt of pleasure straight through you. Walls clenching around nothingness and awaiting his tongue.

You quickly undressed, discarding your clothes as fast as possible while trying not to look all too desperate, which was quite difficult because of his previous order to ride his face. He took off his top slow and deliberate, letting you gawk at his muscled arms and torso as they contorted. Risotto bathed in the attention, normally not one to overtly want people to stare or to crave others’ attention that much. But watching your eyes rake over his torso, your eager little glint shining brighter than any light in the room only made him want to indulge you more.

For now he’d keep his trousers on, taking in your lovely form that sat on his hips. Your plush thighs spilling over him so invitingly, the curve of your sides leading the way to your breasts that lay sweetly against your ribcage, nipples stiffened from all the excitement. He wanted to cherish every single bit of you, give every patch of soft skin the attention it deserved. If he was lucky enough he’d get the time today, and many times after to complete that wish.

It didn’t feel embarrassing to let him stare at you, his crimson eyes were so gentle when they took you in, engraving every curve and mound into his memories. Surprised that there could be even more appreciation for you than previously thought.

Risotto’s large hand reached for your hip, taking in your shape and giving it a soft knead, as if to feel how pliable you were. His touch made your skin tingle, heated sparks spreading in pools around his digits. His other hand moved parallel, assessing the very handles he’ll be holding onto in a minute. “Come on then.” he smirked up at you, his dimple presenting itself so cutely. You felt like you could pass away at how adorable his smutty request was and how casual it felt to talk to your capo in such a way. Any shame or embarrassment just simply not invited to this party.

You did as you were told, positioning yourself right above his face, caging in his head like you’d done before to dear Pesci. Maybe today you’d writhe and moan in such pleasure again, the naughty thoughts sinking you down without Risotto even needing to guide you. It made him chuckle deeply into you as his mouth met your dripping folds, the ripples of his voice tickling you.

He began to lap at you, drinking up all of your sweet essence like it was his last glass of beloved cabernet. His tongue moving with the same care as before, tracing around your clit before giving it a suck with his lips, the aching bud of nerves already hardened with pleasure. You moaned at his ministrations, clamping your thighs while he worked you, bucking your hips rhythmically; setting a comforting pace. Risotto moved in tandem, holding onto your hips like before but gripping them tighter with his large palms, fingers digging into your gorgeous form. Hot breaths swiped at your mound, a dragon breathing steam out of his nose while he softly grunted into you. You felt even more slick trickle down, glad to hear him let go like he has before and not be afraid to be heard. You loved hearing how much he was enjoying himself.

Just like many times before, heat started rising, orgasm near and bringing in tsunamis of pleasure that crashed wildly at your insides, your head reaching new heights of haziness. “Fuck Risotto-” you got out the words between ragged pants and mewls, feeling your walls tighten around his tongue that would dip in from time to time to skillfully work inside. “M gonna come sh-it!” you hunched over to grasp at the sheets for any semblance of support, no place to hold onto the bed frame since it was just out of reach. As you snapped your hips a few more times, Risotto focussing all his attention on working you into a dizzying orgasm, you came on his face. A new sensation washing over you along with the pleasure of your peak, a gushing of sorts that made you moan out his name even louder while your legs trembled around his head.

The silken fabric was too soft, not giving you any grip whatsoever, having to support yourself on your hands while sparks rippled through every crevice of your being. And Risotto had no plans of stopping, keeping up his pace and gladly licking up all your juices, having felt him growl into you when you gushed over his face. You had stopped rocking now, too focused on remaining seated; panting and trying your best not to collapse into the mattress as he kept eating you out.

Risotto ingrained every single bit of your movements and the way he could make you squirm and tremble under his attention. How you yelped out his name during worn breaths, how your thighs and core were overheating from pleasure. He was making you feel this way and no one else for once. At this moment his only job was to make you come again, knowing how quickly you could be urged into your next orgasm if he just kept going. You weren’t the only one learning stuff on this educational favour.

With another strong swirl and suck on your overstimulated clit, your second orgasm was brought on. It made you fall onto the mattress, twitching as you lifted your hips away from his face to catch your breath. The cool air offering some sort of relief while your walls anxiously clasped around empty space. Risotto could finally breathe properly again, not that he wished to be doing anything other than servicing you, cursing his lungs for needing air. His chin and mouth were completely covered in your abundant slick; something he took in pride.

You slowly moved off of him completely, chests both rising and falling deeply. The only sound filling the room was that of your combined heavy breathing. For a moment laying there, relishing in the ambience of pleasure, realising that you were getting what you had wanted. You felt relieved, thankful that he’d made you wait because somehow it made it all the better. And getting in some experience certainly helped too.

“Please fuck me.” you plainly said, reminded of the first time you’d asked him and how nervous you felt, all of that gone now. You heard him breathe out a chuckle, making you turn your head to see why he thought it so amusing of you to ask such a thing. “What’s so funny Risotto?” you asked, smiling at his glistening lower face, wiping off the remainder with his sheets. You’ll just wash them later.

“You still think I’ll just fuck you.” he replied as casually as you’d asked. His facade did not let on any sort of humouring which made your stomach sink and eyes widen. What? Was he not going to fuck you? Your thoughts started spiralling into a panic, propping yourself up to question him further. But you couldn’t even do so, with one swift move he was back on top of you, caging you underneath him with that crimson glare boring through yours.

“I won’t just fuck you gattina.” he intoned, delicately moving a strand of hair back in place while speaking. He leaned back in close now, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he breathed out. “We’re going to make love. It’s your last lesson.” he purred, starting a trail of soft wet kisses from your jawline all the way down to your neck and collarbones. You still remained shocked, at least glad that he didn’t mean to reject you.

You were stumped. All that was somehow still a very smooth move despite scaring the actual shit out of you. You huffed out a relieved laugh now too. “You scared me for a second, Ris!” He was steadily working his way down to your chest, letting him take one of your breasts into his hand to knead it and sucking on the pert nipple of the other. His grip was strong but still careful, making sure to massage them just enough to hear your breath hitch. “I’d never leave you hanging high and dry. Unless you’d want me to.” you could feel him smile against your skin; the mischievous bastard. You playfully tugged at his silver locks, dark eyes shooting you a gorgeous smile that pierced right through you and melted your heart. He really was a bastard!

Your heart had settled back into its place, ready to continue and forget all about the short little panic he’d caused you. Guess that was just a bit more payback for testing his patience and strength throughout the sessions.

Risotto halted his succession of pecks right above your ribs, planting a trail where your bra usually made its home and planted a few more wet kisses over the indents that still marked your skin. Like his lips would make them fade and replace them with a loving memory of his touch. You could only stare at his deliberate movements, enamoured by the way he gently held onto your sides while he kissed you sweetly. You were squirming under him, trying your best to not ask him again to plow you into the mattress because by now you knew better; he’ll get to it. Eventually.

You sighed in satisfaction when he stopped, his thick fingers now moving downwards just above your mound. He ghosted over the area, digits barely felt which made goosebumps rise all over, a small yelp leaving your lips at the soft graze. He moved further down, dipping between your soaking folds carefully, avoiding any touch to your overworked bud which still ached to be stimulated again. A single finger slid inside your amply drenched hole now, pumping in and out of you at a slow pace.

Risotto looked up at you, meeting that expression he so loved to see. Lips slightly parted, a soft wet sheen over your forehead from your orgasms, cheeks that remained heated and puffy from arousal. With every thrust he heard a soft moan escape, eyes crinkled shut while he hit further and deeper inside of you with every push. The way your eyes shot open again as he entered another finger, the thickness of them stretching you open further. It felt amazingly tender to have him take all the time he needed - you needed- to adjust to his size.

Your soaked walls clenched and squelched around him, accepting more and more, ready for the precise thing you had been waiting to receive. He hadn’t been paying your sensitive clit any mind, the only focus on working you open. But the way his fingers curled, now three of them joined inside, tickling the most pleasurable spot nestled in your walls you let go and groaned loudly as he made you near another orgasm, head heavy and lost in a thick fog. He didn’t let you come however, feeling how your walls had quickened their grasp on his fingers and how your chest heaved and how those moans and groans sounded so desperate.

He moved himself out of you slowly, creeping up closer over you again and letting his coated fingers rest on your lips. Your eyes met again, glazed over in lust and a deeper craving to be even closer to him, those dark ones so trained on every small contortion and crease of your expression. You opened your mouth to receive them, suckling at the digits and lapping up your own juices with determination. Even propping yourself up a little to better your licks and sucks, eager to work him clean.

Risotto felt like he could burst, your tongue working with a focus that you couldn’t offer last time you had your mouth wrapped around him; too busy being fucked into oblivion on both ends. Satisfied with your cleaning he took them out of your mouth and kissed you again. Deeply and tenderly, tasting each other and your essence on his lips as tongues danced around. It was enrapturing to indulge so much but you were both ready to finally have his large leaking cock inside of you. He promptly discarded his trousers, his leaking head and impressive shaft bobbing as he got ready for you. The image alone never failed to surprise you, making your mouth water in anticipation.

“I’ve waited for this so long. Please don’t hold back, Ris.” you sighed as he kept you on your back, legs being spread open and moved up and wide with your knees bent closer to your chest. More than enough room to accommodate the man and his daunting length, the air no longer fresh or cooling; too heavy with the scent of lust and the heat of the moment. Risotto clasped both of your wrists in one of his hands, his large palms comfortably holding them and reaching them above your head where he held them pressed into the mattress. He leaned over you now, once again capturing you under him in a way that felt so protective and safe, the place where he’d take care of you and cherish every single moment pleasing you.

The familiar tip of his leaking member grazing just outside your hole, leaning at the entrance. Somehow the feeling made you tremble, the fires burning between your thighs lapping flames against him. “Oh I won’t hold back, you’re going to feel every single inch of me.” his wordiness surprised you, the way his deep voice carried making you weak.

His other hand supported his weight beside your head, letting his hips do all the work of carefully pressing deeper into you. The intrusion made you gasp, his head welcomed by your previously stretched walls. Wailing as he slowly inched further and further. He stopped every couple seconds, groaning deeply between heavy breaths, so vocal in how good you fit around him; so warm and inviting. “Cazzo you feel so good-” he muttered under his breath, starting to pump in and out of you, not even fully sheathed yet.

Being so stretched out, hitting every single spot and hidden pleasure-centers made you see stars, eyes pinched shut and squirming under his firm grasp on your wrists. It felt even better than you could ever imagine. He was perfect, made just for you and you for him. The final puzzle piece clicking in place.

When he finally buried himself inside of you, a thrust paced and calculated as to not hurt you in any way, his tip brushed against your cervix sending shivers down your body as you yelped at the sensation. He paused again, letting you pulse around him, feeling every contortion of your core. “Please keep going Risotto, please-” you whimpered, opening your eyes again to beg with a pleading gaze. Of course he can’t deny you, he’s never been able to.

Set back in action he started a steady rhythm, hips rolling his cock inside you with ease. Every single thrust brushing against your g-spot sending wave upon wave of pleasure through you. At this point no one was being quiet, much to your delight. His deep grunts and moans awakening a need to hear them on repeat every single day of your life. It only egged him on to hear you wailing, tears starting to prick the corners of your eyes while he continued. Completely lost in ecstasy, not a single thought in either of your heads other than this moment.

You felt your orgasm earn footing again, his cock reaching so deep and right. Feeling you clasp around him so often only made him twitch, getting close too and all too focused on making you come again before he can spill. “Touch yourself, I want to feel you come on my dick- You’re so beautiful.” He groaned desperately when you clenched even harder around him, his words affecting you greatly. He freed your wrists, letting his other hand support himself as well, letting him deepen his thrusts even further with the added grip.

You toyed your clit with vigour, your folds soaked with your slick letting you increase your pace. Desperate for your orgasm to wash over you while Risotto increased his speed as well. Chasing your peaks together, you reached it first. You could only mumble something that vaguely resembled Risotto’s name at this point, over and over like a mantra that lead your orgasm on. You felt yourself gush over his length again, dripping down onto his already soiled sheets. As you pulsed and writhed riding the waves of it to shore, Risotto followed suit. With a loud guttural groan you felt him tense up and twitch, releasing inside of you with languid spurt of his warm come. His thrusts slowed and sputtered as he kept coming. For a man of his expertise and experience, this was the first time someone had made him come this hard. Well, it was the first of many things he’s experienced with you.

Both breathing heavily as he stopped, resting above you and eyes opening again to adoringly stare at each other's satisfied faces. His eyes held a certain emotion he hadn’t let himself show before; he needn’t use words. You smiled back at him, that goofy satisfied one he always looked forward to seeing after a session, communicating back that you shared his sentiment.

As soon as he pulled out you felt so dreadfully empty again but never have you felt more full on a different level. That hunger that gnawed at you before now finally satiated (even if just for tonight). You had gotten what you wanted and so much more. The look on Risotto’s face told you much the same for him as he laid down next to you, pulling you into his arms where you nuzzled his sweaty chest. You placed tired kisses on him, basking in his soft caresses over your shoulders and into your neck where he gently massaged your scalp. You melted into his touch, sighing deeply and feeling your sleepiness settle in again. “Thank you Risotto. For everything. I… I really appreciate all you’ve done for me.” you admitted, listening to his heartbeat settle with your head pressed against it, drawing circles into his biceps with your finger.

“I wasn’t sure at first but I’m glad we did it. All of it. It might be strange to say but-” he sighed as he planted another kiss on the crown of your head. “I’m proud of you.” he felt relief wash over him for finally having said what he’d wanted to for so long. It may have been such an unusual thing to have gone through together but he really was proud of you. For always being open minded and learning along the way, for getting what you wanted and even bringing the squad closer together since commencing the journey.

Sat between his legs, enjoying the warmth of the water and letting small bubbles fizz at your skin while you let Risotto massage your scalp. He worked the shampoo through your locks with care and purpose as you sat there, eyes closed, head tilted back, fully enjoying the moment. Having him with you as you regained your senses felt so wonderful, usually doing it by yourself as Risotto retreated in the past. But now was his turn to take care of you like he’d wanted. He washed your limbs, running the washcloth soaked in your favourite scented body wash over every plane of skin. Giggling as he paid extra attention to your breasts. “They need cleaning too.” he mumbled playfully. It was like you’d opened up a whole other side to your capo, finally showing slivers of his more vulnerable side, not afraid to let you in.

In return you washed his hair too, scratching and circling every spot that made him putty in your hands. You don’t think he’s ever been this relaxed before. You traced the lines of his muscles, mapping out dividing routes and connecting them again only to break off and discover new ones.

Perhaps staying in the bath a bit too long as you both pruned up, digits crinkled like raisins. Dressed back in the most comfortable clothes you owned, Risotto and you went out into the shared headquarters again. You felt renewed and somehow a bit changed since last walking through these halls. Everyone was seated at the long dinner table that faced the kitchen, talking loudly and passing plates and scooping up helpings of pasta and sauce. Their noise dissipating once you and Risotto entered, eyes now pointed towards your direction and following as you both took your usual seats.

You remained quiet, a smirk gracing your lips as you tried to contain your laughter at the curious stares of your colleagues. “Good nap?” Melone quipped, a salacious smile covering his face, he knows he’ll get all the details later on. “Uhu!” you nodded happily as you held out your plate for Illuso to fill it with pasta, who did as asked with a quirked eyebrow. “Learned enough?” Formaggio asked next, wolfing down his food and basking in the moment of openness. “One can never stop learning.” you replied politely, watching as your plate got handed to Pesci who had turned as red as the sauce he was ladling onto your plate. “Got good grades?” Prosciutto asked, letting himself join in on the questioning with a minuscule smile curling the corner of his mouth upwards. “Top of her class.” Risotto interjected, letting his dimple return as he started his meal. “I might do some extra credit, just in case.” and with that you began your dinner, happily twirling the pasta around your fork and letting your colleagues figure out how you will ever be satiated.

#it is done my dearies!! i hope you enjoy because i had a lot of fun doing it #jjba x reader #risotto x reader #la squadra x reader #risotto nero x reader #risotto imagine #jojo smut #jjba smut #jojo x reader #minors dni #notsfw #jjba fic #jojo's bizarre adventure #risotto nero #la squadra

211 notes · View notes

decodingellipses · 3 years

Text

Alexis Nikole, The TikTok Forager

This piece is part of the Person of Interest vertical at @bonappetit

Alexis Nikole considers her TikTok fame a fortuitous accident. She knew nothing about the platform until she started an account for her day job as a social media manager. But when the 28-year-old from Columbus, Ohio, began experimenting on her personal page during the pandemic, she got more than she bargained for. Specifically: over 600,000 enthusiastic followers and 10.3 million likes.

Since April of last year, Nikole’s now viral account has been showcasing her immeasurable knowledge of foraging and cooking with wild plants: a sorbet made out of Japanese knotweed (Reynoutria japonica), hairy bittercress (Cardamine hirsuta) turned into lush salads, and common dandelions (Taraxacum officinale) battered and fried like fritters. She studied environmental science and theater at Ohio State University, and often combines her two passions on the platform—where you’ll find her singing original songs about cattails and sassafras.

By sharing excellent foraging tips laced with undiluted humor, Nikole’s intentions were for people to take agency over their meals and make the most of foods that were free and readily available all around; especially after COVID-19 hit American shores and shopping was anxiety inducing. During the early months of the pandemic, Nikole’s TikToks focused on how foraged goods could extend groceries and increase access to fresh ingredients, especially for those living in food deserts. This is precisely why Nikole’s videos are so grounding; in these times, it’s crucial to feel some sense of self-sufficiency and stability.

Amid global adversity, Nikole forages because it reminds her that she’s human—and humans, at their very core, are part of the ecosystem, no matter how much we distance ourselves from that truth. I called up Nikole to learn more about her foraging background, how she practices gratitude for what is all around, and why the world needs more hyper-localized food systems.

Foraging makes me feel I am a part of something bigger… and that feeling is really good at chasing the depression away. Typically I go out between two to five times a week on average. In the dead of winter, I might only go once, and during the dog days of summer, I’m in the woods and nearby parks every single day. I’ll jam to ’80s funk the entire walk to the creek, but the earbuds go away when I get there. I want to hear everything—the crunching leaves under my feet, the babbling brook, and people conversing and laughing in the distance.

I used to dream of being a pop star… by night and a scientist by day. I’ve been surrounded by music for a long time. I was three when I joined the childrens’ choir at my dad’s Baptist church, I started classical piano at age five, I was in choir every year through junior high and high school, I performed a cappella in high school, and was on the e-board of ukulele club in college. I was never a prodigy, but music brings me so much joy, so I love being able to sneak that into my TikTok videos.

The best meal I’ve made using a foraged ingredient is probably… chicken-of-the-woods mushroom (Laetiporus sulphureus) “crab cakes” and an American sea rocket (Cakile edentula) and steamed beach pea (Lathyrus japonicus) salad tossed in olive oil infused with goldenrod (Solidago). Very gourmet!

My curiosity for the outdoors… was nurtured from a very young age by my parents. My two sets of grandparents knew that scouting was good for building connections and recognized the importance of getting outside, and thus got my parents into it early. My mom scouted longer than my dad did and went to sleepaway camp in New Hampshire in the summertime. Eventually, while working at Procter & Gamble, she gardened on the weekends to decompress. I would help her, spreading mulch or digging into the earth with a tiny trowel while she quizzed me on the plants. Unbeknownst to my mom, I was picking up a lot of information. From there it grew into a love of all things growing plants outdoors.

You don't have to go full forager… to reduce your environmental impact. Over the past few decades society has trended away from a localized food system, toward a global one. On the upside, it’s much easier to find ingredients like star anise at the grocery store. However, access to tomatoes year-round means they’ve got a higher carbon footprint because they traveled thousands of miles to get to your plate. Even shopping at your local farmstand helps with lowering your carbon footprint; it’s also a little easier than identifying a plant and bringing it home to eat.

Everyone was afraid of going to the grocery store… when I started my TikTok foraging videos in April 2020. So I thought: Hey! Here are a few plants that are really common and probably growing in your neighborhood that you can gather, and maybe that’ll stretch your groceries a bit.

Poor and POC communities are hit hardest… when major disasters hit. We saw the same thing playing out in Texas with the massive winter storm. So I offer my knowledge to help someone who needs to get some fresh food on their plate.

As a Black, queer female forager on the internet… I’m not the person people expect to see excited about foraging, the outdoors, biology, botany, and history. I have delightful forager friends who are white, and I notice they don’t get questioned nearly as much as I do. That’s heartbreaking. When my dad learned that my account becoming viral also meant me becoming susceptible to online harassment, he got angry and told me, “I’ve been alive for 65 years. It doesn’t feel good that you’re still called into question because of who you are.”

Though, it all feels worth it when… a follower sends me a thank-you message saying, “Because of you, while I was out walking I recognized this plant and it made me feel like my neighborhood was a cooler and happier place.” To be less unacquainted with plants or more connected to surroundings because of me is a huge win. We take better care of the things we know.

94 notes · View notes

specialagentsergio · 3 years

Text

now i’m getting colder || part one

summary: Emily’s been dating you for nearly a year and she’s never been happier--until her past come to call. Then she’s gone, and Spencer’s left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader (unrequited), emily prentiss x f!reader

category: angst

content warnings: (faked) major character death, mentions of/implied sex, mentions of vomiting (nothing descriptive), swearing

a/n: i got such a great response from the original fic, so after some requests, i decided to continue the story. thank you all for your support!

word count: 3.8k

series masterlist || masterlist

After the night in Connecticut, Spencer expects everything to change.

He expects you to start spending less time with him and more time with Emily, openly. He expects to have to watch you kiss her, listen to you gush about her to him. He thinks you may even be upset with him for exposing your relationship. So to say that he’s surprised when barely anything changes at all is an understatement.

The amount of time you spend together does go down, but only by about three hours and seventeen minutes per week. (Not that he calculated it on purpose—it’s one of those things he keeps track of without really meaning to.) You still spend a lot of your time with him, listening to him tell you about the books he’s reading and discussing what’s going to be shown at this year’s Georgetown foreign film festival. You don’t talk about Emily that much; at least, not any more than you did before.

Your behavior at work doesn’t change much, either. You and Emily keep things professional there for the most part, enough so that he can almost pretend that you aren’t in love with someone else.

Almost.

Three weeks after Connecticut, his attention is drawn away from his paperwork when you reach over the partition between your desks and tap on the wood.

“Spence.”

“What?”

“Are we still on for the Doctor Who marathon tomorrow?”

He blinks. “Oh, um.” He’s been so caught up in... well, in sulking, that he’s actually forgotten something. “Yeah, I guess. If you still want to. It’s okay if you don’t.”

You frown at him. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

“I mean, I just figured...” He leans back in his chair, rocking it a bit. “I figured you’d rather spend time with Emily.”

“Oh.” Your expression doesn’t change much; you still look confused by his words. “Just because I have a girlfriend doesn’t mean I want to stop spending time with you, Spencer. You’re still my best friend.”

“Really?” he asks before he can stop himself.

“Really,” you affirm with a small laugh. “One o’clock, my place. Don’t forget the snacks.”

“I won’t,” he replies quietly, trying to ignore the little bud of hope sprouting in his chest, the thoughts of maybe things aren’t going well between you two and that’s why you want to spend Saturday with him, maybe you and Emily are going to break up—

You rest your chin in your hand as your expression shifts into something serene. Your gaze moves from his face to behind him and he follows it, turning in his chair to see—

Emily’s just walked back into the bullpen with a stack of files. Your eyes follow her the entire time as she makes her way to Hotch’s office, a small smile gracing your lips. You don’t even notice him watching you; you just look back down at your paperwork once she’s out of sight, that smile staying on your face.

Spencer’s chest physically aches, the bud of hope crushed. He returns to his own work, swallowing hard and trying to ignore the tears pricking at his eyes. You’ve never looked at him like that, and he would give almost anything for that to change.

---

Emily had wanted to smack herself when she realized that she was catching feelings for a coworker again.

It’s different than it was with JJ, though. With JJ, she had felt an instant connection. She had felt drawn to her like a moth to a flame. And just like a moth, she had been burned—JJ had never felt the same towards Emily as Emily did to her. She might have, someday. But then JJ met Will, and the rest was history.

You’re something entirely different. Emily’s always found you attractive, but for a long time, she didn’t have any desire to do more than simply enjoy the view. It takes her a while to really get to know you, since you spend so much time with Reid. But as she does, she finds herself more and more interested in you. A year passes, then two. One thing leads to another, and another, until one day she finds herself, slightly tipsy at one of Rossi’s dinner parties, looking at her friend and thinking, god I’d like to kiss her.

Following that realization, she notices a few things—you gravitate towards her at work, save her a seat on the jet and request to room with her when you have to double up. She thinks you’ve started touching her more than normal, too, placing a hand on her as you walk past and picking stray cat hairs off of her clothes.

The profiler in her recognizes these as signs of attraction. Now she just has to get up the nerve to make a move.

It happens in a hotel room in Phoenix. You return there from the FBI field office, both still riding the high of a successful takedown. You’ve always worked well together, and this case was no exception. You were the ones who made the breakthrough on it, leading the team right to the unsub.

You’d also been the pair that ended up at the location where he was. He’d tried to run, but you’d worked together without conscious thought. Emily had pursued directly while you took a side route. You cut him off quickly, and moments later had him in handcuffs and on his way back to the SUV. No injuries or additional casualties. It’s just about the best ending to a case that you can ask for.

You’re practically vibrating with excitement and leftover adrenaline when you turn to face her in the hotel room. And that smile on your face—god, it’s one of the most beautiful things she’s ever seen.

To hell with it, she thinks, and in the boldest romantic move she’s ever made, says, “I want to kiss you.”

She doesn’t even have time to feel nervous, because you answer immediately by taking her face in your hands and pressing your lips to hers.

Emily’s kissed women before, plenty of them. But none of those kisses had ever felt like this. No other kiss has felt so... right.

She can’t keep her hands in one place as she kisses you back; they roam everywhere, from the back of your neck, to your shoulders, your waist, your hips. You seem to be having a similar dilemma; she can feel you touching her everywhere, as if you can’t get enough of her. It becomes clear where you’re hoping this will go when you push her blazer off her shoulders. She has absolutely no complaints about that, and guides you to the bed that’s closest.

After, curled up in her arms, legs entwined with hers, you say, “I want more than just this. Not that it wasn’t fantastic,” you add. “It absolutely was. But I want this to be more than just sex, you know?”

“You want a relationship,” Emily infers.

“Yeah.”

She puts a finger on your chin and nudges it up so she can look you in the eye. “That’s what I want, too.”

You smile at her and kiss her again, gently this time. You sigh in content as you settle your head back on her chest.

Emily doesn’t think she’s ever felt happier.

---

A case the BAU gets in a gated community turns out to be a unique challenge.

“And that is the whole kit and kaboodle on each of your sixty-four suspects,” Garcia says. “Nothing really stands out.”

“That’s pretty much the main problem we’re going to have here,” Spencer says. You’ve got your back to him right now, so he’s taking the opportunity to watch you.

“Yeah. Vanilla doesn’t make your job any easier.”

“No, it does not.”

“So, um,” Garcia starts. “How’s it going with the agent whose father was a... you know?”

He frowns. “How’d you know that?”

“I might have looked into someone’s hidden background,” she admits. When he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “What? I am not gonna let some strange new person travel with my family and not find out who they are.”

Spencer glances at Seaver before returning his gaze to you. You’re wearing a sweater he’s never seen before today, and it’s really working for you. “I don’t know, she seems fine.”

“What is that in your voice?”

He scrunches his eyebrows. “What’s what in my voice?”

“Oh my god, you think she’s pretty!” she exclaims.

“What? I never said that!” he protests. He starts to panic—Garcia is notoriously bad at keeping secrets; she absolutely cannot know how he feels about you—before realizing that she’s still talking about Seaver.

“Ho, ho, you totally do,” she practically cackles. “Ha ha! PG out, lover boy.”

He frowns down at his phone before putting it back in his pocket. Whatever his tell was, he’s going to have to figure out what it is and stop doing it. He’s lucky Garcia wasn’t there to see who he was actually looking at.

“What was that about?”

Spencer jumps a little. You’ve snuck up on him, coming over when he wasn’t looking at you. “Oh, uh, n—nothing. It was nothing.”

You raise your eyebrows. “I don’t believe you. Your voice did that thing.”

“What thing?”

“You know, the thing where it jumps an octave when you’re surprised,” you say, pointing up.

“Oh. Right.” He clears his throat. “It was just Garcia being... you know, Garcia.”

“Uh-huh.” The expression on your face says you still don’t quite believe him, but to his relief, you move on. “Did she find anything in our suspect pool?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Yeah. I like your sweater, by the way,” he blurts out, the words completely bypassing his brain-to-mouth filter.

You give him that smile, the bright, genuine smile that he absolutely adores. “Thanks!” you say. “Emily got it for me.”

Spencer’s never been able to look away from that smile before.

There’s a first time for everything.

---

When Reid stumbles upon the two of you kissing outside of the hotel room, Emily’s actually relieved. You’d both been talking about taking your relationship public for a while, and now she doesn’t have to come up with a way to actually do it. (You’d vetoed her “just stop keeping yourself quiet when I go down on you in hotel rooms” suggestion.)

But you don’t share that relief. Instead, your mood has changed from playful to anxious—she notices your nervous tic as you both enter the room.

She guides you to sit with her on one of the beds. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?”

“I...” You chew on your bottom lip. She waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “That’s not how I wanted it to go,” you say eventually.

“It’s not how I pictured it, either.” She tilts her head, unsure what to say to make you feel better. “It could’ve been worse, I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

“It could’ve been Rossi.”

That gets a small laugh from you, but the smile doesn’t last. It drops mere moments later as you look at the wall your room shares with Reid and Morgan’s. “Do you think he’s mad at me?” you ask.

Emily blinks. “Why on earth would he be mad at you?”

“Well, it’s Spencer,” you say. “’Trust issues’ is practically his middle name, and I’ve been keeping this—us—from him for months.”

She takes a moment to consider this. You’re right, of course—no one knows Reid better than you. He does have trust issues; abandonment ones, too. But she still can’t imagine him ever being mad at you.

“I’m not sure it’s even possible for him to be mad at you.” She takes one of your hands in both of hers. “But I’ll talk to him, let him know this is on me.”

You relax a little, but still say, “You don’t have to.”

Emily shakes her head. “I want to,” she assures. “Besides, it’s the least I can do, since you’ve gone along with my boundaries for so long.”

“Of course,” you say quietly, and tip your head to rest on her shoulder. “Thanks.”

“It’s gonna be okay.” She squeezes your hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

---

There’s something going on with you and Emily.

He sees it in Emily first, noticing that she’s biting her nails and acting hypervigilant, constantly scanning her surroundings as if she’s looking out for something.

He can tell you’re worried, too. You’re watching her more than normal, but with a frown instead of a smile, and you’re quick to look away if she glances at you. Your bottom lip is getting chapped and irritated from how often you’re worrying it between your teeth.

Spencer isn’t sure what to make of it. It doesn’t help that he’s having headaches more and more often, and getting through them is taking up most of his energy. Even worse, you’re so focused on Emily that you don’t seem to notice that something’s wrong with him, too.

He desperately wants you to, and it’s not because he’s in love with you. He just wants to talk to someone, needs to talk to someone about these headaches, about how much they’re scaring him and how all the doctors say he’s fine but he doesn’t believe them. He knows you would listen, but he just can’t seem to bring it up, can’t overcome his fear of being a burden.

He needs his best friend, but she just doesn't seem to be around right now.

---

“I swear to god, Ian, you come anywhere near her, and I will end you.”

The words she’d spoken just two weeks ago when Doyle brought up your name echo in Emily’s head as she looks down at Tsia’s body. She knew he was hunting all of them, but she didn’t expect this. She’d thought she had gotten Tsia out of harm’s way. Instead, she’d sent her right into it.

She’s usually fine with corpses and blood. After all, she’s seen far worse than a gunshot because of this job. But this is her friend, she was talking to her just yesterday—

Morgan finds her out by the fence lining the building with vomit on her boots. He asks what he can do, and she convinces him to swing by her apartment on the way back to the BAU, not only so she can change, but so she can get rid of the necklace.

Hotch has just barely started the briefing when they return. His words fade to white noise as she looks over her team, her family. Doyle’s killing families, and now that they’re on the case, hers is next. They just don’t know it.

Her eyes come to a stop on you. The entire team was awake most of the night and everyone’s wearing yesterday’s clothes, but you look as beautiful as ever.

Emily knows you’ve been worried about her this past month, but you’ve also been so patient. You’ve never asked her outright what’s going on, instead dropping hints like you can talk to me about anything and have I ever told you that my college psychology professor said I’m a great listener? When you notice her keeping an odd schedule, leaving for hours at a time, you only ask that she text you when she gets home for the night so you’ll know she’s safe.

When Doyle had revealed that he knew what you were to her, Emily’s first thought had been that she should break up with you, for your own safety. But she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. You were her safe place, her calm in the center of the storm, her sanctuary.

Her profiler brain had backed her up: Ian wasn’t going to care about the official status of your relationship. He already knew she loved you, and he’d recognize that calling it off right after their meeting would be about protection rather than a change in her feelings.

So she had stayed with you, retreated to her safe place when it all became too much. This past month had been hell, but it would have been even worse without you there to keep her head above water.

You are, without a doubt, the best thing that ever happened to her. And she’ll be damned if Ian Doyle was going to take that away from her.

Enough.

It was time to end this.

---

The only word Spencer can use to describe the hospital waiting room is surreal. It’s eerily quiet. No one is talking, not even Garcia; she’s scribbling in a notebook instead. People switch between sitting and standing. He paces for a while before sitting next to Penelope, hunching forward in a way he knows is going to make his back hurt in a few hours. Everyone’s restless, even if they try to hide it.

Everyone, that is, except you. You’ve barely moved at all.

It had all happened so quickly. Not long after the briefing, they realized Emily was gone. From the document she had gotten from her informants, the team had quickly been able to deduce that four of the names were spies—and through that, that Emily was one, and she was on Doyle’s list.

Hotch found her gun and badge in her desk.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Spencer had said. “Why run? We’re her family. We can help.”

“That’s why,” you’d responded hollowly. “He’s killing families. She ran to protect us.”

It had been a comfort to see JJ walk back into the bullpen, and she was able to get ahold of crucial information: Emily had gone undercover as Lauren Reynolds and began a romantic relationship with Doyle in order to profile him.

It was information that didn’t sit well with most of them, Morgan especially. But you hadn’t seemed too bothered, almost as if it wasn’t news to you. Spencer had brought it up as you were both collecting your go bags for the flight to Boston.

“That didn’t seem to surprise you. Emily sleeping with him,” he clarified when you just raised an eyebrow at him.

“I knew there was a guy she was with for a while,” you’d said. “She told me a bit about what their relationship was like. Said it wasn’t real to her. I didn’t know he was a terrorist.”

Overall, you had handled this as well as could be expected. If it were you instead of Emily, Spencer thinks he would have been an absolute wreck. He definitely wouldn’t have been able to work the case as well as you had. There were some points where the stress had gotten the better of you, though, like when they were watching the video of Emily’s failed ambush and Morgan voiced his discomfort with it.

“She threw a flash-bang grenade into a car. She’s lucky the three people inside didn’t die. Is anybody else bothered by that?”

“No,” you had said bluntly.

Rossi had immediately tried to smooth it over by saying, “Well, three bad guys.”

Seaver is the one who makes the breakthrough on the case, posing the question of, why families? Hotch is able to convince Clyde to help, and Garcia tracked down Doyle’s son. You had recognized Emily’s hands in the photos of Declan’s faked death, and everything had clicked into place, the final piece of the puzzle of her past.

Morgan was the only one on the team to go into the building. “We’re already bending the rules by doing this ourselves,” Hotch had explained. “Our connection to Prentiss compromises the case. We can only afford to send one of us in there. The rest of us will wait outside in the case that he calls for backup.”

Morgan’s call over the comms had given Spencer emotional whiplash. “I’ve got her!” sparking intense relief, but quickly followed by, “I need a medic!”

Hotch had kept everyone from crowding the ambulance. They’d only gotten a brief glimpse of Emily being loaded into the back of it. Morgan had come over to the group once the doors shut and updated everyone on her condition.

“She, um...” He cleared his throat, clearly trying to reign in his emotions. “She was stabbed. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Okay,” you’d said faintly. Then you’d walked a few feet away and thrown up on the pavement.

You haven’t said anything since.

When the team had first arrived at the hospital, you had just stood in the middle of the waiting room, barely moving, until Garcia guided you to sit in a chair. Spencer had tried to talk to you a few times, just to check in, see if you needed anything, but you hadn’t responded at all. Your eyes were unfocused, and he could tell you were lost in whatever was happening in your head.

They wait for a long time. Spencer knows the exact number is floating around in his head somewhere, but he doesn’t care to track it down.

JJ walks in. Everyone looks up. The look on her face says everything he needs to know.

“No,” Garcia whispers at his side.

JJ draws in a breath. “She never made it off the table.”

His body moves on its own; he stands from his chair and tries to leave the room, but JJ stops him with a hand on his chest. “Spence.”

“I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye,” he says, only able to glance at her face once.

“Come here,” JJ says, her voice just barley audible, and pulls him into a hug.

His face crumples, and he starts to cry. His feelings about Emily may have been... complex the last few months, but regardless of any jealousy or anger, she was still one of his closest friends, and he loved her. She was like the big sister he never had, always looking out for him. Being told she’s gone—it doesn’t feel real.

JJ is the one to break the hug, pulling back from him as gently as she can. When he turns back to face the team, his eyes land on you.

You’re sitting next to Rossi and you’ve practically collapsed into him now, your body shaking with silent sobs. Rossi has a few tears of his own falling down his face as he runs his hand up and down your back.

Spencer doesn’t bother to wipe away his own tears as he makes his way to the vacant seat on your other side. He gently places his hand on top of one of yours and says your name quietly. You don’t move except to turn your hand palm up, put your fingers through his, and grip it so tightly, it’s as if you’re hanging on for dear life. He supposes you are.

You’re going to need your best friend to get through this. He knows that because he’s going to need you as well. He may be hopelessly in love with you and long for you to feel the same way, but it doesn’t matter anymore.

It doesn’t matter, because Emily is gone. She’s gone; she isn’t coming back.

And the world feels colder without her.

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

tell me what you thought here!

#spencer reid x reader #emily prentiss x reader #spencer reid fanfic #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #angst #spencer reid #emily prentiss #my fic

247 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Stars Aligned Chapter 2

Here’s the thing. Danny knew this was a dumb decision. At least as dumb as stepping into the ghost portal (but at least he’d gotten some nifty powers out of that, hey?). Whatever reason his bio-dad had for chucking him out the door within days of his birth couldn’t be good. Putting himself within reach of the man… Yeah. Not his brightest thought.

(Not to mention the wizards. And witches. That was so weird, how they had two different names for essentially the same thing. Then again… actor, actress… Why were people so weird?)

On the other hand, twin brother. Twin brother who had to live with aforementioned baby-abandoning bio-dad. Twin brother who wasn’t allowed to visit America. Or, Danny suspected, a family of squibs.

Yeah.

So, here he was. Getting everything in order for a wizard passport and wizard international travel, because bio-family refused to even look at an airport.

Danny had a suspicion that, based on how they spelled the word and a few other comments in that particular letter, that they weren’t entirely clear on what an airport was.

Fun.

On the other hand, in comparison to the actual, normal, legal passport he’d gotten, just in case bio-family left him somewhere, wizard passports were much, much easier to get. The wait times were practically nonexistent. He could, in theory, get the passport on the same day he traveled. All that was needed was proof he was a wizard and his adoption papers.

Of course, ‘proof he was a wizard’ actually meant ‘wand.’ Wands being something they used as personal ID, despite the fact that they were a) sticks, and b) didn’t actually carry any personally identifiable information. Sure, Jack said that they were somehow connected to their owners, but unless there were, like, giant books of details about everyone’s wands at every place that would, conceivably, need ID, and had people trained to identify all those tiny little characteristics… Danny just couldn’t see how it would work.

Danny’s current theory was that all wizards were just insane, which meant that his twin would most likely fit right in with the rest of Danny’s family, right as soon as Danny figured out how to legally kidnap him.

(No, Danny didn’t have a ghostly Obsession, and it definitely wasn’t family related. He was only half-ghost, after all. Why do you ask?)

Anyway. Wizard passport. Wizard ID. Wizard sticks.

Wands.

Wands meant a nerve-wracking trip to the nearest wizarding town with Jack. Evidently, he’d lived there a couple of years after his parents sent him away from Britain when he was around fourteen because of ‘the war.’

Abruptly, many of Jack’s stories about his childhood made more sense.

(It had always been something of a joke between Jazz and Danny to try and figure out what ‘the war’ was supposed to be, and if Jack’s parents had just… Conned him into thinking he’d eaten horse meat. For some reason. Even if the Fentons hadn’t seemed like that kind of people, no matter how eccentric.)

(Also, evidently Jazz and Danny had never met Jack’s biological parents, who were not named Fenton, although his adopted mother was also a witch.)

(Why was everything so complicated?)

The “wizarding community” was a small town accessible only by a train line invisible to ‘no-majs.’ And also flying brooms. Which wizards used. Danny had seen the train before, not realizing that he wasn’t supposed to. Several times. Usually while flying to Wisconsin to deal with whatever Vlad had done that week.

If Danny was a wizard, was Vlad? Was being half-ghost somehow tied up in being magical? What did that mean for Dani?

(Hey, maybe this whole affair could be used to bring Dani into the family safely. Who was to say that he didn’t have a secret twin sister?)

Danny could admit that the town itself, which had almost a Ghost Zone vibe with how all the architecture seemed to be from fifty plus to a hundred years ago and also the physics breaking magic, was sort of cool. It was… cute, he guessed. He didn’t really like how everyone was staring at Jack, their clothes were just as weird, but it wasn’t a new thing. People always stared at Jack.

That’s what happened when you wore hazard-orange jumpsuits twenty-four seven.

The shops all had names out of a fantasy novel, and at one point they got turned around and wound up on a residential street where they had to ask for directions, but eventually they made it to ‘Willoughby’s Wand Emporium.’

The interior of Willoughby’s Wand Emporium reminded Danny strongly of a shoe store. The shelves were all lined with boxes of approximately that size, and the employees all carried measuring tape. It also smelled like a shoe store: musty and dry, with a hint of polish. Or maybe it was wood varnish? Or some kind of paint.

A young woman bounced up. “Hi, how can we help you today? Replacement wand?”

“First time, actually,” said Jack.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said the woman. “You’re just so tall for your age.”

“I’m fourteen,” said Danny.

The woman began to turn red.

“He was missed,” said Jack. “It happens.” He smiled, but it looked far more strained than usual.

“Oh,” said the woman. “Ahem. Well, if you’ll come right this way, I can start taking measurements, and start trying out wands. The wand chooses the wizard, they say!”

“Okay,” said Danny, shrugging. That was… interesting. Were the wands sentient? Did that somehow make them acceptable IDs?

Seemed really weird to keep sentient things stored in boxes.

… Said the kid who stored sentient beings in a soup thermos.

A really high-tech soup thermos.

Didn’t make it better.

Except he didn’t keep them in the thermos indefinitely. Except for Dan.

Danny didn’t know if the wizards kept the wands in boxes indefinitely, either. Maybe he should stop assuming things. That had gotten him in trouble with ghosts more than once.

The woman took her measuring tape from where it hung around her shoulders, held it out in front of herself, and promptly dropped it. It did not fall.

As basic as levitation was for ghosts, it was really weird to see a human do it. (Especially when it always took so much concentration for him to levitate things other than himself—Hence why he never really used the ability in battle.)

The measuring tape flitted around Danny’s head, shoulders, arms, and body, taking measurements. He had to sit on his reflexes hard to prevent himself from trying to catch it or knock it out of the air.

He was so nervous. Was it normal to be nervous?

The measuring tape snaked back through the air to the woman, who smiled. “Alright,” she said, “we can start with that. Uh, to explain the process, we usually start out with wands in the appropriate size range and try and zero in on the ones that respond best to you from there.” She flicked her own wand, and several thin boxes slid themselves off the shelves. “We use a wide variety of wand woods from a variety of wandmakers. Just about any tree that grows in North America is probably represented here.” She paused. “Except for palm trees.”

“That makes sense,” said Danny. Palm trees were quite different from other trees.

“Alright. Let’s start with pine. The core of this one is dragon heartstring—Harvested humanely, of course!”

“Core?” said Danny, latching on to the familiar word even as he regarded the wand itself dubiously.

“Yes. As with our woods, we also stock a wide range of wand cores. Each wand has a core made of a small part of a magical creature. Dragon heartstring, unicorn hair, and phoenix feather are the standard ones… But that standardization is rather British. We have a few others available. Thunderbird tail feather—Only taken during molt. Wampus cat hair. Dittany. Rougarou hair. Jackalope antler… Those are the more common ones, though we do have others. Even some kneazle whisker, although most people don’t want those.”

“Why not?”

“Ah, they tend not to be very strong. But sheer power isn’t everything. Some prefer control, need lower power output… or are worried about accidents while they’re learning. We do see some adult learners every now and then.”

That actually sounded sort of appealing to Danny, but he supposed he’d better go about this normally. At least at first.

He picked up the pine wand and immediately dropped it.

“Ow,” he said.

“Ow?” repeated the woman. “Oh,” she said, catching sight of the burn on his hand. “That’s… not supposed to happen.”

“Y’know,” said Danny, conversationally, “I’ve only held, like, two magical things in my life, and both of them have damaged my hands. Is this, like, a common thing, or am I just ridiculously unlucky.”

“Second one, I think,” said the woman. “Cynthia’s good at minor healing charms. I’m going to go get her. Okay? Okay.”

Shortly thereafter, phoenix feather wands were also eliminated as a possibility, not because they burned Danny, but because they seemed intent on burning everything else around him. Pine wands were also a definite no-go (“Don’t worry about the lifespan thing,” said the woman, “that’s a myth.”). As was everything but elder, apple, pear, hornbeam, thorn, and yew (this list got another mention of myths from the shop assistant).

At this point, the shop owner, Mrs. Willoughby, was drawn out from the back room to observe the mess Danny was making.

“My,” she said, “I haven’t seen anyone have this much trouble in a while. Heather, why don’t you go get some of the specialty cores.”

“I thought the unicorn was working well,” protested the woman who’d been helping Danny so far. She winced as Danny picked up a new wand and exploded a light. “Comparatively.”

“Yes, we could probably eventually find a unicorn hair wand that would work for him, but all things considered… I feel like we should explore other avenues.” She sniffed. “Nothing associated with fire. Perhaps kelpie mane?”

“I’ll check,” said Heather.

Kelpie mane, it turned out, did the same sort of thing as phoenix tail feather when it came to Danny. Only with a lot more water involved.

“I didn’t think that would work, anyway,” said Mrs. Willoughby.

“Then why,” said Danny, wringing water out of his shirt, “did you have me try it?”

“Oh, cases like you greatly improve our understanding of wandlore,” said Mrs. Willoughby. “You’re not likely to have noticed this yet, but the population of wizards and witches is so small compared to the no-maj population that everyone who gets very far in a profession has to be a bit of an innovator. I’m recording this for future reference, and I’ll be looking forward to seeing what you do in life. If anything. It would be very helpful to me if you became famous.”

“Hard pass on that,” said Danny.

“Or at least come back at some point.”

“I’ll consider it,” said Danny. “But, like, we were really hoping to do other things today, so maybe…” He made a circular motion with his hand. “Or at least, ugh, I don’t know. I feel like everything you give me is trying to kill me.”

It was a very familiar feeling, and a very unwelcome one, nonetheless.

“We really aren’t,” said Mrs. Willoughby. “But perhaps… from now on, we’ll limit to the woods to the Rosaceaes. The others tend to be called unlucky. Well, except for the hornbeam. Is there anything you’re singularly passionate about?”

Singularly passionate? “Not really,” said Danny, who did not think about ghosts or helping people or space. He shifted, uncomfortable, and squelched.

Screw it. He was supposedly a wizard, now, right?

He phased the water off himself.

“Oh my god!” shouted Heather. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“Uh,” said Danny. “No?”

“Calm down, Heather. Don’t act like you’ve never seen accidental magic before.”

“Not with a teenager doing it!”

They were now attracting a crowd. Yay.

“He’s not trained, yet,” said Mrs. Willoughby, unconcerned. “Don’t be rude.”

“Yeah, can we get back on track, here?”

After a few more tries, Mrs. Willoughby had determined that the wood that reacted the least badly to Danny was hawthorn. Then she sent Heather into the storage room to fetch more.

“I don’t know why we even have these,” said Heather, under her breath, carrying several boxes marked with stamps that read ‘THESTRAL.’

“Because some people have trauma, Heather.”

“He’s a teenager. I seriously doubt he has deep personal experiences with death.”

“Wow, way to assume, Heather,” said another shop assistant, who was passing by with a far-too-curious customer.

“Here,” said Mrs. Willoughby, handing Danny a box. “Try this one. It’s hawthorn.”

With some suspicion, Danny slid the cover off the box and gingerly picked up the wand inside.

It didn’t do anything like what the other wands had. Instead, the slender length of wood gave him a faint echo of the feeling he got when he was on an emotional high and engaging in either extreme mischief or obsession-adjacent activities (because he did not have a real, ghostly, capital-O Obsession).

Danny declined to hold it with all five fingers, lest he be overcome with mania.

Yes, he was paranoid. But when touching things can go as badly for you as they did for Danny, paranoia was justified.

“Oh, it looks like you’ve found your match,” said Mrs. Willoughby, clapping.

With the ease of practice, Danny did not let any trace of horror or unease show on his face. He ignored the surge of glee from the wand, and carefully placed it back in the box.

Yeah. He needed a wand for passport purposes, but there was no way he was going to use that. He’d just fake magic with ghost powers. It had been working out okay so far.

What was the worst that could happen?

A rather relieved Jack paid for the wand, and they made their way, slowly, to the government building.

“So,” said Jack. “You want to save getting those beginner magic manuals for another day?”

“Absolutely,” said Danny. He wondered if his twin had gone through anything even remotely like this and if it was really worth all this trouble to meet a person he would have basically nothing in common with other than blood.

Blood that likely meant less than usual, considering that his was diluted with ectoplasm. A fact he would have to hide. With no allies or back up. In England.

(Again, this whole endeavor was not his greatest idea.)

Draco supervised the house-elves as they cleaned out the room next to his own, feeling rather blank. He had campaigned vigorously for his twin to come, but now that he was…

The boy, for all that he was as much a Malfoy as Draco, was an American for all intents and purposes. What did Americans even like? What did they call their bastardized version of Quidditch? Would Deneb even know about wizard games? According to the woman from the agency, he’d been raised as a muggle by those squibs he’d been placed with.

Slowly but surely, Draco’s heart sank. He had no idea what his twin would be like. Deneb, despite being his brother, would essentially be a stranger.

He was beginning to understand why his mother was so angry at his father.

#danny phantom #dp/hp crossover #dp/hp twin au #stars aligned

136 notes · View notes

emily-the-fae · 3 years

Text

Sound of a Heartbeat

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Here we go. This thing started out as a one-shot and grew into something bigger; here goes the one-shot/prologue that came to me a month or two ago.

Inspired by watching ONLY the first four episodes of Castlevania, when I had no idea about the whole vampire community and there were only Dracula and his hellish demons.

!!!I have no beta!!!

Pairing: Dracula x OC

Warnings: umm none? angst, suicidal mood, a bit of tuberculosis, blood

a lonely cold night, a campfire and a shivering human next to it, with a dark shadow watching from behind the trees

***

The night had already creeped over the woods, and the fire was now standing out against the dark tree trunks. Shari sat by the bonfire, a long stick in her hand, lazily picking at blackened logs that were soon to fall apart. She briefly wondered, how it was always her in the end, who was left alone, the odd one out of the four - Adrian, Sypha and Trevor seemed to be the main trio - with her following behind to support. Though in the end it was quite obvious this was the right way - the three started off together, she only joined them when Adrian called - wouldn't have done that probably, but with the demons nearing she could never be sure how safe it was to be alone and how far she could go before being devoured.

Not to say she was scared, though. Some months ago, when the plague only started, a wounded winged demon rushed at her temporary hiding spot. The beast roared in rage and threw itself at everything it saw, slowly weakening at then pain, apparently originating from the long gash across the creature's ribs. Shari, of course, being the healer she was, and already cursing her complete lack of self-preservation, tried to stop and calm it - which turned out easier than it seemed when the dusk neared. When she finally got to stop the creature from running around and get closer to the source of its torture, Shari suddenly found that the animalistic demon was much more animal and far less hellish beast than she initially thought.

The wound was long, but nothing too deep - nothing terminal if tended to with proper care. Surprisingly, lavander oils worked even on hell's children, the demon fell completely still and silent in a few minutes, after she tossed an oiled tissue under its muzzle. Shari then carefully cleaned the gash and wrapped it - as good as she could - the cloth would fall off in a couple of days, if all went well. The monster slept soundly as she worked, and she couldn't help but notice, that the creature was somewhat a mix between a bat and a wolf, which amused her greatly for some reason.

Before the night fell, Shari took off from the spot, hoping for the monster's sake, that her operation went well, and, for her sake, that she would never see it again. Unfortunately or not - she was wrong. At the next dusk the beast found her new hiding spot, landed itself on all fours and crawled closer - completely wolvish, like a wild dog interested in a humans life, it's ears standing sharply, signing interest and alert.

Ever since it followed her around - more of a domesticated wolf day by day, Shari almost got used to him. Through him she found out that the winged beasts were not to be feared - one flap of his wings and a loud screech told the other animals that she was a friend (she doubted that her normal spiritual connection to animals existed for those, but somehow it did work) - they would not have attacked her even if she walked among them. It was the wingless beasts that were to be kept away from - these were smarter, more demonic, less animal - Shari only twice saw these from distance and decided that she most definitely did not want to get to know them closer - they would devour her in one gulp, no mercy and no wolvish interest. Though, it was not like they would be the only things eating her alive.

Shari was well aware of what set the plague on the lands of Wallachia. The first time she met Adrian was a little more than a year and a half ago when he stumbled into her small house at the edge of a village. The man was bleeding and in need of help, so she did the best she could. It was only later that she found out he was no man and her help was appreciated rather than useful. And it was him who told her to run away from the lands or go in hiding, told her of the threat; that in a year Wallachia would be set on fire. She had already heard the rumours of the witch and Satan in Tragoviste - these worried her grately, for the fear of the so-called witch hunters made her change her living spots quite often - but after Adrian's story it all started to make sense: Dracula the great vampire and his lost love. Raging out on humankind. So much of the centuries-old wisdom and learning of self control. But she knew it already then that no witty remarks would help her escape.

Adrian found her in a little more than a year of their first meeting. She was running, never stoping in big towns, never staying for longer than two nights. Sometimes sleeping on treetops - she knew she was fleeing from the inescapable, but by then it was the only way of survival. Shari agreed when he asked her to join them - not that she had much choice - but it was nice to be appreciated. She was far more limited in her witchcraft skills than Sypha, but was a much better healer, plus her immunity to the winged beasts turned out to be a very nice perk. Trevor growled, but tolerated her and hellish pet unwillingly at first - but then the demon stood up for the hunter during a particularly unpleasant encounter and afterwards Shari had spent a considerable amount of time healing up and easening the pain from his wound - and as a result even the hunter eventually grew more kind to the healer and her furry partner, who by then acquired the name of Rodo and somehow learned to waggle it's tale - weakly, but still a move.

And that was how she got in her current position: alone in the middle of nowhere by a campfire, Rodo snoring next to her and not a soul around - Adrian, Sypha and Trevor disappeared about an hour ago now, leaving her to protect their camp, and Shari had no idea when they were intending to return. The night was cold, and she half-consciously moved closer to the source of light and warmth. The dark trees around her formed a dreadful wall, only the flapping of wings far above her head and the occasional howl of some nocturnal animal would announce that she was not completely lost in time.

It had already started to snow a few days ago and the ground around her was covered in a thin white blanket. The cold air bit at her throat and lungs, causing Shari to cough up small pools of blood now and then. The irony. Just like all her life. Her name - Shari - meant Princess - but her life of surviving and sneaking had proved to be the complete opposite of the word. No, never a princess, not even once.Born into witchcraft, but never getting to truly learn sorcery. Accused of witchcraft - but for the healing and not the real magic itself. A healer, but sick with a disease she knew she would not heal. The second monster that would devour her, the one she feared more than the blue-eyed hellish creature.

Only two years before did Shari first feel that she was sick. It didn't seem serious back then, more like a series of colds, not a real threat. Now she knew better, she recognized the symptoms from many people that she had seen before, dying, weakening people whom nobody could help. And she was well-aware she stood no chance against that one beast in her lungs that burned her from the inside. She did not know how it started, but she well knew how it would end, and - to be fair - it scared her. In fact Shari was terrified of the way she could go - she could never tell how much she really had left: sometimes it seemed like a decade before her, but nights like this one, she could believe it was only a few months. Shari rather feared the weakness than the death itself - afraid to wake up one morning and understand that she was finally growing weak, that the logical ending of this sickness was coming and then the impending darkness would be far closer than ever before.

She brought a cloth to her mouth, whiping the droplets of blood away and suddenly, following some vague feeling, Shari turned her head upwards, staring at the opening between the treetops: the sky was clear tonight, endless dark sky filled with thousands of stars. Dark, cold, peaceful and lonely. The woman felt liquid going down the back of her throat - familiar unpleasant shiver ran over her, and she turned back to the fire, moving closer to it once more.

She was already willing to rest her head for a while, when she became aware of the eerie silence settled around her: the sound of flapping and the noise of nocturnal fauna disappeared completely, leaving the cracking of the fire and Rodo's snores the only to break the complete stillness. Something was not right.

Shari stood up carefully, looking around for any intruder, seeing nothing but the dark tree trunks and the white untouched snow. Rodo grunted and woke up next to her, his ears up in the air, muzzle sniffing - she knew that expression all too well - her furry friend was just as concerned as she was. Suddenly he jumped up, spreading his wings, and looking up at something behind her back. Shari turned on the spot and froze in a mix of fear and surprise.

There was a man in front of her now. Tall, almost unnaturally so, dark and sharp, his long black hair laying on his shoulders, ears somewhat pointy and eyes - she felt her heart jump to her throat - the red eyes stared right into her soul and Shari knew right away who was her visitor.

- What is it that you want, Count Dracula? - she hoped the vampire would not hear the tremble in her voice, silently cursing Adrian for disappearing when he was so needed.

- A glimpse of who my son is dealing with, to begin with, - the voice was low, but somehow pleasant to the ear.

- And you had no better way than to watch from the shadows? How classy. What are your observations then, Count? - hand on her small blade, she knew it would do nothing against him, but she had to at least try to defend herself.

- You are a good healer, - she coughed at his remark, feeling the blood rise to her throat once again and laughed bitterly:

- Well, not as good as your late wife. My condolences, by the way, - she bowed slightly. At least here she could be sincere.

- Unfortunately for all of us, no words can change anything that was done, healer.

- Oh no, no, no, Dracula, - with the way she was behaving, Shari was surprised that he still hadn't ripped out her throat. - I'm not playing that game of being good remorseful human. I am sure Lisa Tepes was a saint in her way - or so Adrian says...

- Does he now? - she noticed he got closer to her and she had no idea when he managed to do that. - But you aren't one? Is that what you were going to say?

- At least I'm actually a witch - not a turned, but a born one of course - though I do know a demon or two. And to add to the picture, I am also a thief, so yes, Count, I am definitely nowhere near as good as your late wife. And I am just as sure going to poke a hole in your chest if you make one step closer.

Shari took out her silver knife, staring up at the vampire in front of her. Somehow she knew from the look in his eyes, that her false bravado had no effect whatsoever. Maybe it was the slight amusement, or maybe the pity in his eyes, but she knew that he saw right through her and took her for what she was - a scared girl burning up from inside. Shari sincerely hated the vampire at that moment, hated for witnessing her involuntary weakness. She straightened her back, staring up at him with unreserved anger.

- You are not welcome here, Dracula.

- I am aware of that, - she knew that one step closer and she would have to either make a blow at him or step back.

- Then walk away.

- I am afraid that does not correspond with the initial purpose of my visit, - his response was calm, but the glint in his eyes made her insides turn cold.

- The purpose of watching us? - this time the tremble in her voice was audible.

- Oh no, I wouldn't have revealed myself for that, - his fangs seemed suddenly longer than before.

Shari bolted at him right then, blade in her hand, knowing well she stood no chance. If he was going to kill her anyway she might as well die with some dignity. Dracula caught her swift movement all too quick, twisting her arm and ripping her only weapon away from her. Shari screamed in pain and Rodo howled in response, wishing to help, but too terrified of his master to step in, tail between his hind legs and ears pressed to his head, he walked around the two, never daring to come near.

She tore herself from the vampire in a vain attempt to claim back her knife, droplets of blood from her damaged wrist coloring the snow beneath her feet. Dracula caught her swiftly, and she thrusted against him, fighting back with all the might she had left, helpless against his stone hard grasp.

His hand wrapped around her back, pressing her closer to him, her hands beating against his broad chest. Shari growled in her struggle, but couldn't do much. His other hand moved behind her head, almost gently removing the hair from the left side of her neck. As Dracula leaned his head closer to her, Shari finally froze, engulfed by the feeling of pure terror and helplessness. She pressed her eyes shut, stiffening on the vampire's grasp and feeling her whole body tremble, as he sniffed her.

When Dracula bit down, his nails scratching the back of her head, she shrieked, biting her lips, feeling him press her petite body closer to his, like a puppet, his fangs deep in her neck. She panted, clawing at his chest. An unwanted tear ran down the side of her face. Not like this.

- Shush, - her eyes were still shut, but his fangs removed for a moment and his grasp was no longer bruising, almost gentle. His voice seemed calming now, soothing. -Shush, my dear, no need to cry, - he whispered in her ear, his clawed hand slowly coming to caress the side of her face gently, almost lovingly, wiping away her tears. - My poor little girl. You don't have to fight. There is no one to pretend to here, - she felt a deep growl coming from his chest. - You know, you taste like sweetest wine, - she wailed quietly; his lips touched her earlobe and descended to caress the crook of her neck. - It will not hurt. I promise now. Just a kiss and a bright peaceful dream. Just like falling asleep, wouldn't that be nice, my sweet?

She felt a light touch to her neck, only a kiss, his lips touching her, hiding the fangs. The next moment the pain was gone; she opened her eyes and at once it was only her, Dracula and the endless starry sky above them. She held onto his shoulders, feeling his head pressed against her neck, her eyelids growing heavier with each moment as she surrendered to the long awaited sleep, now almost grateful to the vampire for the painless freedom he was giving. Maybe it was for the best after all.

- Let her go! - Trevor whipped at Dracula with no restraint. Him, Adrain and Sypha had been frozen in surprise at the scene they encountered, and the vampire-hunter was the first one of the three to return from the stupefied state.

Dracula hissed, but having to turn away from both the whip and Sypha's ice curses, knew he had better to disappear, leaving the small forest camp the same way he came. He intended no fighting with them that night.

Shari lay on the ground motionless and finally peaceful. Sypha was the first to rush to her, but unsuccessful in any attempts to awake her. Trevor and Adrian rushing about, trying to help move their defeated friend, and Rodo wailed quietly, crawling closer to the light of the fire and to the motionless body on the ground.

Dracula observed from behind the trees. He could barely see the motion of the three as his eyes were focused on one and only figure, still and peaceful, her face white and a small pool of blood on the snow next to her, the last lights of life were holding onto the weakened body.

- Sleep well, poor child.

***********

Here's what my mind came up with. There may be more chapters if I'm bold enough (they may or may not be written out and in the process of being edited in notes). But this one could also go as a separate piece.

Can't believe this is the first big piece I wrote in English AND actually posted.

#please don't judge me #i tried #english is my second language #castlevania #fanfiction #dracula x oc #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #alucard #adrian tepes #dracula x reader

54 notes · View notes

cowboyjen68 · 4 years

Note

did you know any trans people back in the old scenes? any trans men or women? or those who were more androgynous presenting? I'm just curious :))

This is going to be long because this story has meaning to me and I think it is important that I share my friend’s story, even if our connection was temporary.

I did. And she had an impact on me, although I didn’t know it at the time. I used to go to a bar called the “Dead Wood” in Iowa City. It was sort of a townie and college student bar. I was newly out and while we had a well established gay bar it was specifically a night club so we did our day drinking at the Dead Wood. We could play pool, pinball and see familiar faces. My memory is a bit foggy, this would have been around 1994, so I would say we drank together a handful of times or so over the course of a year before I moved to another city and bought a house with my girlfriend.

Her name was Cindy. She was maybe in her late 40′s but it was hard for me to tell. Every one over 30 looked 40 She was thin and blonde and always dressed in mini skirts and lacy tops. Her face was pale, in retrospect it was maybe make up, maybe not, and gaunt and I was always worried she was not eating enough.

She and I talked a lot about her life. I was young and curious and we were often drunk. The kind of day drunk where you talk about personal details, high 5 stupid jokes and say things like “I love you man” over and over. I never saw her outside the bar.

The first time we met, I was ordering a beer and she invited me to sit at the bar with her. She was way ahead of me on drinks so she ordered me a couple of shots (that I paid for) and she told me that i should “buy the lady a drink”. So I did. A beer and a highball glass of whiskey I think. After I was drinking for a while, we had been talking about our names, where I worked etc, she leaned over and whispered “You know I’m a man, right?, a transexual man.” I was a bit taken aback. I knew Cindy was was not female, but I didn’t expect her to say that. I sort of recovered and said “I didn’t think I was supposed to notice or say anything”.

She put her hand on my knee. I remember it so clearly because she was so funny and different from other people I had met in my 24 years. She said “why wouldn’t you notice? “ I really don’t remember having a response. She told me that she was proud of who she was and it had been really hard because she liked men and some gay men didn’t like her being in skirts but she loved her skirts. And loved being seen as woman in public.

Through the next year or many months we ran into each other she told me about being transexual and explained her feelings. What she went through. Cindy told me about being drug addicted and the times she was homeless. I learned, through her words, the struggles she faced. She said she had no family and, although she never told me she was a prostitute, she hinted to it many times.

She told me that being a man was okay, but it was easier to look like a woman and love men than to look like a man and love men. Not to others she said but it felt better to her. She told told me she appreciated that I used “she”. I didn’t see why I would not, to me it was clear she wanted to be treated as if she was a woman.

I am paraphrasing a bit since it was many years ago, but the words in quotes are still clear in my head.

I had been around many drag queens and the 80′s was a prime decade of gender bending with fashion and dance and pop music. Androgyny was a norm for men and women, straight, bi and gay. For some of the gays and lesbians knew it was a way to get as close as they could to how they wanted to present without “outing” themselves as butch or a twink or gay in anyway. I knew many gay men who were feminine and flamboyant by nature. Cindy was different. I understood that she felt better about herself in “feminine” clothing (by American cultural standards). I had never met someone quite like her.

I can’t say how Cindy would feel about the modern language (transgender vs transsexual) or if she would have (or did) eventually take hormones or use any medical transition methods that would not have been available to her then. When i moved away my new job kept me from Iowa City and day drinking. I never saw her again, but I certainly never forgot the talks we had.

Part 2.. At women’s festivals I attended there were always women, who at the festivals were comfortable or at least okay being referred to as women, and used lesbian and female to talk about themselves. But in the “real world”, they passed as men. I can’t say if they used “trans man” to describe themselves. Many of them used more traditional male names but that is also not unusual in the lesbian/butch world either.

Frankly, I would only know they “passed” as men outside of the festival if they told me because the spectrum of women was so varied and diverse that there were certainly very masculine appearing women (whether they used butch or not) who were quite content in being perceived as female and quite unbothered if not.

The first time I heard the term “trans man” was in a 2001 article in the magazine “On Our Backs”. Or at least that was the first time I remember reading about it. I had no trans men in my broad circle of close friends of my generation, and that is still true. My trans man friends are all 30 or under. I remember the article because 1. I still have it and 2. it was pretty honest about the unique relationship and reality trans men have with and share with butches and being a lesbian. It was the first time i saw the complexities of the relationships between lesbians and trans men. Prior to that, it had never occurred to me.

All of the trans men I knew through the years, either friends of friends or in passing were same sex attracted and all were still very much apart of the lesbian circles I was in. There did not seem to be a disconnect or chasm between trans men and lesbians at all, which seems sometimes different than now, at least according to the internet. We unspokenly seemed to understand that we shared some history and a unique connection. My closest trans man friend is younger than me by 20 years and he and I definitely share a close bond, unique to our past.

I have been active in LGBT activism for 26 years and so my circle of friends widened as I grew older. Now I have friends on all parts of the LGBT plus spectrum. Meeting Cindy all those years ago taught me to listen and helped fuel my desire to befriend people who don’t look or act like me or share a similar past. Sharing each other’s stories is the most important power we hold as a community. Actively hearing each other is what strengthens us against a world that often is hostile to us and is uninterested in our struggles beyond pity for who we are.

#lgbt #stories

162 notes · View notes

k7l4d4 · 3 years

Text

Luz the Seeker (Owl House/Huntik: Secrets & Seekers Crossover Idea)

I want to ask, has anyone thought of a Crossover fic between the Owl House and Huntik: Secrets & Seekers? If not, I will discuss my own!! Everybody clap your hands!!!

To help with people who don't know it, I shall now info-dump some of the lore!! And by some I mean a lot. In the World of Huntik, spirits of incredible power, known as Titans, are native to a separate Dimension, also known as Huntik. For generations, the Titans have been summoned to Earth to aid humanity, with the most famous being the Legendary Titans of Casterwill, an ancient sorcerer who saved the world from the Nullifiers, another species native to Huntik, but are instead pure evil, consumed with nothing less than the desire to see all of reality destroyed and subsumed into them. After their defeat, Titans have been scattered throughout human history, lending their immense power and potential to those people who can bond with the Talismans that act as their method of summoning and anchor in our world; these individuals are known as Seekers. Titans are principally divided into Eight core categories: Draco-Titans, Gaia-Titans, Hecto-Titans, Krono-Titans, Litho-Titans, Meso-Titans, Swara-Titans, and Yama-Titans. Each corresponds to a region of the world in terms of design, though some can seem off theme to some extent, and each has some form of connection to historical myth, legend, and even historical facts. Draco-Titans are a type of Titans featured prominently in European legends, particularly those of Medieval England. The fighting style and noble, chivalrous nature that most of them possess, inspired people to act the same and developed into the code of chivalry followed by knights. Draco-Titans' amulets are usually steel-blue with a grayish-pink gem in the center. Gaia-Titans are a type of Titan which tend to be protective and helpful. Gaia-Titans are strongly tied to nature, particularly wood or plants. Because of these ties, most of them are green or greenish-brown. Some may be covered in bark or leaves, with some even looking like walking trees, such as Dark Dryad. Gaia means Earth in Greek, so these Titans are essentially Earth-Titans or Nature-Titans. Gaia-Titan amulets tend to be a pale silver white with a light green gem. A notable exception is the Amulet of Will for Overlos. Many Gaia Titans are found mainly in Ireland. Hecto-Titans are Titans based upon Egyptian legends. Many Hecto-Titans appear like mummies with a monstrous appearance, earning them a place as the monsters residing in Egyptian tombs. Their terrible nature and taking enjoyment from chaos and destruction means that bonding Seekers need to possess a similar attitude. Their amulets tend to be yellow with blue and green highlights and a pale silver gem in the center. Krono-Titans are Titans that are based off of Greek or Roman mythology. These Titans tend to be warriors, a fitting position considering the war-like nature of the Greeks during ancient history. The word 'Krono-Titan' may be based on Kronos of mythology, the imprisoned Greek Titan and father of Zeus. Krono-Titan Amulets tend to be orange and yellow with an aqua gem. Litho-Titans are a very durable type of Titan because most of them are composed of rocks or ice. Litho-Titans usually carve themselves a place in history, even among humans who know nothing about Seekers or magic. Metagolem became the famous Golem of Prague. Gar-Ghoul inspired the gargoyle statues on the rooftops across Europe. Fenris and Ymir are famous among Norse mythology, being responsible for the birth and death of the world. Litho-Titans act almost as if they want to be known for their power. Lithosphere is the ground part of Earth. Litho-Titan Amulets tend to be stone grey, with occasional light blue highlights for ice-based Titans, and have a purple gem in the center with yellow outline around the gem. Meso-Titans are powerful Titans that are difficult to control. They tend to be aggressive and may cause collateral damage if not watched carefully. Some Meso-Titans control powerful natural forces, such as earthquakes, hurricanes, and tornadoes. Others use combat attacks based on stomping, jumping, and spinning. Meso-Titans often resemble creatures of Native American and Central American stories, such as fierce warriors and totem like monsters. Mesosphere is the middle part of the Earth's atmosphere. Only a Seeker with a very strong will can bond with, let alone control, a Meso-Titan. Meso-Titan Amulets are typically grey with black or yellow highlights and a blue gem. Swara-Titans are a type of Titan, most often used by villains, and are based upon African legends and insects. Like Araknos, a large number of Swara-Titans tend to lean toward arthropods such as arachnids and insects. Swara-Titan Amulets tend to be brown with a darker brown or gold trim and a red gem. Yama-Titans are clever and often overly independent. They often think that their way of doing something is better than their bonded Seeker; because of this, successfully controlling a Yama-Titan can require concentrating exactly on what one wants them to do. Human-like Yama-Titans often have features common to Asian myths, such as clothing or weaponry. Yama-Titans were appropriately common in ancient Asia. People told stories about them, and these stories eventually became myths. Yama-Titan amulets tend to be black with silver highlights with a pale green gem. A notable exception is the ring of Tao since the amulets of Legendary Titans are gold with a gem that matches the Titan. The Legendary Titans are an incredibly rare, powerful type of Titan which were originally controlled by Lord Casterwill and his family and whose Rings and Amulets were later hidden with greater safeguards than the Amulets of any other Titans. The Legendary Titans find their places in the legends of many ancient civilizations and were sometimes considered gods. If a Seeker attempts to use a Legendary Titan without the Amulet of Will or without passing the proper Casterwill test, they may be put under a powerful curse. Three Legendary Titans, Tao, Behemoth, and Araknos, are involved in a ritual to summon Overlos from the Amulet of Will. Because they could technically be considered a sibling species to Titans, I'll include some info on Nullifiers, especially as they can be summoned like Titans. Their isn't a whole lot to say about them, but Nullifiers are often ludicrously powerful, with a bevy of mind-bending abilities as a whole, they largely draw inspiration from the Cthulhu Mythos when it comes to appearance. Nullifiers do not have the standard Classes. In addition to their type, Titans can also be identified by their Class, that is to say, if they are Blasters, Enchanters, Explorers, Scouts, Sentinels, Sharpshooters, Sorcerers, or Warriors. Blasters are those whose specialty lies in high-power blasts as their combat method of choice, and are surprisingly rare. Enchanters are, like Sorcerers, those with principally mystical powers, but are usually geared more towards indirect combat or support, or are associated with more "good" legends as a whole. Explorer Titans are those that excel in espionage, information retrieval, and stealth, distinguishing themselves from Scouts by being larger, more humanoid, and often having more direct combat options. Scouts are often small, with a higher emphasis on information retrieval, spying, and so on, than combat. Sentinels are those which are typically used to guard or watch over something or someone, with a bigger emphasis on durability and defense than the other martial Classes, and are as rare as true Blasters. Sharpshooters are high flying ranged-attackers, with a big emphasis on movement and speed, and while pretty rare in terms of variety, are not as rare as those of Sentinels or Blasters. Sorcerer Class Titans are associated with magical abilities, but often of a darker bent than Enchanters, they are often more likely to be direct attackers as well. Warriors, the absolute MOST common Class, are straight up melee fighters, with the occasional esoteric power thrown in, often wielding swords and shields, or more odd weaponry on occasion. All Seekers, by virtue of the connection they have gained to the Titans, can wield magic. The forms of magical spells Seekers can wield are rather varied, and rather than being marked by specific schools, are instead based on how they are used. It's not something I'd go to much into right now. The nature of the connection that the Titans and their Seekers have is known as the Bond; Titans fresh from Huntik are essentially blank slates when it comes to bonding, and while certain personality types might bond easier, the first bond they gain will always color them when it comes to bonding later. Titans lack true personality when they are first summoned and bonded in our world, communicating mentally with their Seeker through Intuition, feelings, etcetera as opposed to words, and finding the language based thoughts of humans, and Witches, unnatural, not that it will prevent them from obeying. The mentality, thought process, and beliefs of their initial bonded will permanently influence who that Titan can later bond with, as they will invariably bond easiest with those that have a similar personality and attitude to their initial bonded, though the bond can sever if the Seeker's personality changes too much from the mindset that allowed them to bond in the first place. Seekers who've established a particularly strong bond with their Titans are capable of Powerbond, initiating an incredibly powerful transformation that greatly augments the powers and fighting abilities of their Titans and themselves. Anyway, now that the info dump is out of the way, my basis for this crossover is for Luz to be a young Seeker with a reputation for causing havoc. She basically enters the Boiling Isles the same way, but that is when the divergences start. In this AU, I would like to think that the Titan that composes the Isles is a Titan in the Huntik sense, that transported to the Demon Realm and died. As it perished, its essence merged with that of the Demon Realm, and gave rise to the Witches, who are analogous to a hybrid between Titan and Human, though not quite all the way. Titans summoned on the Isles often display heightened intellect and learning ability, and are capable of staying summoned functionally indefinitely so long as they are there, though sufficient injury can dispel them and send them back. Due to her background as a Seeker, however young and inexperienced she may be, Luz is even more used to insanity and danger than her canon self is, and is extremely curious as to the nature of the Isles and its magic (Eda: Can't you cast your own spells already, kid? Luz: Yeah, but not THIS KIND!!!). My biggest issue is finding a way to expand the idea beyond just having Luz use Seeker powers and Titans in the Owl House, with the appropriate butterflies and shenanigans as a result of course, so I've composed a couple of possibilities. My first idea is that Belos is unknowingly connected to the Nullifiers, partially to explain his incredible strength and extremely bizarre abilities compared to the already strange nature of the Isles, and that all his efforts have been unknowingly orchestrated by the Nullifiers to grant them a foothold in the Isles to destroy it and the rest of the Demon Realm, and then move on to Earth. My second idea is a new faction of Seekers, not so much evil as morally grey and with a mixed roster of good and bad, has stationed themselves on the Isles, and are conducting experiments on Titans there; the nature of the experiments is to find new ways of modifying Titans to possess new and interesting abilities for their goals, as well as the creation of genuinely artificial Titans entirely, dubbed Neo-Titans, which, if I got that far, would differ from the rest of their kind in having themes closer to Science Fiction and Alien-life than the mythological basis of their peers, being sleek and technological and possessing powerful abilities beyond the standard. Anyway, this is mostly me ranting, sorry, but if anyone is interested in this or wants to talk or has questions about it, let me, okay? Thank you.

#the owl house #huntik #owl house crossover #luz noceda #emperor belos #huntik: secrets and seekers #huntik: secrets and seekers crossover #huntik: secrets and seekers au #owl house au #alternate history #boiling isles alternate history

26 notes · View notes

blankd · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on The Mitchells vs the Machines

I watched it a while ago and kept forgetting to post my thoughts on it, but some posts here on tumblr recently reminded me.

I disagree with the majority takeaways I see but is that not the spice of life?

As a standalone movie its inoffensive and the writing of it will likely exit my brain in a few months. However I can appreciate that the visual style was different from the typical fare and the mixture of 2d elements for visual embellishments were mostly enjoyable and well-suited for Katie as the POV character.

It's a bit "hyper" for my liking, but that's fine, it's likely intended for an audience that's accustomed to the flood that is the current norm of the internet. It was probably made with GIFable moments in mind and that is the most frequent content that is shared about it, so it certainly succeeded in that regard.

My more critical take is that jokes are delivered at the expense of what could be more authentic themes. Quips are made that draw attention to character flaws or undercut questions the movie should try to answer, but inevitably they are ignored to move onto the next joke or story beat.

The rest would fall more into spoiler territory, so read more for that.

--"They Were Both In the Wrong"

I personally disagree heavily with the thrust of how "both sides" were wrong when the degrees are disproportionate.

I've seen claims that Katie was "as in the wrong" as her father, but she's incredibly patient to the man who does her material harm.

I've yet to have seen someone say specifically what Katie did *wrong* to her father that is at all on par with the *years* he at best hasn't been able to interact with her or worse, actively refused to engage with her interests.

I would generously venture that her flaw was that she was more willing to communicate her feelings to strangers, but she easily talks to her mother and brother- her brother even helps her with her movies and she happily engages him with his own interests, which pivots the point back to how her father is physically/emotionally unavailable and led to the erosion and distance between the two of them.

Due to this, MvM comes across more as Kaite having to do so much more to guide her father rather than a more mutual learning experience for the both of them.

--"Technology that [Dis]Connects"

It's probably beyond the scope and intent of the film, but I was surprised there was no examination about why technology can be more alluring than interacting with physically present people.

For better or worse, the internet can be used as a means of supplementing the validation and acceptance of family. It can also lead to no longer connecting to people around them because of the validation high of appealing to a constantly 'awake' sea of strangers- the spotlight is warmer than the cold reality that they are not the internet image they have cultivated.

For example, the rival 'perfect' family was never revealed to be a carefully constructed highlight reel that Mrs. Mitchell envies, they really were actually that perfect- because that provides an easier punchline than an examination or acknowledgement of how the internet can create unhealthy expectations.

I also can't expect MvM to acknowledge the reality that LGBTA+ people who are rejected by their family resort to seeking a new one through the internet because it would be much harder to redeem/rehabilitate a man defined by being tethered to "old values" if he was homophobic instead of "overprotective" and apprehensive at his daughter's departure from home and her dubious art career.

But hey we got that quick line at the end that Katie likes a girl, so that's a diversity win or something.

(To be clear I'm not expecting a whole parade or even an A or B-plot dedicated to it, but I think it should be acknowledged that this kind of "surprise inclusion" is very easily erased with a change of audio and would be completely unsurprised if this were the case for countries that are homophobic. People can be happy about it, but it is dishonest to pretend that this is a bolder statement than it is.)

In that sense, I do and don't hold MvM to taking a "safer" route about how family always has your back, but this still feels like an important omission considering the focus on technology and its dynamic with the Mitchells.

I will also say that it was also bizarre, to me at least, that the obvious route that her father sees the value of home videos didn't become an active point between him and Katie. Or that Mr. Mitchell's carpentry never really amounts to anything despite having a sentimental wooden moose.

Lastly, I think it's an unintentional, but it's interesting that Katie going to college to pursue her passion is viewed as a Terrible Thing by her father even though if he had his way, he'd be ostensibly living in the woods away from everyone else except his wife.

This isn't a problem, people are a collection of contradictions, but It's fascinating to see what the *narrative* treats as a difficult sacrifice while simultaneously pulling at heartstrings when PAL cites how children ignore their mothers. There's an unexamined comedy that Mr. Mitchell's losing out on his 'passion' to live in the woods away from people is treated as tragic despite the movie's insistence on staying connected with your blood family.

--"The Inconsistent Personhood of AI"

PAL is rightfully angry at being discarded for something new; it's provided as a glimpse of what Katie will do when she finds 'her people' at college.

This in of itself is a good hook, because there is no one universal answer to when a flawed relationship should be mended with compromise or if it's better off being broken for the wellbeing of the ones involved. Family and relationships are not programming, it's a choice and a gamble for whatever it brings but is nonetheless something that must be mutually worked upon.

Initially I thought that PAL was being set up as an exaggerated parallel to Mr. Mitchell. PAL and Mr. Mitchell did their best to provide for their family. PAL and Mr. Mitchell are in different stages of being 'discarded' by their family. PAL and Mr. Mitchell both retaliate at their lack of power in the scenario by using the power granted by their roles to infringe on the autonomy of others for selfish reasons.

PAL even gives a 'chance' for her plan to be halted with, I had assumed this was being set up as the thesis of the movie, about humanity and the value of family, relationships, etc. being used to help someone who is already hurting.

But despite Katie looking at the camera and explaining herself, it is never actually directly resolved or challenged because a punchline was deemed more desirable for this narrative climax.

This begs the question of why PAL bothered with the pretense that she could be reasoned with, especially since this is not some question leveled at all of humanity, just two people.

I'm curious how the writers came to the conclusion that this was the best execution of the scene or if Katie's speech was considered immune to any challenge from PAL. Would anyone have accepted this outcome if PAL were not an AI but instead a person?

It's not necessarily bad writing they went this route, but I doubt anyone would consider this good writing either.

By the end of the movie, PAL is no longer a 'person' who was betrayed and is lashing out, she is an object to be destroyed because the movie has to wrap up. No compassion or chances are spared to this AI that did literally everything asked of her except take being discarded quietly.

Did PAL deserve a redemption arc? For this length of movie, probably not. But it could have concluded with a commitment to doing no further harm. Instead it is an accidental glimpse at how easily the pretense of compassion can be quickly discarded and mostly unexamined with the right framing.

A likely unintentional example is the conditional humanity given to Eric and Deborahbot who are adopted as "family" while the rest of the robots are mowed down without another thought. Some are even beaten and broken while begging for mercy, because again, it is a funnier punchline.

Far be it for me to advocate that the murderbots needed 'a second chance uvu' but for a movie whose conceit rests on 'sticking by family' and 'giving chances', the writers certainly made a choice in deciding which AI get honorary humanity and spared violent death- perhaps PAL had a point about humanity's callousness after all. Bad robots are discarded, good robots get to live.

Even the CEO who realizes he enabled this mess (easily the most unrealistic part of the movie, honestly) is given another chance and he manages to take away a completely wrong lesson.

Speaking of-

--"Maybe I Shouldn’t Have Used Tech Like This"

There's a particular image/gif set posted about MvM with the CEO apologizing for the machine uprising, attributing it to unchecked technology and monopolies. I've always seen it accompanied by people congratulating the scene as if any of this is at all relevant to the movie.

Charitably, these are people who haven't watched the movie and don't know that PAL is a phone AI single-handedly doing this, but most take the stance that this scene is proof the movie is not saying technology is bad, only corporations are.

The speech isn't technically wrong but it is so utterly divorced from what happens in the movie that it's surreal to see people congratulate it as anything but a moment of soapboxing.

None of the datagrabbing was used at all as part of the takeover. It's all magical kid-friendly terminators with no relevance to what anyone's browsing history is. If the company was one that produced robot assistants instead of a being a super tech monopoly, there would be no narrative difference.

The closest to a predatory tactic that is used in MvM is the offer of free wifi which is used to lure most people into their cells which they happily comply with. Curiously this... commentary of people’s mindless addiction to technology is not acknowledged by the Tumblr Court with the same intensity as the CEO’s speech.

But more constructively, I do feel it’s a missed opportunity that Katie who's supposed to be an extremely online person apparently never said any bad things about her family or made any petty vent films for PAL to weaponize. Instead an in-media audio at one of the outskirt locations was used to accomplish its Traitor Revealed moment.

IN CONCLUSION

MvM is a movie that involves topics that ought to be touched on and explored properly in media and chickens out on all of it due to possible concerns with age-appropriate handling or because it was more committed to its comedy than whatever it has to say about family, change and how technology affects people.

It also reminded me that I hope media will finally graduate from the trope that if you spec into any ‘outdoorsy’ hobby you are incurably afraid of technology.

#the mitchells vs the machines #let me ramble to you #text post #hot takes probably

18 notes · View notes

loosescrewslefty · 5 years

Text

Miraculous Ladybug- Fixing the Powers

I’ve been very much bothered by the way that the writing team for Miraculous Ladybug has been handling powers for a long time now. It might not be as frustrating or offensive as how they sometimes treat the characters and their relationships, but it BOTHERS me. Because it doesn’t make sense that Adults are more powerful than kids just by the grace of being an adult if the magic comes from a kwami and the jewelry and as such the age of the wearer shouldn’t matter as much. And objectively speaking, there as several ‘minor’ miraculouses that seem WAY more powerful than the two that are supposed to be the most coveted, the Ladybug and Chat Noir miraculouses. Also both the addition of the potions AND the distinctions given to some of the miraculouses/kwamis (Such as Pollen being the ‘Kwami of Subjugation’) are just... ODD. So a while back I sat down and charted out a way to ‘fix’ the powers in Miraculous Ladybug, much like I’ve seen others fix plots and characters.

More Clearly based on Yin/Yang, Wu Xing, and the Zodiacs

I can’t tell you how much it annoys me that Astruc clearly chose these Chinese motifs for the aesthetic, and didn’t bother researching or properly applying any of the theology attached to them to his show. Ladybug and Chat Noir SHOULD be equal, and balance one another out, but they’re not. Instead, Ladybug gets way more power and importance than Chat Noir does. And the Wu Xing Cycle is an important one too, because that’s nature holding itself in check.

The Wu Xing has four different cycles attached to it; the Creation Cycle, the Destruction Cycle, the Insult Cycle, and the Controlling Cycle. It could have been interesting to lean into this, so that pairing two miraculous heroes together can lead to new powers being unlocked, depending on the two in question, and that if a Hawkmoth happens, there are two heroes other than Ladybug and Chat who’d be able to step up and confront him.

New Stations/Distinctions for the Kwamis

It bothers me that the distinctions chosen for the Kwami feel extremely random, and don’t fit together at all. Nooroo is “Generosity”, Trixx is “Deception”, Pollen is “Subjugation”, Wayzz is “Protection”, and Duusuu is “Emotion.” Like, on their own these are fine. But none of them really relate to one another in a way that makes sense, which the Wu Xing SHOULD. As much as it annoys me, I can sorta understand why it would be a bad idea to attach the specific elements themselves to each Miraculous, because then people will expect the powers of that miraculous to relate to that element, which is very limiting. The Wu Xing is about much more than just nature and the elements. It’s also used to reference the passing of time, physical parts of the body, emotions, cardinal directions and so much more.

But I still feel that the Distinctions for each Kwami and their powers should be presented in a what where it makes sense to see them relating to one another. One way I’ve suggested for people to do this is to include Ladybug and Chat in the consideration and base each of the Kwamis off of one of the Seven Chakras. But another way I like much better is to consider the kwamis in relation to what area their abilities will affect. For Example; Fox- Mind (Wood) Bee- Energy (Fire) Turtle- Body (Earth) Peacock- Soul (Metal) Butterfly- Heart (Water)

These are things you can tell at a glance relate to one another, without limiting the kwamis too much to being one trick ponies. And speaking of limits...

Limits are based on internal balance, not age

In an effort to make the sage figure that is supposed to be Fu NOT look like he has sand for brains and decided it’d be a good idea to give his chosen heroes a massive handicap against the villain right out of the gate, we’re going to change up the limiter for the Miraculouses. Rather than being based on age, the thing that determines how well you use a miraculous is your affiliation with the element/distinction that the Miraculous represents. Let’s use Kim as an example here. He’s very energetic and driven, so he’d have a great time with either the Bee or the Turtle, but give him the Peacock, the Butterfly, or the Fox, and things will get a hell of a lot harder for him. On the exact flip side, Juleka would be great with the Peacock, Butterfly, or Fox, but would struggle with the Bee or the Turtle.

Having the powers draw off of being able to synchronize with that power/ability due to personality makes sense, and is more true to the concepts that Miraculous Ladybug is trying to present than claiming that it’s because of age. And the beauty of this is that people can grow and change at any point in their life, which means that they can learn and change and miraculouses that they once struggled with can become easier for them to use while ones they once used easily can slip from their grasp if they begin to neglect that aspect of themselves.

More Clear and Understandable Power Pyramid

This is one of the things that bothers me MOST about how they’ve been handling the powers. We’re supposed to see Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculouses as the be all/end all, but many of the zodiac miraculouses seem much more powerful than them, and even the Peacock and Butterfly can create opponents that are more than a match for the Lucky Duo. Not to mention the fact that, as I said before, the Lucky Duo itself is imbalanced due to Ladybug getting all the power in their relationship. So the best way to fix that?

Power Pyramid.

By this, I mean that instead of all miraculouses just getting one power and calling it a day, it makes more sense to present the powers as an almost ‘trickle’ effect. To start off, Zodiacs get defined by a single element and whichever side of Yin/Yang they fall on, and get their power based on that. For example, the Dragon. That is a Yang/Earth (Body) Personality, who uses the elements in an aggressive way. Meanwhile, Snake is a Yin/Fire (Energy), so they require someone who comes across as passive, but is actually patient and knows to wait for the precise moment to strike.

Next level up from the Zodiac Miraculouses, we have the Wu Xing/Elemental Miraculouses. Rather than just one power, each Wu Xing Miraculous should get two, one based on it’s “Yin” Abilities, and one for it’s “Yang.” the way I broke it down when I was working this out for examples went like so;

Trixx

Fox Powers/Mind

Yang- Mirage

Creates an illusion of the user’s choosing.

Yin- Outfox

Gives the user the ability to convince the victim that anything they’re saying is true.

Pollen

Bee Powers/Energy

Yang- Nectar

Ability to heal injuries and cure illnesses (not as strong as Miraculous Cure)

Yin- Sting

Causes temporary paralysis

Wayzz

Turtle Powers/Body

Yang- Shell-ture

Creates an impenetrable shield

Yin- Withdraw

Teleportation ability that allows the user to put people and object of their desire in a pocket dimension of their own making for protection.

Duusu

Peacock Powers/Soul

Yang- Good Spirits

Creates a golem/familiar of sorts that is bonded to a certain person or object and protects them at all costs.

Yin- Soul Search

Allows the user to leave their body and enter another persons to take control of their actions and peer into their memories.

Nooroo

Butterfly Powers/Heart

Yang- Metamorphosis

Creates heroes to fight alongside the user

Yin- Butterfly Effect

Allows a brief glimpse into the future

And then after the Elements, at the top of the Pyramid we have Ladybug and Chat Noir, who get a whopping FIVE power each, but can only access those powers when they are in tune with that aspect of themselves, much like using the lesser miraculouses. For Example, Marinette’s Ladybug Can easily do the Mind, Energy, and Heart powers, but has a much, MUCH harder time with the Soul one, because she tends to read people at face value rather than trying to see beneath the surface. Adrien’s Chat Noir is excellent with the Body and Energy powers, but struggles much more with Mind (linked to one’s creativity) and Heart (Based on people’s abilities to connect with others, something Adrien struggles with after being home schooled his entire life) My idea for the Ladybug and Chat Noir powers look like this;

Tikki

Ladybug Powers:

Positive Heart- (Healing)

Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous Cure

Heals all wounds, restores everything to its proper state

Positive Mind- (Inspiration)

Lucky Charm

Grants Ladybug an object to help her win

Positive Energy- (Creating)

Wish Come True

Allows Ladybug to will into existence something of her own choosing

Positive Body- (Protecting)

Elytron

Allows Ladybug to recreate both her own suit and the suits of her allies to help them fight (space suits, ice skating form, underwater suits, ect)

Positive Soul- (Life)

Red Thread

Ladybug has a limited ability to communicate with plants and animals, extending some of her power to them. Also works on humans, if the person trusts Ladybug enough to basically let her see into their very soul.

Plagg

Chat Noir Powers:

Negative Heart- (Toxicity)

Cat Scratch

Curses the victim with a lingering sickness that can only be healed by Ladybug.

Negative Mind- (Madness)

Cheshire Cat

Causes temporary insanity, which varies from victim to victim.

Negative Energy- (Destruction)

Cataclysm

Destroys anything the user touches.

Negative Body- (Weakness)

Catatonic

Puts the victim to sleep.

Negative Soul- (Death)

Catacomb

Allows the user to see, touch and summon spirits/ghosts

And that’s the basic breakdown of how I feel the powers of the ML universe SHOULD be handled instead. Feel free to comment with thoughts and inputs of your own and ask questions if any of this doesn’t make sense! ^^

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #master fu #hawkmoth #ml: ladybug #ml: chat noir #power fix #canon fix #yin/yang #wu xing #zodiacs

4K notes · View notes

sakurasangcl · 3 years

Text

The Old Religion

okay so I was @elyxion‘s exol secret santa! @exolssecretsanta “Mmmh” gave me way to strong force sensitive!jongin feels, so I couldn’t not write this. There’s definitely going to be a second part because this feels like more set up. I may end up reposting it all together or you could consider this a long teaser idk also its totally unedited TT lol I hope you like it <3

Pairing: force sensitive!jongin x force sensitive!reader... eventually lol

genre: suspense (not really fluff or angst idk)

word count: 1.3k

warnings: slight misogyny (the men don’t want y/n in danger but is totally fine)

You had heard of Jedi and Sith, but you were never quite sure what to make of them. One of the elders in your town had taken you to their small home after a festival event.

You were only seven, and she took you inside. She lit a fire and began to warm up the room. Then, she took your hand, brushed back your hair, and looked deep into your eyes. “If you were born when I was young, you would have been a youngling. Perhaps it is a good thing, that you needn’t die in a war or in a massacre. If you look deep within yourself and connect with the universe, you may become more powerful than any of them.”

Her words confused you, but she always refused to clarify them.

After she passed away, you decided to try her words. You were always different from the other kids, an outcast. It didn’t mind you too much, as you had your unique traits. You were told they were jealous of your nature and your ease of communicating with different races and even droids. Your instincts guide you into the lush forest, following a long forgotten path. You end up finding ancient ruins.

The ruins cause shivers to run down your spine, but a certain spot calls to you. There were steps going up and around the ruins, which called to you. It was getting dark, but you hardly noticed. Once at the top, you realized you were on the roof of the ruins. The top was a circle, with a stone seat in the middle surrounded by ruins.

The breeze was warm as it rustled your hair, and you could have sworn you heard a voice that said “sit down, sit here.”

Despite the unfamiliarity of the situation, and your lack of understanding the writing, you walked forward and sat. You sit cross legged and close your eyes, resting your hands in your lap. You take a deep breath, and focus on the world around you. You feel the warmth of the setting suns, the birds calling in the distance, a nearby waterfall… You’re not sure how long you are sitting there meditating, but it’s long dark by the time you open your eyes.

You do your best not to panic, feeling a large presence nearing you. It wasn’t dangerous or really intelligent, nor could it be considered a primitive race. You slowly head down the steps towards the base of the ruins, and soon find yourself face to face with a large lizard creature (similar to a Boga from Utapau). You had heard of these creatures- it was why you were encouraged never to wander into the forest alone. They were carnivores and incredibly dangerous.

But this one seemed calm and curious, tilting its head at you. You knew you were an easy meal, but you also weren’t close enough to the doors of the ruins to try and hide inside.

“Easy there,” you say cautiously, holding out your hands. The creature looks at you intently, analyzing you. “I’m a friend. I mean no harm,” you say firmly, slowly seeing if you could walk around the creature.

It blinks at you, blocking your escape. Fear begins to rise within you, and you hear - or don’t hear - the same voice as before. “Fear not, y/n. Continue with your words, have the beast guide you home.”

You do your best to calm yourself, once again feeling for the energy of the universe that you had been feeling before, as you meditated.

“I mean no harm. Can you guide me home to my village?” you ask, trying to soothe the creature.

The creature squawks at you and turns to its side, looking at you expectantly.

“Are you here to take me home?”

The creature makes the same sound as before, waiting patiently.

You slowly approach it, your hands gentle on its cool, smooth scales. It lowers itself some, and you’re able to use its arm as a step up onto its back. You hold onto the horns its crest, and it quickly slithers off. It’s easier to ride than you expected, but it’s gait is completely unlike a horse or mule’s. There is a side to side motion as opposed to an up and down one, which is hard to catch the rhythm of.

The beast takes you right to the outskirts of your town. You can see panicked villagers by the walls, wondering where you were and calling your name. You slide off the creature and walk into town, everyone relieved. You were too exhausted to speak, and headed straight home. You didn’t even manage to change before you fell onto your bed asleep.

It was then that you dreamt of him.

You knew that you could only dream and see the faces of people you had seen before. But you also knew that you had never seen this man before. His silvery hair covered his dark eyes as he flew on his ship. He was humming softly, and looked up and over at you.

He could see you and you knew it. Before you could apologize or panic, he smirks.

“I knew I’d find someone eventually. But I suppose this time, you found me?” His voice is smooth and soothing, a glint of something in his eyes.

“Tell me one thing. What is your name?” he asks, tilting his head slightly.

“Y/N,” you say, trying to calm your nerves.

“Well Y/N, I’ll be seeing you soon. It may take me a month or two, but I’ll find you,” he stops, chuckling slightly. “Unless, of course, you find me first.” He grins at you once more, and you suddenly find yourself woken up by shrill noises of fright from the villagers and the warning bell.

You hear the men yelling, and the sounds of guns cocking and panic. Somehow, you remained calm. Your curiosity led you outside, but none of the men would answer your questions.

“What’s going on? Who is attacking us? What do they want?” you tried to ask them.

They all had a variant of the same answer- it is not your place to ask. You huff at that, following the chaos.

You run past the men, a sudden need urging you to push on. You run up the stairs to the top of the wall, pushing people out of your way to get up there. Men were yelling, and you looked into the clearing between the woods and the town to see what was wrong. Men were shooting blasters at the lizard beast from yesterday, but it was nimbly dodging their attacks.

You can’t help but crack up at the absurd scene, shaking your head as you are escorted down off the wall.

“You can’t stay here, it’s not safe,” one of the guys your age tells you, wanting you to go back and hide in your home.

“As if,” you mutter under your breath.

You notice the gates opening as bounty hunters are about to be let out, and you make a run for it before they can stop you.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” Someone yells, and you slow your approach to the beast.

It cocks its head and lets out a shrill noise of excitement, heading over to you. You hear men vaguely shouting, and you ignore their fear. You once again touch the creature, surprised once again how docile it was.

Before anyone could stop you, you were on its back heading to the temple once again.

The lizard dropped you off at the bottom of the hill, and you once more made your way up. This time, you attempt to count the stairs but end up giving up, miscounting. Why am I here? Why did this creature bring me here? You wonder, the answers unknown.

When you reach the top, you sit in the middle once more. You leave your eyes open as you begin to relax, and a few thoughts enter your mind with the same somewhat eerie voice as before. “They call it the Old Religion, but it calls to you. You hear us, don’t you Y/N? Fear not, the one who is called Kai will find you soon enough. He is clever and will find you when the time is right…”

#starryktown #exolsecretsanta #jongin x reader #kai x reade #exo fic #jongin fic #exo fanfic #jongin fanfix #sw fanfic

27 notes · View notes