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beejunos · 23 days

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SPEAK TO ME | Alastor x f.reader

Summary: Alastors voice turns you on. Something he loves to take advantage of.

FULL STORY!

Here we have it! The full story! 5k of pure smut. Enjoy darlings! Tags: Dom!Alastor, masturbation, oral, light bondage, fingering, dirty talk

Attraction was a funny thing. It could never be explained, and often, it just appeared one day. Attraction could hit you like a train in the dead of night, but sometimes, it would follow you like a shadow. Whispering sweet words in your ear without making itself too known, not until it was too late, and you realised that you had stayed awake for two hours when you should have been asleep instead of thinking about what someone's hands would feel like on your skin.

Attraction was an annoyance, but lust, its evil twin, was irrational, unpredictable, and, worst of all, it made you stupid.

So incredibly dumb.

The lust had crept up on you like a thief in the night. Stealing your rational mind and sanity, leaving only the body to fend off the raging attraction that wanted to sink its teeth into your tender flesh.

Having a crush on the radio demon was a poor choice and a painful one.

It began weeks ago when you first arrived at the crumbling hotel.

Hazbin Hotel, with its rehabilitation program, had been your last resort after your landlord, who really deserved to be in Hell, kicked you out of your apartment.

You had been tired of fending for yourself, trying to work, feed yourself and find an apartment with a landlord who wasn't a humongous creep. It seemed to be an impossible task in Hell. It wasn't until you heard one of your coworkers talk about the interview on the news with the princess of Hell that you found out about her little redemption project.

The Hazbin Hotel appeared like a lighthouse on the horizon for you, and the prospect of a warm meal and a soft bed was too enticing to pass on.

Charlie had, of course, taken you in straight away and for the first time in days, you felt like you could finally catch your breath.

The bath you took that evening in your own bathroom, connected to your own bedroom, was heavenly. Almost sinful with how much pleasure you took from it.

The next day had been quite overwhelming to you, to say the least. Thrown into the middle of trust exercises with people whom you had known less than 24 hours, where you had, in the span of two hours, visited a bondage club and escaped a turf war that Vaggie had thrown you into. If that was how she had learned to trust others, then maybe you weren't cut out for redemption.

While the other hotel residents turned out to be a wonderful company, one, in particular, made your little sinner's heart skip a beat.

Alastor, the infamous radio demon.

He had ... not been what you had expected.

From all the tales you'd heard of him, you expected a grotesque monster who murdered anyone who would just look at him funny. But he couldn't have been further from the image you had created of him from all the rumours.

First of all, he was beautiful. His soft red eyes were so hypnotising that you feared you would drown in them, with a smile showing rows of sharp teeth. One thing was for sure: Hell would contort any morals and virtues you may have had, and if you had liked the idea of lovers biting your skin during intercourse before, it was now a raving obsession. An obsession that would fule you nightly fantasies for weeks and weeks.

Sometimes, that was the only thing you could think about, his sharp teeth grazing your neck or nibbling your ear.

Alastor was also very charming in his own way. A gentleman by hellish standards. Whenever you were going somewhere in the same direction, he would always hold up doors for you or pull out the chair for you during dinner time. Something you were highly unused to, and it had taken a long time for you not to blush whenever he did it.

Whilst his jokes were lame at best, the conversations you would have late at night by the fireplace were your favourite time of the day. Because you loved his voice. You really loved his voice.

There was something so bewitching with that transatlantic accent and that strange buzzing overlay to how he spoke. It made it sound like he was far away when he was, in fact, right in front of you, and the gentle buzzing had made you tremble more times than you could count.

Something that you suspected that Alastor had caught on to with how often he would appear behind you, only to put his head right beside yours and say the most innocent things that would make you react in the most sinful ways.

The day he had started to call you 'my dear' had been a day you would never forget, for you had laid awake all night imagining him whispering those exact words in your ear as you brought yourself to climax. Again, again, and again.

You had had a tough time the day after looking him in the eyes without thinking of all the times you had desperately whispered his name into your pillow with your fingers between your legs.

"What's this?" you asked, surprised as you sat down to eat breakfast. On the table sat a red present with a big black bow right in front of the seat you always occupied. You could recognise Rosies' gift rapping technique anywhere.

"It is a gift, my dear. Open it," answered Alastor and sat down to your right at the end of the table.

You and Alastor were always the two residents in the hotel who were awake first: You because you wanted to spend as much time as possible with the strange but charming sinner. Unfortunately, he had the habit of disappearing during the day, so you only ever had the morning and the night to talk uninterrupted with him. You also suspected that Alastor barely slept because, after your evening chats, when you went to bed, Alastor would go up to his radio tower to host his show, and you had no idea when he would end them.

You opened the gift slowly as if savouring it, trying not to get too excited about having gotten a gift from Alastor when, in reality, you just wanted to rip it open.

Inside the box was a beautiful antique radio in pristine condition. The dark wooded exterior was smooth and shiny as if someone had just polished it, and it made you almost not want to touch it in case you left fingerprints on it.

You looked up at Alastor, whose smile seemed to grow as he looked at you.

"I remember you telling me that you had never had the pleasure of hearing my radio show, and now you can listen to it whenever you want!"

At times like these, you wondered if Alastor knew of your slightly obsessive crush on him. He struck you as a man who liked to play with his food.

The radio turned out to be a great gift that you used almost religiously. Every evening, when you were preparing to go to bed, you would turn on the radio and listen to Alastor's radio show. You would have the radio on softly in the background as you walked around your room doing your nightly routine. Sometimes, you would even invent stuff for you to do so you could stay up longer just so you could listen to his voice.

It was almost like he was in the room with you, talking just to you about anything he found interesting. On the odd occasion, Alastor would incorporate a passive-aggressive threat into the show for some poor sinner getting in his way, but that never scared you. In fact, you looked forward to those instances.

Alastors' voice would drop and get darker, reminding everyone who listened that he was still dangerous—a predator waiting to strike.

A wolf in sheep's clothing, and what a stupid sheep you were. Yearning for the wolf bite.

Halfway through your night routine, you turned on your radio at a soft, pleasant volume, and Alastor's smooth voice filled the otherwise silent room.

"Salutations, friends and hellish residents! Tonight, we have a splendid assortment of the latest news and the best Hell has to offer in jazz, but before we chitchat about our dear city's hellish affairs, here is the newest music from Miss Jezebel and The Wicked Six!"

Slow and sultry jazz music started to play on the radio. The woman who sang had a deep, smoky quality that was inherently sexy to you. There was just something about women who sang with deep voices that made your hips sway from side to side, effortlessly dancing across your room as you started to strip, pretending there was someone there who enjoyed the show you put on.

You turned off all the lights except the small lamp by your bed and crawled under the thick blanket. Leaving the radio on as you made yourself comfortable, hugging one of your pillows close to you.

The song ended, and Alastor came back. This time, he started talking about the news. Since the news sometimes made you too sad to sleep, you never really listened to what he was saying; you only listened to his voice—his tone, the cadence of his speech, and his transatlantic accent.

You let his voice wash over you like a soothing balm to your aching body, but soon, you felt the familiar tingles run up your back. Warmth pooled low within you as you shifted in your bed, lying on your back. The desire to touch and be touched grew in you, to move, to grind, to satisfy the urge for sex.

Closing your eyes and letting your hands wander over your body, you start by slowly dragging your fingertips over your sensitive throat, making sure that your light fingertips touch all the places that made you weak.

Your hands travel from your throat down to your chest. Palming your breasts in your hands, you drag your nails over your sensitive nipples. Pinshin, pulling and rolling them between your fingers till they are warm and hard.

Your senses sharpen as you start to feel more intensely, but your mind goes hazy, making it hard to think clearly. Alastors voice is but background noise now that edges you on.

One hand stays on your breast as the other journeys down, down, down and under your underwear.

You slowly drag your finger between your lips, coating your finger in your wetness as you slowly pull it towards your clit. A breathless gasp is pulled from your mouth the first time your finger comes in contact with your sensitive clit. Slowly and with the lightest touch, you start to circle the organ, and what feels like electricity builds in your loins.

You can't help but move in your bed, legs bending and toes curling as you give yourself the pleasure that you wished Alastor would provide you. Your hand that previously played with your breast joined your other hand, and you let out a not-so-subtle moan as you pushed two fingers into you. Desperately, you curl your fingers inside you to increase the pleasure.

You want it. You need it. Your toes curl almost painfully as Alastors name falls from your lips like a prayer.

You're so close. So close you can see stars behind your eyes. You breathlessly chase that sweet release. Building, and building, and building. Your legs are shaking as you bite your lips. Hips lift from the mattress as you fight the urge to close your legs.

You are so, so close.

"What are you doing, my dear?"

Cold dread crashes through your body as you rip your hands away from your body. You frantically look all over your room in the shadows. Looking for that all-knowing smile and calculating red eyes.

His voice had been so close and clear that he had to be in your room. It had felt like he had spoken to you right beside your ear. But you were alone. No one was in your room but you.

"Such a naughty little creature you are, my dear. So desperate to be touched."

Goosebumps travel up your back as you slowly turn in the direction you hear his voice. On your nightstand is the radio that Alastor gave you. It is still on, but the yellow light of the display has turned red.

Towering over you in your bed, you almost feel like he is watching you. Observing you as you lay naked before him. Your blankets were by the end of the bed as you had kicked them off a long time ago.

"Can't even listen to me talking without having to touch yourself. My oh my, what will I ever do with such a bad little doe, hm?"

Shaking all over, you lunged for the radio's electrical cord and jerked it out of the outlet. The radio fell silent as you collapsed in your bed. Spent, but not satisfied. However, you soon start to tremble all over again over the fact that Alastor had listened to you pleasuring yourself, and he seemed to like it.

You would be lying if you said you had a good night's sleep after that fateful evening—or if you said you had slept at all.

You had stayed up all night replaying the previous night's events, unable to comprehend what you had been through. Had it really happened? Had Alastor really listened to you masturbate while you were moaning his name? It had almost felt like a fever dream had you not stared at the pulled-out electrical cord for the radio all morning.

The clock on your dresser kept ticking as you sat in your black dressing gown on your bed. The time was about to turn nine, and you had not stepped a foot outside of your bedroom, too scared to face the man after your night. You knew you had to leave your bedroom sooner or later, but you were waiting until you were sure that Alastor would have gone for the day to do whatever he usually did during the day. As soon as you were sure that you would not encounter him in the hallway, you would sneak out of your bedroom and go down to the kitchen to steal all the snacks you needed to survive the day cupped out in your own room, like the coward you intended to be.

It was one thing to fantasise about Alastor naked, but it was a completely different thing to now face the possibility that maybe he would like to see you naked, too.

Three knocks were heard from your door out of nowhere before Alastor slammed the door open and stepped in with a silver tray full of food in his band. You let out a small yelp before climbing further up into the bed to get away from the other sinner, who waltzed into your room as if he owned the place.

"My dear, what are you doing in bed at this hour? Don't you know that you've missed breakfast?" Alastor's voice was laced with a hint of amusement as if he found your predicament delightful. He walked over to the little table and armchair you had in front of the unused fireplace on the opposite wall to the bed and sat down the tray on the table before conjuring a matching armchair out of thin air. He sat down as if nothing was out of the ordinary and leaned his cane against the armrest as soft jazz music began playing.

As you sat on your bed, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in your underdressed state, you watched in disbelief as Alastor, seemingly unperturbed by your unease, crossed his legs and settled into your room. His casual demeanour, coupled with his humming along to the music, only served to deepen your sense of bewilderment, and you were sure that you were hallucinating.

You must have eaten something terrible yesterday, and maybe everything you thought happened last night and now was all in your head.

"Are you going to eat or not? Your food is getting cold, my dear."

The look Alastor gave you from the corner of his eye told you that it was in your best interest to sit in the armchair in front of him and eat.

You slowly left the safety of your bed and walked over to Alastor. However, the steps you took on the way were tiny, considering that your dressing gown ended in the middle of your thighs, and you didn't want to flash him accidentally. Not caring about the look you got from Alastor, you shuffled your feet across the room and sat down in the armchair, struggling as you continued to keep your legs as close together as possible.

With shaking hands, you took the small coffee cup and were about to put it to your lips for a sip when Alastor spoke up again:

"Aren't you forgetting something, my dear?"

The look he was giving you made shivers travel up and down your spine. Shivers dipped in fear with a hint of excitement. He had never looked at you so intensely before.

"Thank you for bringing me breakfast," you whispered hoarsely.

"Good girl." You almost choked on your coffee, "And you're welcome."

You had a tough time looking into his eyes after that comment as your cheeks grew warmer and warmer.

Without warning, Alastor began to talk about everything that needed to be done that day. Apparently, Niffty had found a cockroach infestation in the basement, and Charlie had decided they would use chemicals instead of Niffty's needle, which she liked stabbing them with.

Alastor kept talking on and on about work and the hotel as you ate. On the outside, you kept calm as you finished the last of your breakfast, but on the inside, you wondered if he would mention what had happened yesterday. Had it even happened?

Maybe it hadn't, and your obsessive crush had finally broken you.

"Ah, I see that you have finished your breakfast! Well, I best be on my way!" With a snap of his finger, Alastor made the breakfast tray disappear into a red cloud. He did, however, leave the extra chair he had conjured up.

"Could you be a doll and tell Vaggie that I'll need the documents later today and that she can leave them in the bar? I need to head out today, and I don't think I'll be back until this evening," said Alastor as he stood up, brushing invisible dust off his impeccable suit.

"Uhm, sure. I'll do that. Just close the door when you leave, please," you answered as you looked as Alastor made way for the hallway door. He waved absentmindedly over his shoulder in affirmation of your request.

A small part of you were disappointed that this little breakfast meeting had turned out the way it had, no matter how confounding it had been. If only you could have gotten a hint from Alastor about what he was thinking and why he frankly was there.

Maybe he had just brought you breakfast from the goodness of his heart? Or he had just missed your company that morning since you usually only got to talk uninterrupted in the morning.

You turned around to walk to the bathroom as he left your room. Letting your shoulder slump in disappointment, you wondered what you would do that day. You remembered that Charlie had mentioned that it would be nice if the hotel's garden were more well-kept but that she couldn't hire a gardener just yet.

That could be the thing you did today. Find some gardening tools and surprise Charlie by pulling out all the weeds in the flowerbeds.

Oh, what a joy, you thought sarcastically as you started to open the bathroom door. However, it slammed close hard in front of you as a hand shot forward and a hard chest pressed into your back.

All around you began shadows to dance as if they were made of mist, and the air got charged with a static you were all too familiar with. The shivers came back, but your whole body shivered this time as his other hand gripped your hip, pressing you closer to him, but the only thing you could focus on was his breath fanning over your ear as he whispered:

"I will be back at eleven tonight, and when I get back, I will find you in your bed, naked, waiting on me. You are not allowed to touch yourself, and don't try to defy me, my dear, for I will know if you do."

In a heartbeat, Alastor was gone, and your body instantly felt colder. Shaking all over, your knees finally gave away under you, and you collapsed in front of your bathroom door.

Behind you, the radio began to play softly—the same music Alastor had played during breakfast. Looking at the blasted thing, you could see that the radio wasn't plugged in.

The clock was about to strike a quarter to eleven, and you had been a nervous wreck for the past three hours. Time couldn't have gone by slower as you constantly turned to look at the clock hands to see how far they had moved.

You had tried to distract yourself during the day with the gardening, but you constantly got distracted by all the fantasies you had of what Alastor would do to you. Turned out that it was really hard to work when horny.

As you looked at the clock again, you re-adjusted in your bed for what felt like the thousandth time. 22:47.

Ugh, this is taking forever!

Laying down again, you looked over at the radio on your nightstand. It had been quiet since the morning, but you still waited to hear the tiniest sound from it that would indicate that Alastor was with you. But nothing came.

You turned on your side to continue staring at the radio as you took one of your pillows and pressed it against you. The air in your room was cold against your skin, yet you ignored your chilled skin, for the mere thought of what would happen tonight warmed you from the inside out.

The benefit of laying on your side was that you now could feel the slickness between your legs, coating almost all of the insides of your thighs. You knew that Alastor had said that you were not allowed to touch yourself, but he had never specified in what way you could not touch yourself, and if you didn't get some of your release soon, you felt like you would spontaneously ignite.

Slowly, you started to press your legs together as you rubbed them against each other. Sweet pressure was building up the pleasure within you as you pressed your face into the pillow. Harder and harder, you tried to push your legs together, increasing the pleasure you had longed for all of them.

Close, you were so close, and the excitement of defying Alastor just heightened the experience.

You only needed one more push until you would fall over the edge into sweet release, but it never came as something grabbed onto your ankles and roughly pulled your legs apart.

"I must say, I am really disappointed in you, my dear."

From the shadows stepped Alastor out and looked down at you from the end of the bed, but what scared you the most was that he was not smiling.

Looking down at you from heavily hooded eyes, Alastor dragged your body further down the bed, keeping your legs spread out with the help of his shadow tentacles.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it," you pleaded, hoping he would show you mercy, but from the looks of it, you would not be shown any.

"Don't lie to me. You know very well what you did." With a snap of his finger, the armchair Alastor had conjured earlier that day dragged across the floor and stopped behind him. He sat down and made himself comfortable, looking over at you as he had a full view of between your legs.

"Now, darling, since you didn't listen to me, there will be consequences," said Alastor, crossing his legs and leaning his head in his hand lazily. You pressed up on your elbows to look over at him, and while his body language did not look interested, his eyes were sharp, focusing on your wetness that glistened in the light from the chandelier.

"One, you are not allowed to touch me."

"What?!" you cried, the fear that you had ruined your only chance with Alastor burning within you like a forest fire.

"Silence." You instantly shut your mouth as static filled the air and prickled your skin. Alastor's antlers had grown in size. He sighed and continued when he was sure that you would not say one more word.

"As I was saying, you are not allowed to touch me, but I can touch you however I want. If you wish me to stop, you will simply say television. Understod?"

"Yes."

"Yes, and?"

"Yes, sir?" You weren't sure what Alastor wanted to hear, but from the smirk that started growing on his lisp, you were sure that you had said the right thing.

"What a good little doe you are, my dear." Whilst you were sure that was said condescendingly, you could not help the pride that grew in you that he thought you were good for him. A small yelp was pulled from your lips as you felt Alastors tentacles start to massage their way up your legs.

"You seemed to like my voice so much, my dear, that I thought you must love it if I command you as well. Isn't that what you want? For me to tell you exactly what to do to you and how to do it? Wouldn't you like to put on a show for me, darling?"

Your brain was short-circuiting as you could not get a single word out. The only thing you could do was nod enthusiastically as Alastor's shadow tentacles gently began to play with your lips between your legs without touching your clit.

"Lovely." said Alastor, now giving you his trademark smile, "Why don't you show me how you touched yourself yesterday? I could hear those delicious sounds you made, my dear, and I want to hear them live."

And so, with shaking hands, you began massaging and caressing your body, making sure that you touched every part of your body that made you sing in pleasure. You wanted to put on a show, but you were so eager, so impatient as you played with your body that you could not bear the thought of prolonging this torture.

You needed to be touched, and you needed it now.

Dipping your hand between your legs, you could feel Alastors tentacles pull away from your genitals but keep a firm grip on your thighs. The first time you touched your clit was electric, as you made sure to look Alastor deep in the eyes when you did it. A soft moan from you filled the air.

Rolling the tip of your finger lazily against your clit you looked on with great satisfaction as Alastors eyes dropped from your down to your finger between your legs.

"Drag your fingers between your lips, darling, but before you do, circle your opening. Slowly without pushing in," commanded Alastor, and if you weren't delusional, you thought you heard the desperation in his voice, but his face gave nothing away. He readjusted in the chair by uncrossing his legs, giving you a full view of his hard cock in his pants.

Never had you been filled with the need to fall on your knees and suck someone's cuck as if it was what you were created to do as you did now. You licked your lips and whined loudly as you circled the opening to your vagina with your finger, wishing it was Alastors finger or tongue that did it instead.

After circling for some time, you pulled your finger through your lips up to your clit and began touching your clit again. This time, with additional wetness, you let all the sounds you wished to make leave your mouth as you quickened the speed of your finger.

"That's it, darling, you are doing so well." Whispered Alastor as he leaned forward in his chair, "When you feel like you're about to cum, remove your finger immediately."

The demand almost made you want to cry, but from the look Alastor was giving you, you did not want to challenge him. Savouring the feeling of your fingers a few seconds more before you removed your fingers from your clit that begged your release. The orgasm that had been at the tip of your fingers slowly fizzled out as you started to calm down.

You looked at Alastor, who had moved from his chair to sit on the bed by your feet, waiting for his following instructions.

"What a treasure you are, darling. So willing, so needy."

Alastor lifted his hand and, with the back of his fingers, caressed the inside of your thigh. The touch was so charged that it felt like you could cum from that mere touch alone. As your leg twitched from his touch, Alastor's tentacle tightened around your leg, pulling you closer to him. Your breath got stuck in your throat as you watched Alastor climb onto the bed, sitting on his knees between your legs.

"How long have you dreamt of this? How long have you been mine without me knowing it?" The look in Alastor's eyes grew increasingly intense as he leaned over you, looking down at you with an almost mad look in his red eyes. Out of nowhere, Alastor pushed two fingers inside of you and curled them, making your hips lift from the bed involuntarily at the pleasure.

"How long, my dear? Answer me," he growled as his antlers grew. You could barely breathe as he continued to curl his finger repeatedly inside you, hitting the spot that made your toes curl.

"Since... since I first met you!" you cried as your breathing quickened. Above you, Alastor chuckled darkly as he put his free hand on your left thigh.

"So long. We have much time to catch up to, don't we, dear?"

You could barely comprehend a single word that left his sinful mouth as you neared the orgasm you desperately wanted. And had you not made the mistake you would have made, you would have cum on Alastors finger.

In your lustful haze, you placed your hand on Alastors arm, holding your thigh. Instantly, Alastor recoiled from you, and the second orgasms you had almost tipped over were ripped from you.

"What did I say about not touching me?"

Two new tentacles came out of nowhere and wrapped around your arms, pulling them above your head.

As you begged and pleaded for forgiveness, the weight of your desperation was palpable. You implored Alastor not to leave you like this with every fibre of your being. The thought of losing him now was unbearable, and you knew that if he did leave, it would be the end of you.

Your legs shook from the strain of being in the same position for so long. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. You were overwhelmed with emotion, your heart aching with the fear and uncertainty of what would happen next. The tension in the air was unmistakable, and you held your breath, waiting for Alastor's response.

But he only looked at you from under heavy lids. Slowly, he lifted his hand that had fingered you and licked the wetness that was still on it.

"If you think I would leave you now, my dear, you are indeed mistaken. You are mine now, and I will do with you as I please." Grabbing both of your legs under your knees, Alastor pulled you towards him before bending you backwards so your toes almost touched the bed beside your hands. He stared deep into your eyes as he put his tongue against you and licked you from your vaginas opening up to your clit. The sound you made had been ungodly and would have been a miracle if no one else in the hotel had heard you.

Alastor quickly started to suck and lick your clit as your legs began to shake. You could feel the sinner's claws dug into your flesh as he grew increasingly frantic in his administration, acting almost like someone who had just been presented with a glass of water after 12 days in the desert.

Pressure built up within you for the third time, this time stronger and more intense than the previous ones. Closer and closer, he took you to the edge you wished to fall from.

Shaking, twisting, and pulling against your restraint, you let Alastors name fall from your lips loudly as you looked at him, giving you pleasure. Blood was dripping down from your thighs where his claws had dug into your skin, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the sweet release that you begging for.

"Close, Alastor, I'm so close," the words tumbled out of you in a whisper as you looked on as the man licked your clit with the tip of his tongue. The only thing Alastor did was briefly look up at you as he continued to give you pleasure.

Closer, closer, and then you fell.

The orgasm ripped through your body like a tidal wave, making your thighs tremble uncontrollably. Your toes curled almost painfully as you threw your head back in ecstasy.

You had no idea when Alastor had put your legs back down, but suddenly, when you came to it, he was sitting by your head, gently brushing your hair from your sweaty forehead.

"What a good little doe you were for me, my love."

Thank you for reading my little story! I hope you like it!

Taglist: @mossingvines @kitty-kei @chibistar45

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angel-eyes05 · 1 year

Text

a spider in the snow

pairing: fem!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: you help rehabilitate an injured miguel after he returns from one of his late night patrols…in more ways than one

warnings: nsfw, fluff then smut then fluff, handjob (both m and f recieving), blood mention, an incy wincy tincy bit of angst

word count: 2.5k

notes: heyyyyy i've come back from the dead. i don't really write a lot of one shots so go easy on me for this one. just like every horny person on the internet, i’ve fallen head over heels in love with miguel o’hara. this is me giving into my impulses lmao. sorry if i do anything thats out of character idk him that well so just work with me here. i also don't know everything about nueva york and if names are different than here or something so im just gonna pretend they’re the same. if they are, great! if not, just go with it lmao. one more thing, despite being cuban i am a no sabo kid (rip me) so i had to use a translator for some of this so apologies in advance if some things aren't super accurate. ok lets get on with the show.

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Snowy nights in Nueva York have always been one of your favorite parts about moving up north. Seeing all the lit up buildings illuminated in the snow, all the people ice skating in Rockefeller Center rink just below your apartment window, the reminders of Christmas coming soon. It kept your heart warm against the freezing temperatures outside. You also loved the feeling of being able to bundle yourself up in blankets and hoodies, a mix of yours and your boyfriend’s, having an excuse to make hot chocolate, and finally being able to use the fireplace that normally laid dormant in the middle of your living room. The one con about the snow was when it would land on Miguel’s patrol nights. Your already nervous mind was only heightened by the added uncertainty of everything that could happen while he was out there. What if he got too cold while out there and it affected his ability to fight? What if it started snowing too hard and he wouldn’t be able to find his way back to the apartment? You knew some of your concerns were probably dumb, but they felt serious to you.

This was one of those nights. One of the nights where you would sit on your couch, next to the cracked window, unable to sleep until you could see him come back safe. You flipped through the channels of the tv aimlessly, trying to find something to keep your mind off of the growing cold outside. You eventually turn it off after coming across the weather channel, claiming a snowstorm would be rolling into the city in about 15 minutes. Deciding there was nothing you could do about your situation, you walked over to your bedroom and wrapped yourself in your massive duvet to shield from the cold. Worries dashed around your mind about everything that could happen. Despite being verbally supportive about Miguel and his…hobbies, you really hated the idea of him sneaking out in basically pajamas almost every night to “beat up the bad guys” essentially. Even though he had explained everything to you by this point, having been dating for about three years now, you still couldn’t quite understand everything. Radioactive spiders? Corrupt businesses? Fangs and claws? Mutations? A multiverse? It was a lot to wrap your head around. But, despite all of this, all of your worries and concerns over Miguel, you stayed. Because you knew you didn’t start dating him because of his whole superhero business or whatever. You were dating him because you loved him. The real him. The way he would always press gentle kisses into the crook of your neck. How on his days off, you would be woken up to the smell of eggs and bacon cooking in the kitchen just for you. How he would always whisper sweet praises to you while you would give him head. How easily he could be crumbled down beneath his rock hard exterior. The Miguel underneath the red and blue spandex. You dreamt of this as you slowly fell into a calm slumber. You fell asleep bundled up in all the blankets on your bed, arm outstretched to the opposite side the bed, almost as if you were reaching for something that wasn’t there.

After some time had passed, you’re not sure exactly how much, you were awoken by a thud coming from your bathroom. You lazily rubbed your eyes and grabbed your alarm clock to check the time. 3:47 am. Yeah, that’s definitely Miguel in there. You dragged yourself out of bed to help him out, throwing one of this hoodies over your tank top for extra warmth. You also liked how it still smelled like him after three times in the wash. You opened the door, eyes squinting from the bright fluorescent light. And there he was. You found it endearing. How Miguel was trying, and failing, to reach this massive scratch on his back to clean it instead of just waking you up to ask for your help. You look to the floor to find a bottle of hydrogen peroxide sitting there on the rug, probably what caused the thudding sound. You stood there leaning in the doorframe, waiting for him to notice you, even though he probably already heard every step you’ve taken from the bed up to the door now. “You need any help there?” you ask him, jokingly. You had seen him in much worse conditions, so you took moments like these to be more comedic, an attempt to lighten his mood sort of. It didn’t usually work. “No, I got it. Please go back to sleep,” he said, still attempting to wrap his arms around himself. You rolled your eyes and walked over to sit behind him, picking up the hydrogen peroxide off the floor and grabbing a couple of cotton balls from the first aid basket. “Mi amor, please go back to sleep, I promise I can do this by myself,” he argued. Before he could get another word in, you poured some of the hydrogen peroxide over his wound. He groaned in response and squeezed your thigh to help level out the pain. “That’s for worrying me all night,” you said to him, just over the volume of a whisper. As you began to dab the blood off of his cut, he responded. “You know I don’t want you to worry.” Once you could see he was turning his head around to look at you, you turned your eyes away. You didn’t really want to look at him right now. It’s not that you were mad at him. Ok that’s a lie, you were a little mad. But it was more of a helplessness you felt when you would see him like this. Beat up, cut, scratched, bruised. And there wasn’t anything you could do to help. Not until after at least. And it wasn’t like you were a trained nurse or anything. You dreaded the day that he would come stumbling through the window, too injured for you to take care of yourself. Or worse. The day he wouldn’t come home at all. “Yeah, well that doesn’t mean I don’t,” you said sort of coldly. You stood up from your position, waiting to patch up his back until after he showered. You changed your positions to sit from behind him to in front, ready to take care of his front side now. “I don’t want to talk about that right now tho-.” You cut yourself off when you finally saw his face

Cuts were scattered across his face, one above his eyebrow still dripping blood catching your attention first. He also had a bruise quickly forming on his left cheekbone. Once you moved your eyes more, you saw his nose marked with a deep cut going through the middle. His beautiful nose. It was one of your favorite parts of his appearance. Done scanning his face, your eyes moved down to his chest and his torso. His chest was marked with similar cuts to the one on his back. You kept your eyes on his chest in an attempt to hide the fact you were holding back tears right now. “I’m sorry mi cariño. I really am.” You knew he was. But sorry wasn’t going to keep him safe. This was one apology among many. It didn’t really matter. He wasn’t sorry for getting hurt again and again and again. He was sorry for the fact you had to see him like this. If you wouldn’t have seen that he was injured, he wouldn’t have said anything And you knew after this apology as well, he would go out tomorrow night and do the same thing over again. You didn’t respond to his words. All you could manage to do was pull him into an embrace and apologize when he winced from your hands hitting his cuts. You sat there for a bit, running your hands through his hair and trying to hold yourself back from crying. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and planted gentle kisses there, each a little apology from him. Once you finally pulled away and wiped your face, you started to clean the scrapes on his face, this time more gentle than his back. You dabbed the cotton ball on his forehead as he held you straddled on his lap. He admired your features as you concentrated on him, rubbing your back with his fingers in the process. You didn’t say much, only a simple “sorry” if you were a little too rough with cleaning. Despite the stern face you were putting on, Miguel knew you secretly liked the way he would grab at your thighs and hips with his claws when you did something that hurt.

Once you were finished, you silently put the first aid equipment away and left the bathroom so he could take a shower. He planted a soft kiss into your forehead before you left the room. Once you crawled back into bed, you sighed to yourself. How did you end up here anyways? There’s no way you were expecting all of this when you first saw Miguel at the concert bar that day. Some days were amazing with him. Others were much harder. And while you’ve definitely had worse days with him, today was leaning on the latter option. You contemplated all of this until you heard the door to the bathroom behind you open, Miguel stepping out of the steaming room with his towel wrapped around his lower body. You were very quickly reminded of one of the reasons you’ve stayed with him for so long. The way his wet curls were laying around his head. How his chest glistened while it was damp, despite currently being tattered with cuts at the current moment. He sleepily shuffled over to the bed, dropping his towel before crawling up close to you in bed. The warmth of Miguel’s freshly showered body against yours helped to melt the majority of your worries away. It also helped that you could feel his his cock getting harder against your leg while he cuddled against you. You finally turned around to face him, cupping his jaw in your hand and rubbing your thumb across his face. He grasped your hand and pressed soft kisses into it. “I love you so much Miggy,” you finally said, breaking the silence and drawing his eyes towards you. “I really do, and I’m sorry if I ever make it seem like I don’t. You just…you scare me sometimes.” You quickly realize those weren’t the words you meant. You begin to stutter and take back your words a bit, until you see that Miguel has given you his full attention. You take a deep breath and continue. “You don’t scare me. It’s more of what you do that scares me. I never know when you’re gonna come back or if you even are. If you think I take joy in taking care of you after you come back, I really don’t. I hate seeing my boy like this. And it makes me scared that one day you’re gonna come back in a shape I can’t fix. It scares me so bad Miggy you don’t even know,” you say, choking back your tears. Once Miguel notices you’re about to start crying, he wraps his arms around you immediately. “Shhh it’s ok preciosa,” he comforts as you quietly cry into his broad shoulders. “I’m so sorry for making you worry,” he says in between kissing the top of your head. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, and I love you too.”

You pull away from his hug and stare into his beautiful crimson eyes as he wipes away your tears. You suddenly fall into the overwhelming urge to kiss him. He returns the kiss with even more passion than you put into it. You quickly found yourself exploring his body with your hands, moans escaping his lips whenever you would graze over one of his wounds. You drew yourself closer to him to absorb more of his body heat, though you were quickly reminded of his bare cock as you could feel it hardening on your leg. Your hands eventually made it down there, teasing Miguel along the way as you felt him up on the way down. You then took his hard, already wet cock into your hands, caressing every ridge you could find on it. You could hear more moans exit his mouth and slide into yours as you handled him like putty. He would let out messier sounds, even a growl at one point, and jerk forward into your hand when you would tease around his tip. “F-fuck baby. Y-you’re s-so good to me. ‘N pr-retty too,” he would blurb out Feeling his cock get increasingly hard in your hand began to make you slightly wet as well. This only increased as Miguel began to take off your underwear as well, sliding two of his fingers into your pussy and placing his thumb to draw circles onto your clit. Your grip on his length becomes lazy and sloppy as you’re stimulated as well. You’re surprised at how quickly Miguel is able to find your clit, but then again you expect him to know your body so well after three years. After both of you have been at it for a while, you’re the first one to get close to your orgasm. “Fuck M-Miggy, I-I’m gonna cum,” you manage to moan out. His kisses on you get sloppy as he reaches his as well. It’s over for you once he begins to put more pressure onto your core. You let out an inhuman noise as your stomach fills with the white heat of your orgasm, shaking your entire body. Miguel takes his fingers out of your entrance and licks your cum off of his fingers. It’s then over for him when you eventually put the pressure of your fingers onto his cock. You hand is then covered in his cum once he reaches his climax in your fist, moaning intensely into the air. While he’s in the middle of his orgasm, his claws pop out of his fingers and into your hips and underneath your thigh where his hands are placed. Then, he lets out his fangs and uses them to leave hickeys into your neck, making sure not to let out any of his poison while doing so. “Just stay here with me Miggy,” you sigh out, his fangs deep into your neck. “You don’t ever need to go back out there again. Just stay here with me forever.” He simply nods at first, still sucking into your neck. Once he lets go and and begins to calm down, he responds with “Forever and always mi corazón,” whispering the words into your ear as he lays more kisses along your collarbone and neck.

You stare outside the window at the falling snow, hoping this time he’ll keep his word, but knowing deep down that he wasn’t going to. But for now, you could just appreciate your time with him now. He was all yours right now. Everything. And that was enough.

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A/N: uhhhh sorry but i didn't feel like proofreading this cause its super late for me rn sorry not sorry lmao

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #x reader #smut #marvel smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderverse

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pigeonpeach · 5 months

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Diluc to me loves like a cat. His affection is earned not given. He won’t cozy up to anyone nor welcome people so easily. So it takes a genuine and sincere person to earn his trust and heart. And once you have it that’s when he is affectionate. Like a stray cat rehabilitated he seeks your body because its comforting to him. He’s protective over you because he knows how easily he could lose someone. He knows how quickly things can sour. Overtime he becomes more affectionate in a calm sense. The ideal cuddles for him is on the couch in front of the fireplace, or in-bed after a long day of work. But he also enjoys just having you around or being in the same room as him.

Kaeya is similar to Diluc although he takes more to trust someone. He has a tendency to push someone away when it comes to romantic relationships. He knows he’s in a tough spot and a relationship will complicate things. He already lost both families he’s had too could he really risk losing another? For Kaeay however he indulges more in affections simply because he’s still weak in the heart. He struggles to fully commit to his decisions regarding this. To get into his heart you would have to be a cunning thief and a charming one too. But even so he’d struggle to admit defeat or truly embrace you. Even though he wants nothing more than to melt into your hold. So he shows it by being in the same room and quality time. Keeping you at arm’s length as he knows if you touch him gently he’ll melt.

Itto loves like a dog. A dog that is hyper and destructive. He gets angry easily but he also isn’t violent. He just has a defensive side to him is all. But he loves to hug and be hugged. Although when it comes to someone special he loves it even more. To the point he acts like a koala stuck to their side at times. Although Itto is difficult to court because he’s so friendly and open that he doesn’t recognize when its done with romantic intent. But he’s very loyal and very kind. He will save up to get you a hairpin or trinket you want. He would gladly leap to your defense at any opportunity with a fierceness you would only see then. He is a very passionate man and if you’ve gotten this far then clearly you aren’t against it.

Thoma is kind of like a dog too but not like Itto. He is a bit shy when it comes to physical touch. He’s friendly otherwise though. He’s not unsocialable at all. But he shows a different side with you when you’re alone. He shows you only the fiercest of loyalty and devotion. Nothing less than the best for you. He loves through service and favors so when you return them he’s very happy.

Ayato however loves like a cat. He doesn’t show it. He doesn’t let you know directly. If he loves you its because you won’t know because he’ll spend awhile deciding what to do next. He has alot on his plate and alot of standards to uphold. But he still enjoys your company and support. As he comes up with a plan to go through with your relationship with the less chances of complications or interference he’s still not overtly touchy. His hand may rest on yours, or your hip gently. He’ll leave a kiss on your cheek and maybe on your lips. But cuddling is almost always done at night when he’s resting, in which he holds you close to him.

Lyney loves like a cat if the cat had social anxiety. When he loves someone he clings to them. He protects them and worries when they’re out of sight. He’ll never admit it though unless needed. But he’s quite willing to cuddle at any hour granted he has nothing else to do. He also just feels more relaxed and comfortable with you near.

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writing-intheundercroft · 5 months

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House Hunting with Sebastian

Working on yet another installment in my Auror!Sebastian series, and this time the happy couple is house hunting (with some nsfw bits included)! Doing some editing currently, but it's almost ready.

A sneaky peek below:

“Ominis found the listing,” Sebastian continues, beckoning you forward. “The Ministry has done quite a bit to rehabilitate the area.” Sebastian guides you up the hill, unlatching a well worn gate. The stone cottage is teeming with ivy, crawling up the walls. The storybook tiles on the roof made the house look like it's straight out of a muggle fairytale.

You take a deep breath as you wave your wand, unlocking the door. The wooden floors creak beneath your feet, but otherwise, the place is in good condition. The walls have been replastered, the fireplace cleaned and sparkling. The only furniture is an old looking settee and a bear skin rug (a tad gauche for your taste). You make your way through the living room to the kitchen. Its positively bathed in light, a large bay window over the sink looks over an enormous yard. You practically run up to the sink edge, admiring the view.

“So much light,” you gasp. “Seb, it’s perfect.”

“You are,” Sebastian suddenly appears behind you, pressing himself against your back. You can feel his breath tickling your ear as he wraps his arms around your body. “The perfect view to watch our children play in the yard, don’t you think?” he murmurs into your ear.

Reply if you'd like to be tagged in the update ✨

#sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #auror sebastian sallow #auror sebastian #hogwarts legacy #writing-intheundercroft #sebastian sallow smut #dad sebastian sallow

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bimoonphases · 2 months

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@wolfstarmicrofic March 5 – prompt 5: Wolfsbane Potion – word count 922

Wolfsbane Potion - eases the symptoms of lycanthropy; prevents werewolves from losing their minds post-transformation

The call had come right as Remus was finishing gulping down his Wolfsbane Potion with a grimace, Sirius sitting by his side on the couch, his favourite chocolate ready in hand. The fireplace had suddenly lit up and Mary’s face had appeared.

“What happened?” they chorused.

Even after three whole years of peace, of amends from the Ministry to the both of them, of their quiet, happy life in their cottage, of the frequent visits their godson paid them, of being hailed among the heroes of two wizarding wars, their first instinct was to think something was wrong.

“Nothing bad,” Mary said soothingly. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late but someone just dropped their newborn off before disappearing and you’re first on our adoption list, so…”

Remus looked at his husband for a split second. Sirius nodded.

“We’ll be right there!” he said.

A couple of minutes later, they apparated in front of the main doors of St Mungo’s and walked inside. Remus didn’t really like the place, he had spent way too much time in there after the end of the war, helping the staff both with magical treatments to lycanthropy and the way to deal gently with those who shared his condition. The clink of his cane on the white floor echoed as they walked past the reception and crossed paths with two Elf doctors discussing a patient. Remus felt more than saw Sirius slow down as they passed by the doors leading to the Regulus Arcturus Black Wing for Elves. Since the rehabilitation of his name, and the fact there was now a branch of the Ministry dedicated and run by every non-human creature, many things had changed in the way the wizarding world saw the Elves. Still, it was just another reminder of all the people they had lost in the two wars. Remus took Sirius’s hand in his and they walked on, reaching the newborn wing, where Mary was waiting right by the door.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“We’ve been waiting for a long time, so obviously not,” Sirius laughed, but Remus noticed the slight tremble in his voice.

When they had moved in their cottage at the end of the war they had agreed on giving themselves a year to adapt then check in with each other to see if they still wished to adopt children. They had asked to be put on the waiting list for abandoned children at St Mungo’s three months later.

“We checked, and he’s healthy and strong,” Mary went on.

“It’s a boy?” Sirius said slowly.

“I know you wanted a little girl to spoil, Sirius,” Mary laughed.

“Bold of you to think I wouldn’t spoil a little boy,” Sirius muttered.

“What else do you know?” Remus asked.

“There was no note or objects with him, but he’s a magical kid as well. He’s really perfectly fine, just unwanted.”

“Not anymore,” Sirius said, clasping Remus’s hand.

They followed Mary in a room and watched her take a bundle wrapped in blankets from a crib and turn towards them.

“Here he is,” she said softly. “Would you like to hold him?”

Remus nudged Sirius forward.

“I have to sit down first, I don’t want to drop him,” he said.

Sirius delicately took the bundle from Mary’s hands and sat down by Remus’s side. Only the little face was visible, eyes closed and jet-black hair already curling at the ends.

“He looks like you,” Remus whispered.

“I’ll leave you to get acquainted,” Mary said, quietly walking out of the room.

The baby moved, and managed to get a tiny hand out of the blanket to rub against his cheek.

“He’s so beautiful…” Sirius chocked. “Our son. We have a son, Moony.”

“We do, my love,” Remus answered, kissing Sirius’s cheek.

“Our little nameless son,” Sirius smiled. “What shall we name him?”

Remus took a deep breath.

“We discussed it, remember? About how to use names?” he asked.

“No first names after someone because he deserves to have his own,” Sirius nodded.

“And James as middle name is Harry’s to use if he has a son one day,” Remus added.

They had lost so much in all those years, they had had to write those rules down to not get overwhelmed once the moment came. Even with that, Remus’s first instinct if the baby would have been a girl would have been to name her Lily, and that one too was Harry’s name to use if he wanted.

“The name you said the other day, the one in your book,” Sirius looked at Remus.

“Anwell?”

“You said it meant ‘beloved’ in Welsh. And he’ll be so beloved, won’t he?”

The baby babbled in his sleep.

“I think he likes it,” Sirius chuckled.

“If he gets my surname and a Welsh name, you get to pick the middle one,” Remus said, mesmerised by the way the tiny mouth was moving.

“I’d like…”

Remus looked up at Sirius, noticing tears forming in his eyes. He knew what his husband was about to say, but he waited all the same.

“I’d like it to be Regulus,” Sirius whispered. “To give him the happy life his namesake never got to have. If it’s alright for you, Moony.”

“Of course it is.”

Sirius nodded, tears now streaming on his cheeks.

“Go with Dad, Papa needs to cry a bit,” he said, delicately placing the baby in Remus’s arms.

Remus looked down at the baby, his heart swelling with happiness.

“Welcome to the world, Anwell Regulus Lupin,” he whispered.

#yes Remus is Dad and Sirius is Papa because he's either posh or French your pick #wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #marauders #post war wolfstar #regulus black #just writing (like i'm supposed to live)

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terrence-silver · 20 days

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What kind of bedroom would Terry have

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I present to you: Ennis House's brutalist, concrete block bedroom!

With the sole exception that I'd make Terry's actual bed in the 1980's into something more eccentric and luxurious. Less typically utilitarian. Something with actual arches and canopies. Something grand and slightly intimidating? Something with a gothic, period type flare? Maybe something like this?

Present day, though, in his Malibu seaside mansion where we're first re-introduced to him, I'd opt for more open concept spaces. Modern minimalism. Clean. Pristine. Lots of whites. Pale colors. An abundance of natural light and glass as opposed to his dark, gritty, gothic (Slightly maximalist?) bedroom of the 80's. Never more furniture than is needed --- in fact, only the bare essentials. A hub meant to rest the eyes and the soul and arranged by precise Feng Shui, without distractions, wholly decluttered, with colossal windows where everything seems pleasantly transparent. Perhaps symbolizing him supposedly turning a new page and his dwelling and sleeping spaces intending to reflect that, being as orderly, clean cut and put together as his life was intended to be. And I do envision something as stark and almost as intentionally and meticulously bare as this, with a vast vista overlooking the ocean. It's only perhaps a little too empty for comfort. De-personalized.

How about when he goes back to his old ways and changes manors once more and he ends up in that forested looking estate where his weapon collection is stashed? The place where he invites Chozen for dinner? The color palette of that home is infinitely different; lots of dark wood, tall shelves, labyrinthian hallways that seem a bit tight, black marble panels, blackout curtains and heavy draperies, a sense of everything being more closed off from all sides, brooding fireplaces and his bedroom is likely to take on a more moody tone by extension too. What I imagine is a lot of modern elegance, a foreboding palette, dim and seductive lights and the overall sense of excess privacy dominating the premises as opposed to before, especially the bedroom, giving off the impression that the place is secluded, overlooking a private, walled off patch of woodland he owns. If anything, Terry's the opposite of someone posturing to be open and rehabilitated in this stage.

#terry silver #kk3 #cobra kai #bedroom #terry silver headcanon #terry silver headcanons

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captainkirkk · 1 year

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

ATLA

illustrate the remnants of the life i used to live by WitchofEndor

Zuko's soul marks have been regularly burned away since before he knew what they meant. He knows that he cannot be loyal to his father and his nation while also being loyal to a soul family, so he doesn't look for them. Unfortunately, that means that he doesn't know when he's found them.

Stranger things

Shovel Talks by unkreativstermensch (+ podfic)

"Oh,” Steve says. Then again, “oh,” a little quieter. His expression changes; from confusion to something pained almost. “Mr Munson, I don’t…” he takes a deep breath, his voice a little shaky as he continues. “I don’t think he…I don’t think he likes me like that.”

He doesn’t say “it’s not like that.” Neither does he say “I’m not like that.”

That’s the first thing Wayne notices.

or: Wayne decides to give Steve the shovel talk, only to realize he might not be the one needing one

Peaceful Bliss by unkreativstermensch

"Henderson,” Eddie groans. “Do you have any idea what time it is?" He rubs his hands over his face. Dustin nods.

"Of course, it’s 6:15, but we need to talk, it's really urgent, I noticed something about the-" he stops in his tracks when he notices the patch of hair next to Eddie, sticking out from under the covers and in between pillows, and the way Eddie winces because Dustin's talking too loud, and oh shit- there's someone else in bed with him.

or: Dustin has the annoying habit of just busting into Eddie's trailer at ungodly hours. One morning Eddie's not alone though.

SVSSS

Protagonist Rehabilitation Programme by cinnamonsnaps

(oh my god they were roommates)

"Thank you, valued user, for accepting the Protagonist Rehabilitation Programme. Your task: Ensure the protagonist's happiness."

Shen Yuan is convinced that his favouri... least favourite novel's main protagonist isn't really happy. He has babes, money and power, but does he have any friends? Cue the system handily dropping Demon King Luo Binghe into his bedroom. Can Shen Yuan make him happy before the timer runs out?

(90% light-hearted comedy, 10% existential horror and fear because this is the OG PIDW Binghe we're talking about)

Shadowhunters

Families of Choice by MonPetitTresor

Life at the Institute takes a turn for the worse for Alec. When he's alone with no where else to turn, his siblings step up and help him find his feet once more with help from a few new friends along the way. Between them, Alec finally gets a chance to realize that the world doesn't begin and end with being a Shadowhunter, and there's more out there for him, so long as he's got the courage to reach out and grab it.

Salvation lets their wings unfold by HopeSilverheart

Alec is frozen and, when she spots what has him looking so horrified, so is Clary.

Above the fireplace, hanging on the wall like some sort of divine offering, rest a pair of huge, black angel wings, so similar to Alec’s own. The mere sight makes him want to throw up and curl his wings around himself to make sure all his feathers are still in place. He can’t even begin to imagine life without the pair of extra limbs every Nephilim has to deal with. To be faced with the reminder that some people want nothing more than to tear those wings off his back is…

“What the fuck, Alec?” Clary whispers, her voice choked up and angry and alarmed. “Alec, what is this?”

Or: Alec, Clary and Magnus go on a mission to a warlock's home. What they find there leaves its mark on both shadowhunters.

Star Wars

listen, there's a hell of a universe next door by storm_petrel

As it turns out, no one ever taught Luke how to tie a little green baby to his back one-handed, but Luke thinks he's pretty gods-damned good at problem-solving under pressure, thank you, and the baby is at least semi-cooperative. When he's sure the kid is strapped in as tight as he can get, Luke pauses, and reaches back. His fingers graze the wide point of the baby's fuzzy ear. "Well, kid," says Luke, and his voice is a little rough, but not bad, all things considered. "Carrying you on my back while getting the absolute banthashit kicked out of me, at least this feels familiar."

The baby coos in his ear, and then kicks him hard in the kidney. Yoda used to do the exact same thing. Somehow, it's a lot more endearing now.

Or: Luke Skywalker solves a number of life-or-death problems, makes some new friends, falls abruptly in love, and gets shot into space, all in the same day.

Clone Wars

No wealth, no ruin, no silver, no gold by themonopolyhat

"New orders.” Cody hands the data pad over, and Waxer takes a minute to absorb the screen contents.

“Are we—” He stops, his voice hushed with something like awe. “Do we get to hit Dooku's... the kriff do the natties call it...” He snaps his fingers and points at Wooley for some reason. “Vacation home. Are we gonna burn down Dooku's vacation home?"

Or: Six weeks after Obi-Wan's funeral, the 212th reunites with their general.

#happy holidays everyone #this round up is my gift to all of you #weekly fic round up #my posts #fic recs #stranger things #svsss recs #sw recs #atla recs #shadowhunter recs

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romanov-ramblings · 1 year

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Yesterday, GMZ Tsarskoe Selo (the Tsarskoe Selo State Museum Preserve) published a generous photographic spread on the now beautifully-restored Mountain Hall which visitors can now walk through as part of the permanent exhibition of recreated and restored interiors in the Alexander Palace! This part of the project to rehabilitate the Alexander Palace into part museum, and part multi-resource centre has been much discussed. This room, with its wooden slide or "mountain" as slides are known in Russia has been meticulously and painstakingly restored and partially recreated using old photographs, drawings, inventories from the museum period, and other archival materials. Objects which once stood in this room on the fireplace mantle, and on console tables are now back in their rightful place. The fire-screen is the original, just reupholstered. The furniture also comes from GMZ Tsarskoe Selo's own collection. The lunettes of faux sky have also been brought back to life. Below, I've translated (using Yandex Translate, which is better than Google by far) the article which GMZ Tsarskoe Selo published yesterday on the opening of the Mountain Hall. I translate from the original Russian as I know not everyone in the group speaks the language or can read/write it so this is for ease of reading and also for those members who are not as tech-savvy as well. So please enjoy the article, and the wonderful photographs which also include some that I added for a comparison of how the room was once, and how it comes to us today. Also, let's not forget the monumental work that has been done thus far. There is still work being done and it is just wonderful, and a miracle that it is being done at all. It's important to remember these workers and the many companies/firms which have had a hand in this project. ________________________________________________________________ RESTORATION OF THE HALL WITH A SLIDE COMPLETED. "The restoration of another interior of the Alexander Palace has been completed in the Tsarskoye Selo Museum-Reserve. The hall with a slide is part of the front suite; its decoration was made at the end of the 18th century according to the project of the architect Giacomo Quarenghi. For the first time in 80 years, visitors will see the hall as it was before the start of World War II. This is the fourteenth interior opened to the public during the large-scale restoration of the Alexander Palace. From February 2, the Hall with a slide will be included in the excursion route. The personal apartments of Emperor Nicholas II and his wife Alexandra Feodorovna in the Alexander Palace became available to visitors in August 2021. The restoration of the palace began in 2012 and is carried out mainly at the expense of funds allocated by the Ministry of Culture of the Russian Federation, as well as at the expense of the museum's own funds. The decoration of the Hall with a slide was recreated with the support of the Transsoyuz Charitable Foundation. – For us, the opening of the Hall with a slide is a continuation of the grandiose restoration epic of the Alexander Palace. I am glad that patrons took part in recreating the decoration of this unusual interior. Let me remind you that the Agate Rooms were restored at the expense of the Transsoyuz Foundation, the lapis lazuli portals of the Lyon Hall of the Catherine Palace were recreated,” says Olga Taratynova, director of the Tsarskoye Selo Museum-Reserve. The hall with a slide got its name due to its main compositional element: in 1833, at the behest of Nicholas I and Empress Alexandra Feodorovna, a roller coaster brought from the Anichkov Palace was installed here, which was presented to the imperial children by their grandmother, Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna. The children of the imperial couple rolled down the hill on rugs. The hill, having undergone repairs in 1843, was in the hall for almost a hundred years, until 1941. The interior restoration project was developed by the specialists of the Architectural Bureau "Studio 44"; the restoration of the interior and the reconstruction of the slide according to their own project was carried out in 2019-2021 by the specialists of PSB ZhilStroy. The interior, like other halls of the front suite, has retained some elements of the original decoration. In the process of work, the artificial marble of the walls of light gray and lilac shades, typeset parquet and a fireplace were restored; Based on historical photographs, a picturesque frieze was recreated imitating artificial marble, as well as oak door and window fillings. While working in the lunettes (architectural spaces in the shape of a crescent), a genuine oil painting on canvas imitating windows was discovered under late painting, it was cleared and the losses made up. During the restoration of the ceiling, it became clear that the rosette in its center, which was considered to be stucco, is a metal, genuine one, which appeared in the hall, most likely during the renovation of the interior in the 1840s; it was dismantled, put in order and installed in its place. The project of manufacturing a chandelier according to a historical model was developed by specialists from the Tsarskoye Selo Amber Workshop; complex and painstaking work on creating a copy of a chandelier for 40 candles was performed in the Yuzhakova Studio workshop. The exposition includes: furniture (from the museum's collection); decorations made of bronze and porcelain, including paired porcelain vases on the mantelpiece and a mantel screen, which historically come from this interior; bronze clock and candelabra with figures of Orpheus and Eurydice. Initially, in archival documents of 1796–1809, this interior was called the First Front Room. According to the project of Giacomo Quarenghi, the walls were finished with multi-colored "false" marble and decorated with pilasters with capitals. The room was heated by a "piece tiled" stove with copper and iron doors. The floor was oak parquet. The ceiling was painted "in stucco work" by the painters Giacomo and Ferrari. In 1809, the New (Alexander) Palace was transferred to the Tsarskoye Selo Palace Administration. In the inventory for this interior, the replacement of structural elements and the correction of painting and "false" marble are indicated. The furniture set of the First Front Room consisted of four gilded console tables with marble boards, eight gilded armchairs and 12 chairs. On the wall hung a large mirror in a gilded and painted frame. Two crystal girandoles were used for illumination. In 1833, at the behest of Emperor Nicholas I and Empress Alexandra Feodorovna, a roller coaster was installed in this interior. The ceremonial hall “where the Rolling Hill”, located between the Portrait Hall and the Library, eventually began to be called the “Gorkovy”, and then the Hall with a slide. In 1836, a bronze chandelier with 40 pipes was sent to light the Hall with a slide. In the 1840s, repairs were made in the Hall with a slide, connected with the installation of "warm floors" - heating according to the so-called Amosov system. During this period, the ceilings in the Hall with a slide were whitewashed, a marble fireplace was made, the parquet was replaced, and the rolling hill was remade by the carpenter Bolgagen. In the report of the painter Vdovichev, submitted to the Tsarskoye Selo Palace Administration in April 1843, it is indicated that he was “... in the New Palace in the Front Rooms, painting in friezes under fake marble painting.” Vsevolod Yakovlev, director of the Association of Palaces and Parks of Detskoye Selo, wrote about the use of the roller coaster: his children rolled off her on the rugs. In the last reign, during ceremonial breakfasts and dinners, an orchestra was located near the hill; under it, bicycles of Nicholas II and his children were usually kept. Today, toy cars are placed here ... and two carriages with bicycles, presented by someone to the son of Nicholas II." ________________________________________________________________ Photograph Credit: Tsarskoe Selo State Museum Preserve (GMZ Tsarskoe Selo). ________________________________________________________________ Please enjoy the article and information, as well as, the photographs! Also, if you'd like to share and/or re-post these photographs elsewhere PLEASE credit GMZ Tsarskoe Selo, accordingly. Thank-you!

#alexander palace #gmz tsarskoe selo #mountain hall #russian empire style #neoclassical style #giacomo quarenghi #18th century #restoration #romanov #tsar nicholas i #tsar nicholas ii #transsoyuz charitable foundation

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